Awakening

by Stardust3 ANNOYED WAUG.2nd

AU. For seventeen years they've been apart but now she's back and so is Black. When it all comes together it just might prove deadly. And to complicate an already twisted love story, a poem reawakens a murderous spirit. Sequel to The Last Laugh. FINISHED.

11. Only Ten Years Younger

Awakening Chapter Eleven: Only Ten Years Younger By Star*dust

A/N:I want to apologize for any problems that surrounded the update e-mail. I'm still trying to figure out how my mail service works. I think the reason why it sends multiple copies of the e-mail is because usually when I send an e-mail out the whole damn thing stops responding and shuts itself off. However, the e-mail usually goes through anyway. *Rolls eyes* I don't know. Just bear with me on that.

SUMMARY: There was a rousing conversation between Angela and Joshua during which Angie punched Josh and it was later discovered that Angie had a miscarriage and it was most likely the baby conceived on her and Sirius's pseudo-wedding night. Kirsten has an interesting conversation with her "father". Then, there are those unforgettable pair of characters from America. When you look at Kerri and Matt you realize how much you're glad that its Kirsten who made the move and not one of them... Harry gets rather upset when some hurtful comments are directed at Hermione. Hermione has an interesting escapade in a room that seems to have been Rowena Ravenclaw's own. Kirsten and Ron do some investigating of their own trying to understand the mystery surrounding Kirsten's necklace. And, there was New Year's Eve. Angie and Sirius end up stuck together sort of my default. Sierra and Bill are decidedly together on their views of social gatherings and Angie and Sirius make a night of it ringing in the New Year in their own special way. *Coughs expressively* So, that sums of the highlights, now lets see how everything is going to get resolved...

* * *

When Sirius awoke the next morning he had the strongest sense of déjà vu, until he realized he had been in a situation strikingly similar seventeen years earlier. For a moment he could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he somewhat panicked but quickly regained control of himself. Thoughts kept flashing through his head at an alarmingly rapid pace.

Finally, he decided there wasn't anything he could really do at this point except get up. To his surprise Angie was awake and responded when he stirred and attempted to get out of bed.

"Sirius!" She said desperately as she grabbed hold of him. He could think of nothing to say at this point, so he simply fixed her with a steady gaze.

She dropped her head and started to cry. Sirius knew that the situation had gone far enough, way too far, in fact and again, and again, attempted to get up.

"No!" She cried, kissing him with a deep sense of urgency. He responded, but in his heart he knew it could never be. Angie knew it too, and as he stood up she fell into the pillow sobbing. "It's not fair," She kept repeating.

Sirius knew he had to get her out of sight for a moment to gather himself and retreated into the bathroom where he splashed copious amounts of ice cold water on his face. When he came out she was still lying there.

"I'll go make some coffee," he said in a gruff voice and disappeared down the hall.

~*~

Angie delayed as long as she could over her toilette. She kept taking deep breaths trying to calm herself and lower her blood pressure. Everything was wrong. Everything had gone terribly wrong.

Angie entered the kitchen slowly with her eyes down. She poured herself a cup of coffee and took a drink. Sirius had seated himself on the floor and was reclining against the wall. He looked extremely comfortable, his hair was uncombed and his shirt was unbuttoned and open to the waist. He had a piece of parchment in his hand and his coffee mug in the other.

With a sweeping gesture he indicated the wide expanse of the floor. She glanced around and decided she did not want to sit. A smile twitched at the corners of his mouth at her decline. He rose to his feet and Angie regretted she hadn't sat down. He was now towering over her.

"Sirius..." She started in barely more than a whisper.

"You don't have to say anything," He cut in quickly.

"But," Her eyes rose to meet his and then almost immediately lowered again.

"Don't look so forlorn..." He told her. He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, but she recoiled under his touch. She was about to speak but he cut her off, abruptly dropping his hand and walking toward the window. "I know. We can't do this."

"Sirius, none of this should ever have happened. It's not fair. We'll just be torturing each other. An emotional attachment is too much to handle. I mean...you're a fugitive and... don't you understand?" She said desperately. He whirled around an angry flush warmed his cheeks.

"Of course I understand!" He shouted. "Throughout my life I've just been BLESSED with an extraordinary number of unfortunate circumstances and this is just part of that curse. To be so close to what I love...to eternal happiness and yet, I know that it's impossible!" He ran out of breath and stopped momentarily. The color receded from his face before he continued at a more reasonable volume. "Besides, the risk to myself is considerable. And there's the fact that I'd be putting you and Kirsten in danger." He looked down at her face, emotion clearly writ there. "Not to mention all the baggage that comes with being in a relationship with you..."

"What the hell..." She broke off because Sirius had thrown his head back and was...laughing? "Sirius! You did that on purpose!" She shouted, whacking him on the shoulder.

"I couldn't help it," He said with a shrug. "You looked so pathetic...I had to say something."

Angie decided to abandon the subject for the moment. "What's this?" She inquired, gesturing to the parchment. Sirius turned it over for her to see. On the parchment there was a hand drawn black and white picture of a phoenix.

"The Order!" She gasped almost breathlessly. With a start Sirius remembered—a little late—that Angie used to be a member of the Order of the Phoenix and she could probably still read the code. He hastily tucked the parchment away. "What...? I don't understand,"

Sirius wasn't feeling particularly inclined to explain but he realized that there wasn't anything else to do. "You know...business," He said simply.

"But," She objected. "You're a fugitive...I mean...aren't you? Oh good God, don't tell me that's a set-up, that you're a spy or something!"

Sirius grinned and shook his head. "What an imagination..." He remarked. "No, trust me, there are an alarming number of people who would want nothing more than to see me back in Azkaban... kissed by Dementor is more accurate—" Angie gasped and Sirius chuckled. "Don't sound so shocked. Surely you remember the year that I escaped; they sent the cursed things everywhere looking for me.

"I've been mildly associated with the Order these past few years. Of course, they usually try to keep me out of everything. I can't imagine where they got the idea that they might not want it known that I was in any way associated with the group... But that's a group of people that I know won't try and kill me on sight...so that's a plus."

"You're just rambling now. What's in that letter?" Angie pushed.

"They were just filling me in on the current investigations being done at the ministry. The poor devils are still trying to locate me." Angie gave him an appraising look for a few seconds and then turned away, seemingly satisfied.

A rather uncomfortable silence ensued where they both nervously sipped their coffee and attempted to avoid eye contact. Sirius searched around in his brain for the right thing to say. Finally, he decided on a subject that seemed relatively safe.

"Is Kirsten going to come over today?"

"Kirsten?" Angie repeated. "It's possible. She didn't say anything...but this is her house..." Sirius nodded his head and tried to think of another intelligent question to say.

Angie lifted her mug to her lips and Sirius saw the glint of sunlight reflect off the gold band on her thumb. He suddenly became acutely aware of the ring pressing against his chest. Though he didn't look down, the ring seemed to press a heavy weight on his bare skin.

"Angela," He began, unconsciously aware of his use of her full name. Angie was instantly aware of it, and his tone of voice had suddenly deepened and become much more serious. "What happened last night was...well, it happened last night, and there isn't anything we can do about that. But, I think its best if we leave it there and we...don't see each other for a while," He concluded uneasily. Meekly she nodded.

"But, it's ridiculous for you to leave. Where will you go? This is a guaranteed place to stay. This is your house."

"Stop that," Sirius interrupted. "I gave this to you and to Kirsten. And don't worry about me, I'll manage just fine."

"Off to Paris to see Nikki, no doubt," Angie muttered, a touch of resentment in her voice.

"Nikki?" Sirius asked, an eyebrow raised and a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. "I suppose..." Sirius replied slowly watching her reaction. She wasn't looking at him; instead she pensively drank her coffee.

"You're right though. We just wouldn't work as friends," She snapped sarcastically. Sirius rolled his eyes.

"I didn't mean to imply anything of the sort. Angie, we've always been friends... Hell, YOU are the one who said it wasn't fair for us to be in a relationship!"

"It's not!" She argued, her eyes darting to him and then back to the window where she had previously been staring.

"Quite right," He agreed, following her example and looking out the window. But, he couldn't help himself, he was grinning when she next spoke.

"Not a word of this to anyone?"

"I wouldn't dream of it," Sirius replied, seriously this time.

The doorbell rang. Sirius jumped, involuntarily; the customary, momentary, surge of panic crescendo-ed and then subsided. "Who is it?" Angie called, heading for the door.

"It's Sierra, Ang," Sierra called from the other side. Angie unlocked the door and opened it. Involuntarily Angie's eyebrows rose when she beheld her friend's disheveled appearance. Her under eyes were extremely dark and her make-up hadn't been washed off from the night before. She was still wearing her wrinkled dress robes and her hair was slightly frazzled.

"Hey," Sierra said, smiling self-consciously. "Could I come in and freshen up and possibly borrow a change of clothes? I hate to go home and have the entire household whispering about me and I don't dare walk into Hogwarts looking like this..." By this time she had entered the house and they were walking into the kitchen. Sirius was leaning against the wall drinking from his coffee mug.

