Disclaimer: I don't own anything except the plot. Harry Potter™ is the sole intellectual property of JK Rowling, Warner Bros. and various others who all aren't connected to me in any way. No money is being made with this fanfiction and no copyright infringement is intended.


§ ¤ § Chapter Thirteen: Confessions § ¤ §

"NOOO!" Harry howled in desperation. Without even realizing what he was doing, he transformed into a wolf and raced towards KayKay, hoping that something, anything would happen, some sort of miracle . . .

But this wasn't like in his Fifth Year when their powers had first taken root and made Harry capable of moving at an extraordinary speed to shield KayKay from Voldemort's curse—the potion he'd been forced to drink made him incapable of practically any magic. He was surprised that he could even transform.

Harry reached KayKay's body just as it fell to the ground. His lupine cry died away in his throat as he transformed back to himself, just moments too late to catch her. His heart stopped in his chest as he looked down at her abandoned body, and he fell numbly to his knees, shaking his head in silent disbelief. In the back of his mind he knew that Voldemort was watching, probably feeling highly amused, but he ignored the fact.

"KayKay . . ." he whispered quietly, surprised at the tremble in his voice and the shakiness of his arms as he reached out and pulled her body closer to himself. She looked the same as ever to him, despite her colored hair and masked disguise. There was still blood on her lips—he wiped it away with the sleeve of his robe, still paralyzed with disbelief.

KayKay? Dead? Impossible. She was too stubborn, too full of life to die. She was like a beacon of all things good . . . even when she had mischief planned. She was unyielding in her determination to help others.

Even, Harry realized with a start, unto the point of her own death. She alone had the courage to destroy her last chance of survival in order to stop Harry and save people that she probably didn't even know . . .

The numbness drained away from Harry to be replaced by remorse stronger than he'd ever felt. Tears prickled his eyes as he pulled KayKay's body closer, hugging her to his chest as he cradled her head with his trembling hand.

"I'm sorry . . ." he whispered hoarsely, his vision beginning to blur. "I'm so sorry . . ."

And then his voice caught in his throat and the tears that he'd held at bay through shock alone began to fall, dropping silently onto KayKay's face.

"I'm so sorry," he repeated, choking back a sob as all of his guilt poured out of him.

I'm so sorry . . . for not trying to save you while I could, for not just taking the antidote from Voldemort, for pulling you away from the crowd at the ball, for not waiting until later to tell you how I felt, for not telling you sooner, for being so cruel last year, for ever dragging you into this whole mess . . .

Voldemort was watching—laughing—but it was distant to Harry.

I'm sorry that this ever had to happen to you, I'm sorry for those last moments that you had to face . . .

He'd seen them, too—the last moments of KayKay's life the way she knew them. A blur of images had raced through his mind—and they were surely hers, for he didn't recognize more than half of them.

"Free," he whispered quietly to her, his face bent low over hers as he wept bitterly. "You said you'd be free."

And her words echoed as plainly in his mind as if she were right there, speaking them. "Only when we die, or know we'll die, will we be free."

Some detached part of Harry's senses noted that Voldemort had stopped laughing with amusement at Harry's plight and was now approaching with measured steps. But something else distracted him—something that was stated in wolf growls and yips, but still amazingly clear to Harry. They floated through his mind in the same manner as his telepathy conversations with KayKay had.

.: I am free. :.

Harry blinked away tears and looked over KayKay's body quickly—no, she was still cold and silent. Dead.

.: I am free. :. the wolf voice repeated, something about it clearly belonging to her.

The rest of Harry became suddenly aware of Voldemort's footsteps. He almost turned around when the wolf's next words stopped him.

.: And now, you will be free, too. :.

Before he could even ponder the meaning of the statement, he was filled with the sensation of dancing sparks of electricity and a blue glow seemed to emanate from him in the places that he was clutching KayKay's body.

He disappeared.

¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤

"Harry!" somebody gasped. Somebody familiar. Somebody female.

"Madison, please inform Mister Weasley and Miss Granger that Harry is back, then fetch Madame Pomfrey." This was Dumbledore's voice, concerned and efficient. "I must go speak with Sirius. Brian, please stay here."

"Yes, Headmaster."

Harry never looked up. He was still on his knees, but KayKay's body was gone—he was clutching thin air. He lowered his hands and dug them into the plush rug that carpeted the stone floor of Dumbledore's office.

He saw the hem of Madison's scarlet dress robes swish past and felt her hand touch his shoulder briefly in a way that was meant to be encouraging as she passed by. She was followed shortly by Dumbledore, his violet robes dragging slightly on the floor.

The door clicked shut quietly behind the pair as another tear fell from Harry's eyes and hit his hand. He clenched fistfuls of the rug and squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to ward off any more tears. Brian remained mercifully silent.

The stillness was abruptly shattered as green flames shot up in the fireplace and somebody stumbled out. Harry looked up out of sheer shock, but quickly looked away at the sight of Matt.

"Harry! Are you two all right? What happened? Dumbledore said—" he broke off suddenly, and Harry looked back up at him. Matt was breathing heavily, and looking around the office with a detached sense of disbelief.

"Where's KayKay?" he asked quietly. Then, without waiting for an answer, he repeated, "Where's KayKay?" this time with a bit more urgency.

Harry looked back down at his hands. He tried to speak, but he only managed to make a small, strangled noise deep in his throat.

"What happened? Where is she? Is she in the Hospital Wing? Is she hurt?" Matt asked quickly. Harry shook his head—just once, left and right, a tiny movement—and managed to croak, "Gone."

