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The Characters and situations of Harry Potter depicted in this story are the legal property of J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury, and AOL Time Warner, and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is being made off this site, and is for entertainment purposes only.

This chapter has been revised as of April, 2005 and contains new content. It has also been modified from the original NC-17 version is located at Checkmated and is rated R.

Of Hearts and Heroes

Chapter Two

Hagrid sputtered, "'Cause, 'cause Harry's not 'ere."

The strange woman seemed to be amused. "Really? That's interesting, given that he's behind that tree over there, watching us."

Oddly enough, Harry wasn't particularly surprised at the witch's announcement that he and Ginny were hiding behind a tree, spying on her. Perhaps, he had finally reached his limit for revelations. Maybe he'd just reached his limit for emotions in general. Had he finally gone numb?

Nails dug into his arm, deep enough to draw blood… now that wasn't numb. Suddenly, Harry was very aware of Ginny next to him. He forced himself to think about what they should do. Should they run? Should they confront the woman? Perhaps Harry could distract her, and then Ginny could run. Could he convince her to go? Not likely. He sighed helplessly, and watched to see what the woman would do next.

Hagrid was still stammering and shaking his head. "No! What! No. Harry's not there—here, I mean…no," he insisted.

The woman rolled her eyes, placing her hands on her hips as she looked over where the two teenagers stood. "Come on out, Harry. You're not accomplishing anything by dawdling. What do you think I'm going to do to you, anyway?"

Harry almost laughed. What would she do to him? The possibilities were endless. Harry turned to insist Ginny stay put…

"And your friend, too," the witch said in a weary tone. "It's getting late. Don't you want to know who I am and why I'm here? Trust me, you want to know." The last part was muttered, but it caught Harry's attention.

Ginny pulled away and walked out from behind the tree before he had time to consider there next move. She left Harry with nothing to do but follow, shaking his head with annoyance. Hell of a lot of good it did trying to be noble with that girl. She had a bloody death wish.

"Look, what we have here," the woman said, throwing Hagrid an I-told-you-so look. She walked briskly toward them. Harry took a step closer to Ginny, as the witch stopped a few feet in front of them. She took a deep breath, her expression losing a touch of its edge. "So, you're Harry," she said, looking him over carefully. Harry thought he saw a moment of vulnerability, but it quickly left as she turned her attention to the girl next to him. "And you are…Ginny, is it?"

Something about the witch knowing Ginny's name made Harry's heart clench. He grabbed Ginny's arm and hauled her next to him.

The woman formed an amused smile, then her brow furrowed. "Huh," she said, her expression changing. She looked like she had just encountered an intriguing puzzle. "Well, isn't this interesting?" She shook her head and gave a soft bitter laugh. "Destiny has quite the sense of humor, don't you think?"

Ginny sneered, "So, you know who we are. Who the hell are you?" Harry looked at her wide eyed. The red-head certainly had stones, more than were good for her.

The strange witch's lips twitched, showing no signs of intimidation. He saw Ginny clutch the wand in her pocket. If the woman noticed, she ignored it, saying simply, "I'm Adrianna."

"Adrianna what?" Ginny bit out angrily. Harry pulled her back. That girl was going to get herself hexed.

The woman's eyes lit with the challenge thrown at her. "American Aurors don't have last names. Not ones that we use anyway."

Harry sensed Ginny's sharp retort coming and he pulled her back roughly, purposefully stepping in front of her. He didn't need her antagonizing this woman, especially if she were telling the truth about being an Auror. Shite, what must an American Auror be like? They thought Mad-Eye was around the bend. He could just imagine the recklessness.

"So, why are you here?" he asked carefully. Harry tried to get control of the situation, tried to pay attention to everything that was happening. It was so hard. His brain hadn't been working as quickly since Sirius had… He shook his head to clear it. The woman was looking at him with an almost concerned expression. It really pissed him off. "Well?" he snapped.

The irritating concerned look turned back into a bitter smile. Harry was relieved. "I'm here…" she began, and then stopped to sigh again. "Because, as I said, destiny's got a wicked sense of humor and apparently I'm just destiny's bitch so…"

Harry eyes narrowed, not in the mood for diatribes or cryptic nonsense.

