Updated: Saturday 25th June 2005

Disclaimer: Not mine. Anything recognisable adapted from GOF

Chapter Ninety-Three: Hit and Miss

Estella climbed the stairs to Dumbledore's office. It was here that she met twice a week for her supplementary Potions lessons.

"Ah, good morning, child." Her wizened old Professor welcomed her, gesturing her to her chair in the small room off Dumbledore's main office. "Your Uncle has requested that we work on the following potion…"

"My Uncle? Have you heard from him?" Estella looked at the teacher hopefully, then eyed the purpose-built box by the door. "Do you mind if I…"

"Not at all, Miss Black." Her Professor nodded amicably. "I daresay your curiosity would only serve to distract you in class."

"Ah, you know me too well, sir." Estella smiled at the friendly, but firm, Potions Master as she forced herself to approach the letterbox at a languid pace. "I regret to say it's my Gryffindor heritage getting the best of me."

"So I've been told." Her Professor smiled.

"There's nothing here!" Estella's face fell. "And he hasn't picked up my last letter yet!"

"He's been extremely preoccupied lately." Her Professor informed her. "Many of the staff have."

"They're trying to find out who made the Portkey, aren't they?" Estella eyed her teacher carefully as she headed back towards her seat. "Well I suppose that's alright then."

"You know about the Portkey?" Her teacher asked her, seeing no need to deny it.

Estella nodded. "Obviously." She rolled her eyes, catching in her peripheral vision, a slight flash emanating from the letterbox. Wasting no time on pretences this time, Estella bolted back to the letter box, wrenching it open to find her letter gone, and a new letter in its place. "I don't understand…" she said, picking up the letter gingerly. "Wouldn't he have to write this in the Headmaster's office and then put it in here directly?"

"I suspect you have one of two of those correct." Her teacher responded from behind her. "However the Headmaster probably acknowledged that we were in a class and…"

Estella didn't get to hear what else her Potions tutor had to say, for she was already out the door and looking out into the hallway at the top of the spiral staircase; where there, as she had hoped, the door to the Headmaster's office opened to reveal her Uncle.

"Uncle Sev!" Estella cried out, capturing the man's attention.

Turning to face his niece, Severus assessed the situation. Deeming it an acceptable risk – since both of their presences within the Headmaster's tower were warranted at that moment – Severus nodded his head in acknowledgement. "Estella."

"It's good to see you again." Estella smiled at him, a glint in her eye.

Severus nodded to her in silent agreement, his attention turning to the child's tutor. "Professor, how is she progressing with the Potion?"

"We, er, haven't started yet." Estella answered, lowering her head. "The letterbox flashed…"

"…which you would not have seen had your eyes been to the front." Severus pointed out, his lips twitching. "Put that away, child. There will be plenty of time to engage in your correspondence while the Potion is simmering." He looked down the stairwell resignedly. "Morning break is over, I need to get to my class. It's good to see you looking well."

Estella tucked the letter into a pocket of her robes and nodded; the three of them going rigid when the tell-tale clunk of Professor Moody's wooden leg signalled the one-legged wizard alighting from the escalating staircase.

"What do we have here?" Moody's gruff voice leered at them. "Family reunion?"

"Hardly." Severus snapped, his eyes turning glacial as he gave a scathing look towards his niece.

"Ah, Severus, you're still here." Albus Dumbledore appeared from behind his office door. "Do not forget those amendments to the third year curriculum."

Severus nodded and scowled before sweeping away in a flourish of robes, not another word spoken. Dumbledore returned his attention to the other people in his audience.

"Ah, Alastor, what an unexpected pleasure to see you gracing my tower this fine morning…" He said, greeting the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher informally. "Now, Miss Black, is there anything I can help you with, or shall you return to your lesson?"

For Moody's benefit, Estella spoke. "No, it's alright." She said. "I was going to ask you a question about phoenix fire before classes started, but I can come back later. It's not relevant to today's lesson."

"Come and see me on your way out." The Headmaster smiled at her, his eye marvelling at her quick-thinking.

Estella nodded and let herself be guided back into the makeshift classroom behind her by her Professor's steering hand on her shoulder; but not before giving a defiant look at Moody as though to say: 'Constant vigilance, Professor – like to see you poke holes in that'

"Extraordinary child." Estella could hear Professor Moody comment as she retreated. Before her Potions Master could close the door behind them, she could also hear Dumbledore's response. "She will be quite the force to be reckoned with in her day."

After that, she could hear no more. "Professor!" She sighed at her teacher. "I was listening to that!"

"I know you were, child." Her Professor regarded her with amusement. "But the sooner we can get this Potion on the boil, the sooner you can address your written work."

"Oh." Estella said, the anticipation returning to her slowly. "Oh! Yeah, right. What Potion are we making again?…"

Incidentally, her uncle's letter to her was full of the same old questions about her studies and behaviour in class. The man was hardly one for sentimental tidings of longing and love; and so she took the man's continued interest in her life as the sign that, despite the feigned appearance in public, he did care for her. Yet when her Uncle moved onto the topic of the second task, his tone changed dramatically. At first Estella's eyes burned with the derision he was expressing towards Harry – the man clearly holding the boy responsible for being a champion, and Estella the one he'd supposedly 'sorely miss' – but then his tone changed, and Estella could sense relief.

