"Luna!" Harry smiled and kissed the wispy blonde on the temple. She beamed back and gave him a fierce hug, holding on a second longer than expected. He looked over her head at Wolfric, who smiled blandly. "What's wrong Luna?"

"Life is very interesting, and it is during your darkest times that you find your truest friends." She said, pulling away and returning his smile, which had become strained.

"How is your father doing?"

"He isn't in any pain. He's finally sleeping now. I thought that was a good sign for me to make an appearance at the Ball, especially since its benefiting St. Mungos."

"Well said." Harry smiled down at her. He couldn't help but think of Ginny when he saw her, now Luna Rhodes. Her long flaxen hair had premature silver at the temples, looking out of sorts with her youthful, yet somewhat pale face. Rising through the ranks of St. Mungos Healing Staff, she became an accomplished mediwitch within three years, due to her uncanny ability to diagnose a patient before running tests. Quite a few timely cases were handled before much damage had set in.

"This is quite some shindig, isn't it darling?" Wolfric asked, putting Luna's arm in his. She nodded briefly and scanned the room.

"I see my shift captain. I would like a word with her before the night became too long."

"Don't think about work tonight Luna. Have some fun, just for a little while." Harry found himself saying. Out of everyone, Luna changed the most drastically. After the final battle, after losing Neville, she wasn't the same spaced girl he had come to love. She was razor focused, and she heard everything within earshot. Nothing passed her observance, and she recalled every detail in perfect order.

"I will have some fun later. But I have some work I was unable to attend to before having to leave to check on my father. If you'll excuse me, Wolfric, are you coming?" Luna turned back and asked her husband.

"Of course, as long as you promise we'll dance tonight." She smiled and patted his hand affectionately.

"Absolutely. Harry, I'll come by and see you again tonight."

"Of course. See you Luna." Harry watched them slide into the crowd with a slight smile on his face. A small draft of air touched the exposed skin on the nape of his neck, and he turned around, wand out. Angelina looked at the tip of it and raised an eyebrow.

"Could you please put that away? You'll scare the guests." She said calmly, holding out a crystal goblet of mead. He took it gratefully and swallowed deeply. "Better?"

"Much."

"They look nice together. I didn't know that Luna wore lavender so well."

"I didn't know that Wolfric did either." She sniggered and shook her head.

"Be nice Harry."

"I am nice. I didn't say it to his face, now did I?"

"No, you didn't. I'll give you that one. Are you mingling with the crowd?" Angelina picked up a small plate with miniature hors d'oeuvres and rooted around until she separated all the dainty pastries by type of meat.

"Sort of." Harry found that the bottom of the goblet in his hand was infinitely more interesting than anything else in the world while Angelina glared at him.

"Harry, the plan would work better if you mingle in the crowd. People think you're some sort of unapproachable person. Someone who should be steered clear of, but worshiped from afar."

"I don't care about that. I just want to keep my sanity. Do you know what someone asked me? They asked me what Voldermort's last words were." Angelina looked down at her plate. "I told him that he laughed, which he did. I didn't tell him why he was laughing. I already have a slack rein on my temper. People don't think before they ask questions."

"No they don't Harry, but you're going to have to remember, at your level of fame… you're not just Harry Potter… or the Man Who Lived. You're a source of great pride in England, and the people just want a part of that. They want to thumb their noses at Voldermort while he's in the grave, because its only then they'll confront their own fear. You saved so many lives, and they're just trying to feel how it feels to be you."

"They don't want to be me. I don't want to be me." Harry took the plate from Angelina and proceeded to eat all the crab puffs. She dusted her hands off and looked at him.

"Be nice Harry. I promise you it will work out. Whitman is due to arrive shortly, and Scrimgeour will be here in about two hours. So we're going to put on a nice face for the press, and since we know we'll make the Prophet tomorrow… we won't give them anything bad to write about."

"Of course. Why would they want to write about me?" He said mockingly.

"Mingle, Harry." Angelina said as she walked away.

"Yes mother!"

> > > > >

"Angelina?" She looked up as someone called her name, and a pretty flamed haired witch walked up to her. "I thought that was you."

"Rebecca? It's been years since I've seen you… how have you been?"

