Amelie looked at herself in the mirror as she fastened the silver and turquoise earrings in her ears.

Where are you going? Hermione asked, waking up and looking at her appearance. And what the bloody hell do you think you're wearing! She wore a black shimmery sleeveless dress with a square top and a scoop neck nearly down to her bellybutton, and a long narrow skirt that reached the floor. She wore a turquoise and silver choer, and her currently-blonde hair was drawn back from her face into a bun. At the moment, she was tall, tanned and perhaps a little too slim. The joys of being a metamorphmagus.

Amelie thanked Ralph Lauren with all her heart, too.

I'm going to see daddy. Amelie said as she fastened the other earring. She slid her feet into high-heeled black sandles, a picked up a small black satin clutch purse.

What? Why?

To give him the ring, of course. Amelie opened the purse and checked that the ring was still inside with her wand before picking up a heavy black velvet cloak and putting it around her shoulders, fastening the silver clasp at her throat, and pulling the hood up over her head.

So how do you propose to give it to him? here, dad, this ring should ensure your complete destruction, so please wear it, would you? Hermione mocked.

Don't be cynical, it doesn't suit you. Amelie scolded, slipping through the dark common room.

What time is it, anyway? Hermione asked as she saw the empty corridors.

Two-thirty am. Amelie answered, her heels clicking softly on the stone floors. And I plan to say it is a gift…his birthday's coming up soon.

His birthday? Hermione asked incredulously. Amelie looked cautiously around the corner and nodded.

You needn't sound so surprised. He was born too.

Unfortunately.

Well, we cant help what happened. Time for your box, love.

But we're not there yet.

I'm being picked up. I don't want you there to throw the whole thing off.

Thanks. Amelie didn't reply, just mentally shoved Hermione into the mental box, regardless of her protests.

At the gates of Hogwarts, a black wolf sat patiently, watching her approach through yellow eyes. As she got closer, he stood, his mouth drawing back from sharp white teeth.

"Easy there. It's Amelie." Amelie murmured. The wolf grew upwards into the form of James Parkinson.

"Ready to go?" he spat angrily.

"Quite. And there's no point taking out on me that your daughter's a traitor, so watch your tone."

"Princess." Parkinson offered his hand coldly. She smiled sweetly and took it, and the two of them apparated.

They didn't appear at Malfoy Manor this time, it seemed even Lucius wasn't stupid enough to have repeated Dark Revels at his house. Instead they were at the Parkinson manor, and they apparated right into the entrance hall, a tall hall with white walls, green marble pillars and a black marble floor.

"Very nice."

"I'm glad you approve, princess." Parkinson sneered, before walking off. Amelie removed her cloak and dropped it into the arms of a waiting house-elf before following Parkinson leisurely. He stood waiting for her at the double doors to what appeared to be the dining room. He pushed them both open, and Amelie followed him in.

"Don't you feel, Parkinson, that perhaps my daughter should enter the room first?" the voice of Voldemort was a dull hiss.

"My lord, I'm sorry. I didn't think."

"Obviously. Crucio." Voldemort descended from the dais at the front of the room to stop before Amelie, who knelt at his approach. "Rise, Amelie." She stood. He looked her over, taking in the model-looks and the elegant yet daring dress. "You look impeccable, as always."

"Thank you, my lord father." She replied softly, her eyes downcast in submission.

"Why have you come, my dear? This meeting did not call for your attendance."

"I remembered, my lord father, you upcoming birthday." Amelie said. Voldemort laughed in delight.

"So it is!"

"And so I brought you my gift." She opened her purse and withdrew the gold ring set with the huge rectangular emerald, engraved with the snake. Voldemort smiled as she held it out to him. "My lord father, please accept this token." She said formally. She was well aware of how ridiculous she sounded, but Voldemort liked formality. And she really wanted him to like and wear the ring.

"It is truly magnificent, my daughter." Voldemort slipped the ring onto one thin white finger. It fit perfectly. "It is a gift for a king."

"For an emperor, my lord." Amelie added.

"For an emperor indeed. Come, sit." He led her back to the dais, transfiguring a grand chair to sit beside his on the next step down. She sat, and then watched the rest of the night's proceedings.

It was unbelievably boring.