I must insist that I did not approve of Minerva's decision to nominate you as the one whom Potter would 'sorely miss'. You have had more than your fair share of cold, dark places.

Estella smiled. There was no word about the suspected intruder or the Portkey, and Estella surmised that either her Uncle didn't know she knew already and didn't want to tell her, or he just didn't want to worry her – probably a bit of both. Her hand ran instinctively to her pendant when her Uncle joined her father in emphasising that she never take it off… it or the ring. Didn't either of them realise that despite their best efforts to the contrary, their insistence that she keep the pendant on her person was a clearer sign as any of their concern for her safety? Still, it made her feel safe to know that so many people worried after her and were going to lengths to protect her – her Uncle by keeping his distance in order to lessen the chance of her being used as a liability against him; and her father by hiding out in Hogsmeade to be nearby in case of emergency.

Her Godfather, too, had been writing to her regularly from his posting as a caretaker for Smeltings, the Muggle school that Harry's cousin apparently attended. Dumbledore had sent him there for purposes of keeping an eye on Harry's blood relative, just how another was apparently placed in a house near the Dursley home in Surrey. Inwardly, Estella wondered if Harry even knew the measures that were taken to ensure his safety… but since she didn't know enough of the specifics (asides from Remus working at his cousin's school) she decided not to say anything unless the boy asked. From the pictures Moony had sent her, he had used a Glamourie Charm to alter his appearance – he now looked more menacing than Hogwart's own caretaker. It was because of this new job that, between his duties and the time he already rostered off each month to transform, he had not been able to get up to Hogsmeade to visit.

Estella had barely finished writing back her correspondence to her Uncle when the Potion was ready for its next stages and she had to continue with her lesson. While many other students may feel under intense scrutiny at the idea of being a Professor's only student, Estella was more than used to it… and in fact, when it came to Potions, she was most accustomed to working in this way. She didn't know if it was because of the wider syllabus she was permitted to study when tutored privately, or because of the minimal distractions, but Estella would even go so far as to say that she preferred learning Potions that way. For unlike other subjects where a partner served a practical purpose, brewing potions with a partner more often than not had stagnating consequences, unless, on the rare occasion, that said partner was of equal competence. But even then, mistakes were more likely to happen… if the incident in Potions class with her Uncle in the past was anything to go by.

"You may leave early today, if you like." Her Professor caught her attention at last. "The Potion is ready for assessment, and your mind seems elsewhere."

"Sorry, Professor." Estella apologised. "I guess I did zone out, didn't I?"

"Don't apologise, child." Her Professor smiled. "I will simply need to inform your Uncle that we're simply not challenging you enough."

Estella groaned. The Potion she had just made was not entirely simple.

"I will see you next week." Her Professor bade farewell kindly, once the Potion was bottled and equipment cleaned. "Do not forget to see the Headmaster on your way out. He will be escorting you to lunch today."

When Estella walked into the Great Hall with the Headmaster several minutes later (she didn't really have a question about phoenix fire), her eyes eagerly sought out her friends. Though she now considered herself and Harry as being close, they still pretty much kept to their own circle of friends… only meeting occasionally at meal times or in the library.

Sitting down at the Ravenclaw table between Elsie and Reginald, with John across from them, Estella settled into the familiar lunchtime banter. Flitting her eyes down the table in interest, Estella noticed Luna sitting by herself. Suddenly remembering what Luna had said that day on the train, about her father's magazine maintaining a theory of her own father's innocence; Estella excused herself from her friends to go and satisfy her building curiosity.

"Hi Luna." Estella said cheerfully, falling into a seat alongside the rather eccentric member of her dorm.

"Estella!" Luna exclaimed, her eyes widening in surprise as though she had just become aware of her classmate's return to the school. "It's good to see you! We've all missed you in Potions."

"I'm sure you have." Estella smiled. "Though you still get to see me in just about every other class again now."

"You were gone so long, Estella. People started to think you had died!" Luna said in hushed, conspiring tones. "But we know better, don't we?"

"Ah yes, what has your father's magazine been publishing lately?" Estella asked. "I am afraid I was unable to keep up with my subscription where I was."

For Christmas in their first year, Luna had bestowed upon her dorm-mates a subscription to The Quibbler. Predictably, the family-proud Raven needed no additional prompting to start rattling off specifics of the magazine's most recent headlines.

"…of course, since we maintain that your father was innocent, we knew you were not in any danger." Luna said matter-of-factly. "Though I admit not even my father had any idea where either of you were." She paused for a moment, then her face lit up. "Say, how would you like to give a personal account…"

"No." Estella said, kindly, but firmly. "It's not something I want to talk about. It's private." She smiled reassuringly. "But I would like to know more about your theories on my father's innocence."

"He is, isn't he?" Luna asked, her naturally wide eyes no longer belying her mood.

"I didn't say that." Estella said. "He's still a wanted fugitive… I just want to know why you think that shouldn't be the case."

Luna was just about to open her mouth and explain her father's theory when Aquila flew into the Great Hall in a graceful swoop, dropping a letter in Estella's lap. Recognising her father's hand, and the stationery as part of the set she had included in her rucksack, Estella made to excuse herself hurriedly.

"Sorry, Luna." Estella said, grabbing a salad roll to go and leaping from her chair. "I got to read this in private."

Luna nodded her understanding idly and returned to dishing up her lunch. With the explicit rule prohibiting her from traipsing the hallways alone, Estella could only retreat to an unoccupied end of the table to read the letter without interruption.

