A/N: hi! I'm back, and I had loads of fun. We came in first in the national competition and so everyone's happy. A lot of stuff is happening now with prom and exams and graduation and things are getting hectic. I'll try to update often, but I cant promise a chapter every three days like it used to do. Thanks for all the reviews. I love you guys. A writers every wish. lol :-) Now enough blabbing, on to the story.

A/N2: Thanks a bunch and then some to my beta Charlie:)

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- - - - CHAPTER 6 - - - -

Angelina landed with an undignified yelp and fell over. The muggle remote fell to the floor next to her head, the noise echoing eerily. She struggled to her feet and lit her wand, casting a small orb of light around her. The rest of the room was in complete darkness.

"What the hell?" she whispered to herself.

Her knees still ached where she had fallen hard on them, and she couldn't seem to shake the feeling of dread. Dumbledore had wanted to talk to her. Well then, where was he?

She lifted her wand high above her head, listening hard for any sounds. The light caught a door at the far end of the empty room and she made her way towards it. As she got closer she could see that the room beyond the door was lit. Turning the knob, wand held high, she pushed the door open.

The room beyond was just as large as the last one but was more inviting. A fire blazed in the fireplace, various furniture was scattered around the room, and a table containing tea and biscuits lay in the middle of the room.

Angelina stepped wearily into the room and jumped as the door slammed shut behind her. She went to try to turn the knob again but it wouldn't turn.

"Ah. Hello, Ms. Johnson."

The voice had come from the other side of the room and Angelina jumped again. She turned around and met the blue eyes of her former headmaster. Angelina took a second to let her heart settle. She then took another second to get her first good look of the headmaster since she, Fred, and George had gotten in trouble their third year and been called to his office.

Angelina literally gasped at the changes that were there. Dumbledore seemed to have aged a couple decades. His skin hung loosely on his solemn face, his eyes looked sad, the blue depths having lost much of their sparkle, and even his beard seemed to be wilting.

His smile was as warm as usual, but the lines of worry at his brows seemed to be a new permanent feature.

"Sorry I wasn't here to receive you. I was called away to business at the last second," he replied gently. "I am hoping you are ok? I have heard word that your parents are better."

She snapped out of her daze.

"It was you who sent the letter then, sir?" she asked, hoping that, at last, she could grasp a hold of something familiar. She had not expected to feel so wrong footed at meeting the man that had overseen her learning process for seven years.

"Ah, no, Ms. Johnson. I did not send that warning letter," he replied with a slight sigh. He walked over to the armchair in front of the table and sat down heavily.

Angelina grew anxious with worry. It didn't help for her to see the headmaster making a slow and tired trip over to the armchair.

She sat across from him on a similar chair and took a cup of tea. She was nervous again with thinking about the anonymous letter. She started ladling spoons and spoons of sugar into her cup, just to have something to do.

Dumbledore smiled at her. "Anymore sugar, Ms. Johnson, and you'll turn into a crystal fire fairy," he said, the twinkle returning to his eyes. "At least that is what my Aunt Gertrude would tell me when I was a little boy. But I suppose I never did believe her, so you may be in no danger at all."

Angelina tried to think about the statement as she vanished her cup and conjured a new one with apple juice instead.

"Well, I'm just nervous," she admitted finally. "If you didn't send the letter, then who did?"

Dumbledore's eyes turned serious again. "You will soon find out, my dear."

He got up and vanished the tray with the tea and biscuits, including her cup of juice. He turned towards another door at a farther end of the room, presumably the one he had entered through. Angelina got up to follow.

He turned around to face her before opening the door.

"We are in a time of war, as you well know, Ms. Johnson. You are at the headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix. It is an order dedicated to fighting all who support the war. Many have been victim to the harshness of this war and not all have dealt well. Remember, it is through cooperation and support that we can truly benefit the causes."

At the end of the speech there was a quiet pop sound and a single red and orange feather floated to land in Dumbledore's hands.

"Fawkes," he said with a grin. "I am needed to go away again. Please proceed to the end of the hall, Ms. Johnson. All your answers can be found there."

He opened the door for her and Angelina stepped out into the dimly lit hallway. She walked a few steps, but then turned back, hoping to ask the headmaster one last question. When she turned around, however, both headmaster and feather were gone. Fawkes was the Dumbledore's phoenix, she remembered at last. She turned back around and made her way towards the door at the very end of the hall.

