Author Note: Grace's original name was Lily and it related to a direction I was taking the story in. However, the title and the story line required a name change. So, if I ever miss a "Lily" she is one in the same as "Grace."
Chapter Three:
The cold night air filled the hallway as Grace wandered back towards her quarters. She let her feet carry her where they willed; not knowing the way back to her small apartment like room she figured subconcious decisions might be the faster route. Her mind running at an alarming rate playing and re-playing the events of the day as she sorted through them. She could clearly remember receiving a letter from Dumbledore around 3 am in the morning, then meeting the famous Harry Potter around 6:30 am, going for breakfast, collapsing, waking up, and throwing a fit in the Gryffindor Common Room; all of these events leading her to where she was now, wandering the cold hallways of Hogwarts, lost, terribly lost.
Something caught the attention of Grace, and she quickly removed her gaze from her feet, and looked around at the walls surrounding her. Once discovering the source of disturbance in the dark, quiet hallway, she couldn't help but laugh. There was a small portrait of a man whom she recognized as her father. It seems the man also recognized his daughter wandering the halls of Hogwarts, and had screamed rather loudly to get her attention. When his daughters gaze met his, a smile errupted across his lips.
"Hi Dad! How are you?" Grace asked, taking a step closer to the portrait of her father. She did not resemble him at all. His eyes were dark and clouded, he was short, but buff man, who in this picture had to be no older than seventeen. He was extremely athletic, and had the build of a extremely wonderful seeker, which he was.
"I am splendid, honey. Why are you here, at Hogwa-..." but his voice trailed off as the recent circumstances clicked into place in his head. "They didn't! They did not attack my baby girl. They wouldn't do that."
Grace looked at the grief, surprise, and anger that covered his features all at the same time, and hesitated before answering. "Yes, the did, Papi, but do not worry. I am safe here, and I promise, we will defeat them in no time," her voice sounding more reassuring than she felt. She looked up and caught her portrait father's eyes, smiling as she did so. It was so wonderful to see him again, and not in that dark hallway in her nightmares, however it was a bit disheartening that she could not connect with him. That she could not feel him, touch him, the way she could everyone else. A small laugh escaped her mouth as she realized this is what was considered normal.
"I'll come see you sometime, dad. Bye," and with a small wave of her hand, she turned the corner to find herself standing in front of the statue that marked the entrance to her room. She took a brief glance around her to make sure no one was listening, before muttering the password and gliding up the stairwell to the sanctity of her room.
The Gryffindor common room remained silent for a few moments after Grace's departure, when the dam holding back all sound was broken and yells, questions, whispers, and a desperation for answers flooded the room, reberverating off of the walls.
"What the bloody hell was that?" came the sound of one childs voice.
"Who was she, and why was she attacking Hermione," asked another confused lion.
Harry sat on the coach, staring into the twisting and lashing flames of the fireplace. They didn't know her, no one did. They had no right to attack her, too bad none of the others had been in the common room during Ron's little speech about Riddles. She was kind, beautiful, and so far had not done anything wrong towards any of them. They were all over reacting to a small misunderstanding that only concerned him as it was. But was it really just a misunderstanding? He did not think she could harm him, he had a feeling that she would never hurt him on purpose, or mean to scare him like that. He just knew that she was nothing like the rest of her family, but he had no idea why. There was just something else about her that reminded him of someone, but he could not place a finger on who.
He tuned back into the world around him; the voices and anger had not died down one bit. Filled with a sudden need to talk and see Grace, he stood up abrubtly, much to the surprise of everyone in the common room. He slowly stalked towards the portrait entrance, heads during and eyes following the path he made. As the portrait opened, a familiar voice called after him, "Harry, mate, where are you headed?"
Harry turned to look Ron dead in the eye. "To apologize," and with that he stepped through the portrait and the cold stale air of the hallways welcomed him.
Harry wandered around, his mind racing over the days events, for what seemed like hours before the familiar sound of Grace's voice floated through the air. As he neared where he beleived the sound of her voice was coming from, he realized that she was talking to someone, or something. He slowed his steps so that she could not hear him approaching and peered around the next corner, only to see Grace tilting her head sideways as a portrait spoke to her. A smile emerged on his face, for the fourth time he could recall at her doing this. It was a quirky trait of hers. He shook his head to clear her from his mind, and continued to watch the scene unfold in front of him.
