A/N: sorry about the long update! Just finished writing it now. Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: Don't own anything.

Chapter 3

Hope bit her nails, her nerves getting the better of her. The skin around them was red and painfully raw from her gnashing teeth, and her backside was numb from hours of sitting on the cold stone floor of the Great Hall. Every sound, every explosion, made her jump and look around. What she was expecting to see, she didn't know, but she hoped it would be enough to overcome the Death Eaters. Because if it wasn't, Michael would be in big trouble...

Hope looked up at the enchanted ceiling, hoping that the sight of the expanse of stars would calm her nerves. They didn't. Your mother – your real mother – is Ginevra Weasley. No matter how hard she tried, she could not those words out of her head. She knew now that she had to have been telling the truth. Why would she lie about something as enormous as that?

Guilt still swamped her, but right now, her worry for Michael was stronger. Was he okay? Would he get hurt? She was sick with worry, and yet, she could not make herself get out there and help. She wondered what they could possibly do to defeat the Death Eaters. Hope knew it was impossible. As soon as she thought this, Michael's words rang in her ears. 'You used to be so full of, well ...hope'. It was then that she finally realised how much she had changed. It was not her mother's death that had caused her to change - it was this place. This place where hundreds lived in abject poverty, this place where death roamed, this place where she had spent her childhood, had changed her – had sucked out her hope for the future. Michael was right; they had to get out – and fast. No sooner had she made up her mind that she heard noises out in the Entrance Hall. It did not sound like the usual accidental explosions.

Hope scrambled up and sprinted towards the doors. The usual crowd of people were already there, but they were all standing. Shrieks rang across the hall, and people scurried to and fro. Hope tried to push her way through the crowd to see what was going on, without success. She instead settled for leaping up and down and catching glimpses of the scene ahead,grateful – for the first time – for her gangly height.

A scruffy looking man with dirty blonde hair was facing the doors, shooting jets of light at three Death Eaters guarding the door. He dodged the countering attacks of the Death Eaters who had their backs to the double oak doors. Hope wondered how he had gotten the wand, before she noticed the limp body of a dark cloaked figure on the ground. She jumped again, and caught a glimpse of another man sneaking up behind a busy Death Eater, brick clutched in his hand. She fell back to earth before she could see what happened. With an annoyed huff, she leapt for the sky, just in time to see him bring down the brick – hard – on the Death Eaters head, sending him sprawling to the ground. He snatched the wand from the fallen Death Eater and joined the duel. So that's the plan, Hope realised, just knock them out and steal their wands.

A loud bang exploded through the hall, and Hope saw the scruffy-looking man flying through the air, landing hard on his backside at the other end of the Entrance Hall. The other man, now armed, shot a jet of red light at another Death Eater, who stiffened as straight as a board and fell. Now there was only one Death Eater remaining. Well, at least until the others came. Just as Hope was about to leap, she caught a glimpse of a familiar mop of coppery hair through the throng of shrieking people.

"Michael!" she called out, but she soon lost sight of him.

Hope finally gave up on the jumping, and determinedly started elbowing her way through the crowd. She was almost knocked over at one point by a large, beefy man, but continued on, reaching the front. She could see Michael clearly now, sneaking up behind the remaining Death Eater, a plank of wood held at the ready. She watched, heart thudding, as he crept forward.

Suddenly, she realised the crowd was parting, and she stood aside too. About a dozen Death Eaters ran towards the fight, shouting out. Michael took this moment of distraction to swing the plank of wood at the Death Eaters head, instantly knocking him out. With a shouted incantation, a Death Eater at the head of the group pointed his wand at Michael, which sent him flying just like the other man.

"No!" Hope screamed out, but it was drowned out in the chaos of the hall.

She looked desperately around. Michael had said there was a group of people planning this. Surely he meant more than the three of them? Sure enough, she saw a couple of people clutching planks of wood in their hands, hurriedly hiding them under their robes. Cowards, she thought bitterly.

The crowd surged in around her again, and she found that she was stuck in the middle. She tried the elbowing technique again, but this time it only resulted in glares and shouted curses.

"Stop!" she called out as the Death Eaters magically started transporting the offending group up the marble staircase. She saw Michael's body floating ahead of a Death Eater like a puppet on a string, his head lolling to one side. She had to get to him.