"I've been good, thanks. Since my family moved to France, I have been kind of out of touch with my English. But I came back after You-know-who was put out of his misery." She said conspiratorially and Angelina gave her a slight fake smile.

"Well, it's nice to see you back. So how's life going?"

"Well, I've just gone through a nasty divorce." Rebecca took another long swallow of her firewhiskey and took a deep breath. "It's been only two weeks since I've been able to say that without wanting to cry or break things."

"Well, I'm glad you're not doing either. People would stare." Angelina looked longingly at the wine glasses that were filling themselves perpetually.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"How's your life going? I heard you were married."

"I'm not anymore." Angelina said shortly.

"Ah. What happened?" Rebecca smiled, and Angelina realized why she didn't like the girl to begin with… she's was slightly on the stupid side.

"You heard about the attack in Hogsmeade?"

"Yes? What… oh…" Rebecca looked slightly apologetic and the few seconds of uncomfortable silence stretched forever in Angelina's mind.

"Yes...Why don't you go and enjoy the party? I'm sure my parents would be glad to see you after all these years."

"Alright, I'm here to snag myself a rich husband. I've decided I'm too pretty to work. But you know how it is for us purebloods. Either we're extremely wealthy or we marry rich!" She laughed prettily and Angelina had a brief fantasy of shoving a wineglass down her throat.

"I think I had forgotten, considering my husband didn't start off wealthy at all."

"Ah. Well, I heard that the famous Harry Potter is here."

"He's around here somewhere, but I would call him that to his face." Angelina smiled innocently as Rebecca frowned slightly.

"Don't tell me he's one of those moody types who broods often. He's still young, rich, and handsome. What could he have to complain about?"

"You know what, I haven't the slightest idea. Forgive me, I have to make sure the guests are having a good time." And that I don't slit your throat with a wineglass. Angelina thought to herself.

"Well, before you go, one last thing. I heard rumors that he was dating someone at the party." Rebecca said, stepping closer as if sharing vital secret news. "There's going to be a big write up about it in the Prophet tomorrow. I heard their lead reporter is in the room, so I'm going to find her and ask."

"What, you didn't overhear it when you were eavesdropping on someone's conversation?" Angelina said frostily, but the witch didn't notice.

"I tried, but I think after a second they knew I was listening. But do you know?"

"I haven't heard a rumor."

"Darn." The pretty witch pouted, her red nails bright against the chandeliers on the ceiling. "Well, I'm going to look around. It's not every day that you're going to meet the savior of the wizarding world. I hear he's scary."

"Why are you telling me this?" Angelina asked exasperatingly. Her temper and her patience wasn't going to allow her to walk away from this gracefully.

"Well, you went to school with him didn't you?"

"Yes, for a couple of years."

"Well, was he scary then?"

"He was extraordinary then, but things change. He can be kind of intimidating though… from what I hear." It was purely fascination that kept Angelina rooted to the spot talking to this woman.

"Well, you couldn't have spent much time with him after your Hogwarts days, am I correct?"

"Well, we know the same people. So I saw him at holidays and the like."

"Ah, well, that's hardly knowing a person, although I'm sure if you spread that around the room, your already high esteem will soar. I mean, to have Christmas Dinner with the Harry Potter…" Rebecca breathed his name as if it were sacred. "Oh Merlin…." She said, and looked positively faint.

"What, what is it?" Angelina asked, sort of concerned. Maybe she caused herself to get too worked up thinking about asking Harry Potter to pass the peas…

"He's coming this way. He's coming this way… go check on your guests now!" Rebecca hissed, smoothing her gown. Angelina's eyebrow rose and she threw a glance at Harry over her shoulder.

"What? You want me to leave?"

"Yes! I mean, you look nice and all… but he's obviously coming over here to talk to me."

"Why you?"

"Because you've been here at the party all night, and you've had your chance already. I read in Witch Weekly that he's looking to settle down, and he has a soft spot for redheads and nice smiles. Now go and check on your-" She closed her mouth as Harry came closer, smiling.