Both exchanged appraising looks. Sirius noted her appearance and that she had obviously gone somewhere the night before and not gone back home... Sierra noticed Sirius's appearance, particularly the fact that he hadn't bothered to button his shirt.

"Good morning," He said, giving her an exaggerated wave and a huge grin. He saw her eyes dart from Angie, who was trying to look innocent, to him again. "Hold this, will you?" He asked, forcing his mug into Sierra's hands. He started buttoning his shirt and Angie flushed.

Sierra coughed expressively and waited for Sirius to acknowledge her. After finishing the task at hand and taking back his mug of coffee Sierra fixed him with an expectant look. "No," He said, shaking his head, much to Angie's relief. "Not unless you explain yourself as well."

"Fair enough," She agreed readily. "There's nothing to tell."

Sierra led the way into the living room where there was some seating available. The muscles in Angie's face had gone completely rigid. Sirius barely glanced at her as he preceded her into the next room. To her, it seemed as if he was being rather obvious about everything on purpose...right after they agreed to leave it alone.

"You first," Sirius prompted.

"I was at Bill's—"

"Weasley?" Sirius interrupted.

"Don't get so excited. I told you there's nothing to tell. He wanted to talk to me about some...business..." She said, glancing at Angie, who had narrowed her eyes and was fixing Sirius with a glare. He was intently NOT looking at her. "And the party was a drag anyway... We got to drinking and I got spectacularly drunk. I woke up on his couch a few hours ago with a hangover from hell."

"I suppose I'll have to accept that as the truth," Sirius conceded, over- doing the dramatics a little. Sierra rolled her eyes.

"So what's going on here? Has the new year brought back old romances?" She asked unsubtly, her eyes sparkling.

"No," Sirius replied, his tone was rather flat, and Sierra was taken aback by it. He grinned and laughed and "realization" dawned on her.

"You conniving little bastard!" She declared. "There is nothing! You just put on that performance to get information out of me! Well, it's a damn good thing there wasn't much to tell, otherwise I'd really be angry! That was a dirty trick Sirius Black!" Sirius was grinning, Sierra had reached precisely the conclusion he hoped she would. Sirius caught Angie's eye and he winked at her. Angie just shook her head.

"It worked so well though." Sierra threw up her hands in exasperation. "I'll get you some coffee Sierra," He said, rising to his feet.

"Let me go see what I can find you," Angie said, heading up the stairs toward her bedroom. Sirius had stopped in the doorway his eyes following Angie until she was out of sight. He looked at Sierra and tilted his head toward the kitchen.

She followed him into the indicated room with hope renewed. "How much money has Bill been sucking out of you for his venture?" Sirius asked immediately. "My bitch of a relation hasn't questioned you about your frequent spending lately has she?"

Damn him again! Sierra thought, as she had been hoping for some startling revelation about the former lovers.

"Vanessa? No... but that's because I'm not spending Father's money. This is my own separate account. Don't worry about it, Sirius. We're taking care of everything. I thought you wanted to talk about something else," She added, pointedly. Sirius busied himself with the coffee cup.

"No, YOU want to talk about something else..." Sirius corrected.

"Well?" Sierra pressed.

"I'm worried about her Sierra," Sirius admitted, pressing the warm mug into her hand. "It's difficult to tell what she's thinking but...she's really hard on herself. And, all these issues that surround us...I don't know what kind of effect I'm having on her. And she won't accept help from anyone. She's afraid of getting an attachment and it's like she takes it as a personal insult to her pride if someone shows concern for her. Maybe if you talked to her..."

"Of course, I'll do what I can. But...maybe I'm not the right person...?" She said hopefully. Sirius shook his head.

"We agreed to no relationship," He informed her. "And I really think that's the best...for the current situation. I don't want her to constantly worry about me getting caught. And, I sure as hell can't be hung up on her! I'm a fugitive, and I've been spending WAY too much time at the castle these past few months. My primary focus needs to stay on catching Wormtail." Sierra nodded in concession.

"So, how bad is she? You don't think she has depression, do you?"

"Definitely possible. She tried to kill herself twice so...I mean, I don't think she's SUICIDAL, but, I'm just really worried about her."

"Oh God!" Sierra cried in exasperation. "Why don't you just sweep her off her feet and carry her off into the horizon?!" Sirius laughed at the thought.

"I actually suggested that..." He had meant to keep the comment to himself, but somehow it had slipped out.

"You SUGGESTED the two of you...run away? When?"

"Last night... Of course, she said..." He suddenly stopped. He had been about to say that she refused on reasons of logical practicality but all at once he remembered her first word... "She said 'anywhere'," He said in a far off voice.

"What!?" Sierra cried, excitement getting the better of her, she nearly spilled her coffee. Sirius grinned sheepishly realizing he had temporarily gotten lost in his thoughts.

"Yeah...but then, she said she couldn't leave Kirsten, which is a very good reason, and..."

"Sirius..." Sierra interrupted. "Don't you see? She's in love with you, of course she's in love with you, much more than she will admit. But that's the thing. She's afraid. Think about it, Sirius. She's spent half a lifetime trying to recover from losing you. She's afraid to love you because she doesn't want to get hurt! She figures that not admitting it, not allowing it to happen, will make the pain less severe.

"AND, by the way, you're doing the same damn thing! Spending too much time at the castle, indeed! Yeah, that's so dangerous and you're so concerned," She said sarcastically, emphasizing her words with a roll of the eyes.

Sirius laughed again. "I guess there's some truth to that, but..."

"But? What are but-ing about? And I know you're afraid there could be another Josh out there. That's it, isn't it?" Sierra said, warming to her own suggestion rather quickly. "The fact that you're a fugitive compromises your position. You can't always be there for her. What if she decides that's not enough?" Sierra asked. She was taunting him and he knew it.

"Stop it, Sierra," Sirius warned, his voice taking on a slight growl.

"Aha! Of whom are you jealous, Mr. Black?" Sierra's eyes glittered.

"I'm tempted to tell you, but that wouldn't be fair. No, besides, I don't consider him that sort of a threat. But Angie and I are just not a good idea right now."

"You think so?" Sierra challenged, deciding to pursue the object of his jealousy at a later time.

"First of all, I still hold to the fact that I would have to be gone for long periods of time and I don't think it's very healthy to involve Angie in the affairs of a fugitive—"

"Whoa! Before you go on, let me point out that you shamelessly dragged me into your affairs and now have your faithful business associate dragging me all over the world!" Sierra cut in. She really had no cause to complain. She volunteered for the job and Sirius was beginning to think that she rather enjoyed Bill's company.

"That's different, hun," He explained. "I'm not sure if Angie could handle something like that. She doesn't have her unshakable fortitude anymore, Sierra. I know you think I'm just being overprotective, but Angie has serious emotional issues and until I figure out what they all are I'm trying to be careful here. And besides that, she won't let me get close to her, like you said, she's afraid."

"You have the power to persuade. Just up your efforts a little; I'm sure it would take a lot less than you think."

"You're right about that," Sirius agreed, thinking of the previous night. However, that hadn't lasted too long, had it?

"What do mean? Tell me about this discussion of your relationship. DID something happen last night?" Sirius hesitated, not sure how much was really, PROPER, to tell her. At that moment, Angie returned carrying some robes over her arm.

Sirius and Sierra rather conspicuously attempted to be inconspicuous and Angie rather conspicuously pretended not to notice. She had hesitated perceptively, taking a look at their guilty faces before speaking. "Here, I think these should fit you. You can use the bathroom upstairs to freshen up." She said to Sierra.

Sierra downed the rest of her coffee, thanked Angie, and exchanged a meaningful look with Sirius before she made her departure. Angie started to wash the dishes. She clanked and banged around rather more forcefully than was necessary.

Finally, Sirius could no longer endure the angry silence. He went to her and took the glass that she had been scrubbing at with much more gusto than was needed. He gave her a pointed look, rinsed it, and grabbed a towel and started drying. She had been giving him a narrowed-eye look instead of re- starting her chore.

Wordlessly, Sirius took her hand and placed the next dish into it. The warm, soapy water trickled off his hand, and hers, and fell back into the water with a soft drip. Their eyes met. He hadn't noticed before, but they were extremely close, his breath softly stirring her hair, and his hand was still resting on hers.

Sierra, naturally, returned at that moment. Of course, she wasn't attempting to be surreptitious about it, and consequently they heard her coming.

Angie pulled violently away, the glass fell and shattered, ear-splittingly.

* * *

It was early afternoon when Sirius strolled into the little apartment in Paris. He knew Nikki would be sleeping, or rather recovering from whatever had happened the night before but he didn't really care. He made a point of being noisy.

Immediately he got some ink, quill and parchment and wrote out a few hurried letters. The owl gave him a very rude look as he attached the letters (all going to different places) and unceremoniously flung him out the window.

