Thanks for being so patient! All I have to say for this one being late is...JUNIOR YEAR SUCKS! Thanks again and enjoy

Standard Disclaimers Apply

Chapter 6

(Severus)

"Do you understand?" I demanded of my young charge. Draco was standing in front of me; it was a few days after the raid in America and the Order wanted to talk to him about his next assignment. I had just given him information on a person who supplied the Death Eaters.

"Yes," Draco responded. His silver eyes were flat and emotionless; he was ready to go in and do what was right.

"I have to go do something today. If it works out, I'll have something for them, but to be on the safe side, don't count on it," I told him.

"Ok," Draco affirmed before he Apparated to the designated location, where he would be picked up from and taken to the hide out.

Turning on my heel, I strode into my workroom and extracted a container of Polyjuice potion that I had been saving for a while. From the bottom of my closet, I withdrew a pale blue set of robes that would be much too small for my frame, but with the help of the nail clippings I had deposited in the potion, they would soon fit perfectly. The last thing I collected before I left was an old messenger bag that I stuffed the blue robes into and a purse full of money.

After I flooed to Diagon Alley I slipped into the bathroom where I drank down the potion. By now I was so used to using potions like this that the usually extremely painful or disturbing effects of the potion didn't bother me. Not the cracking of bones, or the pain of losing organs and growing new ones. It was completely normal for, which was a little disturbing if one thought about it too long.

Once I was fully female, I shed my now oversized robes and dressed myself in the frivolous robes. Bracing myself I looked into the mirror. Big, dark blue eyes set in a small, angelic face stared back at me. Blinking slowly I observed the gently sweeping movement of my now long eyelashes. Long blond hair tumbled down around me in soft curls, and moved with the slightest breath of air.

Picking at the revealing robes, I rolled my shoulders trying to adjust to having what appeared to be rather large breasts. Sighing deeply, I took a few minutes to practice smiling, laughing and looking carefree. I pulled my lips into various pouts, and practiced looking coyly up through my eyelashes. I worked at wrinkling my new button-nose in humor, while allowing my compelling eyes to sparkle with happiness.

A feminine sound of disgust spilled forth, I looked like a female clone of that dolt Lockhart. Flipping my hair over one shoulder I shoved my black robes into my bag and, exited my temporary shelter.

Upon stepping into the crowded pub, I was assaulted by cat calls and lewd suggestions. Smiling as sweetly as I could, I let loose a tinkling laugh before swiftly making for the door. I knew that this wasn't one of the places that Mundungus frequented; he preferred the run down places where you could contract a deadly disease just by looking at them.

Walking down the streets I kept the smile on my face as I slipped around people. My destination was the dirtiest and most scum-filled bar in the entire city. It was called Warthog Haven, which was quite appropriate. It was a small, inconspicuous place that was the center of most illegal activity in the Wizarding Underground.

Upon entering the dingy building, the first thing that hit me was the horrendous stench of vomit, alcohol, sex and drugs all mixed together. Many different kinds of people were there; I easily picked out some dwarves and a gnome. The corner was occupied by a vampire who was voraciously feeding on what appeared to be a serving wench, and in a nearby booth was an old hag. It took a supreme effort to not gag and act as though it didn't bother me. I came to places like this often to pick up information, I could never truly get used to it.

I spotted Mundungus right off, but I couldn't go running over to him for that would attract unneeded attention to me. Instead I approached the bar, and sank down onto one of the grimy stools, right next to a shady looking man. I ordered a strong drink from the skeletal looking bartender that I had to force myself to drink. I knew that the glass had probably never been washed since the time it had been bought, but to blend in I had to drink the repulsive swill.

When I was about halfway through the burning liquid, I felt something hook around my leg and start rubbing up and down it. Bile rose in my throat, as the possibility of rape crossed my mind. Reason overrode my fear; the man must think that I was a prostitute or something. Watching him out of the corner of my eye, I barely suppressed the urge to shudder violently. I could almost see the fleas hopping around on him, and I don't think there wasn't a disease he didn't have either on his skin and breath or in his saliva.