"What?" Matt and Brian spoke simultaneously.

"She's gone," Harry rasped. "Voldemort—"

He stopped, not wanting to say more, but Matt understood anyhow.

"He . . .?" Matt prompted, obviously unwilling to elaborate further. Harry nodded and clenched the rug once more. Matt sat down hard in a chair, his hands folded together and his head hanging. Brian appeared altogether unable to comprehend the idea.

Harry turned his face away from the others clenched his eyes shut once more. His eyes watered, but no teardrops fell this time. The three of them remained silent—for how long, Harry had no idea—until Matt spoke up suddenly.

"How could you?" he asked slowly.

Harry looked up and Brian glanced over at Matt sharply. "What?" Brian asked. Matt ignored him and fixed his eyes on Harry's.

"How could you? How could you just watch Voldemort kill her and not even do anything about it? Why should she die and you go free?" he demanded.

Harry was on his feet without even realizing it. "You don't even know what happened!"

"How is it that you were able to get away and she wasn't?" Matt demanded, springing to his feet as well. "Why is it that you didn't take her with you? How do you manage to scrape out of every confrontation you've had with Voldemort, but you weren't even able to help KayKay?"

"Do you think I didn't try?" Harry exclaimed angrily. "Do you think I didn't wish it was me instead of her? Do you think that I wouldn't die for her?"

"Oh yes, we all know," Matt drawled sarcastically. "The great Harry Potter would never harm KayKay, would never do anything to hurt her. You tore her apart!"

"I've paid for my mistakes, unlike you!"

"Unlike me? I've been there for her in times that you've abandoned her! And I would have done a hell of a lot more than you probably did to protect her!" Matt spat.

"You've been there for her?" Harry scoffed. "I suppose that explains this afternoon, then, doesn't it?"

"I would have done something to save her. Anything! I doubt that you can make the same claim."

"I would!"

"Then why didn't you?" Matt demanded. Harry faltered for a moment, and Matt saw it. "There was something, wasn't there? Stop pretending that you were helpless and admit it!"

Harry seized a fistful of Matt's shirt. "I would have done anything for her," he hissed.

Brian, who'd been watching the exchange with confusion suddenly jumped in, using the tone he normally reserved for the classroom as he placed an authoritative hand on Matt's shoulder. "Boys, this isn't anybody's fault but Voldemort's. Please, calm down and—"

Matt shoved the hand away with disgust. "You may not have cared about her—"

"Don't you dare tell me I don't care about her!" Brian demanded, very much the teenage boy again as he grabbed Matt by the arm and yanked him away from Harry.

Both Harry and Matt were stunned into silence. They both looked at each other, suddenly on the same team again, then they looked back at Brian.

"You loved her!" Matt accused. Brian seemed shocked at such an idea and opened his mouth to reply, but seemed to suddenly change his mind, opting instead to look the other direction.

Matt shook Brian's hand off of his arm and resumed his dejected position in his chair. Brian appeared to be fascinated with the falling snow outside. Harry sat down in an unclaimed chair and did his best to keep his mind void of his last image of KayKay—Silent. Still. Cold.

The door to the office opened only a second later, and all three boys looked over to see who it was. Madison blinked back at them, still bedecked in her costume and mask, before coming in and turning to close the door behind her.

Matt and Brian went back to their original positions; Harry watched Madison in a downcast way as she crossed the room and took the chair right next to him. The four teenagers sat that way in silence for several tense minutes until Madison broke the silence.

"She's—" Madison paused, and Harry looked over to meet her gaze. "She's not . . . coming back—is she?"

He closed his eyes and shook his head slowly. Madison took a small, sharp breath, but remained silent. It wasn't until a fell thirty seconds had passed and something small and wet hit Harry's hand that he glanced back at her.

She was crying—for all Harry could remember, she'd never cried before. Tears rolled out from behind her mask and streaked down her face, leaving thin wet trails before falling. Just watching her made Harry's vision blur again as he held his own tears in check. He fumbled for Madison's hand and squeezed it gently as a single tear escaped him.

Brian crossed the room and placed a reassuring hand on Madison's shoulder. Matt, finally becoming aware of the unfolding sorrow, produced a tissue from one of his pockets and handed it to her. She held it loosely, almost as if she had no idea what it was for.

Harry finally took it from her and used it to wipe stray tears from her face. Madison looked over at him in what could only be described as surprise before unexpectedly reaching out and hugging him.

"Oh, Harry," she whispered between tears as she buried her face in his shoulder, "I'm so sorry. I know how much she meant to you . . ."

Harry closed his eyes again and hugged her back. "She meant a lot to all of us," he replied quietly.

"She—she was my first real friend," Madison confessed. "No one else ever cared about me, the person—"

At this moment, the door opened yet again.

"Harry? Thank Merlin you're alright! We should have expected something like this to happen, after those attacks in Hogsmeade . . ." Madison let go of Harry, standing up and removing her mask to wipe her face using her sleeve. Sirius took the now empty seat and put his hands firmly on Harry's shoulders, studying his godson's face.

"What happened? What did he do to you?" Sirius asked anxiously. His gaze swept the room quickly. "Where's KayKay?"

His query was greeted with resounding silence until Brian finally spoke up.

"She's . . . gone," he said softly, unintentionally using the same words that Harry had not long before. Sirius sighed silently, his shoulders falling with the action, and then he pulled Harry into a paternal embrace. Harry, for his part, still felt somewhat lost throughout all the proceedings, and it was almost a relief when Dumbledore finally entered the room.