Eventually Nikki stumbled out of her room wrapping a silken garment about her and yawning in an unladylike fashion. She immediately lit a cigarette. "Put the coffee pot on darling, would you? I should have known only you would come round at this hour," She added with a yawn. Sirius glanced at the clock but decided to keep his comment to himself.

"I'll make you some very strong coffee, but you've got to get up. Get dressed and pour some cold water over top your head. I need you coherent here...momentarily!" He added for emphasis.

She gave him a pouty look. "Nicolette, I'm serious. I should have been here days ago! Come on!" She walked back to her room with only a little reluctance. Sirius rolled his eyes exasperatedly fighting off the urge to shake her skinny little body.

He put the coffee pot on not even bothering to measure what he was doing and read over that message from the Order again. It described a series of attacks, only one of which was known to the general public. The problem was they weren't muggle and mud-mudblood killings. They were robberies and each had a definite pattern. A pattern unlike anything on record.

Rather obliging Bill, Fred, and George Weasley appeared in good time in response to Sirius's letter. He really wanted Sierra, Dumbledore, and Remus, and a member of the Magical Law Enforcement division present too but all of those people were impossible to get. One, in fact, would probably have him arrested. The other three were currently unable to get away from the school, which was perfectly understandable.

By the time Bill arrived, Nikki had reappeared looking slightly fresher though with a decidedly sour look on her face. "Well, if it isn't the man in charge. Haven't seen you in a while," One of the twins commented. Nikki opened her mouth, probably to add a statement of agreement but Sirius silenced her with a look.

"OK, somebody tell me the ministry has apprehended someone important," Sirius said.

"They never get the right people," Fred replied.

"Have you seen this?" Sirius asked Nikki, brandishing the notice from the Order under nose. "Transpose it," He ordered, thrusting it into Bill's hands. He did so and handed the message to Nikki.

"Well, what does this have to do with us?" Nikki asked after she had finished reading.

"That's what I'm attempting to find out," Sirius replied. "Have any of you heard what's been going on at the Order meetings? Have you talked to your Father lately?"

The three Weasley boys sort of shrugged. "Strange things have been happening. Of course, the ministry has it all hushed up. They don't want to start any panic or anything," George offered.

"OK, but do they know who is behind this or a motive as to why these things are happening?"

"They haven't a clue. Completely baffled. That's part of the reason they don't want the media to get wind of this stuff," Bill explained. "I've been keeping up a correspondence. My contacts are worried that the next target may be the bank."

"Gringotts?" Fred asked skeptically. "I highly doubt that."

"Well, I've only just talked to Cuthbert Mockridge from the Goblin Liason office and Mockridge said that the bank officials have heard rumors in the underworld. And they aren't talking about Death Eaters," Bill assured the small group.

"No, I think we can all agree this lacks the Dark Lord's style. There's a certain anonymity behind these cases that wouldn't suit that organization," Sirius contributed.

"I agree. And what's more, those at the ministry have reached the same conclusion. All regular and irregular death eater activity has ceased. There has been nothing since December seventeenth. Consequently, December seventeenth was the day that all the lights went off in Hogsmeade, at the ministry in London, and in Diagon alley for exactly three point eight seconds. The ministry cannot find a connection. And as a side note, the next day there was a small, um, well...tsunami." Bill said uncomfortably.

Sirius closed his eyes and shook his head. "That doesn't add up to anything."

"No, it doesn't." Bill agreed. "And let me tell you, the minister's losing hair over this one! Dad says the entire ministry is so stressed out. They are desperately trying to cover up and investigate and nothing is making sense. The IAA has reported a singular lack of main terrorist activity. Aside from these isolated and very professionally accomplished spree of robberies lately. The IAA has had to deal with trivial, everyday, local, common, criminals. And, as customary, they are not supplying any information to the ministry, and of course, the minister refuses to cooperate with IAA officials."

"Have they addressed the possibility that You-Know-Who might not be in power any longer?" George asked.

Sirius frowned at that idea. "I think there would be a lot more people panicking if that were the case. Last time everyone knew by the next day and death eaters were quick to claim they had been under the imperious curse."

"It could have been an isolated attack. An inner-circle rivalry or something," Bill offered. "The theory makes sense. That would explain the lack of organization. However, that means we're just experiencing the calm before the storm. If You-Know-Who is no longer the leader of the criminal world we're about to witness a power-struggle of possibly phenomenal proportions."

"I think Harry would know if the Dark Lord suffered a mortal wound," Sirius argued. "The boy has a certain connection with You-Know-Who. He can feel pain when You-Know-Who suffers it, or when You-Know-Who is in a particular state of agitation or excitement. I know this sounds far-fetched. But Harry has a large part of the Dark Lord's magic because of what happened before..."

They all sort of shrugged. "Well, I don't see any point in this speculation," Nicolette said.

"You're probably right..." Sirius replied.

"In any case, there isn't anything any of us can do," Fred pointed out.

"The key has to be December Seventeenth though...what happened that day?"

* * *

"Hey stranger," Hermione remarked as Ron plopped unceremoniously into a nearby armchair one night.

"Hey yourself," Ron replied.

"Where's your shadow?" Hermione inquired.

"My what...Oh, you mean Kirsten? I think she said something about tutoring some fourth years in the library. Apparently their having trouble with past tense verb forms in Gaelic, or something obscure..."

"So it's just the three of us?" Harry said, suddenly perking up. They all exchanged a conspiratorial look. Hermione threw down her books and rose to her feet.

"Lets go on an excursion," She declared, her eyes sparkling.

"An excursion?" Ron asked skeptically.

"Sure, an adventure. Harry possesses the necessary provisions and we can stop by the kitchens to get some supplies..."

"She's right, you know," Harry said, also rising. "The three of us haven't done something together for a long time."

"What are we going to do? Swap jokes?" Ron asked sarcastically.

"Just shut up and come on!" Hermione said, taking a hold of each of her boys and dragging them toward the door.

~*~

Later that night when Kirsten returned to the common room she was deep in thought. While at the library she had taken a moment to do a little research on Godric Gryffindor. Nothing in her research seemed to help her at all and she couldn't find a record of any such room of Gryffindor's, and yet, she felt as if she knew SOMETHING but couldn't think of WHAT. Something she had overlooked and stored away...

She was going to ask Ron if he wanted to go back to the room that night to do some more snooping but she couldn't find him. She talked to Ginny for a minute and Ginny told her that she'd seen the trio head out of the common room earlier.

Kirsten wasn't discouraged. With a shrug she decided to pursue her ideas on her own. She'd probably be able to think clearer without the distraction of Ron anyway...

She had memorized the way to the mysterious room by now and entered easily. The sight she beheld stopped her dead in her tracks.

It was not the heavily decorated room of Gryffindor... it seemed smaller and cozier. The rich décor had been replaced by more natural colors and simpler ornamentation. The furniture with its ornate carvings was plain and even a bit dusty.

Astonishingly, the surfaces were accented by several green plants all growing haphazardly in all directions. When Kirsten finally inhaled the air was rich and refreshing. Hungrily, she filled her lungs again.

The desks were heaped with parchment and above the fireplace...There was no mistaking that crest. This room had once been Helga Hufflepuff's humble quarters.

* * *

"Well guys, its our seventh year and—knock on wood—we haven't become involved in any strange and mysterious plot yet!" Harry joked to Ron and Hermione. "I might actually make it through one year without going to the hospital wing for a life-threatening reason. Isn't that exciting?" Hermione was laughing heartily but Ron couldn't help but think of Kirsten's necklace.

With a start he realized his own words that he had spoken to Kirsten some time ago. "This is exactly the sort of thing Harry and I overlook. We should go to Dumbledore from the off but somehow we always seem to justify not going. Of course, later, it usually comes back and bites us in the derrieres..."

They had gone to explain the situation to Dumbledore but then...they had been interrupted by a life-shattering crisis...and...yeah...his friends really didn't know the half of it. He glanced at them and offered a nervous laugh.

"I'm so excited! I've already started preparing for the N.E.W.T.s" Hermione babbled. The boys had many years of practice and they took this in stride, not saying anything but managing to surreptitiously exchange a look. "Wow, isn't it crazy to think that next year we'll be going off and starting the rest of our lives?"

Harry shrugged. "I can't wait," He said. "Hogwarts has been the only home I've ever known...really, and I'm ready. Whatever comes, I'm ready," Harry said confidently. Hermione gave him an admiring smile. Ron couldn't help but think it was easy enough for the Boy-Who-Lived to say things like that. He'd have his life handed to him. Any job he wanted. And, if he didn't want, he had plenty of money lying around...

"It's going to be exciting. But I'm still a little concerned. It's hard to know what to expect really," Hermione said.

"Don't worry Hermione. I'm sure you'll end up being a super-genius problem- solver for the ministry or something..." Ron told her. Hermione gave him a grateful look.

"Ron, I think you're going to do big things. Important things. You just seem to have the character," Harry said, giving his friend an appraising look. Ron grinned, not willing to admit how insanely proud and egotistical that praise made him feel.