"Fine," she said shortly. "I had a vision. When I ignore visions really, really bad things happen. So, I do as I'm told. This particular vision said you and your friends are in danger. There are two others…another redhead and a curly haired girl…?"

Harry's thoughts flashed to his friends in the hospital wing, his hand tightened around Ginny's arm. He wasn't going to let anything happen to them.

The concerned expression was back on this Adrianna's face. "Are they all right?" she asked. Harry shook his head, not understanding what she was asking. "Relax, I didn't come all this way to hurt you," she said wearily.

He scowled at her. "Well, you delivered your message. You can go back to wherever you came from now." Harry started to back away. It was difficult as Ginny didn't seem to want to be dragged along and he wasn't leaving her behind.

"Hold your horses, cowboy," Adrianna laughed. "If that was it, I'd have sent an Owl. I'm here to protect you."

"What!" Ginny screeched.

Harry pulled on her arm, cutting her off. "I don't want your protection," he bit out.

The witch was unfazed by their protests. "You have about as much say in this as I do, which is practically none. I'm here whether you like it or not."

Harry couldn't believe this was happening. He couldn't believe Hagrid was just standing there like a bloody rock. He had to get Ginny out of there. He needed to get word to Dumbledore.

"We can go find Dumbledore if you'd like, that's fine," the strange woman said calmly.

Harry took a sharp intake of breath. That wasn't the first time the woman had answered an unspoken thought or question.

"You're reading our minds!" Ginny accused heatedly, before Harry had a chance. Adrianna's expression was completely unapologetic, which only made another wave of fury radiate from Ginny. "How are you doing it?" she demanded. "Seers are not generally good at Legilimency."

"I am not a Seer," the witch stated firmly, as if disgusted by the thought. "And it is not Legilimency. I'm an Empath. It's all part of the fun prize package."

It was too much information for Harry. He didn't understand. "What's an Empath?" he hissed to Ginny. She shook her head.

"You're kidding," Adrianna said incredulously. "You've never heard of Empaths? You know, people go on about this great Hogwarts' education, like it's the best ever. Pathetic."

Ginny visibly bristled and harshly countered, "Yeah, well I know that Empaths read emotions and not thoughts."

"Evidently, we can do both." The woman's expression was smug. "Especially, when the thoughts and emotions are particularly well connected." Ginny's jaw was clenched tight. Harry wondered what she'd do if he let go of her arm.

Hagrid cleared his throat, stepping forward nervously. "The study of Empaths isn' priority 'ere, miss, seein' as they're all dead. Er, I mean, we thought they were all dead."

Harry's eyes flew to the woman whose claim had just been refuted. Ginny gave a small triumphant "humph" at Hagrid's words, if to say, 'Ha! Explain that!'

The woman's eyes flashed. She seemed genuinely angry for the first time. "Really and why would you presume such a thing?"

Hagrid swallowed. "'Cause ther last known Empath were twelve when…" The large man faded off and his eyes widened as he looked over the woman. "Blimey, wha' did yeh say yer name was?"

The woman seemed to deflate a bit at his expression, but she didn't answer him. She almost seemed anxious.

"Adrianna," Harry answered for her, wanting to know why Hagrid was having this reaction. "She said it was Adrianna. Does that mean something to you, Hagrid?"

His large friend's eyes flew between Harry and the woman repeatedly, back and forth. "Blimey," he said breathlessly. "Blimey...that's…that's just not possible."

The woman smiled an ironic smile, "Course it's possible."

"But she…you…Blimey…" Whatever she was, it was clearly shaking Hagrid. He looked like he was about to hyperventilate.

"What!" Ginny demanded with impatience. "Who is she?"

Adrianna ignored her, instead approaching Hagrid and placing a hand under the man's elbow. "Hagrid, you seem a bit unsteady on your feet. Maybe we should get you back to your cabin. I don't know if I know a spell strong enough to move you if you should pass out," she joked. "Besides, I'm exhausted and they," Adrianna looked at Harry and frowned, "haven't eaten for…days? Hmm. You certainly need someone to look after you, don't you?"

