Hope shifted uneasily in the straight backed wooden seat. She was determined to keep her eyes fixed on her Converses which her feet were so often clad in. She studied them carefully; desperate to find something else to focus on rather than what was happening to her. This isn't happening, she thought in pure desperation, not really. It can't be, it doesn't make sense. Hope knew that was a lie. It made perfect sense, really.

Her thoughts were broken by a soft cough. She looked up slowly towards the source of the noise, and her gaze fixed on a man she knew all too well. She smiled sadly as she looked at him and took him in. His long purple robes dashed with silver stars, the long silvery beard, and the half moon glasses she loved to see him wear. He smiled back at her, and tears immediately welled up in her eyes. She didn't know why the sight of him made her smile from happiness and cry from sadness at the same time. Maybe it was because she loved the way this man was, so kind and gentle, but she hated how he was the last link she had to her family anymore. The man, upon seeing her tears, quickly walked around the desk to her, and knelt down beside her.

"No," she said, swiping her tears away, "no, Uncle Albus, don't kneel down. You still have a bad back." She dropped her gaze back again to her dirty Converses. He gently tilted her head up again so that their gazes met.

"My bad back is the least of your worries, Hope," he said, a little too matter-of-factly for her liking.

"What am I going to do?" she whispered, looking away from him.

"Well, this is what's going to happen, if of course you agree. After all, you are of age," he replied, his voice warm and caring. "Tomorrow is the 31st of August, but the day after is the first of September and after all these years of hoping and wishing, your dream will finally come true. You will take the train from Kings Cross at 11am sharp, and arrive for your final year of magical schooling, and your first year of Hogwarts."

"Are…are…you're not pulling my leg are you?" she asked, looking at him with a quizzical expression.

"Trust me my dear, I would never joke about something as important as this," he said, winking.

Hope couldn't help but smile, amidst all her tears and all her sorrow; she smiled a smile of complete joy and happiness. She quickly threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!" she exclaimed.

"Now, calm down just a moment, you didn't let me finish the reasoning behind your coming to stay here," he said, pulling away from her tight embrace, his face straight and serious. She looked back at him, her smile quickly fading from her face.

"I know why. He's after me, isn't he? You-know-who, he killed my parents tonight and now he wants to finish the job," she said her voice full of fear.

"Yes, and no," said Albus, "Voldemort does not know that you are alive. Nor did he ever. He came to your parents' house tonight, to kill them yes. However, in true Tom Riddle style he forgot to do his research, and therefore assumed that everyone who was in the house of your family was your entire family. However, that obviously was not the case, for here you sit before me. Alive and well."

"So he just came to my house and killed my parents, thinking that he had killed the whole family?"

"I believe so, yes." There was a pause, during which Hope was deep in thought. After a while she said, simply;

"But, why?"

"Why your family?" he asked her, and she nodded. He paused for a moment, obviously thinking of how to word what he was about to say. "Hope, are you familiar with prophecies, and how they work?"

"Yes, I am," she replied, wondering where he was going with this.

"Well, shortly before your parents got married, a prophecy was made. A prophecy concerning your family."

"Mine? Why the hell on earth would a prophecy be made about my family? We're boring! Well, at least, we were…" she trailed off, feeling rather stupid for not remembering what happened tonight before she blurted that out as if she still had a family. She sighed.

"Well if you would let me finish, I would tell you. The prophecy said that your family would be the only people to know the secret to destroying a certain artefact. The destroying of this artefact is crucial, for its destruction will make sure that Voldemort can be killed. Of course, once Voldemort got wind of this, he had to do something about it. Voldemort had spent his life trying to make himself immortal, and your family is the only thing that can stop him from being so" he explained, in a calm tone that made it seem like destroying Voldemort was an everyday occurrence. Perhaps it is, she thought, how much do I really know about my Godfather anyway? But his continuation of explaining what had happened interrupted her thoughts;

"And that my dear, is where you come in" he said, placing a long finger on her forehead. She wrinkled her nose, like she always did when he did that. "You are the only remaining person from your family, due to the unfortunate circumstances. And so you are the only living person who could possess the knowledge of how to destroy the artefact." She stared at her Godfather, and then looked away quickly.

"But," she started, looking at an interesting tapestry hanging on the wall, "But I don't know how to destroy whatever this is."

"You won't, not right now. Not until the right chain of events triggers the magic within you to know," he said knowingly. She looked at him, with doubt written all over her face. She didn't know whether to believe him and let fate do its dirty work, or laugh at him. Was there really magic within her that would spark and let her suddenly know how to destroy whatever this was? And what was with that anyway? Why would destroying some object kill Voldemort, huh?