"Hello, how are you? I'm Harry Potter." He held out his hand and Rebecca looked at it as if it were a pile galleons. Recovering, she took his hand and pulled him a tad closer. Harry frowned and moved forward, and was immediately assaulted with the sheer volume of perfume invading his nostrils.

"I'm Rebecca Chase; it's a pleasure to finally meet you." She practically purred. Harry stole a quick look at Angelina, whose sour expression made little red flags wave in the air.

"It's nice to meet you too. Do the two of you know each other?" He asked, looking back and forth between the two women.

"I knew her before my father had her father transferred to France." Angelina said, and Rebecca's blue eyes widened briefly.

"Oh, she's far too modest. We're almost close enough to be sisters. How close are the two of you? I'm sure, being in different classes and all; you don't know each other that well."

"How close?" Harry looked at Angelina, who looked back at him with a blank expression on her face.

"Well, she's very important to me." He pulled her close and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. When they pulled away Rebecca had a sick look on her face. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh… no reason. Excuse me; I think I hear someone calling for me." Angelina smiled sugary sweet.

"Okay, I loved speaking with you; we'll have to do it again sometime." She called at her retreating back.

"What was that about?" Harry asked, slightly amused at the wicked expression on her face.

"Oh, absolutely nothing. So, are you enjoying yourself?"

"Somewhat. I think I can get used to this. I've always wanted to throw a party, but something not as fancy as this. I'm going to give it a whirl one day."

"Good… I'm going to make sure you'll-" Angelina looked past him and smiled evilly. "Guess who walked into the party?"

"Senior Auror Whitman, Order of Merlin 2nd class." The striking figure of Verbatim Whitman cut a heroic pose on the stairs, and the party goers general response was one of chilly reception. Apparently it didn't faze him, because the smile on his face was genuinely gleeful.

Angelina would have patted herself on the back if it were in good taste. The look on Harry's face on the other hand, produced enough heat to warrant a bucket of water. "There are very few people I hate. Despise maybe, but not hate. He has officially put himself on the list." He ground out, his gaze never leaving the sapphire robes of said gentleman.

"Harry, remember, keep your cool. The room is large enough so that I don't think you'll have a problem avoiding him."

"Who wants to avoid him? I don't." Harry made his way over, Angelina following a bit hesitantly.

"Harry, I beg of you, think of the-" Both she and Harry stopped as Mr. and Mrs. Caine came to confront Whitman.

"Hello Mr. and Mrs. Caine. How is your lovely daughter? Still want to fix her up with a respectable fellow?" He asked easily, extending his hand to Amaranth. The older wizard looked at it with such distaste that Verbatim wavered slightly and removed his hand.

"What my husband is trying to say is that we wouldn't have someone so daft anywhere near our daughter. She's happily pursuing a profession in Gringotts, and her career would only be derailed by such perverse buffoonery!" Belladonna said in a frosty tone.

"What? What would possibly lead you to believe that? Have I done something to offend you in anyway since we last spoke?" He asked, confused. Amaranth looked back at him in incredulity.

"I can't believe you thought you were going to keep this a secret. We've all been notified that a certain Auror that we are most indebted to. A Mr. Harry Potter."

"And his friend, Ronald Weasley. He's such a nice man, and you fired him just as his young wife was expecting? We thought we could expect more from you, but I guess we were wrong." Belladonna took a breath after her husband patted her shoulder. "Just so you're informed, you're no longer welcome about the house, nor the summer cottage. Verbatim… we are not pleased." They walked off stiffly, leaving Whitman standing in his place, jaw on the floor.

Harry's jaw was two inches above the floor as well, his mind wiped of all insults and injuries that he was prepared to wrought upon the unsuspecting Auror. "Well… said…" Angelina sputtered beside him, hiding a smile. "See Harry, when you make yourself accessible, people want to fight your battles for you. They're tripping over themselves to get a chance to do something for the 'Great Harry Potter.' So run with it."

"I don't know, I still want to say something." He said, his wand hand itching with urge to be used.

"You'll get over it. Now are you going to dance with me?" Harry turned back to her and smiled.

"Maybe. Have you been a good girl?"

"The best."