"How dare you—" Ginny bit out.

"I dare a lot of things," she said casually. "Come on." She gave a slight pull at Hagrid's elbow.

Their large friend looked down at her, asking with awe, "Is it really you?"

"It's really me," she said gently and to Harry's surprise when she put pressure on Hagrid's elbow this time, he followed easily. As they walked toward his cabin, Harry stood frozen in indecision. "You coming?" Adrianna threw over her shoulder.

Harry looked down at Ginny. She was looking up at him with question and longing. He watched her eyes follow the two down the path. It was clear Ginny wanted to find out what was going on, whatever danger that might entail.

Sighing, Harry threw his better judgment to the wind and followed.

Ron sat against the short, uncomfortable headboard of Hermione's hospital bed. She was stretched out next to him on her side, her head resting on his chest, crying silently. Ron clumsily attempted a soothing, circular pattern on her back with his hand.

That's what one was supposed to do, right? The circle thing? He seemed to remember that's how his mum comforted Ginny when the twins had destroyed yet another of her dolls.

After Ron had summoned every ounce of Gryffindor courage he possessed to approach his sobbing best friend… Holy shite, he had touched her. He actually initiated an embrace with Hermione. Hermione, his best mate. The girl best mate. The brilliant, perfect, pretty one.

Wow, that was quite a bit of courage Ron had found there. Not that it meant anything. It was just a friend thing, a comfort thing. Hermione had been really upset. He would have been a complete prat not to do something about it. Even still, it was one of the hardest things he'd ever done.

He had touched her. On purpose. It didn't seem like a big thing, but it was. For some unknown reason Ron had been terrified to touch Hermione since the day they met. It was mental really. It wasn't as if he was standoffish. He came from an affectionate family. Casual friendly touching was something that he had always been comfortable with.

Hermione had always been the exception. From the day they met, touching her just made him…uneasy. He figured it was just that she was so intimidating, so pristine, so perfect. Past that, he had never thought much of it. Then last year when he randomly had this thought. This odd, uncomfortable thought that touching her would be… bloody brilliant.

It was an strange thought. Ron often wished he had never thought it. He had been sitting next to her in class and pop, he had the thought that it would be fantastic if his hand touched hers. Just a brush, nothing special. The thought was so disquieting that he had quickly initiated an argument that guaranteed he wasn't in touching distance of her for two weeks.

The thought faded and Ron had been relieved that things went back to normal. Then a month later she leaned over to show him something in his Charms book and her hand did brush his…and it was bloody brilliant. Why, he didn't know. It was just a brush. It shouldn't feel good. It shouldn't feel like much of anything, especially when it was your best mate.

So, again he started a row. And so it went. Periods of calm and then the thoughts came back, just briefly, and threw him off balance again. Then there was the time she kissed him before the Quidditch match. Ron didn't even want to think about the crazy things that did to him. No wonder he played so poorly.

But this time Ron had initiated it. It was the very first non-accidental touch Ron Weasley had initiated with Hermione Granger, his best friend who was also a girl. Exactly the kind of girl one shouldn't be touching. She deserved more respect than a stupid bloke touching her for his own perverted pleasure. Only a boyfriend was allowed to do that. And since Ron couldn't think of a single wizard worthy of that title, no man should be receiving that particular pleasure from his Hermione.

The biggest problem with that was that Ron currently was receiving a perverted thrill from embracing her. He had to constantly remind himself that this was about comforting her, not about his pleasure. He had to embrace her. Hermione needed him.

Ron was merely making her feel better and it seemed to be working. Well, she seemed to have calmed down at least. Her eyes were closed and she was all soft and pliable against him. She was kind of clinging to his shirt, as well. That meant she was comforted, didn't it? For once in his whole bloody life, Ron seemed to have done something right.

Not that he knew what he was doing. When Hermione started to cry, he had panicked. Embracing her had been an act of desperation. He fully expected her to rail at him or push him away in confusion. Yet, she hadn't. She had kind of fallen into him, and soaked his shirt with tears. It was rather scary, really.