She continued to wonder as she clambered into her bed for the night. Uncle Albus had taken her to a dingy house somewhere in London. It really was the most peculiar place; everywhere she looked there were snake ornaments or snake shaped things. It unnerved her, to be honest.

It was well past three in the morning, this she knew, for the last time she had checked the time it was half past two, and it was at least an hour after that, yet she could have sworn she heard voices up above her. She listened hard in an attempt to hear what they were talking about, but with no success. She was only able to gather that there were two boys and a girl, and their voices sounded worried.

Hope turned over and brought the sheets up so that they covered her entire body, leaving only her head exposed to the room. She thought about what had just happened, and for the first time tonight it really sank in. She had no family left; they had been murdered and she was the only one left. Hope buried her face in the musty smelling pillow, and cried. She cried well into the night, feeling so alone that words could not possibly describe it. She had lost all she had; she was perfectly alone in the world.

"Shh!" said Hermione urgently. "Can you hear that?"

Harry and Ron both, stopped and listened. It felt like they had been listening for at least five minutes before anyone spoke again.

"So, uh, what are we meant to be listening for?" said Ron, a little confused.

"Shh!" said Hermione again, more urgent still. "Can't you hear that? It's someone crying!"

"Crying?" said Harry inquisitively.

"Yes! Listen!" said Hermione again, and they sat in silence, listening. Sure enough after a few more minutes of silence, the faint sound of someone sobbing could be heard from the room below.

"Who d'you reckon it is?" said Harry, looking from Hermione to Ron. Both their faces showed clearly that they knew nothing.

"Your guess is as good as mine, mate," said Ron, who shrugged and returned to his card pyramid.

"Should we go and check it out? Make sure they are okay?" asked Hermione.

"No," said Harry defiantly, "Would you like someone walking in on you while you were crying?" he asked, more of a rhetorical question than anything else, but he knew Hermione would answer it anyway. She always did.

"No," she said, "No I suppose not." She looked severely disheartened by having to pass up this opportunity to help someone, but seemed to think it was the right thing to do for she fell silent after that.

Harry yawned widely, and to his shock she suddenly said "Finally! Now we can go to bed!"

Harry looked to Ron, who was looking back at him with a look that mirrored his perfectly, pure confusion.

"Hermione? What in hell?" Ron asked her, putting his palm to her forehead to add to the affect that she may be sick.

"Oh Ron, for goodness sake, don't do that, I do not have a fever," she said, slapping his hand away. He looked at her reproachfully clutching his hand in mock pain, "I was waiting for someone to yawn so that I had a reason to go to bed."

They looked at her blankly. Then Ron broke the silence.

"Girls are really weird," was all he said. Harry didn't feel the need to reply, or make any gesture to say that he agreed; there was no need, and Ron knew that he was thinking exactly the same thing anyway.

"Whatever," said Hermione in retaliation as she climbed into her bed, "Ron, if you snore loudly tonight, I may just have to hex you into next year, Right?"

"Err, yeah." He said, his ever present confusion dripping from his voice, "Err, Hermione? Why aren't you in your own room?"

"Because," she said shortly, "My room is being used, apparently by the sobbing person below. Honestly, Ronald, your skills of deduction leave a lot to be desired, and it's not as if you care that I'm sleeping in here anyway."

Harry smiled to himself as she climbed into his own bed and pulled the sheets up round him. He enjoyed seeing Hermione get one over on Ron, even if he never admitted it to Ron.

"Well, nobody thinks to tell me these things do they? I mean, there might have been a completely different reas-", Ron began, but Harry cut him short.

"Stop complaining, everyone knows you don't care. So shut up and go to sleep", he said, making sure that the pillow he threw at him was the most awful one he had within his reach. Ron spluttered as the moth eaten pillow hit him squarely in the face. Harry smiled in silent triumph but heard Ron muttering something that sounded rather like 'I don't care, don't know what they are talking about…honestly". Apparently Hermione had heard it to, for she very quickly said in her most strict of tones, "Would you just SHUT UP, Ronald?" making sure that her voice never came above a whisper. But Harry and Ron knew better than to mess with that tone, and quickly turned over in their beds.

Thoughts ran wild in Harry's mind that night before he finally drifted off to sleep. Thoughts of his ever closer return to Hogwarts filled his stomach with an air of excitement, but then the sobbing person below filled his mind. He felt guilty for not going down to check on whoever it was, he felt like he should have. But he had done the right thing not going to see who it was – would he like it if someone interrupted his crying? No, he wouldn't. Besides, he would find out who it was and whether they were okay tomorrow.