"Mister Siempre, I'm afraid that I must ask you to leave the room. If you wish to remain at Hogwarts, you may wait in the hospital wing along with Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley," he said as he circled behind his stately desk.

Matt nodded and left without a word and without making eye contact with Harry. Sirius stood back up and offered Madison her chair back. But something was tugging at Harry's mind . . . something important, he knew it was important . . .

"Inform Malfoy that he has my leave to lead the next purge . . ."

The Weasleys!

"Professor!" he exclaimed, standing up so suddenly that Madison jumped. "Voldemort said—the Weasleys are in danger, the Death Eaters—"

"Please, Harry, sit down," Dumbledore said calmly. Harry almost protested, but Dumbledore raised his hand to silence him. Sighing in resignation, Harry took his seat once again. If Dumbledore wasn't worried—well, he'd trust the Headmaster.

"Aurors are already in Ottery St. Catchpole after being alerted to the presence of Death Eaters. All members of the Weasley family are either right here, at Hogwarts, or safely located someplace else. According to current Auror reports, the situation is under control, mostly due to Voldemort's lack of presence during the attack."

Harry nodded distractedly as he silently sighed in relief. If Aurors hadn't already been taking care of it, who knew what kind of damage would've been done in the time it took for Harry to tell Dumbledore? KayKay would've remembered . . . KayKay would've remembered right away . . .

"Harry?" Dumbledore asked softly. Harry looked up at the Headmaster, who then said, "It seems that we find ourselves in a familiar place . . . and if you would, I need to know what has happened."

Harry glanced over at Brian, and then at Madison, who—despite having tears still shining in her eyes—gave him a reassuring smile and put her hand comfortingly on his shoulder.

"Ah," said Dumbledore understandingly, "no doubt you are wondering at Professor Kingstaff and Miss Jacobs' presence. They were the last people to see you and KayKay before your disappearance."

"We—" Madison faltered, then cleared her throat and continued in a less shaky voice. "We can leave, if you'd prefer to be alone with Sirius and Professor Dumbledore," she told Harry quietly.

Harry simply shook his head. "You can stay," he croaked.

Dumbledore leaned forward. "Harry? Are you ready?"

He nodded, then haltingly relived what had happened after he and KayKay had disappeared.

¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, strangling him in a hug the moment he stepped into the Hospital Wing, "we were so worried!"

"You've got to stop doing this, mate. Every time you decide to run off and have a row with You-Know-Who, Hermione here nearly dies of a heart attack." Ron sounded like he was joking, but one look at his face betrayed the fact that he, too, was greatly relieved.

"Harry . . ." Hermione said slowly in realization, finally releasing him from her grip, "where's KayKay?"

Harry looked away. He couldn't bring himself to say it again . . . he'd already had to talk about it too many times.

"I can explain if you'd like me to," Madison said hoarsely.

"No, Madison," Brian said gently. "You just sit down and stay here with Harry. I'll talk with Hermione and Ron out in the corridor."

Ron and Hermione glanced over at Harry, who gave them a small nod. They looked back at him as they hesitantly followed Brian into the hallway.

Harry sighed yet again as the doors swung shut behind them and sat down on the edge of the nearest bed. Madison abruptly sat down in the chair beside it with a small thump. Neither of them spoke—even if they had felt up to talking, they wouldn't have had a chance, for Madame Pomfrey hurried over at that moment.

She went through her normal fussing and comments about reckless behavior, dreadful security and an inept Ministry. To Harry, her rambling seemed like fuzzy, detached background noise as haunting images replayed in his mind. He wasn't really aware of her as the poked him in the ribs, checking for broken bones. As it was, it took Madison to make him realize that he was being asked a question.

"Harry," she called quietly, shaking his shoulder gently. "Harry!"

"What?" he asked, slightly surprised as the Hospital wing "sprung up" around him.

Madame Pomfrey repeated, "Did you receive any specific injuries? Were you given anything?"

"No, I don't—wait—they gave me a potion," Harry said slowly, having trouble getting through his own memories.

"A potion!" she exclaimed. By her reaction, it would seem that this was a matter of dire emergency—which, on reflection, Harry realized that it probably was. "What kind of potion?"

"Something to make me—make me lose my powers. Vold—er, You-Know-Who—invented it . . ."

He felt vaguely calm about it all. Madame Pomfrey, on the other hand, nearly ran from the room, taking only enough time to point at Harry and command, "You stay right there!"

The double-doors swung silently shut behind her just before opening again to admit Ron, Hermione, and Brian. Ron appeared to be in a state of shock; Hermione was crying.

"Harry," she gasped. "I—we—we're so sorry . . ." her voice caught in her throat and Ron immediately put his arm around her shoulders.

"Where was Madame Pomfrey running off to?" Brian asked Madison quietly.

"I don't know . . . to find Dumbledore, I expect. She just found out about the . . . potion."

"Ah," he said knowingly.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione said, sitting down on the edge of the bed beside him. "I know this must be so terrible for you . . . you were such close . . . er—"

"Friends," Ron supplied quietly.

"Such close friends," Hermione continued. "And . . .and I know she was very special to you . . ."

"We're here for you, Harry," Ron said, clapping Harry on the shoulder.

"Now . . . Harry," Hermione said hesitantly, "you—you mustn't start blaming yourself. I know that for the longest time, you felt horrible about Cedric Diggory, and that wasn't your fault either . . ."

"Never," Ron added quickly.