Also, it was somewhat painful. It was bloody uncomfortable leaning over a girl for so long. His legs ached and his wounds burned. And damn could that girl cry, and cry, and cry. Madam Pomfrey had come and gone. She'd seen Hermione sobbing her heart out, sectioned off Professor Clipclop, and politely left them alone.

The frightening hiccup-sob thing Hermione was doing finally faded to ordinary weeping. It took another several minutes for Ron to build up the courage to listen to his aching back. He had managed to move them against the headboard to stretch out his overly long legs. 'Course, he hadn't taken into account the way the hospital bed head-board would dig into his back. At least Hermione looked comfortable That's all that really mattered.

Ron still couldn't believe he'd managed it. He certainly hadn't expected that he could actually make her feel better. Hell, comforting a girl had never worked before, especially not with Hermione. All he ever managed to do was make matters worse.

Yet, now she was curled up in his arms. He hoped she actually wanted to be there. Was she just being polite to spare his feelings? 'Cause that would be a very 'Hermione' thing to do. Ron snuck a glance at her face. She had stopped crying, but hadn't moved from where she was cuddled up against him. No, he was doing it right for once. He was sure of it.

He had tried to console a girl and it had worked and it wasn't some stupid simpering girl either. This was the ever-brilliant, ever-controlled, always-knows-what-to-do Hermione Granger. And right now, what she needed was him. He felt proud, humbled, and profoundly terrified all at once.

"Ron?" Hermione asked in an uncharacteristically small voice.

"Hmm?" he answered absently as he was pulled from his thoughts. This was the first either of them had spoken since the embrace began.

"I'm really worried about Harry."

Shite. Now, she wanted to talk. Holding her was one thing. Once he had managed to do it, it was hard to screw it up. But talking? There was no way he was going to be able to say the right thing. God damn it, she was going to be back to yelling and blubbering at any moment.

Ron needed to think. Crap, what should he say? He was rubbish at this. Finally, he decided on agreeing with her. That was always safe . "Yeah, so am I." Ron swallowed, as he waited for her response. He was afraid she would see right through him, not that it wasn't true. He was worried. He wasn't obsessed like Hermione, but that didn't mean he wasn't worried.

"He's been through so much," she continued and Ron relaxed a bit, his first comment not having seemed to cause any real damage. "To never know your parents, to be raised by monsters, and then to watch your Godfather die. To watch him die because you had been tricked, because he was trying to save you. It must be killing Harry."

Hermione closed her eyes with a soft whimper. Ron had the urge to brush her hair off her face. He even lifted his hand to do so. Then he noticed what he was doing and quickly dropped it. It took a full minute to realize Hermione wanted a response. Bloody hell. What could he say that was comforting when she was right about all of it?

"Harry will be all right," he said softly. Hermione pulled away and looked up at him, hopeful and expectant. Shite. Shite. Shite. Ron swallowed. "He's strong. Otherwise…um, how could he have got this far?"

Again Ron froze, fearing the response. Hermione looked down. His heart skipped a beat. She nodded, "That's true."

It was? He had said something true, something right? Like he was right?

"But—"

But. Of course, there was a 'but.'

"What if this is one time too many? What if it's the last thing he can take? What if he pulls away again and this time we can't get him to come back to us? You saw what happened after Cedric died, after he was left alone last summer, after your dad was attacked. This is going to be worse. What if we lose him forever? I know it's selfish, but I don't want to lose him," she broke off with another sob.

Ron pulled her back into his chest in instinctive desperation. She was killing him. He felt so helpless. "We won't lose him," he told her, more confidently than he felt. His voice was hoarse even to his own ears.

She pulled away again and looked him in the eyes, her jaw squared, her face streaked. "How do you know, Ron? How?" she demanded.

This is what he was afraid of. Now what? He steeled himself. "Because we won't let him?" Ron hoped she wouldn't notice that it was a question.