By five am it looked like it would continue for several more hours, and Amelie turned to face Voldemort.

"My lord, the time comes for me to return to Hogwarts. I must go now if I am not to be missed."

"Of course. The time draws very near now, though. Be ready, I shall send you word."

"Of course." Amelie agreed. Voldemort clapped, and the room fell silent.

"Parkinson!" he scurried forward. "Take my daughter back to Hogwarts."

"Of course, my lord." Parkinson turned to Amelie and held out his arm. "My lady?" she smiled and accepted his arm, descending the dais, but then turning and dipping a deep curtsey to Voldemort before allowing Parkinson to guide her out of the room. The moment the double doors had closed he let go of her arm.

"Are you set to ruin me?" he demanded as they walked briskly along the corridors.

"No, but you seem set to break my ankle. Slow down." Amelie slowed her pace regardless, forcing Parkinson to slow also.

"Why do you insist on pointing out all my flaws to Voldemort?"

"I don't! They just show more when I'm around, I guess." Amelie shrugged, taking her cloak from the house-elf and wrapping it around her. "Let's go. I want to be back at Hogwarts before breakfast." Parkinson took her hand and once again, they apparated.

He left her at the gate to the school, and Amelie walked briskly up the drive, cursing the heels which were now starting to make her feet ache. The rising sun cast dim light over the grounds and Amelie quickened her walk to prevent being seen on her way back to the castle.

At the door she slipped off her shoes, gathered her skirt and cloak and then ran as softly as she could up to the Head's Suite, getting there at the same time as Mrs Norris, who hissed and put her ears back.

"Don't you dare, you little fleabag." Amelie warned. The cat yowled, and Amelie kicked her sharply in the ribs before disappearing into the Head's Suite. She shed clothing as she went, her cloak on the couch, her shoes by the bathroom door, the dress on the tiled floor and the jewelery on the bathroom counter before she stepped in the hottest shower she could manage, letting the water run through her long straight blonde hair and over her gold-tanned skin. Her heart was beating so fast she thought it would jump out of her chest and she felt surprised at how much adrenaline was rushing through her system. It hadn't been a particularly scary meeting…she was convinced her performance had been exemplary. But meeting Mrs Norris seemed to have put the icing on the cake, and now she was trembling. She leaned against the cold tile wall and tipped her head back, closing her eyes.

"Hermione?"

She jumped, her feet slipping out from under her and she landed heavily on the bottom of the bath.

"Oh god, Hermione. Are you okay?" Draco threw back the curtain and Amelie frowned, drawing up her legs and crossing her arms over her breasts.

"Do you mind? Towel, please."

"Sorry Amelie." Draco handed her a big fluffy green towel and she gestured for him to turn around. He did, and she stood with a few muttered curses and wrapped the towel around her. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"Very bruised." Amelie commented, securing the towel around her and running her hands over her face and hair, reverting back to Hermione's long curly brown hair, pale skin and brown eyes. Draco watched her in the mirror, and she noticed vaguely that he had been watching her the entire time. So really, there had been no point in him turning around. Figures.

"That's very unnerving." He observed, turning and looking at her straight. "Where have you been?"

"What do you mean?" Amelie asked innocently.

"The model body. Blonde hair, silver and turquoise jewelery, that rather expensive dress." He looked at the shimmery black material on the floor. "The high heels outside." He paused and narrowed his eyes at her. "You've been to see Him, havent you?" Amelie stepped out of the bath, ignoring his outstretched helping hand. "You have! Why didn't you tell me?" he demanded.

"What would you have done? It was better this way." Amelie said tiredly, taking a smaller towel and rubbing her hair.

"I still wish you'd tell me."

"I'm sorry, okay?" Amelie said with exhasperation. She put toothpaste on her toothbrush and started brushing her teeth vigorously. Draco watched her sharply.

"Hard night?" he asked. She shrugged, and spat out a mouthful of toothpaste.

"Not especially. I'm just wound a little tight is all." He nodded.

"Didn't go well, then?"

"It went fine." She turned to him with a frown. "That's what was so odd. It was…as easy as it is ever going to get, but…it was so bad that when I met Mrs Norris outside-"

"You met Mrs Norris?" Draco asked incredulously.

"I had the dubious honour."