Hope tossed and turned in her sleep, her dreams haunting her, making her restless. She had cried herself to sleep, which only made her emotions worse. She continued to toss and turn, as a vision of what might have happened that night took over her dream and tuned it into a nightmare.

"Run to the drawing room. NOW!" her father shouted, not angrily but with a voice full of concern at her mother, "You need to protect yourself! He knows!"

"But I have to stay and help! I can't let you face him alone, he's too powerful!" her mother replied, the same concern filling her voice.

"And I couldn't stand it if I lost you, now GO! The drawing room! Quickly!" her father whispered hastily. Her mother looked gently into his eyes, silently begging for him to let her stay. Their silent conversation was interrupted however, by the crashing sound of a door being burst open below them.

"Please, Georgia, go!" said her father, pleading with her mother. Her mother bent low and gave her husband a swift kiss.

"I love you", she said, almost in a whisper, but Henry had heard it. She ran as quietly as she could into the drawing room on the floor above and nestled herself in a corner of the room, trying to conceal herself in the shadows, just in case. From below she could hear the muffled shouts of her husband, and the high pitched evil cackle of Lord Voldemort. She closed her eyes tightly and prayed, she didn't know who she was praying to, or what good it would do. But she needed an ounce of hope. A look of realisation spread across her face. Hope! She was at Gloria's house tonight, doing some extra work to give her a head start in the seventh year of education. What would happen to her if anything happened tonight to her and Henry? Would she have enough sense to go to her Godfather, Albus? Does Albus know what's happened? Surely not, if he did the whole of the order would be here now helping, she reasoned. She was jerked from her thoughts by a large crash coming from below.

Voldemort laughed once more. "You actually think that I care that you want to live? You know something very important, and I need to make sure that only you know it. Now, is there anyone else here that knows it?" he asked coldly, staring down through his red slits at Henry Winters. The gaze was so intense that Henry could not say anything; he was lost within the cold evil that resided within those eyes. Voldemort's icy voice sounded again "Well?" he asked, his voice sounding slightly desperate, yet still cold as ice. Henry knew why he wanted them, they knew the last secret to his downfall, and only his family knew it. He thought about Georgia upstairs, and then about Hope. Oh Hope! What would she do if something happened to him? 'Keep yourself together man!' he scolded silently, 'Georgia will look after her!', But what if Georgia didn't survive either? Henry hoped she would have the sense to go to Albus.

Another burst of that cold voice shook him from his deep thought, "WELL?" it shouted, and Voldemort slowly raised his wand to Henry's chest. Henry stared at it and then silently said, in a quiet voice.

"No". Voldemort stared at him.

"Well, Mr Winters, if you are going to lie so obviously to me and not even try to use occlumency, then you leave me no choice but to kill you. I could have simply cast a memory charm on you and your wife, who I am well aware, is upstairs in the drawing room, but you had to lie. So now, your time has come to an end, and you only have yourself to blame." Voldemort cackled loudly, before saying the words that Henry had dreaded hearing all of his life.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" A rushing sound filled the air, and a flash of green light was all anyone could see, and the last thing that Henry remembered. His body slumped lazily to the ground, and Voldemort sneered.

"The drawing room", he said in his icy voice. His death eaters stood still, and Voldemort got angry. "NOW! SHE'S IN THE DRAWING ROOM! KILL HER!" he shouted in a rage.

Georgia heard the footsteps coming up to the floor she was on. She heard the same footsteps walking across the landing and stopping outside the drawing room. She heard the handle of the door being turned, and yet still she hoped and prayed to whoever was listening that they weren't coming in there.

The death eaters entered the room, 6 of them she counted, and crossed the room to where she was crouched in the corner.

"So, Georgia, we meet again I see", said a cold and horribly familiar voice.

"It appears so, Bellatrix," she replied, trying to keep her voice nonchalant.

"You know, I've never liked you, Gee, you always were smarter than me, always prettier than me, always better than me. But now it seems the tables have turned. It seems that I am now in control over you, and you can't do a damned thing about it. Accio Wand", said the now de-hooded Bellatrix, and Georgia's wand slipped from her grasp and floated smoothly into Bellatrux's grip. Georgia sighed in defeat. She couldn't do anything to save herself now, her Hope was slipping away.

"This is your end, dearest Georgia. AVADA KEDAVRA!", that same rushing sound that Georgia had heard coming from downstairs rushed through the room, and that bright flash of green was the last thing Georgia Winters saw before her life was taken from her body. Her limp, lifeless body slumped down the wall and onto the floor, staring into nothing.

A large green skull, with a snake slithering from its mouth, was hovering above the Winters' home, waiting for a blissfully unaware Hope Winters to return the next morning.