By the time Hope got out of the crowd and raced up the stairs, the Death Eaters were no longer in sight. They had gone up to the seventh floor.

Panic arose in her, suppressing her breathing. She had to tell someone, but who? Michael's mum! she thought suddenly. She did not know his mum well, but it was the first person she could think of. Hope had known his dad as well, but he had passed away a few years ago from illness. She raced back down the staircases, not caring when she ran into people. Finally, she reached the hole in the wall and clambered through. She immediately caught sight of Michael's mother, who was chatting to another woman on the couch.

"Mrs Watson!" she blurted out loudly.

Michael's mother looked up and smiled warmly at her. Her short, coppery hair matched her sons. Before she could open her mouth to answer, Hope hurriedly continued. "It's Michael, he's been captured by Death Eaters!"

Mrs. Watson's face paled and her eyes widened. She bolted up from her seat and came towards Hope. She gripped her shoulders in both hands while scrutinising her under her gaze.

"Are you sure?" she asked, her voice quavering.

Hope nodded tearfully.

Mrs. Watson gasped, and stood frozen with shock. Hope touched her shoulder, and murmured a few incomprehensible words. Mrs. Watson sank down onto the cold stone floor and let out a tearful cry.

"My Michael, my precious Michael," she wailed.

This was not helping. Hope had come to get help, but obviously she had come to the wrong person. What would they do to him? Hope had feared they would kill him on the spot, just like last time, but obviously they had other plans. Her heart thudded, racing a mile a minute.

The other woman Michael's mother had been talking to came over and started to comfort her, shooting Hope a few killer glares as if it were her fault. Hope made a split second decision, and ran out of the room. Her legs burned as she thudded up a flight of stairs, and then another, and another... until she finally reached the sixth floor.

The corridors were deserted in this area, and Hope knew why. The air was thick with a chilling presence: the Dementors. The Dementors guarded the only staircase onto the seventh floor night and day. Turning a corner, Hope saw the cloaked figure, floating to and fro near the stone steps. She raced on ahead, trying to ignore the mind-numbing chill. A Dementor swiftly swooshed in front of her, blocking the way.

"I need to get up there!" Hope cried, dodging the Dementors mottled hand as it came towards her.

She raced past the first, but another grabbed her arm unexpectedly. It's hands were ice cold on her flesh, and it gripped her with a surprising strength. She struggled against it, kicking out. Before she could call out, she heard voices and footsteps coming down the stairs. If the Death Eaters caught her here, they would do much worse than the Dementor... But the more she struggled, the more the Dementor's grip tightened. With a sense of helpless dread, she the shadows cast by the flickering torch light descend down the staircase.

The first person Hope saw made her heart rise. It was Michael.

"Michael!" she called out.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here? Seems like the Dementors caught a pretty little rabbit," said a Death Eater mockingly. He had a pale, pointed face with white-blonde hair.

Michael was walking ahead of him, along side the two other men that had been in the revolt. But as they drew closer, Hope noticed something was not quite right about the three of them. She realised the Dementor had let her go after the Death Eater arrived, and she rushed ahead towards Michael.

"Michael!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around him. She pulled away when he didn't answer. With a gasp, Hope realised he had the same, blank look like some of the people in the castle. His eyes were empty of emotion, and everything else, and he did not react when she called his name. She looked desperatly over at the other two men, and she realised they were in the same condition.

"What did they do to you?" she whispered, looking back at Michael, searching his eyes. He continued to stare blankly ahead.

"What did you do to them?" she said accusingly, glaring at the Death Eater. But the Death Eater seemed lost for words as he stared as if he recognised her.

"What did you do to him!" she screamed, tears in her eyes. Had they tortured him to madness? Put a curse over him? Anger burned inside her, demanding her to attack this Death Eater.

Instead of acknowledging her screams, he continued to stare at her with wide eyes. "It can't be," he muttered.

"What's going on here?" asked a voice from behind. Another Death Eater, attracted by all the noise, came up from behind her, looking from her back to the blonde Death Eater questioningly. "Well, Malfoy? What are you waiting for? Just kill her!"