"Right," Hermione nodded. "And we all know that you would've—would've done anything for her—"

"You guys—just stop!" Harry said, suddenly finding his voice and speaking up for the first time. "Just stop. I—I don't want to talk about it anymore just now, okay?" He looked away, focusing his attention on the floor instead of on his friends. He could feel their stunned silence, the uncomfortable state of quiet that had fallen over the room.

As if on cue, Dumbledore entered the Hospital Wing, Madame Pomfrey on his heels. Sirius followed several feet behind them.

"You should have sent him to me straight away!" she was saying peevishly. "Things like this need to be treated immediately, before permanent repercussions occur!"

"Poppy," Dumbledore said, raising a hand to silence her, "I am sure that Harry is fine and that the effects of the potion were merely temporary."

Hermione and Ron exchanged confused and worried looks, but said nothing.

"How can you say so with such certainty, Albus?" Madame Pomfrey replied, starting to examine Harry in the exact same manner as she already had, as if she expected him to have suddenly sprouted strange new symptoms.

"I am able to tell," Dumbledore said calmly. "However, if you wish for proof, let us ask Harry himself. Harry," the Headmaster said, peering at him over the top of his half-moon glasses, "would you care to perform some sort of spell for us?"

"I—I don't have my wand, Professor," Harry said, just realizing this new fact for himself.

"Is that so?" Dumbledore asked with surprise. He added, in a quieter tone, "Then I would suggest checking your pockets, Harry."

Harry, although certain that such a search would be futile, obliged and reached a hand into the inside pocket of his silver dress robes. He was conveniently taken aback as his fingers connected with wood.

"Er . . . I . . ." He said uncertainly, pulling it out. It was indeed his—even before he'd seen it, he could tell by touch that it was his.

"A simple charm will do, Harry," Dumbledore said kindly.

"Um . . . Wingardium Leviosa!" he said, pointing his wand at the pillow on a nearby bed. It rose several feet into the air before plopping back down gently as Harry lowered his wand.

"You see, Poppy, no harm done."

Madame Pomfrey snorted, as if Harry's current condition was far from "no harm done."

"Well, no lasting harm, then." Dumbledore corrected himself. "Ron, Hermione . . . will the two of you be alright?"

Ron nodded silently, and Hermione sniffed and said, "I think so."

"Then, perhaps it would be best if the two of you returned to Gryffindor Tower," he said gently.

They both nodded, and Hermione reached out and hugged Harry, whispering, "I'm sorry," before backing away. Ron clapped Harry softly on the shoulder and said quietly, "Sorry, mate. But we're still here for you, got it?"

Harry nodded, and they both turned and left the Hospital Wing, though not without looking back at him several times before finally passing through the doors.

"Madison? How are you feeling?" This question came, not from Dumbledore, but from Sirius.

"I—okay . . . I think," she said thickly, wiping here eyes on the sleeve of her dress robes.

"Perhaps it would be best if you were to spend a night in here as well. I daresay a Dreamless Sleep Potion is in order, after you heard firsthand all the details of what has happened," Dumbledore said, nodding pointedly to Madame Pomfrey, who took his hint and hurried back to her office.

Harry looked quizzically at Brian. If he had told Ron and Hermione what had happened, why weren't they staying as well?

As if sensing what Harry was thinking, Brian said quietly, "I didn't tell Ron and Hermione everything—I wasn't sure how much you wanted me to say. And I—" he paused, checking to make sure that Madame Pomfrey was still rummaging in her office, "I didn't tell them about the . . . the antidote."

Harry wasn't sure if this news made him glad, specifically, but it didn't disappoint him in the least. The thought still haunted him that he should've done something, anything . . .

"Here we are," Madame Pomfrey said, carrying two goblets over to their tightly knit cluster. "Here, Jacobs, you can take this bed . . ." she said, indicating the cot right next to Harry. Madison nodded, and Madame Pomfrey gave them both a stern look.

"I want both of you sleeping," she said, "not chatting until all hours of the night. Understood?"

Harry and Madison nodded, and Madame Pomfrey swept away without another word.

"Well, I suppose that is our signal that we are to leave," Dumbledore said to Sirius. He nodded in agreement, then stepped over and pulled Harry into a tight hug.

"It's okay to feel bad about what happened," he whispered into his godson's ear. "But not about the choices that the two of you made tonight. I know how hard it is . . . but imagine how she would've felt if she was here and you were back there."

Somehow, coming from Sirius, the words of consolation were more sincere and practical than they were when his friends spoke them.

"Thanks," he said quietly as Sirius released him.

"Goodnight," Dumbledore said, nodding to Harry and Madison. "Sirius?"

"Professor," Harry said quickly, before he could leave, "May I have a word?"

Dumbledore didn't look surprised in the least. "Certainly, Harry."

"It's just . . . how do you know that my powers are actually back? Voldemort didn't take my normal powers—he took the power that KayKay and I shared."

He'd been meaning to ask Dumbledore this earlier, but Madame Pomfrey had been nearby. They'd already had to shortly explain Harry and KayKay's powers to Brain back when Harry was telling Dumbledore what had happened (Madison had already been told by KayKay).

"I—that explains quite a bit," Brian had said. He'd then proceeded to explain himself by telling them about one morning when he'd run into KayKay at the Hospital Wing. "She'd said that she'd broken a few ribs while dueling with Harry . . . it seemed odd to me at the time that they would've made a clumsy mistake."

"Think for yourself," Dumbledore said. "You remember, I'm sure, how it had felt when your powers had seeped away?"—Harry nodded—"Do you still feel that way?"

Harry had to think a moment before shaking his head. "But Professor—I doubt that Voldemort would've made a temporary potion—how could they have come back?"