The three walked along in companionable silence for a while. Harry cast sidelong glances at his friends' carefree countenances and wondered how they did it. Goodness knew Hermione had been dealt a bad hand those past few years with her parents being murdered and yet, her face was completely untroubled. And Ron, the youngest son, who was always comparing himself to his brothers and continually worrying about the world's perception of himself looked nonchalant as ever.

Harry wasn't like that. Inside he was a churning swirl of emotion and stress and worry and confusion. Constantly worrying him was making a mistake. Failing at something. The media had increased its attentions on him this year and he knew that whatever he decided to do after school, he would be closely watched by everyone. But Harry knew he wasn't the great hero everyone thought he was, the hero everyone wanted him to be. Sure, he had his good qualities, but he was just like the next person.

Everyone was sort of expecting him to become an auror like his father had been. It seemed he was already miles ahead in the experience department facing Voldemort several times already. Those had been extraordinary circumstances. That had been luck. If he became an auror he'd start out as a rookie just like everyone else. And just like everyone else, he knew he'd make a mistake. The problem was, the media wouldn't see it as just a mistake.

People wanted him to be a savior. People wanted him to do great things and solve all these problems. But what would happen when he couldn't solve the great mysteries of the world? What would happen when he couldn't save somebody? How would the world react? How would he, Harry, react?

And he also knew that leaving Hogwarts meant living a safe place. Out there was a whole world of danger, and by no fault of his own, Harry had acquired an impressive set of homicidal enemies.

That was a far cry from a comforting thought.

* * *

The mission was currently in its trickiest stage, but Bill was still confident in its success. He dragged Sierra half way around the world, making sure everything was in place. Everything was coming together nicely.

After one particularly tiring outing in Cairo (Bill still had many influential acquaintances in Egypt), he offered to take her out for a drink. They returned to Paris after Sierra expressed her misgivings about Arab cafes. They weren't the safest places for Europeans, Muggle or magical.

They wound up sitting at a small white table under a green and white striped umbrella just outside a small café called Chez Gabrielle. It was one of Bill's favorite joints. He swore up and down they had the best café au lait for three miles. Sierra didn't know if she believed him, but there was really no purpose in arguing.

They were the only customers sitting outside. February in Paris was romantic, but cold. A simple warming spell took care of that little inconvenience, but they still wore their coats for show. Even with the spell, Sierra was grateful for her cappuccino. They both sipped silently for a few moments.

Bill's hair was shorter than it head been for a few years, only reaching to about his shoulder. It was pulled back in his custom ponytail. He had taken out the earring (Ahmed ibn Gizeh, the president of the United Egyptian Magical Bank, did not approve of hooligans, even his old buddy Bill), which in Sierra's opinion only strengthened his youthful good looks. It wasn't that she disapproved, she just found it slightly distracting. He had freckles of course, all the Weasleys did, but they weren't as pronounced as they were on his younger brothers. His bright blue eyes twinkled with a mischievous flame.

Maybe the word flame was misleading. That was his hair, which glinted in the sunlight. The fire red had highlights of gold and bronze. It was the most interesting hair color she had ever encountered. Sometimes she wondered why the hair didn't burn him alive. In her more fanciful moods, she would remind herself that his eyes were the color of clear, cool water...and then she would mentally slap herself.

There was no way to deny that he was good looking. It was also impossible to deny the fact that he was a good ten years younger than she. Not to mention the fact that at the moment she was rather tied to Remus. But just because she knew what she wanted didn't mean she couldn't look at the menu...

"What are you smiling at?" Bill asked, fidgeting under her gaze. She laughed.

"Nothing that concerns you," she lied, flashing him a grin.

"That hit the spot," he said, deciding to ignore her sometimes enigmatic ways and setting down his cup. "Although I could go with something more...intoxicating?"

"You drink to much as it is," she replied teasingly. He grinned.

"Who cares? I'm young and beautiful, I can get away with these things."

"And modest too," she rolled her eyes. "Youth these days! What is the world coming to?"

"I'm not all that younger than you," he replied, and she kept her face impassive. The words were hauntingly similar to her earlier thoughts. "No one would be scandalized if we went out and had a few beers..."

"Except your parents," she reminded him, ignoring the implied suggestion. "And Dumbledore, perhaps,"

"You're right, Dumbledore hates beer," he agreed, his eyes twinkling. "He has a soft spot for champagne, and we're in France anyway."

"Shouldn't we save the champagne for a celebration," she pointed out. "And what do you know about Dumbledore and champagne? When have you ever seen him drink anything more intoxicating than butterbeer?"

"He's just the type, trust me," Bill replied, "You've known him longer than I have. Didn't he ever chug a bottle of vintage champagne?"

"He did pull out a bottle once and have a few glasses," she chuckled, "But that was at Sirius and Angie's wedding—" she caught the look on Bill's face and realized too late that she had let the big secret slip. "Um...I mean..." she stuttered, trying to think of a way to take it back.

"What do you mean, his WEDDING?" Bill asked; his eyes alight with interested curiosity.

"I...it's a secret, Bill, you can't tell anyone," she babbled. She damned her rambling mouth. She was digging the hole deeper and deeper, but she couldn't stop herself from talking.

"A secret, eh?" he continued. "To Angie, did you say?"

"Don't worry about it, you don't even know her," Sierra argued hopelessly.

"Yes, I do," he grinned, "Nikki suggested her from the list. Angela Star, she's teaching up at the school. They made fun of Sirius because they used to be sweethearts. And they're actually married!"

"Yes, but...NO! I mean..."

"Give it up, sweetheart," Bill said, grinning mischievously. "I'm not likely to forget THAT little slip any time soon! And it's a secret...so who all knows? Sirius and this Angie, obviously, and you and Remus—"

"NO!" Sierra cried, so loudly that passerby turned and stared. Her cheeks flushed and she moderated her voice before replying, "No, Remus doesn't know anything about it."

"Oh, doesn't he? Well, this IS a pretty piece of blackmail!" he leaned back, his hands behind his head, his eyes sparkling evilly.

"Bill," she continued, nearly on the verge of begging. "You really can't tell anyone. It's...its more important to him than not telling anyone where he is. You don't understand."

"So this is blackmail on you, Sirius, and Angela Star," he continued, a far away look in his eyes. "Oh the possibilities..." he caught the horrified look on her face and burst into laughter. "Tell you what, Sierra darling, you come back to London with me and have a few beers, and I promise I won't tell a soul." She let out a breath of relief. He stood and they paid for their drinks.

She took his hand as they left. But only because he was the one who knew his way around and she didn't want to get lost.

* * *

"Morning everyone," Angie said pleasantly to her depressingly zombie-like first hour class. A few mumbled replies served as her only greeting. "Well," She said, clasping her hands and looking around expectantly for a moment. "Let me get right to it. I know that you are now entering you final stretch, you're focusing on careers and the rest of your lives in general. Pretty soon you'll be taking you N.E.W.T.'s What I'm trying to tell you is that I'm going to try and NOT pile on the homework—" She could see some people perk up suddenly. "However, a rudimentary knowledge of any language will be extremely helpful whate4ver you do. If anyone was contemplating a job dealing with the Ministry of Magic or any sort of foreign affairs I can help you practice the particular conversation skills you might need.

"And in two months or so we'll stop what we're doing and focus strictly on review work. I'll help you study for your other subjects as well because I know that now you're going to need top grades to do just about anything.

"But, as for today I want you to get in groups and come up with a dialogue in any language you choose. We'll present them at the end of the week." Finished with her announcements Angie took her seat at her desk and started working. After a moment of blank stares the desks started to scrape across the floor and bodies started shifting around.

Hermione, Kirsten, Ron, and Harry unsurprisingly formed a group near the front of the classroom. "I think we should do our dialogue in Chinese," Hermione suggested eagerly. Kirsten laughed and Ron gave her a rather unpleasant look.

"Hermione, we spent one week on Chinese," Harry pointed out. "Definitely not."

"I think we should do our dialogue in English since she said 'any language'," Kirsten said, with a smirk.

Without pausing her quill or looking up Angie replied. "Kirsten, don't be a smart-ass."

"Well, really," Kirsten said indignantly.

"OK. No English," Ron said decisively, his eyebrows raised to an impossible angle.

"What should be the topic of our dialogue?" Hermione asked. Harry and Ron's eyes met and a fatalistic smiled appeared on each face.

"Don't say it!" Hermione begged. She was just putting her hands over her ear when they said in perfect unison, "Quidditch!"

"No!" Hermione whined while Kirsten laughed.

"We could do a Cannons/ Arrows game," Ron said enthusiastically.

"Yeah!" Harry agreed. "With the Cannons pulverizing the Arrows!" Before either of them could continue or Hermione could protest Angie interrupted.

"You're a Chudley Cannons fan, Harry?" This time Angie had set her quill on the desk and she was looking right at him. Harry glanced nervously at Kirsten hoping she would give him some sign as to what the right answer would be. Kirsten's face was blank.

"Uh...yeah," Harry replied with a shrug. "My favorite team," He added.