"Wha's a purty thing like ye doin 'ere?" he asked me a moment later after he had almost thoroughly molested my leg. "Why don' ye come wit me, I ken show ye a real good time." He leered at me as his foot climbed further up my leg.

"I thank you, but no," I returned tightly. "I am here on business, not pleasure." I literally peeled myself off the seat, and moved to the table where Mundungus was sitting alone. Every time I rested a foot on the floor, I had to wrench it up to be able to take the next step as the sole of my shoe became almost glued to the floor. Smoothly I pulled my flask from my bag and took a long draw from it. I couldn't have myself turn back just yet.

"Hello," I greeted as I slid into the booth across from my prey.

"'Low," he muttered, looking up at me blearily from over his drink. He was completely and totally pissed beyond belief. It was a miracle that he was still sitting up. "Who're you?"

"Just a customer," I reassured him. "I'm looking for a very specific piece of jewelry, and I thought you might have it."

"'Kay," he grunted, swirling his beverage around in the cup, sloshing most of it out and all over himself.

"It's a locket, a very special locket. It's rather large and silver with a very ornate "S" inscribed on it," I described the Horcrux to Mundungus who nodded listlessly.

"Sold that 'un long time ago," he dismissed. "Was a hunk 'o junk anyways. I got some 'uns tha' plenty nicer, would ya like to see 'em?" Sold? He had already sold it? To whom? Who would want to buy such a thing? Damn it! If only I had moved faster!

"No, but if you could please tell me who you sold it to, I would be forever grateful," I simpered at him.

"Dunno if I ken do tha', I mean, there's cus'omer con-confidentiality an all," he told me as he belched loudly. Gritting my teeth, I realized that even though he was thoroughly drunk, and would probably not remember me or this dealing, he would not give up anything without some money.

"How much will it cost me for you to give me a name?" I growled, and Mundungus paused to think.

"Hmmm, maybe a Sickle or two'll jar my mem'ry," he told me, and I pulled out three from my pouch. "Whelp, 'er name started wit a "C," tha's 'bout all I 'member." I handed over two Galleons. "Algranati, tha' waz 'er name. Can'ace Algranati."

"Candace Algranati?" I snapped at him, and he nodded back at me as he pocketed my money.

"If'n ya give me more, I ken even tell ya where she lives," he revealed and I declined. Standing up I gave the bartender some coins on my way out, a loud buzzing in my head. He had sold it to Candace.

Out in the bright sunlight again, I hurried back to the safety of that small bathroom, to change back into my normal self. I barely remembered to change into my old robes before the transformation began.

How was I supposed to get the Horcrux from her? Why did she have to have it? Shoving everything back into my bag I re-entered the common room of the pub and flooed back to my home.

Pettigrew was poking around the room when I came out of the fireplace. Anger rose in me, and I hit him with a few spells before shoving him back in to the hidden room where he was supposed to stay. He was too nosy for his own good, and it was getting on my nerves. Not to mention the fact that there was a real danger for me because I did actually did have something to hide. If he found about either Draco or I, we would be dead before the night was out.

Knowing that Draco wouldn't be back for a while, I retreated to my rooms. I didn't have the strength or want to deal with Pettigrew. He was scum that I longed to exterminate above all others. Many thought that I would want to kill Harry first because of my past, or the way I treat him, but in reality I know he is the only one who can rid this world of the Dark Lord. No matter how much I compared him to his father I knew that he really wasn't like James, because if he was, he wouldn't be friends with Longbottom or Lovegood. He had didn't have the same maliciousness in him that his father did, the need to prove himself strong and cool. If anything, all he wanted was to be normal.

"Stop it! Just stop! It wasn't your fault! You had to do it!" I could almost hear her talking to me, like on that night so long ago.

