A/N- Ok I get that feeling that a really only have one patron to this story...humph.... O well, I'll keep writing. And yes, there will be actual dialogue!

"Well, who is this?" a voice asked from a desk across the room. Amy looked up from the floor and into the small office. It was a small office, having only 3 different furnishings in it: 2 chairs; 1 desk; and heaven knows how many bookshelves. The walls were packed with them, and all were overflowing with papers and files. There were but a few trinkets on the desk in the center of the room. There was a little nameplate on the desk amidst the rampant chaos of magical items. There was a man sitting at the desk, whom had spoken to her. He had a neatly parted head of flaming red hair, coupled by a weary face of freckles. He wore a maroon robe and stood as Amy took a step into the room.

"I thought this was a private meeting!" snapped a woman in a chair in front of the desk. She turned to look at Amy; those deep brown eyes cutting through Amy's own green ones. The woman was a willowy creature, having long arms and legs. Her head was held high even though it seemed to be weighted by a huge brown bun at the back of her head. She wore a long black gown with intricate emerald trimmings that ran about her neckline.

"It is. Well, I mean it was until she came," he muttered to the woman. Amy felt her face begin to burn red as the man turned to face her. "Now, young woman, if you would please excuse us for a few minuets. There is a bench outside the door that you can wait on. I will call you back in when I am ready for you," he said firmly.

Amy wrenched open the door and shut it softly behind her. Looking around, she saw no bench anywhere near. The only place to sit seemed to be at the golden chairs that ran on the outside of the tables. She felt that if she even touched those chairs, the peace and serenity of the hall would change. Each one was perfectly placed there. Not a single chair, fork, or even dust fleck was out of place. Everything was held together it seemed, like there was some sort of presence keeping balances level. But her legs ached suddenly, like she had not sat for a hundred years. She longed to sit on one of those comfortable chairs, to eat upon that fine dinnerware, and to drink from those fine goblets.

'No, the man told me to stay here!' mused one side of her mind. Yet then again, that same driving force spoke again to her, 'But I am weak now, and I don't know what is happening. I should get to sit down for I tire of standing, I should get some sort of an explanation. I should at least get an escort back to Hogwarts!' Amy listened subtly to the war inside her head as her feet carried her to the tables. 'I should not sit down!' mused the losing side. 'I just want to look at the table. It seemed so beautiful from a distance,' said the other side. So, as the rebelling side had said, she quietly circled the tables. The tables seemed to be set like they were at Hogwarts, with golden plates and goblets. But as Amy slowly circled the tables, everything about them began to change. The plates changed from solid gold to shining china with amazingly ornate designs of gold and silver on their rims. The goblets also became swirling crystal and diamonds were increased in the cutlery.

'Who ever set this table...they must be a God for how rich they are,' pried both voices in her mind. Amy lifted her eyes to look about the tables. From just looking at the tables, everything seemed the same. But the again, when she was up to the edge of the table, what ever was set before her seemed to be the same about the table.

"What type of spell could do this?" she whispered to herself. She set her guitar down and pulled out one of the chairs. As she slowly sat down, she ran her hand down the ornamented back of the chair. It didn't even feel like she was sitting on any material, but more on...air. She leaned back. The chair seemed to give her comfort, the kind of comfort that had long ago left her. But it was just a chair.

Suddenly, she heard the sound of a great door opening. She spun around to see two great oak doors slowly opening. There were voices, about 20 of them, coming through that door. Amy hopped up instantly for her chair, knocking it over. It landed with a booming crash that silenced the voices. Amy looked up, wide-eyed, to the voices. There were about 15 people standing there, all dressed elegantly, their robed festooned with fine designs and tassels and charms. All but one of these men was staring at her, their gaze slicing through her like a hundred thousand knives. They began to whisper amongst themselves and turn to consult one man in the middle.

"Silence!" came a mans voice from the heart of the group. The voices did so and separated, forming an isle. The great voice came forth, all the others bowing their heads as he passed. The man, no wait... he wasn't quiet a man yet. Amy guessed about 17, all but a year older than her. He had shoulder length white blonde hair the framed and icy cold face. His eyes we like diamonds, crystal clear and beautiful. He wore a high collared black robe, which had a small Elizabethan collar. His gaze met hers and Amys eyes dropped quickly. She heard his footsteps continue until he was but a foot away from her. He raised his hand and lifted her chin. Her gaze met his and they locked in one another stare of a minuet. He was the first to speak.

"Miss, may I ask you what you are doing in this private dinning hall?' he asked serenely. His voice set icy chills through her. Amy glanced down to the chair that lay a few feet away. The golden chair was cracked, its beauty seemed to have been stunted.

"I was...I..." she stumbled on her words. But right to her rescue, she heard another door being opened. His eyes looked up beyond her. She felt her face glow with embarrassment; they had to look rather silly standing there.

"Ahh, Mr. Wease. Just the man I wanted to talk to," he said. His hand dropped from Amy's chin as he strode briskly past her. Her head dropped, hair clouding her view. Her face burned with embarrassment and her feeble attempts to talk.

'You should have just stayed over there...' mused the wise voice in her head. Inwardly, she kicked herself out stupidity.

"Miss?" Called the redheaded man, "Would you please come here? I am ready to speak with you now." Amy looked up and she turned to face him. The boy was standing next to him still whispering something in his ear as Amy grabbed her guitar. She walked over to him slowly, her feet like weights under her. The 2 men turned, walking back to the office. The elder man laughed. She stared at them, confused and befuddled. Why did they seem so familiar?

A/N- grrr... that took forever to write. But hey, now it's done with and you get to wait another month or so for a new chapter AGAIN! Ha ha ha. Well you should be happy because this chapter has dialogue. O yeah and REVIEW!