She pulled away in earnest this time. Bloody hell, he'd mucked it up now. Hermione wiped her face dry and tried to push back her mass of hair. It fell right back onto her face. Finally, she nodded and Ron released a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding.

Hermione's spine straightened, resembling the girl he knew so well. She nodded with more confidence. "No, we won't."

Oh…well that went better than expected.

"We will…we'll just have to make him talk about it," Hermione continued, speaking more and more rapidly. "We'll show him exactly how this isn't his fault and how he shouldn't feel guilty. You know what we should do? We should make a list. Two lists actually. One with all the things we need to tell him and another with strategies of how we'll make him listen." Hermione leaned over, reaching for parchment in the bed stand. She had barely moved when she cried out in pain. She doubled over gasping and clutching her side.

Ron watched her with growing dread. "Damn it, Hermione. Are you all right?" He went to reach for her, but had already forgotten how.

"Don't swear," she reprimanded between gasps.

That made Ron laugh and it jerked him out of his stillness. He carefully touched her arms and brought her back to lean against the headboard. As she struggled to control her breathing, Ron asked, "All right?"

Hermione shook her head violently. "No, I am not all right. I am sick of being an…an invalid. I need to go and find Harry."

"No, you don't," he said calmly. "This thing with Sirius can't be fixed. Harry's going to be grieving for a really long time. He doesn't need you killing yourself in order to force him to talk about it. This isn't an exam. You can't draw up a schedule for him and nag him until he's over it."

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Ron panicked. Now, he'd gone and done it.

"I know that!" Hermione cried

As predicted, Ron was making matters worse.

"I just need to do something."

And of course, she burst out into tears again. He made her cry. Again. Way to go, Ron. He felt an intense need to run from his own incompetence. But she needed him more, so he took a deep breath. What was he supposed to say now?

"Hermione…" he started carefully and then he gave up. Words tumbled unbidden from his lips, "I dunno, Hermione… I dunno what to say. It's all overwhelming and horrible. I mean no one I've ever really known has died before and I dunno what to do. All I know is I'm sorry I made you cry again. I'm just a giant prat."

Ron reveled in his own incompetence. Why would a girl like her even be friends with an idiot like him? He could barely string two cohesive words together.

Hermione looked up at him with watery eyes. "Oh Ron!" She launched herself at him. In shock, he could do nothing but catch her and hold her gratefully. "I just feel so awful. I can't stand it," she cried.

Ron wished she wouldn't say things like that. All he could do was nod into her shoulder and try not to humiliate himself by bursting out into tears.

"It's my entire fault," Hermione continued.

He pulled away roughly and looked in her eyes. "How can you say that?"

"I knew it was a trap. I should have—"

"Bulls—codswallop," Ron interrupted. "You were suspicious, we all were, but no one knew what was going on. We just, just…" His voice caught, "wanted to help Sirius." Why did his throat have to be so thick?

"But I should have—"

"You should have what? Seen the future? You know what, I shouldn't have been walking around like a giddy bumbling idiot, breaking tanks with brains, and making matters worse. All while my best friends and sister were in mortal peril. If any one should feel guilty here, it's me." He closed his eyes with the shame of it.

Ron felt her touch his face. "That wasn't your fault," she whispered

Ron scoffed, refusing to open his eyes. "That's only because I'm not important enough for it to be my fault. I'm too extraneous to do anything but get in the way---"

"Stop it!" Hermione cut him off harshly, punctuating it with a slap to his shoulder. He winced as she hit a burn. "Sorry," she muttered.

Ron ignored her and the pain, shaking his head. Didn't she see what a royal screw up he was? "If I was better at Defense, if I took school more seriously I could have blocked the curse. If I was stronger, I could have fought it off. If I wasn't so thick and weak---"

"I said stop it!" She grabbed his face. "Open your eyes this instant."

Hermione could be such a bully. Ron opened his eyes. Her face was so close to his. He didn't deserve how good it felt to have her thumbs brushing away his pathetic tears as she cradled his face in her soft hands.

