I know I haven't exactly done the best with Rochelle but I am trying! And YES Brindabot, I am having a writer's block. But just because I am having a writer's block doesn't mean I stop writing. It just means I don't write WELL. So if everyone will excuse how crappy this chapter is (you all might not think it's crappy, but to me it just feels bad and forced and wrong and I don't like it but oh well... oh yeah and sorry about McGonagall I know she's a bit OOC but oh well)

As usual, everything in here belongs to either Marianne Curley or JK Rowling. The only things that are mine are what is not theirs'. (That might be incorrect grammar but too bad)

Matt felt like he was being squeezed through a funnel, and was nearly sick all over McGonagall's robes. Just before he could follow through with the action, the feeling stopped and he felt fine. Very confused, but otherwise fine.

"Where are we?" he asked the teacher hoarsely.

McGonagall looked down at him with a mixture of contempt and empathy. "Saint Mungo's Hospital," she answered before dragging him—along with Ethan and Harry, Matt saw—into the large building before them.

A few hours and a couple of healer visits later, Matt found himself lying on a cot inside of an ordinary-looking hospital room that he was sharing with Ethan and Harry. McGonagall was glaring at him.

"I want you and your friends out and away from Hogwarts immediately," she commanded. "I don't care where you go or how you get there—stay away from my students!"

Matt almost glared right back at McGonagall, but stopped himself in time. He was so tired of people thinking he was the leader! The Prophecy was wrong when it named him as the one destined to lead the Named into battle—he didn't even have any powers! And yet here was Professor McGonagall, clearly taking him for the leader of their mission. Matt pointed at Ethan. "Don't look at me," he grumbled. "I'm not in charge of this whole thing."

McGonagall rounded on Ethan, but before she could say anything he was ready with a quick response: "Professor, you gave us permission to stay until Lathenia attacked," he pointed out, holding a hand to his head with an expression of pain on his face. "The Goddess of Chaos has yet to strike."

"Really?" the overprotective teacher asked sarcastically. "What do you call the events that took place earlier today, Mr. Roberts? The events that nearly lead to your own death, and those of Mr. Becket and Mr. Potter?"

Ethan shook his head, causing his eyes to go out of focus for a moment. "That wasn't Lathenia," he murmured, trying to regain his balance. Matt smiled; even though he had come close to death, now he felt absolutely fine, as if nothing had happened to him. And yet here was Ethan, the golden boy of the Guard, writhing in pain that remained from this afternoon's adventure. Of course, Harry wasn't looking much better—if anything, the Chosen One was looking worse. Harry kept rubbing at his lightning-bolt scar, as if pain seared through the damaged skin.

"Well then who was it?" McGonagall demanded. "Your own father, Mr. Roberts, was the one serving the drinks that contained the poison."

"My father is not a murderer or a traitor!" Ethan yelled, and nearly blacking out from the effort.

"It wasn't his father," Harry muttered, still rubbing his scar. "That one was Voldemort, or at least one of his Death Eaters."

McGonagall's look softened when she looked at the obviously aggrieved seventeen-year-old who was destined to save the world. "How do you know this, Mr. Potter?"

"My scar keeps burning," Harry replied. "That only happens when Voldemort is nearby, or feeling something incredibly strong. The last hasn't happened in a while, though…" Harry seemed to drift off into his own thoughts, verbalizing them for the benefit of everyone else in the room. "I haven't felt it like this, though… it's not the usual rage or happiness. This is—it's—it's almost like—." Harry stumbled for words, finally getting a grasp on what he wanted to say. "Ginny." Well, maybe it wasn't so strong a grasp as Matt had originally thought Harry had had.

"Voldemort doesn't have Ginny," Ethan reassured Harry. "Ginny was in the joke shop with us, remember?"

Harry shook his head furiously, but then had to lean back into his pillows for support when he nearly lost consciousness. "Not like that," Harry said in a tone that was almost scolding. Matt could see a blush starting to grow across the wizard's cheeks, turning his usually pale face a bright crimson. "He's feeling what I feel… when Ginny's around."

Matt laughed, leaning forward in his bed to get enough air between chuckles. "Voldemort… is… in… love?" he gasped out. "That's… hilarious!"

"No, it's really not." Matt stopped laughing to see what had gotten Ethan all gloomy. When he saw Ethan's face, though, all remaining hints of laughter left Matt's face. "If Voldemort is in love, it means he's finally met someone who can match his cruelty. It means he's met Lathenia."

"Voldy and Lathenia, sittin' in a tree." The three boys and McGonagall looked up suddenly to see Isabel smiling in the doorway, the rest of their newly-formed group behind her. "K-I-S-S-I-N-G!" Isabel directed the chorus of teenage voices. "First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the baby in the baby carriage!"

"How did you get here?" Matt asked, recalling how McGonagall had had to perform side-along Apparition in order to get him, Ethan, and Harry to Saint Mungo's.