Angie's face broke into a wide grin and the next moment she was seized with a spontaneous laughter. Harry raised his eyebrows and the four friends exchanged various looks of confusion. Angie now had her head on her arms she was laughing so hard.

It took quite some time for Angie to compose herself and by that time the class had stopped what it was doing and was staring at her. "Your father," She began but broke off and started to laugh again. She inhaled deeply and once again focused on Harry. "Your father is probably turning over in his grave!" At this she dissolved into helpless laughter once more.

Not only was a Potter NOT an arrows fan, he was actually a CANNONS fan. It was too much.

"OK. No. quidditch." Ron said decisively, his eyebrows raised to an impossible angle.

* * *

"I rather hope we're doing this correctly," Bill remarked to Sierra, leaning over a bubbling cauldron.

"I suppose we won't know until it's over," Sierra said, giving the cauldron a look of distaste. "We should ask my daughter, Hermione. The girl is brilliant."

"That's what Ron says," Bill agreed. Bill turned an amused eye to Sierra. "I wonder what Hermione would say if she knew you were involved in an affair such as this."

"She'd be utterly appalled. As a matter of fact, I'm quite surprised at myself. My career is over if any of this gets out."

"A lot more than your career will be over if this gets out," Bill reminded her. "Life in Azkaban would be a lucky sentence."

"What a pleasant thought," Sierra said sarcastically.

"Cheer up darling. If this gets out we'll both be in prison together!" Bill displayed a mouthful of teeth and Sierra rolled her eyes.

"Well, I this is one thing that I don't think will get out," Sierra informed him.

"As long as you don't slip and tell anyone about it," Bill teased, his eyes sparkling with amusement. Sierra gave him a murderous look. "I've been meaning to discuss that with Sirius."

"What? NO!" Sierra cried and Bill chuckled. "You promised you wouldn't tell a soul!"

"I never said I wouldn't talk to Sirius about it," Bill pointed out.

"Sirius will never speak to me again if he finds out I told you he was married!"

"What's the big deal? You know, that explains why he never made a move towards Nikki..." Bill said thoughtfully.

"Nikki!?" Sierra questioned sharply and Bill's face broke into an amused smile again.

"Yes, she's a very desirable little thing." Sierra rolled her eyes.

"Sirius has more sense than that. I don't think you even understand the situation."

"Precisely why I mean to talk to Sirius. He's been holding out on me and he has something I want." Bill turned his back as if making to leave. Sierra spun him around again.

"What could he possibly have?" She demanded. Bill's grin got even wider, he hesitated for a moment and then turned again.

"I need him to OK something, is all," He said quietly.

"What—" She broke off because Bill had made a sudden break for the door. With a curse she started after him.

~*~

Breathing heavily Sierra burst into Nikki's nightclub. It was early afternoon and someone was busy sweeping the floor. "Est-Nicolette ici?" Sierra asked of the man. He shook his head and Sierra rushed up the stairs and burst into the apartment.

"SIRIUS!" She shouted and he immediately appeared. "I wanted—to warn—to warn you... Bill—he's coming. I—"

"Catch your breath, he's beaten you here," Sirius said and seated casually at the table was Bill. He was looking at her in a particularly smug way.

"YOU!!" She shouted, in quite a large use of breath. "Damn you, Weasley!" She yelled advancing on him. "Have you..." She had to stop because she'd run out of breath.

"I've only just arrived," Bill informed her. She continued to advance.

"Well, you won't say a thing," Sierra warned.

"Sirius," Bill started. "Sierra told me—"

"NO!" Sierra shouted, lunging at him. A confused scramble occurred, hands and cloaks got all twisted and a lot of unintelligible shouting ensued. Bill seemed to have Sierra's hands in check for the moment.

"So, I hear—"

"WILLIAM WEASLEY!" Sierra roared drowning him out. She renewed her struggles and slammed her heel onto his boot. Naturally, that had no effect and Bill managed to draw a breath.

"Angie's your wife?" He blurted before the chair and the two of them toppled to the ground.

"You're a real bastard, you know that Bill," Sierra remarked, lying flat on her back on the floor.

"You're the one who broke Nikki's chair," Bill pointed out, as he rolled off the broken piece of furniture. He stuck his hand into the air and Sirius grasped it and helped him to his feet. Bill had a sickeningly smug look on his face.

"Help me up," Sierra said, holding out her hand for assistance. Sirius stood towering over her.

"Sixteen years without a word to anyone and now Bill Weasley knows?" Sirius asked, in a would-be mild voice. Sierra grimaced. "Lucky you didn't tell anyone who would hold that bit of information over my head," He continued sarcastically. Sierra dropped her arm and it landed on the floor with a thud.

"It was a complete accident," She said timidly.

"Don't blame her," Bill said, holding out his hand to her. She glared at him callously and got up on her own. "It really wasn't her fault."

The three of them stood in a little circle contemplating one another in silence for a while. "So, the secret's out, eh?" Sirius asked, absentmindedly tugging at the chain around his neck. Sierra nodded guiltily.

"So what's the story Sirius?" Bill burst out. "Why won't you go see your wife? Does she even know you're innocent?"

"Skip the story, she doesn't want to see me, and yes," Sirius said all very quickly.

"Oh, well..." Bill said nervously.

"What is it that you want?" Sirius prompted. "Really, you could have asked without attempting to blackmail me!"

"Probably," Bill said with a shrug. "But I bet I'm correct when I say you wouldn't want that bit of information to get around."

"Yes well, it's more of a question of her reputation. Her ex-husband might be seriously offended if he knew he married a woman who was already tied down," Sirius explained with a dismissive wave of his hand. Bill let out a low whistle.

"Well, this is a regular old soap opera. That means you were married before you went to jail? How is it that no one knows?"

"I said skip the story. Memory lane is out of order."

"Apologies," Bill said quickly. He started to speak, glanced at Sierra and hesitated. Which, for Bill Weasley, was a big deal. "Look, Sirius. I've been meaning to ask your approval for something because I wouldn't want to go ahead without it. I feel a moral obligation to have your blessing..." Words seemed to fail him for a moment.

Sirius had spiraled into the caverns of his own imagination. All of the sudden he was hearing this speech given by a younger red-haired Weasley. He had a sudden image of his daughter and he nearly swore aloud.

"Are you proposing or something, get on with it!" Sirius said irritably.

"You see, there's this friend of yours that I've been meaning to ask on a date but I thought I should get the OK from you first. I mean, it's because of you I that I met her and if you are scandalized by the proposition I wouldn't dream of going forth—"

"BILL WEASLEY!" Sierra shouted, interrupting him. He turned to her with a cocky grin. Most people would have flushed crimson, but not Bill. He was looking particularly pleased with himself.

Sirius rolled his eyes so dramatically it should have been audible! He couldn't believe he was actually hearing this.

"If you want to take Sierra on a date, be my guest, but good luck, she's a psychiatrist you know, she'll read your mind," Sirius warned, in mock serious tones. Sierra stopped channeling anger at Bill and turned on Sirius. She whacked him on the shoulder and then turned back to Bill.

"So how 'bout it, Sierra? We'll go out, have a spectacular time and then I'll bring you home and meet the parents. Who knows, maybe we'll actually render my mother speechless."

"Well!" Sierra began indignantly. "Of all the—" Bill decided he didn't want to hear the end of that sentence and swept her into an...interesting... embrace.

Despite the fact that moments earlier Sirius had been steaming about Angie he suddenly found the situation extremely amusing. He felt like he was young again, and back in Hogwarts. The whole situation was reminiscent of their teenage years. He was seized by laughter.

And, to the surprise of everyone. Sierra yielded and even refrained from giving Bill a good slap.

"I don't suppose you closed the door when you left?" Bill asked suddenly.

"Um..." Sierra said nervously. "I don't remember...." Bill rolled his eyes.

"If our potion is destroyed I blame the entire affair on you!" He declared heading for the door.

"I'll be there in a minute," Sierra called after him. Sirius turned toward her, complacently folded his hands, lifted his chin to an arrogant angle and lifted an eyebrow. Sierra countered with a fair imitation of this look but she wasn't in the mood for a staring contest.

"Oh really! He's only...nine...or...ten...years younger than I am!" She said an almost indignant edge to her voice. The eyebrows rose higher and the chin was reaching an alarming angle. "You are approximately ten seconds away from a good slap, now stop!" Sierra ordered. Sirius laughed and shook his head.

Sierra sighed heavily. "Just say it. Whatever you have to say, just say it now."

"Why do you assume I have something to say? You're the one who brought up the age difference and he's the one who pointed out some people may be scandalized by the affair. I think the both of you are being rather ridiculous, as a matter of fact. Stop worrying about it and go with it," Sirius explained. Sierra frowned, started to speak, and then stopped herself all very rapidly.

"Well...that's not what I was expecting. That makes me feel a little better...actually," She said, turning a warm smile on Sirius. "I'm so sorry I accidentally told Bill about you and Angie. It was a complete accident, I promise."