"How did you get back here? How did your wand reappear in your pocket?" Dumbledore countered, raising an eyebrow. Harry paused.

"Sir . . . do you mean that KayKay . . .?"

"I don't mean anything, Harry. Nobody really knows the details of the second great adventure, except for those who are in no condition to tell us. All we can do is speculate, and take comfort from the fact that the people we say farewell to never truly leave us."

And with these philosophic words, Dumbledore left. Brian stood, looking uncomfortable.

"Well . . . goodnight. If you need me, I . . . well, you know where to find me if you do." He left as well, following in Dumbledore and Sirius' wake.

Madison sighed softly, moving from her chair to her assigned cot. "Do you think it's true?"

"What?" Harry asked, looking over at her in surprise.

"That—that the people we love are never really gone?" she asked timidly. Harry sighed and rubbed his scar absentmindedly.

"I hope so," he said finally.

¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤

Nobody celebrated that Christmas. None of them even exchanged or opened gifts.

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Madison—Dumbledore had given his permission for her to spend the rest of the school break in Gryffindor Tower—sat glumly in the Common Room. Every once and a while, one of them would try to start a conversation, but it would fall flat and the group would lapse into silence again.

Eventually, Ron and Hermione played a halfhearted game of Wizard's Chess. When Ron won, they simply rearranged their pieces and started a new game. Harry watched them from the couch without really seeing or comprehending their actions. Madison, who was curled up on the other end of the couch, had a book open on her lap, but she wasn't perusing it. She instead stared into the fireplace, reminding Harry eerily of his late-night conversations with KayKay in which she'd do the same.

Even Fred and George's prank mistletoe was subdued. It had returned to it's decorated box of it's own accord, and hadn't uttered a single comment the whole time that the four friends were there.

"Harry Potter, sir!" a small voice squeaked suddenly, at about half past six that evening. Harry shook himself out of his reverie, surprised to see that it was dark outside. He looked around to find the source of the voice.

It was Dobby.

"Oh—Dobby, what are you doing here?" Harry asked, taken slightly aback. His voice sounded strange to his own ears.

"Harry Potter and his friends did not come down for lunch," he said, as if this much was obvious. "When Harry Potter did not come down for dinner, Dobby and Winky decided to bring dinner to Harry Potter."

And indeed, Winky, whom Harry hadn't seen initially, was standing behind Dobby, carrying a large platter over her head.

"Oh . . . er . . . thanks, Dobby," Harry said awkwardly as Winky set the food-laden platter down on one of the tables. "You too, Winky."

"It is Dobby's pleasure, Harry Potter, sir." Dobby said, his large eyes wide. "Dobby heard about Harry Potter's friend," he added, more quietly.

Harry didn't know what to say to this, so he simply nodded. This must've been all that Dobby had intended to say on the subject, for the next thing Harry knew, Dobby was leaving.

"Dobby is always in the Kitchens if Harry Potter needs him, sir," he said, and he and Winky disappeared with a loud crack.

There was a long, silence, then Hermione finally said, "Well . . . I suppose we should probably eat something." She then proceeded to put food onto each of the four plates provided to them. Ron took his without argument, but didn't eat with nearly as much relish as he normally did.

Harry looked blankly at the plate that Hermione put into his hand. On it was a wide assortment of all his favorite holiday foods, but for some reason they seemed about as appetizing to him as Hagrid's rock cakes.

"I'm not hungry," Madison said stubbornly. Harry looked over at her. Hermione was trying to get her to accept one of the plates.

"Hermione, I don't want anything. Just leave me alone!" she snapped.

"You have to eat something!" Hermione argued, albeit in a softer tone than Madison was using.

"No. I told you already, I'm not hungry."

"Starving yourself won't bring her back!" Hermione exclaimed, sounding quite exasperated indeed.

"I know that—I just don't feel like eating, alright?"

"Madison—"

"No!" Madison shouted, interrupting whatever it was that Hermione had been trying to say. She quite abruptly got to her feet and stormed away, stomping up the steps to the Girl's Dormitory.

Hermione watched after her, looking dazed and uncertain of what had just happened. Harry quietly set aside his plate. He wouldn't admit it to Hermione, but he felt quite the same as Madison.

"Sit down," he told Hermione gently. "I'll go talk to her."

He walked up the staircase slowly, pushing open the door at the top. It swung open, the un-oiled hinges emitting a small squeak.

Madison was sitting on KayKay's bed next to Casey, gently stroking her golden fur. Both of them looked over at Harry as he entered and sat on the bed opposite them.

"Poor Casey," Madison said as conversationally as if none of the argument downstairs had transpired. "She knows—I can tell that she knows—but she can't understand why."

But Harry thought, as he looked at the glum dog and preoccupied teenage girl, that it wasn't actually Casey to whom Madison was referring.

¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤

The memorial service held for KayKay was a small one. Only a small amount of people attended. As there was no body to bury, the entire thing took place in the Great Hall, which had undergone minor changes for the sad event.

Gone were the house tables—they were replaced by a few rows of chairs. The walls were draped in black, and there was a picture of KayKay hovering along with some candles up near the front, where a small podium had been raised in place of the Head Table.

All of the teachers that had remained at Hogwarts over the holiday were in attendance, excluding Snape—Harry was sure that Snape didn't care either way, and that KayKay probably didn't care either . . . if she even knew.

The entire Weasley family came, Molly dabbing at the corners of her eyes with a handkerchief every now and then. Harry wasn't quite sure how well KayKay knew the elder members of the Weasley family. It occurred to him that they must have met at some point, but when and for how long, he had no idea.