"Potter!" The blond man was stalking over, his cape swishing behind him with self righteous indignation. "You're behind this, aren't you?" The look Harry gave him was intense and very naked. The look of pure odium was as terrifying to look at as a relative that dressed in the dark… three sizes too small… and just as hard to look away from. Verbatim stopped briefly before gathering his courage and stalking forward. "You did this."

"I did what?" He said calmly.

"This! You turned them against me." The man sputtered and Ron came up behind him.

"No, I do believe you did that yourself. And you're making an even bigger ass of yourself by confronting Harry here… and if you confront Harry, you confront me too." The redhead said, jaw set as he handed his plate of food to Hermione.

"You don't seriously believe that I am going to give your jobs back, do you?" Whitman laughed slightly as his eyes scanned the room. His sneer relaxed into a pleasant smile, so if you couldn't hear the conversation, you would think they were sharing a joke.

"Are you still trying to save your reputation? By the time the party is over, you'll be over too." Hermione said sweetly, enjoying the look of dawning horror on his face.

"I have the approval of the Minister! He'll back me up." Verbatim said more to calm himself than anyone else.

"Well, I do believe Rufus Scurmigour will bow to whatever side is the most popular. As his administration is known for doing." She retorted.

"Minister of Magic Rufus Scurmegour, Order of Merlin 1st class." Angelina turned around in slight surprise, as did Hermione. He was early.

"Time for me to go to work." She said regretfully, handing Ron back his plate of food. Harry and Angelina watched her go before turning back to the indignant man.

"I don't think we have anything else to talk about." Harry said as he took Angelina's elbow and led her away, Ron following. The redhead looked down at his plate as he absently followed Harry, who looked back at him after a putting some distance between them and Verbatim Whitman. "Are you alright Ron?"

"What? Yeah, I just wondered what about him intimidated me, and for the life of me, I can't figure out a single reason." He laughed ruefully. "I'm going to go pull my wife away from work and dance with her, and I suggest you do the same." Angelina smiled softly as she watched Ron disappear into the crowd that gave him respectful distance.

"Well, that was interesting. Ron sure has changed since I last coached him on the Quidditch pitch." She said, tracing a design into Harry's hand, which was doing the same to the inside of her wrist.

"He saw many things, and did countless more, and sometimes I realize that while we were together for the last bit, there was quite a lot I don't know that happened. I hope one day he'll tell me." Harry admitted.

"Will you tell him the hell you had to go through to get to Voldermort?" Angelina asked curiously, and he vigorously shook his head.

"Why would I do that? I don't want to make it worse."

"Then know that's the reason why you'll never know what he went through. You're not the only one who wants to spare other people pain. Trust me."

"I don't want to talk about this anymore. Let's-" Harry trailed off as he felt someone coming behind him. He looked at Angelina, who looked over his shoulder.

"It's the Minister."

"He's coming over here?"

"Yes. Twenty paces and counting."

"Bloody hell."

"Do you want me to leave?" Before Harry could answer Minister Rufus Scrimgeour whirled him around by the shoulder.

"How dare you! How dare you presume to challenge a ruling by Britain's Minister of Magic? I'll so have you know that you cannot just do anything you want." Harry was barely listening to the rant; he was looking at the hand that was still on his shoulder.

"Minister, if you would be so kind as to lower your voice, this is supposed to be a party." Angelina said, trying to diffuse the situation. The man turned to her and gave her a once over.

"Ms. Johnson, if you'll be so kind as to excuse yourself from this conversation, I would be most gratified. Mr. Potter and I have some urgent business that needs to be attended too, and frankly, you have nothing to do with it."

That was it. Hermione winced and took a step back as she felt Harry's magical field expand. It wasn't conscious, just something that happened when he lost his temper.

"I would appreciate it if you would not only let go of me, but apologize to Angelina. You have no right to talk to her like that, especially in her own home, I don't care who you are. Second of all, I haven't challenged anything." Out of the corner of his eye he caught Hermione's hand signal. It meant silencing charm. He constructed one with nary a thought and continued speaking, his voice after the ambient sounds of the party halted.

"You haven't? Since I arrived various constituents have voiced their concern over your dismissal from the Auror program. Now where would they get that information?" The Minister asked pointedly.

"There are other people in the class besides myself and Ron. Why don't you ask them?" Harry replied calmly.