"I am splendid, honey. Why are you here, at Hogwa-..." but his voice trailed off before picking up a new line of thought. "They didn't! They did not attack my baby girl. They wouldn't do that." It took a great amount of self control to not make a sound as he watched Grace and this portrait converse. She was talking to her father. How strange that his portrait would be here, thought Harry.
"Yes, the did, Papi, but do not worry. I am safe here, and I promise, we will defeat them in no time," her voice sounding reassuring. She looked up and caught her portrait father's eyes, smiling as she did so. Harry was amazed at how at ease she seemed speaking to her father in a dark hallway of Hogwarts when she had mentioned to him hours ago that he had been murdered when she was a little girl. Harry's parents died when he was a baby, but he still suspected that no matter how young, she wouldn't remember him.
He refocused his thoughts just as Grace was walking around a corner, and away from the portrait. Harry waited a few moments before emerging from his hiding place, and walking over to the picture. He was amazed at how much father and daughter differed. He had the same dark eyes as Grace, but they were clouded and troubled, not calming and enticing like hers. Harry blocked out what the portrait was saying as he read the small gold plate beneath it, describing what the picture was of. Harry's mouth dropped open as he read the inscription. William Charles Lestrange. Slytherin Seeker. Died March 23, 1981. Harry re-read the inscription four times before fully understanding who he was looking at.
Slowly, facts began to click into place. Grace Riddle was daughter of William Charles Lestrange and Amelia Riddle. It seems she kept her mothers maiden name. William died when Grace was one year old, assuming her birthday was near his date of death. Her father, William, must be the brother or cousin, or have some relation to Rodolphus Lestrange. That would explain why Bellatrix, his wife, would be part of finding and killing Grace, and Harry would bet that Rodolphus, or even his brother, Rabastan, who helped kill off her father, or even her mother. It all made sense. There was more than just Riddle in Grace's blood, but Lestrange as well.
"God, what have you been born into," Harry muttered out loud while walking back to the common room. Whether or not Hermione or Ron cared, they had to know, they had to understand. But a voice in the back of his head told him not to tell them, told him this new information would only make things worse between his two best friends, and this new girls. Harry let out a sigh as he entered the practically empty common room. Only Ron and Hermione were left sitting on the coach, most likely awaiting his return. He didn't even acknowledge them as he walked up the stairs to his dorm room and collapsed, exhausted on his bed.
Morning came all to quickly for Harry, and he was all but enthusiastic to go to breakfast that morning. It would be his first time attending classes since the whole ordeal had started and he had a very strong feeling that he was missing some key details from the day before. He slowly decended the steps into the common room anxious about seeing everyone the 'morning after', so to speak. The moment he entered the common room, silence hit him, and all heads turned to stare at him as he made his way across the common room towards the portrait hole. He caught eyes with Hermione who nodded her head towards the corner. He followed her gaze and understood why everyone was so silent and still.
Harry altered his path and found himself staring down at Grace, who was sitting at a table staring at a letter in her hands. She looked distraught, and Harry felt something in his stomach jump when he thought about her being upset in any way.
"Hey Grace," he said, hoping she would acknowlegde him.
Grace looked up from the peice of parchment in her hand, but she didn't look at Harry. Instead her gaze was cast out the window. Harry turned to follow it, but saw nothing remotely interesting through it, just the usual veiw of the Quidditch pitch and lake.
"Grace," he said once more, this time waving his hand in front of her eyes to revert her gaze back to the present. It worked.
"Good morning, Harry. Can I help you?" She asked, sounding like she had more important things to do than to be talking to him. He turned to walk away but her voice stopped him, "Harry, may I ask you something?"
"Of course you can Grace. You never have to ask," he responded as he sat down across from her. He knew everyone else in the common room would leave to go to breakfast soon, but still he leaned in closer to keep the conversation more private.
She pushed the parchment she was reading across the table to him. He looked down and saw a timetable on it, and he let out a small laugh as he understand why she was distraught. She had no idea what these classes were, let alone where they were.
"I take it you need help finding you classes," he said knowingly, and he looked up to see Grace smiling.
"Something like that," she responded light-heartedly.
"Just your luck, you have every class with Hermione, Ron, and I. I think we can help you find your way," he said, but the smile vanished off her face.
"Look let's head down to breakfast, and from there we will sort out this class bussiness. Don't fret too much about Hermione and Ron, they are just scared. So much for Gryffindor bravery." added Harry, quickly. It was unlike him to stab at his friends, or his house, but the smile that spread across Grace's face made it all worth it.
They walked out of the common room and headed down towards the Great Hall chatting amiably about various subjects.