"I don't ever want to hear you say that again. They were just stronger than us." Her voice was almost seemed too strangled to continue. "And you are important. You're important to me." Shite, now she was crying again. They were both pathetic. Ron pulled her to him and rocked her. "You are not stupid!" she yelled into his shoulder.

He didn't answer her. As much as Ron appreciated Hermione's words, he knew they weren't true.

Ginny surveyed the people around her warily. Her arms tightly crossed, she sat stiffly at Hagrid's oversized table.

Hagrid was anxious and distracted. He had the look he always had when he had a secret and no idea how he was going to keep it. He was doing his best to avoid eye contact with Harry and Ginny, bustling around the cabin, gathering a make-shift meal. Well, he was doing the large man's equivalent of bustling, moving as fast as his bulk would allow.

Harry sat next to her, uncomfortably close. He was doing an impressive display of his usual noble-hero crap, focused entirely on any threat this Adrianna would hold to Ginny. Typical Harry. That was the only thing typical about Harry's behavior.

Even now, with his defensive stance, Harry's expression was frighteningly blank. Ginny wondered if he even cared about what happened to himself anymore. She worried that if it weren't for Ginny's presence he'd accept this strange witch out of shear exhaustion and desperation.

That was where Ginny came in. It was her job to figure out exactly what Adrianna wanted. She gritted her teeth and leveled a steady gaze on the strange woman, determined to control her emotions and not let woman know what she was really thinking and feeling. And what she was feeling was confusion. Confusion and panic.

Not because she sensed danger…but because she didn't. Actually, she was a bit alarmed that she couldn't get a clear hold on Adrianna and her motives. Ginny considered herself a fairly perceptive person. She could size people up relatively quickly. Usually. This time, she just wasn't sure. What was clear was the woman was arrogant, rude, and annoying, which didn't necessarily equate to evil.

Instinctively, Ginny felt…well, her instincts didn't fail her often, but when they did it was not good. And right now, Ginny was not inclined to follow her instincts. There was something about this woman that drew her in, made her feel like lowering her defenses.

It must be magic, probably Empath magic. Yet, there was something familiar about the witch, the shape of her jaw, the curve of her mouth. It didn't matter, Ginny was determined not to trust this woman and not to allow her to see her ambivalence.

A soft chuckle broke the silence. "Ginny?" the woman asked. "You do get the concept of an Empath, right?"

Ginny's carefully composed expression fell away as the words sunk in. Shite.

Adrianna smiled Hagrid placed thick slices of meat pie and Dandelion juice in front of them. "Thanks. Eat," she commanded Harry.

To his credit, Harry didn't move a muscle. The woman lifted a fork full of pie to her lips. Ginny got a perverse sense of pleasure from the look of horror and disgust that came over her face. Adrianna turned a questioning look to Harry, who merely gave a half-hearted shrug.

Ginny watched with amusement as Adrianna frowned and looked around the room in what looked like a desperate attempt to get rid of the offending food. Catching Hagrid with his back turned, the witch flicked her wrist toward the back of the room, muttering something under her breath. A hanging cauldron clattered to the floor next to Fang, sending the dog into a rage of loud barking.

Ginny's stomach clenched as her fear of the witch increased. Her eyes were immediately drawn to Adrianna's face. Shite, now she knew that Ginny was afraid of her.

"Fang, ya mangy mutt," Hagrid said, ambling over to him. "What's got into ya, boy?"

As soon as the large man was distracted, Adrianna pulled out her wand. It immediately caught Ginny's attention. The wand was an odd champagne color with intricate carvings.

Adrianna leaned over the table; clearly intent on performing a spell on their food…like that would make them more likely to eat it. But as she bent over, the witch froze, listening. There was a long moment where she appeared to be concentrating, listening to something at a great distance.

"How would Dumbledore know someone was on the grounds if they walked?" she asked, astonished. "He couldn't have spying devises along the entire perimeter."

There was a knock on the door. Ginny's heart rate further accelerated. Hagrid was looking around the room like frightened animal, not sure which way to turn. Though, to Ginny, it was Harry's lack of response that was most concerning.