The Death Eater raised his wand, but the blonde one stopped him. "NO!" he said, holding out his arm. He looked back at Hope, his eyes leering. "I think the Dark Lord would like to meet you."

"What are you talking about?" asked the other Death Eater, but the man named Malfoy merely ignored him.

"C'mon, girl. Let your boyfriend go."

Hope still determindely clung to Michael, who was still not responding. She glared daggers at the Death Eater, but her heart was pounding. Had he said that the Dark Lord would want to meet her? But why? She remembered her mother mentioning something about the Dark Lord, but Hope hadn't understood. Why on earth would the Dark Lord want anything to do with her?

"You're gonna be like that, eh? Well, no problem," he said, raising his wand.

The next thing she knew, there was a great flash of light, and Hope felt herself falling into darkness.

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As soon as she slipped back into conciousness, she felt her body aching all over. Her limbs were stiff from lying on the cold ground. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she saw that she was in a large, circular room. She wondered how long she had been here. Probably only a few hours, as everything was still dark. With a groan, Hope sat up and kneaded her stiff shoulder. She could hear footsteps pacing outside, and see the sliver of light underneath the door.

As the events of the past few hours washed over her, she realised how stupid her actions had been. She had achieved nothing, and had gotten herself captured. Ithad beenmore an act of desperation then logic.

"Michael," she whispered to herself, tears welling in her eyes. At least he wasn't dead. But then, what had happened to him? His eyes had seemed so empty, as if... as if he had no soul.

With a shudder, she remembered what the blonde Death Eater, Malfoy, had said. Were they going to take her to the Dark Lord? What would he do to her? All this waiting was unbearable, and she had a sickening feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach.

Suddenly, with the heavy sound of a bolt being slid open, the door opened with a creak and light spilled into the room. Hope lifted her arm to shade her eyes against it, and caught a glimpse of a tall, red-haired man being dragged into the room before the door slammed shut again. She listened in silence as the man lay panting on the ground. She edged away from him, towards the door and the light.

"He's a Weasley," said a voice on the other side of the door. Hope stiffened when she heard the name. Weasley? Hadn't her mother been a Weasley? So was this man related to her?

"Um... excuse me," she said apprehensively.

"Who's there?" said the man. He probably hadn't realised there was anyone else in the room.

"Um... Hope," she said, hoping that he would somehow recognise the name. If he was a relative, wouldn't he recognise it?

"Who?"

She saw him pull something out of his robes, and she shrank back.

"Lumos," he said, and a bright light illuminated the room.

"You - you have a wand!" Hope exclaimed.

"Shhh, they'll hear you," he said, pointing towards the door. "Now, what did you want to know?"

"Well," Hope began, but she was cut off by his surprised expression. It was that same expression of recognition that had been etched across Malfoy's face.

"My God," he whispered, eyes wide. Hope noticed that his grey-streaked red hair was tied back and a tooth of some kind dangled from one ear. Before she could ask what was wrong, he continued. "You look exactly like him. But how can it be? Unless... unless he and Ginny... No, it couldn't be." Hope got the impression that he was talking more to himself than to her.

"I look like who, exactly?"

"You don't know?"

Hope shook her head, impatient. She was finally going to find out who her father was!

"Harry Potter."

She gasped at the name. Harry Potter. The last time somebody had mentioned that name, they had been killed for it. Harry Potter had been a dark wizard, years ago, who had tried to overrun the Dark Lord. They had been told that they would have been much worse off than they were now had Harry Potter succeeded.

Surely, this man would know all this? After Hope had told the man all this, his eyes grew steely with anger. "So this is what they've been telling you, is it? Lies?"

"But - but they're not lies."

The man shook his head, his fang earring dangling, and laughed bitterly. "Imagine that, Harry's own daughter believes he's evil. What would he say if he knew that?"

Before Hope could open her mouth to speak, he ploughed on. "Harry Potter was not a dark wizard, nor was he power hungry like You-Know-Who. He was the only one who almost succeeded in overcoming the Dark Lord, but You-Know-Who got him in the end."

Hope was silent.

"You didn't know you were his daughter, did you?"

Hope shook her head, her mind still reeling from what he had told her. It seemed that in these last few days she had found out that her whole life was based on foundations of lies, and only now, after fifteen years, were they being knocked down.

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