"No need to apologize. It's over and done with now...I mean, it's not like I was accusing you of purposely telling him. Just try to use a little more awareness, it wouldn't do at all to let that slip to most people."

"I know Sirius, I'm really am sorry. So...how are you doing? Have you seen Angie lately. Did you talk to her? I tried, but I hit a brick wall. I don't know what's going on with her..." She asked anxiously. She reached out a comforting hand but Sirius reacted quite suddenly.

"Damn it Sierra!" Sirius shouted, frustration in his voice. "She avoids me at all costs. She says as little as possible to me. If I'm at the house, she makes up an excuse to leave. The situation has worsened since New Year's. And I think my presence will only drive her back to alcohol and eventually that will take her back to her suicidal tendencies. She's not the same person I married I don't even know her!"

"My God," Sierra whispered. "I didn't really think it was that bad..."

"Well it is. And I'm not her only problem."

"What do you mean?"

"I honestly can't tell you about it because it's really none of my business. But, she's completely broke," Sirius explained his voice calm again.

"But...she gets paid for teaching..."

"Yeah, but...Never mind, ask her about it." The room fell into utter silence. Sirius stared unseeingly straight ahead.

"The house though...she just moved..."

"I bought the house," Sirius said shortly. "And the infuriating woman had the audacity to refuse it."

"Slow down. You purchased and gave to Angie that house?"

"Didn't I just say that?" Sirius snapped. Sierra opened her mouth and then closed it again.

"DID something happen on New Year's Eve? You said the situation had worsened since then..."

"Something happened that shouldn't have," Sirius replied.

"I knew it!" Sierra cried, a slight note of triumph in her voice. "Something more than an argument."

"No, we didn't argue," Sirius agreed, a bite to his voice.

* * *

It was at Professor McGonagall's insistence that Hermione sat down and carefully explained Animate Transfiguration to Dennis Creevey. The boy wasn't stupid, really, just inattentive. Still, fourteen-year-old boys with something bordering on ADHD were tiring on anyone's nerves, and Hermione hadn't been known for her patience as of late.

It wasn't her fault, really. She was stressed about NEWTS...and who could blame her. She felt an intense need to blow previous high scores out of the water to prove once and for all that she was intelligent. It wasn't a desire to convince the rest of the school, her professors, or even her future employers. Hermione strived day and night to try and meet her own impossible standards. Ambition could be trying on the nerves.

Her "friends" weren't helping much. Kirsten was, of course, much more bearable now than she had been in September, but she took up entirely too much of Ron's time. Ginny, of course, was causing her share of trouble with Malfoy, and Harry...She tried not to think about Harry too much. Grades she could conquer. Hot guys every girl in the school would kill to date she could not.

She was the last one to retire to her dorm. She had meant to go to bed early—her late nights were taking a toll and she was finding it hard to pay attention to Professor Star first thing in the morning, but she had totally immersed herself in an Arithmancy research term paper due in May.

Her eyes flickered to the clock. It was nearly midnight. She wasn't ready to go to bed, she was in the middle of a thought. However, maybe if she just put her head down for a moment and let her eyes rest, her mind would produce something brilliant. Something had been nagging at the back of her mind just on the brink of consciousness all day....

She was surrounded by people. It was sunny and warm. Everyone was smiling. Her parents walked with her, her mother to her left and her father to her right. Then everything was burning, and the smiles turned to screams. Hermione whirled around, desperately. Her parents...they had suddenly disappeared.

She ran desperately through the smoke against a throng of people, her eyes tearing through the crowd. The Dark Mark soared above Diagon Alley, but she didn't notice. She was intent on the chase. She was running, but she wasn't moving. She was screaming, but no one could hear her.

All at once, the people around her vanished. The fire raged, but everything had gone silent. Her parents were lying on the ground, their hands intertwined, their eyes looking straight up with the unseeing stare of the dead. Hermione stared, her heart racing, her mind not accepting what she was seeing. Then, suddenly, she let out an animalistic scream of grief...

"HERMIONE!" A loud, worried voice was shouting, shaking her back into waking life. Hermione's eyes opened suddenly, and searched the room desperately. There was a young man grasping her shoulders, but she hadn't acknowledged his presence. She was still searching for her parents...her dead parents.

Dead, she reminded herself, comprehending it was Harry who had awakened her just in time to slump against him, her eyes screwed shut in an attempt to stop the tears. Dead, dead, dead. She would never see them again.

"Hermione?" Harry's voice repeated, with a soft gentleness she hadn't seen from him in years. She looked up, realizing too late that the tears were already slowly falling down her face, her throat dry from repressed sobs and her eyes scratchy.

"I had a dream, I..." she tried to pull herself together. "I...It's February eleventh, isn't it?"

"Yes," he replied, without any hint of curiosity.

"It's...oh God, Harry, it's my mum's birthday...my real mum, I mean," she tried to explain, feeling the tears begin again. He stopped her talking by pulling her into another embrace, softly stroking her hair as she sobbed on his shoulder.

"It's okay," he said, his voice hardly above a whisper and full of understanding, "It's alright, Hermione. It's alright to cry for your parents. I understand."

His gentle words broke all her barriers, and she cried until she could cry no more. He simply held her, a silent pillar of strength. He said nothing because words were unnecessary. He was, she suddenly realized, also an orphan. She wondered why the thought hadn't occurred to her before.

"Thanks," she sniffed, finally pulling away and avoiding his gaze. She let out a breathy giggle, "I must look like a mess."

"Don't be silly, 'Mione," he replied, "You're always beautiful."

"I'm not beautiful," she replied, flushing under his praise, "Not like Kirsten."

"No," he agreed, "Not like Kirsten. You're a different kind of beautiful. You have real beauty." She flushed even darker, her eyes fixed on the hands clasped in her lap.

"Thank you," she whispered, unsure of how to reply. There was a moment of silence.

"'Mione," he said again. She looked up, meeting his eyes. They were a deeper shade of emerald in the dying firelight, almost a forest green.

"Yes, Harry?" she whispered, wanting to look away but finding she could not.

"I..." Harry's soft words trailed off as his eyes bored into hers. She felt his hand come up and rest on her cheek. She closed her eyes, and for a moment she was absolutely sure he would kiss her.

She panicked. He was being the comforting friend, she reminded herself, nothing more. The thought made her heart plummet, but she refused to let her hopes rise again. Her emotions were plenty entangled without a pity kiss from the boy she had loved for the last several years.

"I should go to bed," she said suddenly, breaking their gaze and gathering her textbooks with shaking hands. She knocked a textbook to the floor and picked it up with a muffled expletive. Smooth, Hermione, so very graceful.

"Hermione," Harry started, but she cut him off.

"Really, Harry, it was just a nightmare, I'll be fine," she said in her familiar, businesslike and bossy tones. That was the ticket, push them back into familiar territory. It was considerably less dangerous. "You should go to bed too, if you want to get up early enough to finish Snape's essay, which I know you didn't."

"Yeah, you're right," he replied, his gaze falling to the floor. For a moment she swore his cheeks reddened, but she knew it must have been the deceptive firelight. "Goodnight, 'Mione,"

"Sweet dreams, Harry," she replied softly before running to her dorm. She collapsed onto her bed fully dressed, staring at the hangings above.

What in Merlin's great name had just happened?

* * *

Hermione had been bothered all night by that brief and odd encounter. The next morning when she appeared for breakfast she was exceedingly self conscious and spent most of her energy avoiding Harry.

Harry seemed not to notice and continued in his normal habit, seemingly unaware that Hermione would blush if she looked at him. Maybe she had overreacted?

Upon returning to the common room that night, Harry called to her and gave her a heart-stopping smile. "Hey, how are you?" He asked her.

"Oh, I'm perfect," Hermione replied, trying to emulate his coolness.

"I just wanted to make sure because—" Whatever he was about to say was lost as a member of his giggling fan club—as Hermione termed them—interrupted.

"Oh Harry! You promised to tell us about your dementor encounters tonight!" *Was it just Hermione or did every sentence these girls spoke end with an exclamation mark?* Grinning sheepishly, he allowed himself to be swept away leaving Hermione to roll her eyes.

Hermione joined Kirsten and Ron who were arguing spectacularly about a History of Magic essay. Hermione flatly refused to be dragged into the middle but watched them amusedly for a time. Finally, Ron threw down his quill and rose. "I'm going to run to the library. Be back in a couple of minutes."

Hermione watched as Kirsten took Ron's parchment and started making wild sweeping marks and furious scribbles. Kirsten looked up, caught Hermione's eye, and grinned. "He's wrong, you know," She said mildly.

Hermione was now watching Harry being melodramatic...or perhaps just dramatic. At any rate, she was giving him a critical look. Kirsten noticed too, and stopped what she was doing to watch for a minute. Then, glancing at Hermione she went back to her "editing".

A short time later Kirsten spoke. She usually didn't miss much. "What's up Hermione? You've been watching him all night."