There was another knock and Hagrid sprung into action, moving to the door so quickly that the floor shook. He yanked the door open and breathed a sigh of relief. "Professors," he greeted.

Professor Dumbledore stepped into the cabin. "Hagrid, we heard you had a visitor," he greeted conversationally, a relaxed smile on his face.

Hagrid stepped back, allowing Professor McGonagall to enter as well. She wore a scowl that made Ginny shudder. Dumbledore approached Adrianna, considering her carefully. She rose to her feet warily, meeting the headmaster with a strange intensity. Did Dumbledore know that she was an Empath?

Ginny watched the quiet standoff, waiting for the woman to explain herself, but it was Hagrid who couldn't handle the silence. He burst out, "She's an Empath, Professors. Says she 'ad a vision and now she's 'ere ter protect Harry." There was a long beat where the teachers stared at Hagrid, McGonagall's eyes wide. The large man sputtered, more softly. "Says 'er name is Adrianna."

McGonagall gasped. Her hand flew to her mouth, her eyes to Adrianna's. "That is not possible."

Dumbledore remained calm, carefully perusing over Harry and the stranger in turn. Finally, he met Adrianna's steady gaze. "We had presumed you were dead," he told her.

Adrianna smiled a bitter smile. "And why would you presume that?"

Dumbledore, ever unruffled, responded, "You disappeared from the magical world. No one could make contact."

She gave a short huff of a laugh. "And that equals dead?" Adrianna shook her head in annoyance. "You mustn't have tried very hard. I didn't disappear."

McGonagall broke in with a bark. "This is absurd. She isn't an Empath and she certainly isn't…her, Albus. It is preposterous."

"I beg your pardon," Adrianna said, her ire rising. "I most certainly am an Empath and…her."

Ginny watched the exchange with growing dread. If she wasn't an Empath than what was she?

The Scottish professor was furious. She advanced on the woman, who stood her ground, merely tilting her chin up to keep the older woman's gaze. Adrianna's only sign of distress was the defensive manner in which she crossed her arms.

"Empaths do not live past the age of twenty-four. She would have been twenty-eight. Therefore she is dead," the professor reasoned heatedly.

Adrianna's eye's narrowed. "I am well aware of being four years past my expiration date, but that only means I'm the oldest Empath in five centuries. Not that I'm dead."

"It's impossible," McGonagall said even more forcefully. "She must be dead, without magical training---"

There was a loud bang on the table, making Ginny jump. Her eyes jerked over as Harry stood. "Would someone please tell us who she is?" he demanded.

Ginny could almost feel Harry's fury. It was wonderfully comforting. At least he was feeling something.

McGonagall's cool gaze went to Harry. "Mr. Potter, I think it would be best if you stepped outside for a moment---"

Adrianna laughed incredulously, crossing her arms tighter. "Harry stays."

"How dare you..." McGonagall snapped

"On the contrary," the woman said coolly. "I think you'll all agree that if I am who I say I am, then I have more of a right than anybody."

Ginny almost laughed. She hadn't said who she was, no one had.

McGonagall drew herself up straighter. Ginny looked over to Dumbledore who seemed content to stand back and watch the action unfold. "You have a long way to go before you prove you are anyone, young lady," McGonagall said sternly.

Adrianna relaxed. "That's fine. I'll prove it then." She sat back in her chair.

"Wait---" Harry angrily began.

Adrianna's gaze went directly to his. She shook her head. "In a moment, Harry. Let me do this first."

Harry sat back sullenly, but without protest. Ginny began to worry over the influence this woman might be able to exert on her very vulnerable friend.

Adrianna turned to the professors. "Are you going to join us?" she asked, gesturing to the chairs.

"Yes, yes," Hagrid said, suddenly realizing his lapse as a host. "Please sit. Can I get you a drink?"

Dumbledore graciously shook his head and pulled out a chair for Professor McGonagall. Sitting himself, he folded his hands calmly and fixed his gaze on Adrianna. "You understand, my dear, that we were under the impression that the Empath in question disappeared into Muggle America sixteen years ago and received no magical training."