Most of the students that had helped in Hogsmeade came, and a few Gryffindors from their year came back as well. Also scattered among them were Francisca and the elderly Mr. Archer, from Hogsmeade Village.

The most tragic pair of guests was Megan and Chad. They'd been planning to visit KayKay during holiday break to exchange gifts—it would have been their first time to see her since her birthday half a year prior—and instead they were coming to a memorial service for her.

Naturally, Sirius, Matt, Ron, Hermione, Madison and Harry were there. Oddly, Brian sat with them rather than with the rest of the professors. Dumbledore was the first to stand at the podium and speak.

"KayKay was a bright witch who can be most highly commended for her heart. Her heart was always in the right place—even if she did have a slight knack for trouble. In her brief time at Hogwarts—too brief, I fear—she touched many lives," he said, looking at KayKay's picture.

"She was a good friend to people that other students might not have given a chance," he continued, now looking back at those who were seated. "She was the first student to volunteer to help after Hogsmeade Village was destroyed by Voldemort and his followers. Despite having a difficult and crippling life, one that showed her much sorrow, KayKay took that pain and turned it into a love that she could give to others."

Dumbledore sighed softly, glancing at the picture once more. His final words almost seemed to be spoken to himself. "If we could all follow the example of this young woman who impacted so many lives in her short time on earth, this would be a much better place, indeed."

He bowed his head and stepped down, taking his seat once more. There was a slight pause during which no one moved; then, Madison stood up bravely and walked to the front.

"KayKay was my cousin," she stated, without preamble, "though neither of us knew it until about a year after we'd met.

"I am ashamed now when I think about the way I was back then. I acted like a snooty Pureblood in the worst possible way, rarely letting a chance to insult her pass me by. But then—under that strangest of circumstances—" her gaze flickered towards Harry, "we became friends more quickly than I thought possible. And it was all because I'd seen how honest she was, and I decided to do the same once."

Madison swallowed visibly, then continued. "She was the first true friend I ever had. She was the first person who liked me for me . . . Through her kindness, I've changed. I'm a better person now than I ever was—" she halted abruptly, took a shaky breath, then finished, "and hopefully I can show her the gratitude that I never expressed to her when I had the chance by continuing to change for the better."

She hurried back to her seat, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand as she did so. Harry was so busy rummaging in his pockets for a tissue for her that he didn't even notice when Sirius stood up and walked to the front.

"KayKay"—Harry looked up in surprise—"was a girl brimming with life. I met her when she was fifteen as my Godson's friend, and I've known her very well since. Last winter, she moved in with her uncle in the home next door to Harry's and mine. Every time I saw her, she radiated a joy and enthusiasm about life that I've rarely seen in anybody—let alone a teenage girl who had so many hardships in her life.

"KayKay could find a bright side to almost anything, and she loved nothing more than having plain old fun. Whether it was a pillow fight, a messy competition with her friends, or simply teaching this hopeless case," Sirius indicated himself, "how to cook, she always did so with smiles and laughter. She could bring light to any gray or cloudy day."

He glanced over at the portrait of KayKay and actually smiled. "It's that kind of light that we all need. That kind of life and spirit can't die along with her—merely be relocated. I, for one, will try to keep shining that light in her honor."

Sirius bowed his head and stepped down from the podium. There was a long moment of stillness and silence, save for the sound of a few people crying. After several seconds went by and nobody stood up, Hermione leaned across Madison and whispered to Harry, "Aren't you going up?"

Her voice snapped Harry back to the real world—so far he'd been watching people speak as if in a dream or viewing a movie. He looked up at the empty podium, then at KayKay's picture. He bit his lip and shook his head silently. He couldn't explain it—didn't want to explain it—but he couldn't get up and talk about KayKay. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

Hermione looked surprised to say the least.

"What? Why? I thought that—"

"Hey, he doesn't have to if he doesn't want to, Hermione!" Madison hissed. She then looked Harry in the eye and whispered, more gently, "KayKay would understand."

"I was talking to Harry, not you, Madison," Hermione whispered, sounding slightly annoyed. The two girls had been at odds for several days now.

"Well, I don't see you going up there!" Madison hissed, more angrily this time. Before Hermione could respond, someone spoke up from the front and the two girls sprang back to their original positions, looking raptly at the speaker as if they'd never spoken to each other in the first place.

Harry looked up, then blinked. It was Brian.

"KayKay is . . ." he paused, then took a deep breath. "She is a wonderful friend.

"In my years at Hogwarts as a student and now a teacher, I've noticed it. She overlooks transgressions that most people would be unable to forgive. She sees the good in many people and forges friendships with them, undaunted by ridicule she may be subjected to in return."

Brian looked down at the podium as if looking for comfort from the polished oak. He gripped the edges tightly, his knuckles white, and looked back up quite suddenly.

"Even me." He sounded almost surprised to admit it. "We met towards the end of my Seventh Year, but we became close in the fall. Her kindness has helped me through the awkward transition from being a student to teaching my former peers.

"As I began to adjust, I realized what other students, even other teachers must think of our friendship. I told her straight out what others might perceive of us and urged her, for the sake of her own image, to forget about me. She refused point-blank."

Brian wasn't making eye contact with any of the teachers. Harry could understand why—it obviously wasn't easy to say what he was saying, especially in front of a group of people, some of which he didn't even know.

"KayKay never forgets her friends," Brain said slowly, his voice shaking slightly. "And we—we can never forget her."