"I could have decided differently. I was too scared that He would find out what side I truly was on. And in that I made a grave error," I whispered, repeating what I had told her.

Lying down on my bed, I allowed my thoughts to wander back to a time when I hadn't known her that well. When she had still been just another foreign airhead.

"No!" the short woman next to me howled.

Glancing down I recognized the tiny girl that I had encountered on the street and at the concert. She was wearing dark blue robes that swirled around her with her impatience, revealing the white pants and pale yellow tank top she had on underneath. Her arms were bare, which revealed multiple bruises in different stages of healing. Her light orange hair was pulled back into cornrows that ran down into a thick braid at the base of her neck.

"Ilsh fra domse!" she bellowed, slamming her fists down on the railing in front of her. Blushing bright red, she turned to me and apologized for her behavior.

"I'm so sorry. It's just that I want my team to win; this is the first time that Brazil has made it to the World Cup in forever." She smiled at me; her eyes sparkling pools of light brown emotion.

"I understand," I returned coolly, hoping that she wouldn't recognize me.

"Oh my God! You're that man from the concert!" She exclaimed, it was almost as though she had picked the thought right from my mind, but that was impossible. I had my barriers up.

"Yes," I stiffly answered and her grin widened even further.

"Oh! And Brazil loses the Quaffle!" the announcer yelled, causing the female to whip around and curse at the team. I was rather amazed at the imagination in her foul language. Most people just stuck to normal swearwords, but she went in depth to a level usually only Aurors were known for. That might explain the bruises.

"Candi, do watch your tongue," her friend hissed at her. Candi responded by merely sticking the aforementioned part out at her, before turning back to the game.

Moments later she was bouncing all over the place yelling out strategies, encouragement, insults and commentary. She toppled over many times, leading me to conclude that she couldn't possibly be an Auror because she was so clumsy. Not to mention the fact that she was so excitable.

"Go Jaguars! Oh come on!" Candi screamed; her hands were clenching the railing in front of her so hard that her knuckles turned white. "Kick the crap out of them! Give 'em what for!"

She began to bounce back and forth from the balls of her feet to her heels and back, most likely from the nervous energy building up within her. It was a spectacle that was quite entertaining to watch.

"Knock him off his broom! No one cares if it's legal or not!" She was leaning over the railing now, as if she was trying to catch one of the players and rattle some sense into his head.

"The Spaniards are in the lead," her dark haired friend commented.

"Not for long!" Candi didn't even turn to look at her friend as she answered. She kept her eyes firmly locked on the game. "OH! You have got to be kidding me! He was right there! FOUL!"

Abruptly she flung her head back, one hand raised to the bridge of her nose as she continued to jiggle up and down. Neither of her friends seemed to think this was abnormal so I ignored it myself and continued to watch the game.

"And the Jaguars' score!" the commentator bellowed, and the petite witch cursed at missing it, and jerked her head forward. She was continually swiping at her nose and tilting her head back at odd intervals.

"I swear if we lose this game...I'll murder you all in your sleep!" she shouted out the threat just as the Seeker for her team caught the Snitch, resulting in their winning. Smiling at the coincidence I stood up to leave, but was impeded by Candi whipping around and hugging me.

"We won!" she hooted after she released me, and punched the air with a fist. A second later she toppled over, and her two friends and I bent over her to find her drenched in blood from her still bleeding nose, a huge grin plastered on her face.

"Candi," the calm one muttered. "You need to stop working yourself up over little things. You know that you get nosebleeds very easily."

"She can't help it," the other chuckled. "She's a ditz by nature!"

"She's going to kill herself someday," the first grumbled.

"Yeah, most likely."

That was Candace Algranati. A bouncing ball of happiness and love. She was responsible for so many things that had happened in my life. The miniature catalyst that could have saved me.

"Snape?" Draco called from outside my rooms. Dragging myself back from my thoughts, I hauled my drained body off the bed and to the door. We needed to talk about his meeting and what our next steps would be.


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