"Because I'm asking you. You've always endeavored to be a thorn in my side. I should have known this was coming years ago. You gave plenty of signs towards this type of behavior. If you can't have it your way, you don't want it at all."

"No, I do believe that is you." Harry's tone changed drastically, and Angelina took another step backwards. "I was sent off with my two best friends against the so called Greatest Dark Lord, and whatever Death Eaters that hadn't been killed at the Siege of Hogwarts. We kept that castle from being taken for a whole three days waiting for reinforcements. Hell, we were only students! We were waiting on the cavalry to come and take over! We did what we had to do, and as soon as the Aurors arrived, Hermione and Ron, who are two of the bravest people I've ever known, came with me and with their help we recovered the pieces of Voldermort's soul. Not a single Auror was sent to lend a hand."

"But you-"

"Don't interrupt me Minister." Harry looked at him sternly and continued. "Merlin knows what they've endured because we were all separated, but they were there when I died, and if it weren't for Hermione's knowledge and Ron's sheer will to not let me die, I wouldn't be standing before you.

"But what do we get? Useless runaround, hard times, and a lot of unnecessary and unwanted attention. I had to kill so many people in this room are happy and carefree… and you take away the one thing I am good at? The one thing that will help keep me sane?"

"That's what I'm talking about. Who but the next Dark Lord speaks like that? And if you cannot rein in your magic, I will be forced to have you escorted from the property." Scrimgeour was flustered slightly. He wasn't used to being spoken to in this manner, nor having someone's magic brush so harshly against his skin.

"Don't you dare say that!" Hermione finally spoke, looking down at the tile beneath her feet instead of anyone else. The look on her face was pained, as if caught up in a memory. "You weren't there. No one was there except Harry, Ron and I. You have no right to tell someone who sacrificed himself more than once to the fall of Voldermort that he's going down that path himself." She finally looked up, and she didn't look like Hermione at all.

"I have stood by you when you've made unpopular decisions; I have worked in the background to ensure that your policies are fair and direct… and I tried to turn a blind eye when you acted as if Harry and Ron hadn't contributed anything to Wizarding Britain's survival. I cannot stay silent now."

"And neither can I." Minister Verena stepped forward with a tight smile. "Rufus, you have misrepresented yourself and Britain to me in our talks." Her softly accented voice bounced against the silencing charm.

"Madam Verena, I wasn't expecting you until… tomorrow." Scrimgeour straightened his face, and calmed his voice. The slightly built blonde smiled again briefly.

"I know; that is why I came a day early. My dear friends the Johnson's heard I would be in the country, and invited me to the ball… which I am disturbed to find that you rescheduled my trip knowing full well that I love to dance." Harry looked mystified at Angelina, who had the good grace to look away sheepishly. "What am I hearing? Is it correct, you have allowed Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley, to whom both of their exploits have reached even our backward ears, to be removed from service?"

"Carmi, this has nothing to do with you, and I respectfully remind you that you're not in Switzerland any longer, and I am Minster here. I will take care of this." Scrimgeour grimaced at the looked he was receiving. He hated to seem out of sorts in public, but all could be soothed over, egos repaired.

"I do believe it involves me. The wizarding world almost destroyed itself by becoming isolationist. You were the one who told me that. If Britain has a problem, so does Switzerland and Lichtenstein, correct? We're in this together?" The Swiss Minister of Magic was a recent addition to the government there, and being the youngest witch elected to Minister, Carmi Verena had a lot to prove. Forging alliances all over the world was her claim to fame, and she made sure she stayed sincere.

"I understand that it seems-" Rufus was again cut off.

"No, it seems that you are being not only disrespectful to your heroes, but unappreciative. Now, I know that you wouldn't do that, would you Rufus?"

"Carmi, of course not. I just was about to reinstate Mr. Potter and Weasley to the Auror training program." Hermione smiled. Scrimgeour could backpedal with the best of them.

"Training? I think they've proven that they can handle whatever is thrown at them, don't you think?" Verena asked prettily, taking the Minister by the arm and linking it with hers. "I would hate to think I had to lure them away to Switzerland to make sure they received their proper accolades."