Estella – The rules have changed. Promise me you won't leave your Common Room after curfew. Don't even go outdoors unless it is for a class or you are with a teacher – one you can trust. Harry will explain to you why…

At this, Estella glanced up and over the Gryffindor table where Harry was sitting with his friends, almost visibly squirming in his own chair as he too read over a letter. She read on.

I'm not trying to spoil your fun, sweetheart, I just want to make sure you are kept as safe as possible. If you're after something fun to do, feel free to torture your Uncle.

Estella snorted in amusement and cast her Uncle a look of consideration. Deciding that, in the end, taking advantage of her Uncle like that would hardly be very respectful, Estella returned her attention to the remainder of her letter.

If you do not wish to do that, I understand.

He wrote.

But I do have one favour to ask of you. One that I really must insist upon. Help Harry prepare for the third task. His name wasn't put into the Goblet by accident, Estella, and so he needs to be prepared for anything. Moony tells me that Quidditch has afforded him good reflexes in Defence, but his knowledge of spells is confined to the class' curriculum. I've seen how much you read, kiddo, and I remember how cool headed you were that day in Hogsmeade. Help him through this, please? Keep me up to date on his progress, I will help you where I can.

Love, Dad.

Estella spirited the letter away to a hidden pocket in her robes and stormed over to the Gryffindor table for some answers. What had happened to make her father so worried? Why did he insist on her not leaving her rooms after dark? It wasn't as though she enjoyed the dark and was at risk of making a habit of nocturnal wanderings. For all intensive purposes, the trip to the Prefect's bathroom was a once-off.

"Who's he, to lecture me about being out of bounds?" Estella could hear Harry say with indignation as she approached him from behind. "After all the stuff he did at school!"

"He's worried about you!" said Estella sharply, looming over him and letting her presence known. Snatching his letter away from him before he had a chance to put it away, she squeezed into a seat next to him and scanned the letter.

"No one's tried to attack me all year," said Harry when he had seen that Estella had finished reading her father's letter to him. "No one's done anything to me at all –"

"Except put your name in the Goblet of Fire," said Hermione. "And they must've done that for a reason, Harry. Snuffles is right. Maybe they've been biding their time. Maybe this is the task they're going to get you."

"Look," said Harry impatiently, "let's say Snuffles is right, and someone Stunned Krum to kidnap Crouch. Well, they would've been in the trees near us, wouldn't they? But they waited 'til I was out of the way until they acted, didn't they? So it doesn't look like I'm their target, does it?"

"Harry!" Estella cried out. "What were you thinking? Going off with Krum like that in the first place?"

"They couldn't have made it look like an accident if they'd murdered you in the forest!" said Hermione. "But if you die during a task –"

"They didn't care about attacking Krum, did they?" said Harry. "Why didn't they just polish me off at the same time? They could've made it look like Krum and I had a duel or something."

"Harry, I don't understand it either," said Hermione desperately. "I just know there are a lot of odd things going on, and I don't like it… Moody's right – Snuffles is right – you've got to get in training for the third task, straight away. And make sure you write back to Snuffles and promise him you're not going to go sneaking off alone again."

"Fine." Harry grumbled, his eyes meeting the fathomless grey eyes of his Godfather as he stared into the eyes of the man's daughter, as though she were a conduit. "Estella." He said suddenly. "How did you know to come over here? How did you know who that letter was from?"

Estella smiled knowingly and gestured towards the window where the post owls came and went. "You're not the only one who got a letter, Harry." Estella said. "Though by all definitions I am sure if my father could have used his wand without detection he'd have made yours a Howler."

"So what, you came over here to give me a piece of your mind?" Harry said impatiently. "Well take a number and get in line, can't you see I'm already copping it on all sides here?"

"Relax, Potter." Estella brushed off his curt tone. "I'm here to help you." Harry raised a brow at her. "I've been told you need to work on hexes and stuff like that for the next task."

"Snuffles asked you to help me, didn't he?" Harry sighed, a resigned look on his face.

Nodding, Estella pulled out her wand and toyed with it in her hands. "I think he seems to think that you have a problem with asking for people's assistance." She said levelly. "Though I would have offered anyway, if only to practice myself if nothing else." Harry gave her an incredulous look. "Come on, it'll be fun!"

Across from them, at the Slytherin table, Draco Malfoy watched the exchange with interest; his pale grey eyes glinting with hatred. Inwardly, he was conflicted… here was someone whom he had once considered a friend, consorting with his nemesis with a familiarity that burned at his irises like a naked flame. When his father had told him how his bona fide Black 'cousin' had returned from the past, part of Draco had been intrigued to find out what times were like back then… however, as his father went on to further inform him, the girl had done unspeakable things in defiance of their Dark Lord; aligning herself with the light under her father's petulant influence.

Her father.

Draco had known since the end of his third year when the supposedly dead Peter Pettigrew sought refuge at his family's expansive estate, that Sirius Black was innocent of all his charges. It amazed the morally inept blonde boy to no end that an altruistic, Muggle-loving society could be so blind as to condemn one of their own. Their hypocrisy amused him.

Why then, that a girl of such intellect would rather side with an evidently weaker opponent, was beyond the Slytherin's capacity of thought. Were they both, as children, so powerfully swayed by their respective father's influences? Could he begrudge her for falling victim to her father's whims? By all accounts she was still the same person… sharp witted, bright, independent – at least that's what he could still see of her from afar, for the girl went to great lengths to avoid him.