By the time she had reached the all-important door, she was furious again. Dumbledore had told her absolutely nothing. Yes there was a war. Yes there needed to be cooperation. But how was she suddenly involved?

She angrily pushed open the door and was greeted with the sound of shuffling footsteps. Someone else was in the room, but she couldn't see them. She took out her wand and lit the tip. She was weary of stepping into the room and stood at the very edge of the doorway, peering inside. After a few moments of nothing from her companion, she gave a frustrated growl and stepped all the way inside. The door slammed shut behind her for the second time that night, but she didn't care.

The room was dark and the shadowy form in the corner refused to face her. Angelina was tired of these games. She didn't like this place and she felt very alone with neither Oliver nor Fred there with her.

"Who are you? Tell me why you sent me the warning!" She demanded at last.

The figure rose from where it had been crouched. Within a second it had turned around and a vibrant pair of emerald green eyes turned to face her.

Angelina bit back a gasp and narrowed her eyes at the gaunt and haunting face that looked towards her. Had she not known better, she would have thought she was standing face to face with an Azkaban fugitive.

"Harry!"

In an instant she had been disarmed and her wand was flying through the air towards his outstretched hands. Angelina could see no sign of a wand for himself.

They stood there, facing each other. It was almost like the muggle western movies when the two enemies were about to duel. But they weren't enemies. This was Harry, star player of the Grinffindor Quidditch team she had captained. An old time friend.

But yet there they stood.

Angelina's temper, never something she really sought to restrain anyway, blazed out of control.

Look at him. Standing there in overly large clothes, looking just as haggard and aged as Dumbledore had. He looked thinner, rougher, meaner, and Angelina was just a little too tired of all these surprises.

"What the bloody hell's the matter with you!"

She marched right over to him and took her wand back. Hitting him on the head with it she then crossed her arms and looked down into his angry face.

"You sent me the letter then."

"Yeah I sent you the letter," he said with a snarl. He stepped around her and stalked over to the bed. With a flare of his hand he lit all the lamps in the room and his sleeping quarters was revealed at last. Angelina wasn't impressed.

"You got yourself learning wandless magic, too?"

He turned back to sneer at her.

"Why are you here?"

"Oh, no you don't. I'm asking all the questions. Starting with, why you sent me the letter." She went over to stand by his bed. He was laying back on the bed now, eyes closed and seemed to be ignoring her.

Angelina didn't know what his new issue was but she wasn't putting up with it. Using her wand she flipped him off the bed and stepped back, ready to face whatever temper he might have.

He got up slowly and looked at her.

He simply looked at her but she dropped her wand and took another step back. The lamps in the room flickered and gave the impression of lightening being struck. Her heartbeat became the thunder in her ears and the scene was intensified by the storm that raged around them.

"Do you know why I sent you that letter, Angelina Johnson?" His voice sounded hollow, and she wasn't sure, but she thought she could hear the rushing of wind.

He stepped closer and leaned towards her, his green eyes blazing.

"I know," he whispered.

All the lights went out completely and then came back on and remained steady. The rushing of wind stopped and the amplified beating of her heart faded away.

"I know," he said again, angrily. "I've been seeing it all summer. I've seen all of them. I know!" He said at last.

Angelina was still breathing hard from what she had just witnessed and she struggled to keep up. "You see what, Harry?"

"I see the attacks. I see him, Voldemort. And I see…I see Sirius."

He went quiet again.

Angelina thought hard. Sirius as in Sirius Black? The escaped convict? What connection does he have with Harry?

She looked back at the friend who had changed so much. She had been truly afraid of him for the first time in her life a few moments ago. His eyes had glared bright green and his anger had surrounded her—engulfed her. Now she looked back at his sunken shoulders, his hung head, the hair looking even more disheveled than it usually did.

Many have been victim to the harshness of this war and not all have dealt well.

Angelina went to step towards him, but her feet caught her wand. She picked it up and toyed with it for a second, biding her time.

"Who was Sirius?" she asked slowly.

For the first time since she'd entered the room, Harry's green eyes were devoid of anger and bitterness.

"He was my godfather. He died in the attack at the Department of Mysteries. He was innocent and now he's gone."