"And?" Draco had a mischievious glint in his eye.

"There's no need to look like that about it." Amelie chided.

"Did you kick her?" Draco demanded. "Did you?" Amelie ignored him, rinsing her toothbrush. "You did!"

"Not hard."

"But you kicked her!"

"Draco, it is half past five in the morning. What are you doing up?" Amelie said, struggling to change the subject.

"I heard you come in. Wondered where you'd been."

"Liar."

"What?" Draco's tone was laced with injured innocence.

"You never heard me come in."

"Those heels are kinda loud."

"I wasn't wearing heels!" Amelie pointed out.

"You dropped them on the floor." Draco said, hoisting himself onto the counter. "They clattered."

"Oh, shut up." Amelie sighed, going into her room and digging in her drawer for some clean underwear.

"Just because I'm right." Draco sing-songed.

"Precisely. Now go away so I can get changed."

"It's nothing I havent seen before." Draco said slyly.

"It is while I'm in control. Now out." Hermione hustled him out of the door, shut it firmly behind her, and began getting dressed.

&

Surprised was a mild word compared to what Hermione felt when, one Saturdaymorning about two weeks before Easter, several owls flew in carrying clothes-boxes and set them in front of her. There was no question who it was from, seeing as the boxes were black and sealed with a snake imprint.

Why can my father never be subtle? Amelie wailed. It isnt that fucking hard!

Calm down dear. Hermione said gently, standing and gathering the boxes together, leaving her breakfast. Ginny helped her wordlessly, and walked silently beside Hermione back to the common room, their arms full of black boxes with Armani written on the ribbon.

In the common room, Hermione and Ginny set the boxes down on the bed and stood back, looking at them as if afraid they would bite.

"So its finally happening then." Ginny said presently.

"Looks like it." Hermione answered. "Let's see what we've got."

The girls solemnly started opening the boxes, laying aside the tissue paper and unfolding black satin, wool and velvet, plus a pair of knee high black leather boots.

"Doesn't spare you any expense, does he?" Ginny asked cynically, looking over the outfit.

There were long tight satin trousers, a long sleeved scoop-necked fine wool knit top and a fitted velvet jacket, all black. Hermione looked over at Ginny, and noted her frown.

"Ginny? What's wrong?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know. It's silly, I guess. I think I was just hoping that all this about the war and stuff wasn't real…that we were just messing around. But now its here and I'm like…shit! I may not live till the end of the week!"

"Oh, sweetheart." Hermione put down the jacket and went around the bed to hug Ginny tightly. It wasn't that Hermione wasn't worried, because she was just as terrified as Ginny was. Hermione simply hadnt said anything, and had been, for the most part, hoping to God that if she ignored it long enough it would go away.

Ginny pulled away with a wry smile. "Sorry. Emotional moment there."

"Don't be sorry." Hermione said seriously. "There's going to be a lot of emotional moments soon, and we both know how well guys deal with those." Ginny laughed, but a knock on the door stilled her. Both watched as the door slowly opened and Draco slipped through.

"You know, I think that's the first time you've actually knocked in about three months. I'm proud of you." Hermione commented. He rolled his eyes at her.

"So?" He asked.

"So what?" Hermione replied.

"So what was in the boxes?"

"Surely you've received enough designer clothing in your life to recognise clothes boxes." Hermione teased, helping Ginny fold up the outfit and put it back into the boxes. He didn't reply, and the room was silent as the girls replaced the clothes in their boxes and Draco watched them, sitting backwards on her desk chair.

"We'll all be fine." Hermione said eventually.

"I hope so." Ginny sighed.

"Don't worry sweetiepie, we'll manage." Hermione said.

"The conversation's taking on a circular structure now." Ginny commented.

"It is." Hermione shrugged. "I'm going to the library for research. Wanna come with?"

"Nope. I got all the research time I'd ever want doing that bloody ring. Speaking of which, where is it?"

"Amelie gave it to Voldemort a couple of weeks ago."

"She did? She went and – why don't you tell me these things?"

"You know, Draco said exactly the same thing."

"I am here, you know." Draco commented from his position on the chair. "Don't worry Gin, she didn't tell me either. I found out five am the following morning when she woke me up when she came in." Hermione shrugged.