Hope sprang upright in her bed, sweating all over. The details of her dream were slipping away, and she could not grasp onto them. She couldn't remember what she had dreamt about, but she knew that it must have been something completely terrible, to leave her in this state.

She looked nervously round her room, nobody was there to have woken her up; she must have done it of her own accord. The room was light, it must be morning. She glanced quickly at her watch, it read 6.15. Looking down at her sweating body, she sighed and decided a shower was definitely in order.

She collected a towel and her clothes, and ventured outside of her room. The house didn't look much different during the day, It was still dark and dingy, and still made her feel very unwelcome. She came to a door marked "Lavatory" and quickly slipped inside. Putting her things down on the toilet seat, she made her way over to the mirror above the sink, and looked sadly at her reflection. She didn't feel rested at all, and judging by her reflection she certainly didn't look it either. Her long deep brown hair hung dirty and un-brushed around her shoulders, her emerald eyes looked weary and tired. She sighed and turned on the shower, before undressing and stepping into the warm rainfall of water. She stood there for a moment, just letting the water cascade over her face and down her neck. She stayed in the shower for a long time, or longer than usual at any rate, perhaps she hoped the warm water would wash away her pain and loneliness, and when she emerged she would feel happy and okay again. But as she turned off the water sometime later, she knew that it simply wasn't the case. She wrapped herself in a towel, and grabbed her clothes. She decided that she would change in her room; she had spent maybe a little too much time in here. What if someone wanted to use the bathroom? She wondered if there was even anyone else in this house at the time, never mind anyone who would get up at this time. Heck, she wouldn't have got up at this time, if it weren't for that stupid dream.

Her face fell slightly. That dream. What had it been about, and why did it cause her to have such a restless time of sleep?

She silently tip-toed across the landing and opened the door to her room, slipping inside quickly, and closed the door without looking around the room, an obvious mistake.

She turned around and squealed slightly, her godfather only chuckled.

"Calm down Hope, it's only me", he said in his soothing voice that she loved.

"Uncle Albus!" she said hastily, "I'm only wearing a towel!"

Albus chucked again, "Would you rather I stayed outside while you changed, and then came back in?" he said, smiling at her.

"Yes, if you don't mind", she replied, embarrassment dripping from her words. He silently got up off the bed his way to the door and opened it, but before closing it behind him he called "Just let me know when you are ready".

Hope dressed quickly in her oversized jeans and Ramones t-shirt, before calling him back in as she tied her hair in a ponytail, not bothering to dry it just yet.

"So", she began, turning to look at her Godfather, "What brings you here?"

"Well", he said brightly, "I'm going to tell you what the plan is for today". He gestured for her to sit down on the bed beside him. "Today, I am going to let you venture off to Diagon Ally on your own, and buy all your school things for Hogwarts. I've got your Hogwarts letter downstairs, and seeing as I am Headmaster I feel no obligation in giving it to you. Now, make sure you get everything while you are there, because you will be going to Hogwarts tomorrow morning." Albus grinned at the wide grin spread across her face, and felt bad for what he was about to say, knowing that the wide grin would slide off her face like melting ice. "There is something else I need to talk to you as well. Obviously, a funeral will be needed for your parents," he said softly, sighing slightly at the sight of the grin sliding off her face, just as quickly as he thought it would have, "But I do not want you to worry Hope, I will personally take care of it. There is no need for you to worry about a thing, is that okay?"

Hope looked up at Albus, she knew her face had dropped, but the soft look in her godfather's eyes cheered her up, if only slightly. "I hadn't even thought of the funeral", she said, sighing, "but now that I think about it, it was silly not to think of it. But I trust you Uncle Albus to treat them right, I can't say I'm looking forward to it, but I know that they are in good hands." She smiled up at him, trusting him completely. "But if you don't mind Uncle, I think I'm going to do my hair and make-up before I leave today, and I think I would prefer to do it alone" she said, perhaps a little brighter than usual.

Albus gave her a sceptical look, then said, "Alright then, but remember Hope, I'm always here for you, and I will look after you and keep you safe. You can come to me about anything."

She smiled at him again; both of them knew that if Hope ever had a problem suitable enough to talk to Uncle Albus about, she would most certainly go to him. Other things however, she would have to find other people to talk to about, for she felt sure he didn't really want to hear about those.

She got up off the bed and walked towards the door, opening it for him to leave through. Albus got up and walked towards her invitation to leave. "I will call in later to make sure you got everything okay, and then tell you about the arrangements for tomorrow." He said, just before walking through door. Once over the threshold and stood in the hall however, he turned quickly and looked at her kindly, "Hope," he said, getting her attention, "Call me Albus". He winked a goodbye before striding down the hall, his long silvery mane of hair billowing with his robes, out behind him