He said all this and then looked down again. The room was immediately filled with gloom and sorrow. It was as if the walls were magicked to display every emotion Harry was feeling. Angelina felt tears welling up as she thought of her own parents and how close to death they had been. The gloom and despair sat heavily on her heart and she collapsed on the floor as she cried again for everyone that had suffered because of one evil man's wrath.

Before she knew it, arms had wrapped around her and she rested her head on the shoulders of the boy that had aged so fast. The feeling of grief and anguish settled around them like dust.

They were like that for hours, having fallen asleep in each other's comfort. And, after awakening to the approaching dusk, another hour passed as the long, horrid story of Harry's summer came to be told. How he had returned to his relatives, broken and numb from his godfather's death. How he was mistreated as always. How the nightmares and visions had become a frequent disturbance.

He told her of the incident where he had followed a dream right to the edge of the neighborhood just to wake up and realize that they were still at war and his godfather was still dead. He had wanted to get out. He had needed to get away from everything. But in the end he had trekked back to his house with none but the moonlight to see his tears.

He told her of the vision he had about the attack and why he had written her. He couldn't have told Dumbledore. He was still upset with the headmaster who, he had told her, had been keeping him in the dark about things that could've saved his godfather's life.

"I killed him, Angie. I killed Sirius." Harry had said, to her surprise. He had fallen into Voldemort's trap and had taken the only parent figure he had ever known with him.

And ever since that vision there had been scores of other visions. He hadn't told anyone, not even his friends. It was Hermione's owl that he had used to send the anonymous letter. She had written him the night before and he hadn't responded then. He had written Angelina because he knew this attack would be a big one. He needed to warn someone. He was half asleep when he did it, to be honest. He had hoped something would be done.

It was Angelina's turn to feel guilty. She told him her story as well. And he said he didn't blame her for the attack. She couldn't have known how to stop it.

It wasn't their fault; it was the Death Eaters'. It was Voldemort's.

He told her about the order, figuring she had been exposed to it anyway and Dumbledore would probably tell her eventually. When he was done purging his mind, he leaned forward, resting his head against his hands.

She leaned back against the bed. She was acutely aware that her bum was starting to hurt from sitting on the hard floor so long, but she didn't care. There was a lot of information to take in and she sat there for a while pondering it all.

Just when the silence had stretched on, Harry gave a great sigh.

"I'm hungry. Mrs. Weasley might be back already. She said she'd be stopping by today."

He led her downstairs and Angelina took the time to finally check out the surroundings. She concluded that the house, though clean, held a feeling of desolation. She supposed it was the creepy paintings and the dark hallways. It was as if light was forbidden from the house.

They went through the living room and into the kitchen. Here, at last, was a cheery atmosphere. Mrs. Weasley was busy at the counter making something and humming softly to herself. She turned around with a plate full of sandwiches and gasped her surprise to see them.

"Well, hello, Harry, dear. And hello to you too, Angelina. I haven't seen you in so long." She put the plate down on the kitchen table and went to give them both hugs.

"I was just about to come up to see if you two had awoken yet. When I had stopped up earlier, you were both asleep on the floor." She gave a smile here but her eyes remained sharp.

Angelina could feel herself getting warm and Harry cleared his throat and looked away.

"Thank you, very much for the sandwiches, Mrs. Weasley," Angelina said, having nothing else to say.

"Oh you're welcome dear. I knew you'd be over here. Fred and George came back and said you've gone to see Dumbledore. And Oliver Wood's back too. You'll never believe it's him. He looks so different!"

Angelina had turned red again at the sound of Fred's name. How is it she has slept with two boys in two days and was still talking to a third? She surely wished Mrs. Weasley didn't find out.

Harry, though, had let out a yelp of excitement at hearing that Oliver was in town. Mrs. Weasley said she invited them all to spend the night at the Borrow. And though Harry was smiling for the first time since Angelina had discovered him in his room, her heart was slowly sinking to the pit of her stomach. It was going to be, at best, an interesting night.

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A/N: woo! Well there it is. Hope the wait wasn't too long. Ch. 7 is already in progress and will be up soon. 'Cause I know I kinda left off at a weird spot. Also, I did bring you guys back a souvenir. You'll see it in the next chapter. We love Canada. :-)