"It was accidental." She shoved an armful of books and parchment into her bag, dropping quill and inkbottle on top. "Anyone coming to the library?" both shook their heads.

"Okay, if you insist. I'll go by myself." Hermione huffed, her mouth twisting into a smile. "See you guys later."

The halls were unusually empty, and when Mrs Norris came around the corner, she skittered away, back the way she had come. Hermione rolled her eyes. The cat wouldn't come anywhere near her now, but as of yet there had been no accusations as to cat-kicking.

The library was very quiet, although there was the odd student dotted around. She spotted Harry in the back corner and made her way over.

"Mind if I join?" She asked. He nodded.

"Sure."

She dropped her bag on the floor and pulled out the chair, regarding Harry over the scarred tabletop.

"What?" he asked, looking up from his transfiguration textbook. She shrugged.

"How are you?"

"Fine." He looked at her suspiciously. "What is it?"

"Cant a friend ask how her friend is feeling?"

"Of course, but you havent exactly been forthcoming, recently. It's about those boxes you got this morning, isnt it?" Harry asked, marking his page and closing the book. She nodded.

"Why don't you tell us both, Miss Granger?" They looked up and saw Professor McGonagall standing over them. She pulled up a chair and dropped into it. "So? Are they from Him?"

"They are. Amelie thinks…she thinks it'll be really soon."

"How soon?" Harry asked.

"I think it'll be within the week, Harry." Harry looked at her in a kind of half fear, half anticipation.

"So soon?" McGonagall asked.

"It's taken him seventeen years to get this far." Hermione pointed out. "Yes, so soon. We need to be ready."

"There isnt barely enough time to send the students home." McGonagall fretted. Amelie took control.

Hey!

"No." Amelie said flatly. "They cant go home." Harry and McGonagall stared at her, aghast.

"You're sentencing them to death!" Harry exclaimed.

"Have you so little faith in yourself?" Amelie shot back. "No. Without them, Hogwarts will fall. And Hogwarts must not fall. If Hogwarts falls then Voldemort will have the advantage he needs. Hogwarts is all that stands between him and total victory."

"But the first and second years could go home." Harry reasoned.

"When you were a first year you defeated Voldemort and Quirrel. In second year you defeated Riddle and the basilisk. And you were by no means the smartest or most able of the first and second years." Amelie shrugged. "They'll manage, just like you did."

Harsh.

This isnt exactly primroses and sunshine.

"I was lucky. And most of it was a fluke." Harry protested.

"Then we'll have to hope for lots of flukes. We havent got another option. But you have to remember, a lot of the Slytherins will disappear the night before the battle. He'll probably call us all to him the night before and then attack at dawn. We need plans for when it happens. The younger students we'll keep out of the way as much as possible…but if it comes to it, they will fight. They have to."

"Harry managed it. We should be alright." McGonagall mused.

"I was also in the hospital wing for about two weeks afterwards." Harry pointed out.

"The hospital wing will be full after the battle. No matter who fills it." Amelie reasoned.

"That's no reason to create casualties." McGonagall put in. Amelie sighed.

"People arent going to be falling over and banging their knees, Minerva. You know precisely what this is going to be like, how people are going to get killed. People are going to get more than a little hurt."

"You've made your point." McGonagall said firmly. "And we'll stop that discussion there." Harry and Amelie looked at her, confused, and she nodded slightly in the direction of a mildly disturbed first year.

"Okay. Well, I have to go and find Ginny. She and I have certain things to discuss." Amelie said with a shrug.

Like what?

"Like what?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"Since when do you care?" Amelie retorted. Harry looked sheepish for a moment before the expression was quickly hidden, but Amelie saw it regardless.

Ooh!

Amelie…

"Certain things." She said with a wink. "See you later, little bro." She waved merrily before disappearing out the library.

Harry likes Ginny! Hermione exclaimed.

Well, duh.

Omigod! Why does it take guys so flipping long to click?

About their feelings or girl's feelings?

Theirs. He's known Ginny loved him in second year.

She's rather gone off him now, though, hasn't she?

I think that's mainly because he made it clear he wasn't interested. And Ginny's not one to waste her time on guys who don't give a damn.

Not when there are guys that care, no. Ginny knows that much about efficient time management, at least. Hermione laughed.

Very true.