"Of course not Carmi."

"Oh good." They started off towards the tables of food, and Carmi threw a look and a wink over her shoulder, which Angelina returned with gusto. She turned just in time to see Harry stalk off as the party returned to normal as if wound on rusty gears.

"What's wrong now?" Angelina huffed, turning to Hermione bewildered.

"Harry needs to sort out what he's feeling right now. And personally, I have to go throw up." She rushed off in the direction of the lavatory, and Ron sighed and downed his goblet of mead.

"I don't know what to think personally, but I have no problem thanking the person who made that happen. You always did have a way with people Angelina." He smiled and kissed her on the cheek. "Thanks."

"I had a really good cause. Now go help your wife wipe the vomit from her face." She kidded, and he laughed and nodded.

"Quite right." Angelina turned towards the wall of windows that overlooked the property, and saw the scurry of people on the terrace as Harry gave them one glare. She passed them coming back into the party, and stepped out onto the stone balcony. The night was quiet and chilly, the snow fresh on the ground. A heating charm was extended about twenty feet from the balustrade for strolling couples, a very definite line of green at the edge of white drifts.

"My mother was a bit overzealous. She's very powerful when it comes to any spell that will make her life easier. Luxury spells are her specialty." Angelina said, trying to gauge Harry's mood. He just stared out over the dark forest and breathed. She tried again. "I don't think she's ever trusted any of our staff members to set the heating charm correctly, so she does it herself every year." The halfhearted laugh that escaped her lips made her want to stab her own instep with the heel of her shoe.

Time to change tactics… "Harry, what's wrong?" He looked over the wintry evergreens and thought about that question, and found he didn't have an answer. Or at least an answer that she would be happy with.

"I am slightly confused on how I should feel." Harry started honestly, turning to look at her. Angelina hopped onto the stone rail so that she was facing him.

"Elated perhaps? You have your job back."

"But at what price? When do I get to be judged on being Harry Potter, the Good Auror instead of the 'Boy who Defeated Voldermort'? When does that happen?"

Angelina frowned and looked away. "I don't know what to say, and honestly, that is probably centuries away." He glared at her and sighed, running his hand through his hair.

"I'm just so angry. It seems as if he's forgotten what we did. Like the years have trivialized what happened at that castle. Hermione didn't speak one word for three weeks afterwards, and Ron had to be given dreamless sleep just to get some shut eye."

"Harry, you wanted the Minister to leave your fame out of the picture, but remember what you did?" Angelina repeated him just to make sure that she heard correctly.

"Exactly."

"Well, you're famous because people remember what you've done." She tugged on his lapel, pulling him closer. "I know what's bothering you. You feel you shouldn't have had to beg for your job back, am I right?"

"No, I don't think I should have had to. I get so heated sometimes." Harry laughed mirthlessly. "I get angry at the stupid little witches who stop on the street and point and squeal. I hate those who think that killing Voldermort was something that was a walk in the park, and given a crack at it, they could have done the same."

"Harry… which way do you want it? Adoration or abandonment, because I promise you the wizarding world doesn't do gray areas well."

"I just… I want to forget, but I want everyone to remember; every day." He ground out, gripping the stone on either side of Angelina's hips.

"Why would you wish that on someone?" She asked; her heart hurting to see Harry in such pain.

"Because I remember it every day. Everyone who died when Hogwarts fell and every single person I had to kill to get to Voldermort. I want to forget. I don't want his face in my mind. Even in death he's still with me. I can't seem to get away."

Angelina looked at him, and wondered if she could really help Harry get through his mind-set when half the time she was fighting back hysteria herself. If not, now was the time to walk away, no strings attached and no harm done. If she lingered… destruction was sure to rip them both apart for the last time.

"Harry…" She began, closing her eyes against the tears that were always ready. He looked at her and Angelina opened her eyes to stare into the brilliant emeralds that were one of his best features, his most honest and naked feature.

"Angel?"

It was official, Angelina Johnson, formerly Angelina Weasley, was a coward of the most contemptible form. And it was furthermore official that she didn't want the man in front of her to leave her ever. "Care to dance?" The words were shaky and the trembling was really too much. The concern on his face was extra hard to watch, and she buried her face into his shoulder.