With this he walked back to his seat and sat down slowly. Madison was watching him quizzically, but she smiled reassuringly at Harry when she noticed that he was watching her.

"What—" he began to ask her, but she simply shook her head and mouthed the word, "Later."

Harry looked down the row of chairs at Brian, who now had his eyes closed and was holding a fist to his mouth, as if he was concentrating deeply on something. Harry then glanced back at Madison, remembering what she'd said to him a few minutes earlier.

KayKay would understand.

Her eyes had told the truth—and Harry was startled to realize that he knew it was true. KayKay understood more about him and what he'd say than he could say . . . yes, yes, KayKay would understand . . . and that was why he had to say it.

Harry stood up without even realizing that he was doing it and made his way to the front of the Great Hall.

He paused at KayKay's picture, then mounted the steps and took his place behind the podium. He cleared his throat unnecessarily and looked at the rows of people without really seeing them.

"KayKay was—and is—a lot of things to a lot of people," Harry began. He felt detached from his own self, as if he wasn't really speaking but that instead he was listening as someone else inside of him rose up and addressed the room.

"I didn't plan on speaking this afternoon," he confessed, "I didn't think that I had it in me. I still don't think that I do. But someone told me not to feel bad about it—that KayKay would understand. And . . . well . . . she was right.

"KayKay would know anything that I needed to say before I even had to say it—she was interesting that way. I've never met anyone who was more likely to know something about me thatI didn't realize myself." Harry paused. "And that's . . . that's why I decided that I had to speak. Not for her memory, but for our memories of her."

Did that even make sense? Somewhere in the recesses of Harry's mind, it did . . . it would have to do, then.

"KayKay was ready. I don't know what for, but I know that she was ready. She was always determined to give anything and everything she could to this world. She's everything that everyone has said this afternoon." Harry indicated the Headmaster, "She had a wonderful heart." He then nodded towards Madison, "She was honest and looked at the good in people. She gave second chances to people who maybe didn't deserve them." He paused, then added, "Like me.

He shook his head slightly, clearing away the fog of reflection that had begun to settle around it, and indicated Sirius. "She was full of life; she had a passion for life. She lived every day the way she wanted to live it, not the way society told her to. Whether this meant that she walked backwards down the halls or ate cold pizza and cookies for breakfast, she had fun being herself.

"And—and what is probably the most important thing of all—she was a wonderful friend. She was a better friend than I know I deserved. She—"

A chair suddenly scraped against the floor, and everyone in the hall looked over at Matt, who'd just gotten to his feet.

Harry blinked in surprise at the look that Matt gave him—it wasn't one of anger, spite, or loathinglike he'd given him in Dumbledore's office. It was unreadable, and barely a moment later, Matt turned and simply left the Great Hall.

There was a stretch of uncomfortable silence, finally broken by Harry.

"I—I mean, she—KayKay forgave me when I didn't deserve forgiving, and her mercy made me a better friend to others. That, I think, is the epitome of who KayKay was: she was a person whose light could inspire anything it touched and make it even better. Even though she knew volumes about everyone else, I don't think she knew that about herself. So—" Harry's voice caught in his throat and he suddenly found himself blinking to clear a faint mistiness from his eyes, "So wherever she is now, I hope she can realize—and I hope we all can realize—just how much she's touched each and every one of us."

Harry swallowed hard and took his glasses off, savagely wiping his eyes before a tear could fall. The first person he saw when he put them back on was Dumbledore, who nodded at him and motioned for him to stay where he was as he came up to join him.

"Very well said, Harry," Dumbledore said, quietly enough so no one else could hear. "Very well said." He waved his wand, and a goblet appeared at everyone's elbow.

"Harry, would you please?" Dumbledore said, a bit more loudly now. Harry nodded, then raised his glass.

"To KayKay Determan," he said loudly, aware that his voice was shaking.

"To KayKay Determan," everyone else chorused, raising their goblets and drinking to her. The wine was bitter in Harry's mouth and he squeezed his eyes shut tightly against the roaring inside of him that told him that this was really it. She was truly—truly—gone.

He set his goblet down with a small thump that was inaudible over the sound of many people murmuring to one another or making their way out of the Great Hall. Harry hoped he could make it out without being spoken to; he doubted he could speak another word and maintain his composure at this moment.

By slipping around and walking along the wall, he managed to avoid everyone in the Great Hall. It was only once he'd gone out to the hallway and was about to mount the staircase that somebody called after him.

"Harry!"

It was one of the last people he'd expected. Matt was hurrying over to him with that same, strange expression on his face.

"Harry, I—I just—" he sighed and raked his fingers through his hair. "Listen, I'm sorry about what happened up in Dumbledore's office. I know that you wouldn't have just forsaken her, really, I do, I just . . . I wanted to be able to blame someone, make someone feel bad instead of me."

Harry blinked. "Instead of you?" he echoed.

"Yeah, I . . . I couldn't stop thinking about the fact that the last time I spoke to her ever was when we were fighting and I was accusing her of . . . well, of being something she's not," he finished quietly, not meeting Harry's eyes. "I know you liked her—"

"I don't—"

"I know that you liked her," Matt spoke over Harry, holding up a hand to silence him. There was no anger in his eyes. "So I tried to convince myself that it was somehow your fault so that I wouldn't feel guilty about our fight, but really I know that it wasn't. Like Brian said—it was Voldemort's fault, not anybody else's."

He shoved his hands into his pockets, looking uncomfortable, and they both stood like that in silence for a moment or two.

"So . . . why are you telling me all of this?" Harry asked finally. Matt looked up in surprise.