Rochelle stepped forward. "We went in the fireplace!" she exclaimed. "It's so awesome, you have to try it sometime. You step in and yell where you want to go, and then you feel a bit sick for a moment or two, and then you fall out exactly where you had yelled that you needed to be!"

Ron looked almost scared behind Rochelle's shoulder. "I don't know which is scarier," he explained, "the version that's always slapping me for pervertedness, or this version."

"You've only discovered two?" Ethan asks, shocked. "She's got plenty more hidden away. I'm surprised you haven't found all of them out yet."

"There's more?" Ron gasped. "Bloody hell, how many more are there?"

Ethan counted on his fingers. "There's the one where she's angry… the one where she's happy but doesn't want to show it… the one where she thinks no one can see how depressed she is… the one where she thinks she has to prove herself—no, wait, that one's Isabel—the one where she feels guilty, but somehow ends up playing defense in the argument…"

"How long are you guys going to be here again?" Ron asked nervously, watching Rochelle stick her tongue out at Ethan. "How can one person have so many personalities?"

"It comes from listening to the thoughts of whiney people like you all day," Rochelle rounded, instantly angry. But then she laughed, breaking the tension that had begun to build within the room.

Matt knew this act very well. This was the sort of thing Rochelle always did when she was trying to hide how she truly felt, and that emotion was usually relief for someone. Matt had seen Rochelle hide that emotion from him sometimes, but now that look was not his; the constant glances that Rochelle were giving to the infirmed Ethan revealed who had truly worried her while the three boys had lain dying on the ground.

"I'm sorry to break up the reunion," McGonagall cut in, "but we still have yet to discover how poison ended up in the cup Shaun Roberts served to Harry Potter."

"My dad didn't put it in there," Ethan said quickly, leaning back against his pillows, his face pale from so much laughter. "There's no way my dad would ever turn traitor. And we've already told you, Professor: this is wizard's work. No one from our time period had anything to do with the poison."

"Then how did the poison come to be in Harry Potter's cup?"

Ethan gave the witch an amused grin. "I only learned that the magical world was real a few weeks ago," Ethan said to the teacher. "You tell me how poison could have ended up in that cup."

McGonagall's face actually flushed, but Matt could not figure out why. "Shaun Roberts could have been placed under the Imperius Curse," McGonagall began. "Or perhaps one of his assistants put the poison into the cup without Shaun's noticing. It would be very easy to do, in as busy a place as the Three Broomsticks."

"So what do we do?" Isabel asked Ethan. "We can't exactly interview every staff member at the Three Broomsticks, can we? Even if we could, it's not like they would tell us the truth, and we can't make Veritaserum or cast a truth spell or anything… they could even use Occlumency to keep Rochelle out if they wanted to."

Matt had an idea, and spoke out: "We can't interview the Three Broomsticks staff, but we can check out Shaun. We can tell him to open his mind for Rochelle to sort through his memories of when he was preparing our drinks, and when he served them to us. Maybe even a bit before that, as well. That way we can see if someone Imperiused Shaun, and we can keep an eye out for the people who had made the drinks so we can be prepared if there is a 'next time'."

Rochelle, Isabel, and Ethan showed Matt three shocked faces, as if they had thought him incompetent up to this point. Finally, Hermione broke the silence. "What if someone had put Shaun under the Imperius Curse?" she asked. "Couldn't they also have modified his memory?"

"I'll be able to see that," Rochelle said confidently. "Memories that have been toyed with tend to be a bit sharper than natural memories. But if that's the case, then at least we'll know for sure that it's a wizard who's out to get us."

"Me," Harry corrected. "A wizard who's out to get me. None of your drinks were poisoned, were they? Ethan and Matt just got poisoned because I asked them to drink it… It's all my fault they almost died."

"Oh, come on," Isabel said, rolling her eyes. "You sound almost like Ethan with his stupid hero complex!"

Ethan looked offended. "My 'stupid hero complex' has saved your life more than once," he reminded Isabel in a reproachful manner. "You should treat it with more respect."

Isabel bowed at the foot of Ethan's hospital bed. "I apologize, sire!" she said in an exaggerated tone. "I shall treat the hero complex with more respect in the future!"

"That's more like it." Ethan smiled and rested back on his pillows, looking a bit pale. Nevertheless, he brought his hands up behind his head to look jauntily down the bed at Isabel.

Matt shook his head, still wondering how he and Ethan ever managed to repair their friendship. He leveled his gaze on McGonagall once again and asked, "So when are we getting out of here, Professor?"

McGonagall explained that the healers had gotten all of the poison out of the boys' bodies, and that they were free to go whenever they were ready.

"'Free to go'," Ethan repeated. "That makes it sound like we're here under punishment. Personally, I think this mission has been the most interesting one I've ever gone on!"