"I guess. But why not out here? I don't want to go back in there unless it's for a quick trip, which qualifies getting something to drink and getting our cloaks so we can leave."

"Sounds good to me." She looked at Harry and felt a rush of pride that surprised her slightly.

"What are you thinking?" He asked; curiosity on his handsome face. Angelina gave him a quick kiss on the lips and shrugged.

"I think I'm falling in love with you."

"Oh, is that all?" Harry teased, which earned him a good punch on the arm. "Still have that same right hook I see." He said as he rotated his shoulder.

"Oh stop being a baby. Since you've set the parameters for returning back into the foray, I nominate you to go get our drinks. Then we can have one dance since this is a ball, and say goodbye to people and leave. I've had enough of large crowds for at least another year."

"Here here…." Harry said good naturedly. "Thanks for taking the time to get me out of my funk. I can be an enthusiastic wet blanket."

"Really? I would never have guessed." Angelina shoved him towards the door. "Now hurry up." She kidded.

"Geez… you think you know someone…" Harry threw another look back over his shoulder and memorized the look of Angelina against the moonlight in her silver dress. Absolutely beautiful….

> >

Angelina looked over her shoulder and squinted as something lurched closer. She hopped down from the banister and leaned closer to see the emerging form. As soon as the animal cleared the trees and into the moonlight, Angelina was running down the steps. A deer was dripping blood thickly across the untouched white snow. The sight was stark against the beautiful idyll that was the quiet forest.

She reached where the deer collapsed and realized that there was nothing she could do. Pulling out her wand she prepared to spare the animal any further pain when a tightly gripped hand grasped her wrist and another came to her neck, pulling her upwards and back, so she was on her tip toes and looking up at the magnificently clear sky. "One word… and I'll eat the flesh on your bones without a thought. Drop the wand, and no funny stuff, because at this angle I could snap your neck before you could take a breath."

> > > > >

"Really? That's interesting." Harry said; trying to keep the same stiff smile on his face as the redhead in front of him chattered on and on about something while he pointedly kept motioning towards the fact that he had two drinks in his hand.

"Yes, so I thought I would invite you to my family's villa on the Rivera."

"Rebecca, is it?" Harry asked again, trying to keep the look of distaste from showing. "I'm sure you read the latest copy of Witch Weekly, which said that I love long walks on the Rivera, and I collect puppies and enjoy picnics."

"Yes, I did… the Villa's very large, and my family won't be there for at least another two weeks." She smiled and flipped her hair over her bare shoulder. Harry briefly was reminded of Ginny before the woman opened her mouth yet again. "I'm sure we can find something to do on the beach that is more interesting than walking… if you get my drift…" Rebecca took a jungle green nail and ran it down the front of his chest. "My, and you work out… that's always a plus."

Harry stepped back slightly and sighed. "Okay, here we go. Don't believe everything you read in Witch Weekly. To tell you the truth I inherited a house on the Rivera, and I rarely go because I hate the crowds and it's boring. I don't like dogs, and I don't like cats, and I don't particularly enjoy eating outdoors unless I have to, so if you'll excuse me." Harry bowed slightly and walked away rolling his eyes.

"Angelina, you must tell me where you met your friend, because I don't think you could be more-" He frowned at the empty balcony and looked around. On the grounds he saw the dead dear and fear welled up inside of him so quickly that it made him dizzy. Setting down the drinks, Harry closed his hand around his wand and pulled it out slowly.

Maybe he was overreacting. There was nothing that suggested a struggle, and he clung to that until he jumped down to the grass and walked over and looked at the snow. It's paranoia. It has to be. The snowdrifts were untouched as he came closer to the forest. Nothing to really raise his hackles, but they were raised nonetheless.

Angelina told him a little about the house they were hosting the party in. It was formally called Broxton Mills, and it had, in addition to the 25 room main house, twelve small houses for on site staff and various work houses. The night was quiet and the desperation was overwhelming. Something was wrong, and what was so maddening was the fact that there was absolutely no sign that there was. Looking down, there was a scrap of silver fabric that caught the light.

"Turn around slowly Potter, or she dies very messily."