Mentally damning herself, Hermione forced herself to make eye contact. Apparently her face could be read like a book. Either that or Kirsten had been studying a little harder than she let on in Divination. "Oh my God, did something happen!?" She exclaimed.

"I think something would have had I not panicked," Hermione admitted. That statement had a devastating effect on Kirsten's homework as parchment, quills, and books scattered haphazardly. Kirsten had been rather dramatic about getting to the absolute edge of her seat. She gave the various inanimate objects a critical look before crying out, "What—no, when? Just tell me what happened!"

Hermione explained the brief episode from the night before with an air of self-consciousness. "Oh no," Kristen remarked when she had finished. "Harry is rarely emboldened to make the first move and you shot him down. He might never recover his nerve now," She said, a look of extreme anxiety on her face.

"So, you think he really was about to kiss me?" Hermione pressed.

"Oh, no doubt," Kirsten replied. "And you panicked! HERMIONE!" Kirsten said, her tones critical. "That was your opportune moment."

"I realize, damn it!"

"Well, no matter. That was your cue," Kirsten explained. "Now you know for sure that he's interested. You'll just have to go for it."

"What!? NO!"

"Hermione!" Kirsten said, rolling her eyes. "What else are you going to do? If I know Harry...which I think I do...he's going to be a little awkward around you for a while now. It's just going to be tortuous tension. You have to prevent that because he won't. He's not experienced in matters of love, trust me."

"And you think I am?" Hermione countered.

"I never said that," Kirsten admitted jokingly. "No listen, Hermione. I'll tell you what to do. You have to come across like you're interested but don't be too bold, he'll be scared off by that... This is going to require careful planning..." She seemed to drift off into her own thoughts for a time. "Sometimes I just don't understand that boy. Why he hasn't attempted to passionately kiss you for the past seven years is beyond me. He's very strange like that, you know, he was always a little unsure of himself around me. Hmm..." She remarked like a new thought had struck her and she was thinking it over. "Has he ever been in a serious relationship before?"

"You're asking me?" Hermione asked.

"Don't pretend like you don't know, Hermione. If you like him as much as I think you do you know the answer to this question."

"No, not really," Hermione replied.

"And I bet it's almost always the girls who end it. Am I right?"

"Yeah..." Hermione said, thinking about it for the first time. "That's kind of strange, isn't it?"

"Yes..." Kirsten agreed. Both girls slipped into unseeing stares as they contemplated this new information.

When Ron returned he found both Kirsten and Hermione staring off into space and forgotten homework randomly lying around. "You guys look stoned," He remarked. Both snapped out of their trances and fixed him with a frown.

"Where's my essay?" Ron asked, sifting through parchment. "Ah here...what the hell...?"

"I was right wasn't I?" Kirsten asked, a cocky smirk on her face. Ron mumbled something inaudibly. "What was that?"

"Good God!" Ron exclaimed. "Kirsten, just when was the last time you heard me use the word 'philippic'?" Kirsten shrugged. "What happened here anyway? It looks like a herd of giraffe's went past on broomsticks or something..."

"Or something," Hermione agreed.

"Hey Ron," Kirsten said in a tone that precedes a question. "Do you suppose Harry has ever had 'the talk'?"

"The what?" Ron asked, turning sharply. "What the hell were you two talking about?" He demanded.

"Has Harry ever had the 'the talk'?" Kirsten repeated.

" 'The talk'? What are you talking about? That talk? THAT talk?" Ron was looking at them wild-eyed.

"Think about it, will you?" Kirsten insisted. " 'That talk' is delivered usually by a boy's father, well, Harry doesn't have a father. And if you think about the house he grew up in...?"

"For Pete's sake!" Ron cried. "He's nearly eighteen, you realize. I'm sure that Harry has...for Pete's sake, why are we even talking about this!?" Ron was getting rather red in the face.

"No need to get so worked up," Kirsten told him. "Are you sure? I mean, how would he ever have been exposed—"

"Oh really Kirsten!" Ron interrupted loudly.

"She does have a point Ron," Hermione said. Ron started breathing very rapidly looking from both Kirsten to Hermione.

"Harry lived with his Uncle..." He pointed out. Hermione and Kirsten fixed Ron with a very critical stare.

"That would really explain a lot of things," Hermione admitting, quickly warming to this new theory. "Ron, if you think about it, you really do have to wonder."

"It's not like I ever thought about it before. But you know, he was kept locked in his room for the first eleven years of his life; he hardly ever got out. And, I mean, that's not a subject that the two of us are in the habit of discussing. For crying out loud! What am I saying!?"

"Ron," Kirsten said seriously. "We have to find out if Harry has had 'the talk' or not. Because if he hasn't..."

"Oh no!" Ron cried. "Both of you, stop that! Don't you bloody dare look at ME like that!" Ron cried throwing up his hands and backing away.

"We have to find out nonetheless," Hermione insisted.

As one, the three of them turned to look at Harry Potter. He was suddenly underneath a totally different colored spotlight.

* * *

Ginny struggled in vain to pay attention to Professor Binns drone but it was truly a lost cause. His monotone descriptions of the Mermen's Four Year War wouldn't intrigue a caterpillar, much less a crowd of sixteen-year- olds. It was a shame, really, because the war was full of blood, lust, and betrayal—all the makings of a trashy romance novel. Only Binns could bring it down to the interest level of a spoon.

She found herself doodling, which was not unusual. She drew people, usually. She was not so silly as to draw "Ginny Malfoy" over and over, tempting though it was...

Tempting?! Ginny's eyes widened as she realized her near unconscious mind was suggesting marriage to Draco. She shook her head, as if she were trying to shake the idea right out of her head. Draco was great, to be sure, but he was just her boyfriend. He wasn't any different from any of her previous boyfriends...except...

Except that she loved him. She didn't know why she was still afraid of the idea, seeing as she had already screamed it out loud several months ago to Harry Potter of all people. He hadn't told Ron of that outburst though, thank Merlin. Ron was upset enough with Draco as her boyfriend. He was sure to have an ulcer if she ever mentioned love or ANY form of long-term commitment.

She shoved the thought from her mind. She was only sixteen, after all, far too young to be considering anything as serious as marriage. Thankfully for her poor, overworked mind the bell finally rang, but not before Binns assigned a three foot essay on the causes of the war. Ginny wasn't worried, she could always ask Hermione for help.

She met Draco in the corridor on her way down to the Great Hall for lunch. He stopped only long enough for a peck on the cheek and a quick explanation. He wasn't going to lunch. His term paper for Snape was turning out to be more difficult than he expected, and he was heading over to the greenhouses to ask Sprout about some of the herbs and other herbology related ingredients in a complicated potion Ginny didn't recognize. She nodded vaguely, and waved as he left, whistling under his breath. She smiled fondly after him. Ginny Malfoy...maybe it wasn't all THAT ridiculous...

She shoved the thought from her mind again. Sixteen, she kept repeating under her breath, only sixteen.

Lunch had been served by the time she arrived. Hermione was saving her a seat with the feeble hope she wouldn't sit at the Slytherin table again. Ginny was relieved to be back at the Gryffindor table...she didn't particularly mind the Slytherins, but it just wasn't the same.

"Gin!" Hermione cried, brightening when she saw the younger red head.

"Hey guys," Ginny replied. Harry grinned and waved. Ron and Kirsten muttered a greeting, then went back to a whispered conversation punctuated with giggles. Ginny couldn't hear what they were talking about, but she was sure her mother would disapprove.

She asked Hermione about the war. Her friend replied with a myriad of random facts, which Ginny listened intently. It was much more interesting in Hermione's version. She was about half way through her shepherd's pie when Harry interrupted Hermione's monologue.

"Heads up, guys, there's a fashionably late owl heading this way."

"Look, roses!" Hermione exclaimed with a sigh. "Someone's getting an early Valentine's gift!"

"Probably one of the bombshell Patils," Ginny muttered darkly. Imagine her surprise when eleven blood red roses and one rose of pure white landed gently in her lap. She gasped softly.

"Wow, Gin," Hermione muttered, her eyes wide. "Who's it from?"

"Malfoy, of course," Ron replied darkly. Ginny ignored him, picking up the small white square card that accompanied the roses. It read, in familiar sloping script, "love from your Draco".

Ginny smiled to herself, slipping the note into her bag. Her Draco...she like the sound of that.

* * *

"Remus, you shouldn't have," Angie repeated for probably the twelfth time.

"Will you stop saying that?" Remus said, putting his arm around Angie and giving her a squeeze. He leaned close to her and whispered into her ear. "Happy Valentine's Day." He gave her a little kiss and they continued their evening stroll.

"I'm so glad you didn't get me any candy," Angie remarked. "Even the thought of food right now makes my stomach do flips..."

"Aren't you feeling any better yet?" Remus asked giving her a concerned look. "Hasn't this been going on for a week now?" Angie tried to shrug and look unperturbed.

"I'll be OK. It's just some virus,"

"Have you been getting enough fluids?" Remus continued in that concerned tone. Angie grinned and laughed.