You, on the other hand, had to wait until your last year to fall in love with him. When you had six years before to fall in love and get laid!

He was a git before!

You were a prude before. It's okay, I forgive you.

Hermione forbore to answer while she let herself into the common room. Draco was attempting to juggle while Ginny watched and tried not to laugh hysterically. Amelie gave control to Hermione with a long-suffering sigh.

"What's going on?" Hermione asked with a smile.

"He's trying to prove he can juggle." Ginny giggled. "And failing."

"I can too juggle!" Draco insisted. He tried again, got two balls into the air, and promptly dropped the lot.

"Sorry Draco, I think I'm with Ginny on this one. Speaking of Ginny…I have a matter to talk to you about."

"Do you really?" Ginny raised an eyebrow.

"Indeedly I do. Come on." Hermione grabbed Ginny's wrist and hauled her from the couch. "Up ya get." She turned to Draco on her way to her room, kissing him briefly. "I'll see you later?"

"I'm not going anywhere." Draco said with a shrug. "I'll practise juggling."

"You do that." Hermione said with a wink. "Toodles!" She dragged Ginny into her room and shut the door. Draco stared at it half in horror half in shock.

"Toodles!"

&

Hermione sat Ginny down on the bed with a barely suppressed grin.

You're going to tell her? Amelie asked.

I'm going to snoop. I wont come right out and tell her.

I don't suppose you ever noticed that she isnt an idiot!

I noticed, but she gave up on Harry ages ago. Amelie simply sighed. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"So who's your next victim?" Hermione asked. Ginny gave her a funny look. "You dragged me in here to ask me that? I have no qualms with Draco hearing my boyfriend plans."

"I felt in need of a girl talk. So?"

"Patrick Moore in Ravenclaw. He's cute, smart, and makes me laugh. Other than that…I don't really know. Why?"

"You could go for Harry." Hermione suggested.

Yeah, subtle. Real subtle.

Shut up, it might work.

"Harry?" Ginny snorted. "Please. I went off him ages ago when he made it clear he didn't like me."

Told you.

"But what if he liked you?" Hermione asked. "Hypothetically, obviously. Would you go out with him then?" Ginny gave her a funny look.

"Then I'd consider it if he came and told me to my face." She said. "Why? Did he say something?"

"Not as such. I'm probably reading way to much into it."

"What?" Ginny asked.

"Amelie was making her escape after telling him she was his big sister, and she said she'd talk to you about random stuff. And he was like, 'what stuff?' and she was like, 'stuff stuff,' but it was pretty clear he was interested at least. And why else would he be interested in girl talk?"

"Maybe he doesn't trust Amy and was just looking out for me. He might as well be my brother."

"Do you see him like that?" Hermione pressed. Ginny rolled her eyes.

"When was the last time you got laid? Because you're showing symptoms of withdrawal."

"I'll fix that as soon as possible, then." Hermione said with a grin. "Off you go." Ginny laughed. "I'm only kidding."

"I know. But I gotta go anyway. So you fix your little 'problem' and I'll go and work on my various projects. Have fun." Ginny bounced off, and Hermione followed her through the common room.

"Oh, and Draco?" Ginny turned to where Draco was sketching something on a piece of paper.

"Yep?" he asked, not looking up.

"Do me a favour and fuck Hermione, because she's showing withdrawal symptoms." Draco dropped his pencil with a clatter and it rolled across the floor. He looked up at Ginny.

"What?" he asked incredulously.

"You've got free time now, so be a dear and sort it out for me. Thanks. Ciao ciao." Ginny slipped through the portrait door and was gone. Draco and Hermione looked at each other in bemusement.

"Withdrawal symptoms, huh?" Draco asked with a small grin. Hermione laughed.

"Maybe. Is trying to run her life a withdrawal symptom? Because if so I'm seriously in withdrawal."

"I think it's seen as one of the more serious symptoms." He decided, stalking up to her and resting his hands on her hips.

"Really?" Hermione asked, faking concern.

"Really." He bent and kissed her, and she laughed against his mouth, winding her arms around his neck.

"Then we'll have to try and cure me, wont we?"

"So we will." Draco answered, scooping her up and transporting her the scant meters to his room, and that's where they spent the rest of the afternoon.