If the constant barrage of letters from his father were anything to go by, Draco thought, she had good reason.

Lucius Malfoy had been writing persistently ever since the girl's return to the school, trying to engineer his son into the position where he could best serve his interests in 'completing his business' with the Black child. The older Slytherin was incensed to learn from his son about his one encounter with the girl, alone in the hallway, in that it was a wasted opportunity to seek his ends. Ever since then, the onus had been on the young Malfoy heir to do his father's bidding – bringing the girl to him. But Draco was at a loss. Estella's own Uncle could not even get near the girl – the Headmaster having anticipated his housemaster's displeasure at his niece's 'betrayal' and taking the necessary steps to protect the child. If Severus Snape couldn't get anywhere near her, then how could his father expect Draco to? He'd dared to tell his father as such, but the man seemed to think that, as a student and established acquaintance of the teen, he would be able to slip in undetected. That Estella never went anywhere by herself anymore was not a deterrent for his father, the man somehow managing to have a piece of parchment charmed into a Portkey that would activate upon her touch no matter where she was within the warded School grounds.

"Use it to write her a letter." He wrote him earlier that day. "I want that girl in my dungeons by nightfall."

Draco did not know what to do. While he did not like that she had changed sides, she was still a pureblood. After being raised to hate and look down upon Mudbloods and Muggles, it contradicted his sense of class structure to turn on one of his own. He couldn't see the merit in condemning the girl for something she did to someone he himself had not even met, nor pledged an allegiance to. The said Dark Lord was weak and might never return to full power. It was not on a Malfoy's agenda to take such gambles without guaranteed promise of reward. Of course Draco suspected that his father was driven by a much more personal vendetta… the girl evidently have done something to err the proud Slytherin… but even then, Draco did not find that reason enough to be his father's instrument. Lucius Malfoy was hardly one to play fair, and if left to his wrath, Estella would stand no chance.

No matter what she did, and no matter how much Draco loathed the fact she consorted with the enemy; no pureblood – well, none of her breeding anyway, deserved that. It wasn't honourable. Staring down at the incriminating piece of blank parchment in his hand, Draco thereby made his decision.

"Incendio" He cast softly, watching the fine linen thread turn to ash on his plate. He'd write and tell his father that something must have happened to the owl… knowing full well that his father wouldn't put it past Dumbledore to intercept the girl's correspondence covertly. Hopefully his father would see reason and not punish him for it. Hopefully the points he scored in his father's good books after he'd alerted the older Malfoy of Estella's involvement in the second task would allow him this one indiscretion.

For the next few days Estella and the three Gryffindors spent all of their free time either in the library, looking up hexes, or else in empty classrooms, which they snuck into to practise. Harry was concentrating on the Stunning Spell, which he had never used before. The trouble was that practising it involved certain sacrifices on the other participant's parts.

"Can't we kidnap Mrs Norris?" Ron suggested during Monday lunchtime, as he lay flat on his back in the middle of their Charms classroom, having just been Stunned and re-awoken by Harry for the fifth time in a row. Estella looked over at the redhead Gryffindor with a newfound appreciation, her eyes flashing mischievously in agreement.

"Let's Stun her for a bit." Estella suggested.

"Or you could use Dobby, Harry. I bet he'd do anything to help you. I'm not complaining or anything" – Ron got gingerly to his feet, rubbing his backside – "but I'm aching all over…"

"Well, you keep missing the cushions, don't you!" said Hermione impatiently, rearranging the pile of cushions they had used for the Banishing Spell, which Flitwick had left in a cabinet. "Just try and fall backwards!"

"Once you're Stunned, you can't aim too well, Hermione!" said Ron angrily. "Why don't you take a turn?"

"Well, I think Harry's got it now, anyway," said Hermione hastily. "And we don't have to worry about Disarming, because he's been able to do that for ages… I think we ought to start on some of these hexes this evening."

She looked down the list they had made in the library.

"I like the look of this one," she said, "this Impediment Jinx. Should slow down anything that's trying to attack you, Harry. We'll start with that one."

Estella nodded. "Now you've grasped the execution of these spells, I would like to test your duelling ability." She said. "Knowing the incantations is one thing… whether or not you can aim and pull them off under pressure – especially if you're on the defensive – is another bag of bludgers."

"Oh, yes, Professor Black." Harry teased, sobering under her patent Snape glare. "Merlin you're a face of contradictions, you know that?"

"You'll thank me one day, Harry." Estella said simply. "We duel tonight."

"You're on." Harry shook her hand in formal agreement.

"Prepare to meet thy doom." Estella said in a dramatic stage voice, smiling benevolently at the unsuspecting teen. Sure, Harry was light on his feet, but Estella knew more spells than he did and, recalling the words of the boy's grandfather, she was no longer going to hold back. Harry's life depended on it.

The bell rang. They hastily shoved the cushions back into Flitwick's cupboard, and slipped out of the classroom, going their separate ways.

"See you at dinner!" said Estella to the boys, waving over her shoulder as Hermione proceeded to accompany her to her next class, which was incidentally right next to the fourth year Arithmancy classroom.

They all should have been revising for their exams, which were set to be completed on the day of the final task, but true to the urgency in Sirius' tone, they were all equally committed to helping Harry prepare for the task.