"Yes, I'm fully hydrated. Mostly I've been feeling nauseous in the morning. I get about one good meal a day... at least..."

"Have you seen Madame Pomfrey?"

"Will you stop?" Angie said still grinning.

"I don't know what's so amusing. It sounds like you're awfully sick."

"You better take a step back then. You wouldn't want to catch anything," Angie warned, trying to mimic his serious look.

"No...it's too late for that," Remus said quickly. His face transformed into a warm smile and he leaned over to kiss her again.

"Well, isn't this cozy?" A rather sardonic voice asked. Angie and Remus broke off with a muttered expletive. Sirius raised an eyebrow and he and Angie exchanged an interesting look.

Remus cleared his throat. "Good evening Sirius. Haven't seen you for a while," His voice was light and cordial but there was a palpable tension in the air. Angie set Sirius with a glare that seemed to say "Yes, now where have you been?"

Sirius simply shrugged and the three started walking. Sirius feel into step next to Angie, but kept a respectful distance, never even glancing down at her. "Sirius, have you heard there were scouts at the Slytherin/ Gryffindor quidditch game last fall? Don't tell Harry but they were extremely impressed."

Sirius stopped walking and turned to stare at Remus who was grinning from ear to ear. "No one is supposed to know yet...but I heard it through the grape vine. Harry's going to be offered a contract at the end of the year. They want him to play for England."

Sirius whispered an oath as he stared at Remus in disbelief. "God, James would be so proud." Remus and Angie seemed to both sigh in nostalgic agreement.

"I can't believe it," Sirius kept repeating as they continued their walk. "That's incredible."

"I talked to Kirsten. She's going to apply to go into auror training. Probably something dealing with international affairs considering her background in foreign language," Angie changed subjects...sort of... once the shock had worn off. Sirius and Angie exchanged another look. Angie seemed to be asking him how he felt about it.

That was certainly an interesting development. It would be almost ironic if his daughter became an auror. "That's good. She's a bright child, I'm sure she'll excel at it," Sirius managed to say.

Angie stumbled a bit and instinctively two pairs of hands reached to steady her. She pushed them both away and brushed the hair away from her face. For some reason she had broken out in a sweat. "Angela, are you all right?" Sirius asked, his tone quite different.

"Yeah...I'm fine," She answered hastily. She began to walk again and the men had no choice but to follow.

"Say, you two," Sirius said, a thought striking him. "Does December Seventeenth stick out in your minds for any reason?"

Remus frowned. "Yeah...wasn't that the day the lights went out in Diagon Alley?"

"Yes it was," Sirius said. "Very good memory, Remus. Any other reason?" Sirius turned his eyes toward Angie.

"That was the night I told you to get out," She whispered. She was whispering more because she was out of breath rather than any other reason. Sirius frowned for a moment and then shrugged.

"I guess you're right...Angie?" Quite suddenly her eyes rolled back in her head and she fell limply into his arms. She was deathly pale.

Sirius was too weak for words. "Jesus Christ," Remus croaked with feeling. "We've got to get Angie to the hospital wing..." He glanced to Sirius and realized his pronoun was a little out of order. He pulled out his wand and conjured a stretcher. "It's OK, go back to the house and I'll—"

"Are you out of your mind?" Sirius shouted, carefully placing Angie on the stretcher, she was starting to come around again. "I'm coming with you." And he promptly transformed into a dog.

"Sirius, I don't like this..." Remus began but Angie was sitting up now, her hand on her head. "Angie!" Remus shrieked. Sirius was suddenly human again.

"Lay down!" Sirius ordered.

"You're in no condition to walk. I'm taking you to the hospital. I told you this was serious," Remus said.

"You two shut up," Angie snapped, but she had laid down. "I'm fine. Just feeling a bit faint is all. Sirius, don't do anything stupid. I'm sure it's nothing. Please, go back to the house."

"I'm not leaving you," He said, his jaw set. He took her pale hand in his.

"Quit being melodramatic. I will see you a little later. I promise," She gave him a weak smile. Sirius took Remus aside.

"Don't let her leave the hospital wing. As soon as she's in Madame Pomfrey's care, come back and tell me what happened."

"I will Sirius, I will," Remus assured him. "You just say concealed."

Sirius watched with an utterly sinking feeling of helplessness as Remus set off, the stretcher floating in front of him. When they were out of sight he disapparated back to the house to pace and wait.

~*~

The hospital wing was thankfully devoid of patients when they arrived. Madame Pomfrey came hastily out of her office when she saw them. "All right, what happened?" She demanded, taking Angie's wrist and checking her pulse.

"I've just been feeling faint," Angie started to explain.

"She passed out! And she's been throwing up for over a week now," Remus said, cutting in. Angie gave him a sharp look.

"That will do, Professor," Madame Pomfrey said shortly. "Leave us, please."

"But—"

"THAT WILL DO," She repeated in a raised voice. With a pleading look at Angie Remus retreated to the corridor. It was amazing the way the woman could control Remus even after now in his late adult years. Madame Pomfrey turned a stern look to Angie.

"The potion I gave you didn't help?" She inquired. Angie shook her head meekly.

"You should have come to me immediately. Can you get onto this bed?"

"Of course, I feel much better now, really," Angie told her despite Madame Pomfrey's skeptical look.

"That's a girl," Madame Pomfrey said, helping her onto the bed. She then turned and waved away the stretcher. "Just a moment..." She said, walking briskly away. She returned almost instantly carrying a small vial and a glass of clear water.

"Take this, and here's some water to wash it down," She instructed.

"What is it?" Angie asked, eyeing the vial suspiciously. Angie suddenly felt like she was a young girl. A nervous first year and Madame Pomfrey the frightening authority figure.

"It's a simple strengthening potion. Drink it all at once, now."

"It's going to taste bitter isn't it?" Angie continued in her streak of immaturity.

"Angela! I'm in no mood to argue with you," Madame Pomfrey explained. With a reluctant sigh Angie tipped the awful stuff into her mouth and swallowed. "Very good. Now, have you been able to keep any food down?"

"Yes, I can keep most of it down. I mean...well, I always FEEL nauseous but I usually don't actually throw up." Madame Pomfrey frowned and put her hand on her hip. After a moment she plucked a book off a nearby shelf and thumbed through it. When she came to the page she was looking for her eyes scanned it and she frowned again.

She closed the book and put it back on the shelf and then turned to Angie. "The potion I gave you a few days ago didn't do anything? Not even temporary relief?"

"No...not really," Angie said nervously, feeling like she was offending the woman.

"And you took it all at once on an empty stomach like I told you?"

"Yes," Angie said, emphasizing her word with a nod. Madame Pomfrey heaved a huge sigh. She seemed to be composing herself.

"Angela, dear. I don't mean to sound presumptuous or nosy... and I don't mean to offend you, dear. But, would it be possible that you are pregnant?"

* * *

A/N: OK, so, I just want to tell everyone that the next chapter will start the beginning of the end...or rather the beginning of the climax...sort of. Anyway, the action begins next chapter so yeah. Just wanted to let you know. Thanks for reading!

I realize that I have been terribly remiss in my duty to offer gratuity for your continued faithfulness...so, here I will have a proper thank you section.

HBFred: I must say that your suggestion is amusing in its own way. However, that is a cliffhanger that happens all too often in real life...especially at your house! Anyway, thanks for the review. And, I think everyone wants to kill Kerri...

Lily Skylo: I feel eternally sorry for you for knowing someone just like Kerri. That sounds like an evil curse... Thank you so much for the reviews. You're reviews are also so thoughtful and you pick up on all the little things. That makes me feel special! LOL. Thanks!

Lily Lupin the first: No, I cannot resist leaving you speechless. It's so much fun! Well, chapter ten wasn't design to EXACTLY make you speechless. Not like the other ones anyway... I like you analysis of my characters. Angie and her pride and Sirius and his outdoing Christmas a bit... Anyway, I completely agree with you. They are too complicated. They take a step forward and two steps back and it's getting annoying. Lol.

Hazelmist: Oh geez! Josh and Kerri talk about the epitome of annoying...characters. Wow. You think you hate them...I have to write them! Well, you asked many questions, let's see if I can give you some vague answers, shall we? Ok, the rooms, the rooms are sort of random but they are important in about two or three chapters, you'll see why. Hermione and Harry are progressing at their doggedly slow pace but it will pick up quite suddenly. I suddenly realized that jewelry plays a very important role in this story. I never even realized it before but I have Kirsten's necklace...the ring...s...and the carbonated crystal. Ah well, I know I didn't say much but I promise, the next chapter the MAJOR events start to take place.

OceanGoddess: Well, I doubt this is what you had in mind for 'update more often' but its more often than usual... And, um, about that happy ending...it's happy...but deceptively. I think you'll understand once you read it.

hp_4ashley2000@hotmail.com: I know I know your penname but I can't think of it right this minute. Anyway, there was almost a little Harry/Hermione in this chapter. Almost. I promise some in the future, although, I'll admit, it's not much. Lol, thanks for reading.