"Well—I—like I said, I wanted to apologize. Even if I hadn't already known that it wasn't your fault, anyone who listened to you up there could have been able to tell that you were willing to do anything for her."

Harry nodded silently, looking at the floor and trying to hide his surprise at this sudden confession.

"Well, I—I'd better get going," Matt said suddenly.

"Right," Harry said quickly. "Er . . . goodbye."

"Goodbye," Matt replied. He'd already gone a few steps when he turned back. "Harry?"

"Yeah?" Harry replied, pausing with his foot on the first step of the staircase.

"I do still mean what I said last summer—you know, about you guys all being my friends? So if you guys ever want to meet up at Hogsmeade or something . . . you know . . . just—let me know if you're free sometime, okay?" He turned and left quickly, pulling his cloak around him before stepping outside into the snow.

Free. The word echoed in Harry's head.

Free, it said, almost tauntingly.

Harry shook his head at nothing and went quickly up the stairs, the bitterness from the wine still lingering in his mouth, mingling with that word.

§ ¤ § ¤ § ¤ § ¤ § ¤ § ¤ § ¤ § ¤ §

I will remember you
Will you remember me?
Don't let your life pass you by
Weep not for the memories

Remember the good times that we had?
I let them slip away from us when things got bad
How clearly I first saw you smilin' in the sun
Wanna' feel your warmth upon me, I wanna' be the one

I will remember you
Will you remember me?
Don't let your life pass you by
Weep not for the memories

I'm so tired but I can't sleep
Standin' on the edge of something much too deep
It's funny how we feel so much but we cannot say a word
We are screaming inside, but we can't be heard

But I will remember you
Will you remember me?
Don't let your life pass you by
Weep not for the memories

I'm so afraid to love you, but more afraid to lose
Clinging to a past that doesn't let me choose
Once there was a darkness, deep and endless night
You gave me everything you had, oh you gave me light

And I will remember you
Will you remember me?
Don't let your life pass you by
Weep not for the memories

And I will remember you
Will you remember me?
Don't let your life pass you by
Weep not for the memories
Weep not for the memories


Look at me, I'm totally behind schedule! (I wanted to have this ficcy finished by now . . . ¤ sighs ¤

Oh well, I suppose. I'm worried about heading into Senior Year with this thing, though . . . eep! I'm so OLD!

¤ ahem ¤ So, anyhow . . . very sad chapter, yes, but so necessary. Do you ever wonder what people will say at your funeral? I know I do. Hmmm . . . but I digress. Thank you, Sarah McLachlan, for this song that yes, I'll admit, makes me cry sometimes.

SiriusLivesInMe: No, I don't think you've reviewed before either, but thanks! And I believe that you're plans for KayKay and Harry's future closely match IcyPrncss's . . . well, and many others, for that matter ¤ winks ¤ Thanks for reviewing!

siriusfanatic: A castle is . . . well, easiest way to describe it is a fanfiction of a fanfiction (I think I have this description memorized by now, heehee!) The Scars of Betrayal and Someday, You'll Remember That are examples of ones I've done . . . readers have done them before too (although theirs usually involve KayKay and Harry getting back together, I have NO idea why . . . ¤wink, wink ¤

And evil? Moi?

Perish the thought . . .¤ grins wickedly ¤

siriusfanatic (P.S.) : ¤ eyes grow wide as she cowers in her computer chair ¤

Okay, first of all, I never promised a happy OR tolerant ending . . . I never would. And besides, this is only Christmas, not the ending.

And no amount of begging, bribing, or tantrum-throwing will change things . . . sorry.

Jessi, Jessi, Jessi: Well, you're through the chapters now, so there's not much to say here except for thanks!

Bujiana: ¤ hands Bujiana a box of tissues ¤

Kassie: Yes, she died, I'm sorry that The Scars of Betrayal confused you on that point. Whenever I do a one-shot, I try to make it clear that it's a spinoff on the series, a way that it could be different, not ACTUALLY part of the series.

Nick: Wow, I made a guy almost reach for the box of tissues! (You can't see me, but when I read your review my jaw dropped.)

siriusfanatic (P.P.S.) : Ahhh! Spain? ¤ is officially jealous ¤

Good luck with college stuff!

xAnonymityx: Author wench? Come on, don't give me a spinoff of your nickname for Matt!

(For those who don't go to the WB Dialogue Centre, there's a new nickname that readers have developed for Matt: "Little Man Wench.")

Well, I responded to your review on the boards, but . . . can I have the cookies back?

ACK! And no, you may NOT marry Brian!

¤ swoons at memory of Chapter 11 ¤

He's MIIIIINNNEEE!

xAnonymityx (again) : Be strong!


And, since there's only one review on The Scars of Betrayal . . .

Nick: Well, I know I won't add more to Someday, You'll Remember That. But . . . well . . . I'm working on an idea for another castle/one-shot that would/could fit with The Scars of Betrayal, sooo . . . time will tell, I suppose.


PONDERANCE: We do these nightly on the boards, and this was a really good one inspired by a question that IcyPrncss asked me.

Who (out of Harry, Brian, and Matt)loves KayKay most?

So, if you want to answer this ponderance (from an UNBIASED point of view), feel free to say which of the boys loves her most in your UNBIASED opinion, which loves her the second-most in your UNBIASED opinion, and which loves her least in your UNBIASED opinion . . . and elaboration on why you think so inneed I say it?you UNBIASED opinion . . . would be cool. You can just put it in a review if you want to reply.(I think this stuff is sooo interesting!)