"Don't worry about it," Hermione said shortly, when Harry pointed this out to them, and said he didn't mind practising on his own for a while. "At least we'll get top marks in Defence Against the Dark Arts, we'd never have found out about all these hexes in class."

"Good training for when we're all Aurors," said Ron excitedly, attempting the Impediment Jinx on a wasp that had buzzed into the room, and making it stop dead in mid-air.

"Besides, I really enjoy whipping your arse in duelling." Estella smirked, referring to the solid victory the Gryffindor-blooded Ravenclaw didn't hesitate to lord over the boy-who-lived.

"Yeah, but you didn't play fair!" Harry snorted indignantly. "You used spells I didn't know!"

"Oh well I apologise then." Estella said mockingly. "Next time when I duel a Dark Wizard I'll be sure to make sure to stay within the confines of what they know; as I am sure they will courteously do for me… not!"

"Estella's right, Harry." Hermione goaded him. "She beat you fair and square. In the very least you could have dodged those spells."

"I thought you were going to go easy on me!" Harry groaned, cracking his back at the memory of the impact with the wall.

"OK, so maybe I put a little too much power in that Disarming spell." Estella admitted, sheepishly. "But I was testing your shield." She turned serious. "You really have to work on those, though to your credit I wouldn't have beaten you if I hadn't already spent so much time studying your technique and learning how to read your intentions."

"How do you manage your shields?" Harry said. "You're so good at them…"

"Well I've had years more to practise, that's why… and I think my Pendant helps with shields" Estella shrugged. "Plus, I have disciplined mind control. You're too focused on the third task, Harry. You need to clear your mind."

"Merlin, Estella, you're beginning to sound like Trelawney!" said Ron, shaking his head.

"I don't mean it like that." Estella clarified. "Have you ever thought about learning how to occlude your mind, Harry? I have become so much more focused in my casting since I did."

"What's that? Can you teach me?" Harry asked, eager to try anything that would help him.

"Occlumency, Harry." Estella rolled her eyes. "I cannot teach you because you need to be licensed to do that I think - mind magic is a very fine art – but I have a book that might help you. I'll lend it to you on one provision."

"What's that?" Harry asked warily.

"Don't let anyone know you've got it." Estella said. "Books of its kind are in limited print. The book I'm referring to has been in the Snape family for generations."

"Snape gave it to you?" Harry paled, thinking of what said teacher would do to him if he was caught with such a heirloom.

"No." Estella drawled sarcastically. "The Easter Bunny did. Of course he gave it to me. How else was he to teach me Occlumency?"

"You'll loan me a book that… that… he gave you?" Harry stared at her like she had morphed an extra head.

"It won't bite, Harry. It's not one of Hagrid's texts." She sighed. "I trust you will take good care of it and return it once you've benefited from it."

"But why?" Harry was flabbergasted. "Why loan me a book that obviously means so much…"

"Because we're as good as family, Harry." Estella reminded him. "I've as much as said so before. What's more, you're my friend, and this will help you…" she smiled slightly. "And if you don't take care of it I know I will be fully capable of hexing you where the Four-Point Spell won't point… and if I'm not, my Uncle will surely avenge the book how he sees fit."

"Uh, well, thanks… I guess." Harry gulped. Ron was crimson red in sympathy, and Hermione looked like a dog without a bone – her keen bookish mind piquing in curiosity.

As the date of the third task loomed closer, Sirius began sending daily owls. Like the rest of them, he seemed to want to concentrate on getting Harry through the last task, before they concerned themselves with anything else. He reminded Harry in every letter that whatever might be going on outside the walls of Hogwarts was not Harry's responsibility, nor was it within his power to influence it.

If Voldemort is really getting stronger again, my priority is to ensure your safety. He cannot hope to lay hands on you while you are under Dumbledore's protection, but all the same, take no risks: concentrate on getting through that maze safely, and then we can turn our attention to other matters.

As much as Estella tried to remind herself of the conversation she'd had with her father on the rooftop during one of their first nights together – when Sirius had assured her that Harry would never come between them and he'd always put her first. Lately she'd been feeling as though the man was asking after her less and less… he'd even stopped writing to her entirely – choosing instead to mention her in passing in Harry's letters. But even then everything centred around Harry, with her father using that space to remind her to teach Harry this or to do that or rather. Then, with Remus unable to get away from the 'mission' Dumbledore had sent him on – one that incidentally prevented him from sending too many Owls after the Muggle students began targeting the 'strange phenomenon' with rocks and the like – and her Uncle unable to visit her at night ever since she decided to tell him about Moody having the Marauder's Map; Estella felt increasingly alone.

This feeling of despondency was only made worse by the fact that her grief for her mother and the people she had come to know in the past was still largely ignored and unknown by those around her, yet it was still extremely real for her. At times when she felt her 'family' was neglecting her, the loss of those she had left in the past became all the more apparent.

While it comforted her to know that she was building between herself, Elsie and the boys, the same sort of confidence and camaraderie that Selina, Lily and the Marauders had enjoyed but not quite inducted her into; she still missed the company of the 1975 students. But while she felt more included and closer to her friends in this time, she feared losing them just as much, if not more so for in both instances, she was forced to keep secrets. With her mother and father's teenaged selves, it was the revelation that she was their daughter from the future… and with her Ravenclaw friends, it was the fact that her father was innocent and that she still cared very deeply for her Uncle. The only people Estella could be truly honest with were Harry and his two friends… but that was just it, they were his friends. She still felt like an outsider: they were older and had classes in common and were in the same house, different from hers.