Adrianna rolled her eyes. "I assure you. I have received plenty of magical training. Just recently, I spent two full years in Japan in almost continual magical training…but regardless, you require proof?"

McGonagall's eyes narrowed as she crossed her arms tightly. "If you can manage."

Ginny sat back in frustration, now she was going to be forced to listen to the proof of something, when they no idea what that something was.

"The Empath in question was the first and only Empath born in the last century. Is that correct, Professor?" Adrianna was addressing McGonagall directly. The professor nodded tersely.

Adrianna leaned across the table and concentrating on McGonagall with a frightening intensity. "Right now, you are feeling guilt and a slight bit of panic. You are worried that I am telling the truth and maybe that means you should have tried harder to find me or at least have told Harry about me. Maybe, just maybe, Harry would have been better off living in America with us, instead of with his mother's awful relatives. Your intensions were good, but now you doubt yourself."

Ginny swallowed, eyes flying to Harry. Why would he live in America?

"Now, you are feeling intense anger, which you are desperately trying to keep in the forefront. You want to believe that I am lying." Adrianna leaned still closer, reaching out and pressing her fingers to the back of the professor's hand. McGonagall was frozen in shock. The Empath smiled. "You are going through all your knowledge of Empaths. You are thinking of all the girls in the Empath line. How most of them never survived infancy. How others went crazy by puberty. You are remembering how all Empaths have been described as quiet, distracted, soft-tempered girls. You're thinking that I'm obviously nothing like that.

"There is confusion and desperation. You're remembering your Grandmam, Emma McGonagall. She used to hold you in her lap when you were a small child. There's the love and sadness… you miss her. She used to tell you about Bronwyn McCabe. She was an Empath who died in 1808 at the age of 16. After mediating peace among her clans she died of sheer exhaustion. Of course, the fighting restarted soon after she died and her line was destroyed.

"Do you believe I'm an Empath now, Professor?" she asked mockingly, withdrawing her hand and sitting back.

"Scotch anyone?" Hagrid asked nervously, placing drinks in front of the two Professors.

There were long moments of tense silence. Finally, Dumbledore addressed Adrianna quietly. "The Empathy is truly remarkable." Adrianna merely shrugged and he continued, "Do you want to tell Harry or should I…"

McGonagall cut him off. "Albus, you can't possibly believe her? It's not possible." She looked at him entreatingly.

"Minerva, look at her. She's the image of Isabella."

Adrianna smiled. "You believe me too, Professor. Whether you admit it or not."

McGonagall looked like she had no intention of admitting anything. "Empaths don't read thoughts," she snapped.

The Empath eyes flared with challenge. "They don't live to twenty-eight either."

Harry cleared his throat loudly. "I believe someone was going to tell me what the bloody hell is going on here."

Ginny raised her brow at the swearing in front of the teachers. No one reprimanded him. She supposed that, above everything, was a testament to the gravity of the situation. She had the distinct impression that the answers were going to throw Harry into a place he really couldn't handle right now.

"Actually," Adrianna responded looking at Harry then Dumbledore. "Given the situation. I think it would be better to show Harry. Professor Dumbledore, I'm sure you have the necessary equipment in your office. If we could trouble you…"

He nodded. "Of course." He managed to remain completely unflustered, while McGonagall was white as a ghost. Dumbledore rose, helping her to her feet. "Mr. Potter, Miss Weasley, if you'd…"

Adrianna's eyes flew to Ginny. "Weasley? Your name is Weasley?" she asked incredulously.

Ginny swallowed, nodding warily.

The Empath gave another bitter laugh, closing her eyes and shaking her head. When she opened her eyes she asked, "And I suppose the other redhead is a Weasley, too."

Ginny didn't answer but she supposed her expression said enough.

"Why?" Harry asked, sharing a worried glance with Ginny.

Adrianna just shook her head. "I just knew a Weasley a long time ago." She paused and Ginny thought that they wouldn't get anymore information out of her, but then she continued with a sardonic half smile. "It seems…fate is in rare form tonight."

Thank you to RedMoonChick, kjcp, JenB, and Texasmagic.