Part of her wanted to tell Elsie, Reginald and John her secret, but as much as she wanted to test their loyalty and assure herself their integrity as her friends, there was simply too much at stake… both with maintaining her father's freedom and her uncle's status as well as protecting her friends from being targeted. They couldn't after all, hide what they did not know.

It was a matter of small irony that Estella acknowledged that she was actually more open and honest with the Ravenclaw trio before the events of the previous Summer. At the time they'd all assumed Sirius Black's guilt and accepted that, as Severus Snape's charge, she'd be prone to having 'friends' in Slytherin House. The clever Ravenclaws were open and willing to accept Estella at that time because all they saw was a bright student worthy of their house… and yet still, Estella had kept them at arm's length; spending a lot of her time with her Uncle (and later Godfather) and keeping up appearances with Draco. Now that she was actually open to her fellow Raven's companionship, Estella was suffocated by the myriad of lies and masks she had to hide behind. The period between the previous Summer and the New Year was a no-fly zone for discussion, her Uncle was supposed to despise her for being her father's daughter, and she was supposed to fear her father, the dangerous fugitive. Inquisitive though the Ravenclaws may be, Estella was thankful that they were not openly nosy or curious like Members of the other houses may have been in their stead. The bookish Ravens respected her boundaries and rolled with the waves, continuously forward in their thinking… but even then, Estella knew that they would be subjective to the truths she concealed.

Subsequently, Estella became quiet and withdrawn, alone in her grief and indecision. Ironically enough, everyone simply thought that she was concerned for Harry… worried about how he would fare – but nothing could be further from the truth. Estella had great faith in Harry, and was confident that they had done everything in their power to prepare him as best as they could. If anything she was sad because James wasn't there to see how well his son was doing.

On the morning of the third task, breakfast was a very noisy affair at all four of the House tables. It had become almost habit for Estella to dine with the Gryffindors now… the time she spent there taking her mind off of other things as she drilled the Gryffindor champion on duelling scenarios and outcomes as she had been taught. When yet another post owl from Sirius, this time a good luck card fashioned from Padfoot's paw and the parchment she'd given him; and again no word for her, Estella's heart sank to new depths. Deep down she knew her father hadn't forgotten about her… deep down she knew he was simply short on resources and time… deep down she knew that everyone was in their right mind to be worried first and foremost about the boy-who-may-not-live-much-longer, but Estella was still but a child… barely thirteen… and she couldn't help but hurt.

Suddenly feeling claustrophobic, Estella excused herself from the table.

"Don't you think someone should go with you if you leave the Great Hall?" Harry asked worriedly, mindful of Sirius' conditions.

"I'm sick of being around people, 24/7 Harry." Estella snapped. "Can I not even go to the bathroom in peace?"

"I can go with, if you like?" Hermione offered, putting down her napkin.

"Don't be ridiculous, Hermione. You're eating." Estella said, shaking her head. "Besides, if someone's daring enough to attack two school champions, no less, then what's to stop them from attacking two girls in a hallway?"

"Well that's that, then." Ron said, going to stand. "We all go."

"That wasn't my point, Ronald." Estella scowled. "I meant to say I am just as safe ducking out to the john by myself as I am taking a guard of honour. Now for goodness sake, just sit down and eat your goddamn breakfast and let me have some peace!"

"Estella's right." Harry said finally. "We're way too paranoid. It's broad daylight outside." He turned to Estella, but she was already gone.

Fifteen minutes later, and the Gryffindors were still waiting for Estella to return.

"Are you sure she just didn't head over to the Ravenclaw table?" Ron asked for the fifth time that minute. "She could have come and gone off with a bunch of them."

"No, I haven't seen her come back!" Harry scowled, his face lined with worry. "Besides, her friends are still sitting at the table, look!" He pointed jerkily. "Plus she knows I would worry, she would have come here first."

"Maybe she's just taking an extra long time in the bathrooms." Hermione said uncomfortably, her mind running over a plausible list of scenarios as to why the young Ravenclaw was taking so long. "Would you like me to go check on her?"

"Would you?" Harry asked, his face relaxing slightly. "We'll come with you… well, not inside… but you know…"

The search of the toilets surrounding the Great Hall proved fruitless.

"There's no sign of her in any of the cubicles." Hermione said as she exited from the girl's bathroom looking slightly pink from having barged in on a unsuspecting first year. "Have you asked the portraits?"

"They haven't seen her come this way either." Harry frowned. "And she would have had to have come this way if she wanted to go anywhere else inside the castle."

"What if she didn't want to go somewhere else inside the castle?" Ron asked forebodingly, his eyes flicking towards the entrance hall they had just walked through with the big castle door open wide, flooding the entrance way with beams of early summer sun.

"You don't think…" Hermione gasped, looking out the door. "Why would she lie about where she was going? Why would she go outside by herself?"

"Maybe she wanted to sneak a look at the maze for Harry." Ron shrugged, edging towards the doorway.

"Or maybe she wanted to sneak off and see Snuffles." Harry said, his jaw set in a line of concern.

"Oh Harry…" Hermione's eyes went wide. "Do you think she's run away?" She shook her head sadly. "We should have seen it coming, Harry… look at how quiet she's been lately."

"She hasn't been quiet, what are you talking about?" Harry snapped, his brow knotted. "She's been too busy drilling me on defence tactics."

"She's been redirecting her anxieties, Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, hitting her head as though a light had just gone off and it was too bright for her eyes. "I don't know why I didn't see it sooner!"

"See what, Hermione?" Ron and Harry called out after her as Hermione started to run towards the Owlery. "Where are you going?"

"The Owlery. We have to Owl Snuffles." Hermione said, urging the boys into action.

After sending the fastest owl they could find, the Gryffindors did not have to wait long for a reply. At first it looked as though the hastily scrawled note had returned to them unopened, but upon closer inspection, the back of their parchment was emblazoned with a single, muddy paw print.

"Do you think that means he's on his way?" Ron asked, confused.

"Well it certainly looks like he didn't have time to dawdle." Hermione snapped. "Come on, let's go find Dumbledore."

Eerily enough, Professor Dumbledore was waiting for them at the foot of the spiral staircase, the gargoyle already moved aside as though in anticipation for their arrival.

"Quickly now, upstairs." Dumbledore said gravely. "Snuffles is waiting."

How on earth had Sirius gotten to the school so quickly… and undetected?

"Portkey." The all-knowing Headmaster had supplied in answer to their unasked question as he ushered them through his office door, sealing it behind him with a series of privacy charms that not even Moody's mad-eye could see through… marauder's map at his disposal or no.

When the threesome walked into Dumbledore's office to see Sirius sprawled on the floor frantically upending Estella's school trunk and rifling through it desperately, they looked to Dumbledore for answers.

"I think you should sit down." Was all he said. "Sirius, any luck?"

"None." Sirius said in a half-strangled sob. "Harry, why didn't you go straight to Dumbledore? Why did you leave her alone?"

"She said she was just going to the bathroom… I didn't see the harm…" Harry began awkwardly.

"Didn't see the harm? DIDN'T SEE THE HARM?" Sirius said erratically, his darkened grey eyes piercing into Harry's face as he waved his hands around hysterically. "Just like you didn't see the harm in walking through the Forbidden Forest with Krum? Harry!"

"Your Godfather is demonstrably upset, Harry." Dumbledore explained. "Yet I find I must also ask why you did not seek me out."

"I… I…" Harry stumbled over his words, feeling uncomfortably responsible for his Godfather's distress.

"We didn't realise she'd left the castle at first." Hermione explained. "It wasn't until the portraits in the entrance hall told us she hadn't gone into the castle and I couldn't find her in the bathroom anywhere…"

"We figured she'd snuck off to see you on a whim." Ron added. "We thought if we'd Owl you, you'd be able to intercept her faster than we could catch up…"

"Nonsense." Sirius said gruffly. "Estella knew not to try and see me. She knew the dangers."

"Then why else did she go out by herself then?" Harry said exasperatedly.

"She went to the lake." Sirius said thickly. "It was her mother's favourite place at Hogwarts too."

"But why would Estella go there alone when she knew the rules? Is she back?" Hermione was confused. They knew where she was but were acting like they didn't?

"Estella is a solitary creature by nature." Dumbledore observed. "Growing up an only child, she rather came to enjoy her own company. Miss Granger I am sure you can relate." Hermione nodded. "I daresay we were asking too much in insisting that the child align herself with other students at all times."

"She wanted to be left alone?" Ron cried. "That's it?"

Sirius meanwhile sunk back on his knees and leant against the armchair in defeat. "I should have known… I should have paid more attention," he said sadly, his hands fisting a handful of letters from himself that his daughter had cherished… hidden… in a secret compartment in her trunk. "I've been so caught up in the task… we've all been so caught up… I didn't write! Moony can't write her, and her Uncle has to pretend to hate her… how could I be so dense? My baby needed me and I wasn't there!"

"Sirius, Sirius, it will be alright." Harry said softly, coming to rest on his knees by his incoherent Godfather's side. "You said yourself she's down by the lake, right? So we just go and get her, right?"

"But she's not at the lake, Harry." Sirius said, strangling back a sob as he jerked away from his Godson's hesitant touch on his shoulder. "Not anymore." He added, his voice barely audibly.

"Well why aren't we out there looking for her then?" Harry reeled back on his heels, ready to pounce up and spring into action.

"Harry." Dumbledore said, looking older and wearier than Harry had ever seen him. "Harry, do sit down."

"Someone's taken her, haven't they?" Hermione said fearfully, her eyes wide.

Dumbledore sighed, his eyes droopy and sad, as he sat behind his desk and pulled a familiar length of wood from his drawer. It was Estella's wand.

Harry swallowed heavily and exchanged mortified looks with Hermione and Ron before looking over at Sirius, who had his head buried in his hands.

"What… what happened?" He managed hoarsely, his throat suddenly dry.

"Estella did indeed go to the lake, most likely for purposes of getting some time to herself." Dumbledore explained. "When I returned from breakfast and looked out my window, I could see the child conversing with a man."

Three heads shot up… a man? What man?

"… a man, through assistance of Polyjuice or glamour, she believed she knew." Dumbledore sighed. "A man I recognised and thought I knew."

"Who was it?" Harry said demandingly.

"Benson Ollerton." Dumbledore said heavily. "Like Estella must have done, I assumed the man was simply coming to pay me a visit."

Ron's face lit up as he recognised the name. "But how would Estella know a broom maker?"

"Because I introduced Mr Ollerton to her as a man that could be trusted." Dumbledore said regretfully, mindful that other than Harry and Sirius, the other two people in the room merely thought Estella had spent the first part of the academic year bonding with her father – in present time.

"With all due respect, sir, how do you know it wasn't Benson Ollerton who took her?" Hermione asked politely.

"I left my office to greet my old friend." Dumbledore said wearily. "And to escort Miss Black back inside. When I got there they were gone, leaving her wand." He paused. "On my way back to the castle, I encountered a house elf from the Ollerton estate, bearing news that Mr Ollerton had been attacked and was in a bad way. They warned me against the risk of an impostor and urged me to keep Estella away from them as the one who had attacked Mr Ollerton was asking questions about her. I didn't have the heart to tell the poor elf that their news was too little too late." He looked to Sirius sympathetically. "By the time I got back to my office, Sirius had received your owl and used his emergency Portkey to get here. We had been hoping Estella may have arranged the meeting with the false Mr Ollerton in advance and we'd have some sort of lead to go on…" He gestured to the trunk they'd sent house elves to retrieve.

Harry was positively livid. "He found a way to get to her then, through Ollerton." Harry said angrily, looking as though he were going to throw up. "Why aren't we doing anything about it? We can't just give up! We know full well who's got her!"

"Who would that be?" Ron asked dumbly.

"Malfoy." Sirius and Harry both spat.

"I assure you Sirius… Harry… that I have called in the assistance of a few old friends to help us recover Estella." Dumbledore assured them gently. "In the meantime, however, it would be imprudent to alert the school."

"What?" Harry roared. "A student goes missing and you want to continue like nothing happened? How am I supposed to do the task?"

"Yes, Dumbledore, tell me, is this another of your 'passing threats'?" Sirius intoned darkly, his head rising to make cool eye contact with the man.

"Benson Ollerton was supposed to be dead. He wasn't supposed to have a house elf that could warn us; nor was anyone to see Estella with the impostor by the lake." Dumbledore explained. "If we let it be known that we know Estella has been kidnapped and not simply run away, then we destroy any chance of surprise that we have."

Sirius grunted in reluctant agreement. "I don't like sitting here on my hands, Dumbledore. My daughter is out there… Merlin knows…" His voice trailed off brokenly. "I have to do something!"

"Keep yourself safe, Sirius." Dumbledore said. "Be there for Harry." He looked at Harry sadly. "I am afraid that there is no way of postponing the third task." He regarded both of them sternly. "I assure both of you that every effort has been made to secure Estella's safe return." He took a deep breath. "Children, if anyone asks where Miss Black is, simply say that she is sitting a Potions Exam in my office. I know this is a great burden that I am asking you to carry, but I do hope that you will rise to the occasion."

"I don't understand." Hermione frowned. "Estella is so cautious. Why would she trust the form of Benson Ollerton so much to let her guard down?"

"Yeah, doesn't he live out of the country?" Ron asked, ever a source on anything Quidditch of Broom related.

"Well… about that." Dumbledore said. "Harry, Sirius… I believe it's time we told them where Estella's really been…"

Estella's mouth fell open in surprise as she felt the innocent-looking wood beneath her hands tugged behind her navel and whirl her away in a flurry of colour. The broom was a Portkey! Coming to a harsh landing in a cool, dimly lit, sparsely furnished stonewalled room, Estella sucked in a steadying breath and rose to her feet warily. She was suddenly aware of her pendant and ring burning fiercely.

"I had only five minutes before the blocking charm I cast on that jewel of yours wore off." The congenial voice of Mr Ollerton leered at her as his form appeared from the shadows, holding the broomstick. "Luckily I picked a good rouse with the broomstick idea. The real Benson Ollerton was quite helpful with information." The friendly smile Estella had associated with the business-weary broom-maker started to morph into a sneer she knew only too well. "Of course I had to curse him within an inch of his life to extract it."

Estella stumbled backwards, fumbling for her wand. "You!" She gasped, panic building inside when she realised she must have dropped her wand when the Portkey had activated.

"Is that anyway to greet an old friend?" Lucius Malfoy smiled malevolently, feigning a hurt look. "Whatever happened to calling me Uncle Lucius?"

Estella gasped in alarm when the Malfoy menace raised his hand and levelled his wand at her; the pendant around her neck not letting up on its warning.

"You were never my Uncle." Estella spat. "You're nothing but a brown nosing inbreed whose only choice of suitor was the bastard spawn that no self-respecting family would want to marry."

Lucius tightened his grip on his wand so much that his knuckles were opaque. "If you think that little pesky alarm of yours is burning painfully, you've seen nothing yet." He sneered warningly.

"Oh what, you're going to curse me?" Estella questioned haughtily. "Why make me drop my wand? Not man enough to duel me like a proper Wizard?"

"Enough!" Lucius roared, recognising Estella's goading as delay tactics that would give her opportunity to plot her next defensive move. Indeed, as he studied the child warily, he could see her eyes stealing furtive glances at her surroundings, as though measuring up places to run or escape to. He smiled victoriously – there was no way out except through him – "Let's see how long you manage to keep that smart mouth of yours, Hmmm?" He waved his wand at her. "Crucio!"

End Chapter: Hit and Miss