It had been a hard month for the four cousins, and with Christmas drawing nearer, their spirits were slightly higher than they had been before. Surely the King of Darkness was still human enough to spare them any pain over the Christmas holidays. Of course, this wasn't definite, but they clung to their hope the same way a starving man would clutch a piece of bread. They just wanted everything to be the way it had been during their other school years.

Their First year had been full of exploration, attempts to find new passages, and minor pranks. As Second year came to a close, they'd replaced Fred and George with the number of detentions anyone had ever gotten in Hogwarts history, their pranks only having been slightly destructive. Third year had been their experimentation year, pulling enormously huge pranks and attempting to see how far they could get before the threat of expulsion. Fourth year had been continuing on with their ingenious plans and finding more ways to torture Snape. Their Fifth so far had consisted of crying, attacks, more crying, more attacks, and the occasional prank or two. Never had the four of them wanted to return home so badly in their lives. They loved Hogwarts to pieces, but this year had just been too horrible.

Vilandra was threatening not returning, insisting it contained too many sad memories. Leroux had insisted it contained just as many good ones, but she argued that they weren't enough to outweigh the bad ones. As much as this had hurt her three cousins, they hadn't said anything. They knew she was just lashing out at anything she could, angry that her life was falling apart. Chaim hadn't really talked to anyone since Hermione's capture, and he spent most of his time in his room, hiding behind the hangings of his bed. His friend, Kian, had come to see Vilandra a lot, asking her if there was anything he could do. Vilandra was thankful someone cared about her brother, but all she could tell him was to be there for Chaim. It hadn't been enough for the boy, and he always left feeling useless.

What Kian didn't understand was that friendship was what would get the two of them through the rest of the year. She just hoped Chaim would allow Kian to help him. She spent most of her time trying not to depend on her three cousins, but they could always see through her mask, and whenever she started crying, they were all there for her, helping her get through it. The twins had almost forgotten completely about their father by this point. Even if something happened to him, they could find comfort in the fact that Ginny was still alive and well. If Hermione was killed, Vilandra, Chaim and Sterling would have no one.

Much to Vilandra's annoyance—and Leroux's anger—Malfoy had become even more persistent in the classes he had with her. He seemed to know something was wrong with her, and she always cursed her eyes for being an open book to him. Hagrid had insisted she let him help her, but she had the twins and Leroux, she didn't need a pompous, self-involved wanker pretending to be there for her when he didn't actually care about her. She just wanted her mother back. She wanted her family to be just like all the others, but she knew that that would never happen. Not until her father returned, anyway.

She was angry with her father, she always had been. She hated not knowing where he was or what he was doing. She hated how he had just left them all like that, not even saying goodbye. Her mother seemed to be the only one who'd known he was leaving, and Vilandra's blood always boiled angrily when she saw her mother crying, imagining her father sitting arrogantly on some beach in Hawaii or something, sipping a Margarita. She sometimes wondered if she would ever take her father back if he did return. She wondered if she would have it in her heart to forgive him. All the pain he'd put Hermione through, she half-hoped that if he did come back, Hermione would slap him and throw him out of the house. She knew that would never happen, but she almost hoped it would. Hermione was a strong, beautiful, talented woman, and she didn't deserve the pain and suffering he had brought her by leaving.

"Thinking about the King of Darkness?" Vilandra turned to Leroux, startled.

"What?"

"You had this look of pure hatred on your face." He explained. The four of them were sitting in the Room of Requirement, having turned it into a large Common Room-like area. They didn't want to return to the Gryffindor Common Room. They got too many stares.

"No." Vilandra answered after having looked around the room. "I was thinking about my dad."

"With that much hatred on your face?" Rhett asked, as he lay sprawled on one of the couches. Vilandra nodded.

"I'm pissed about how much he hurt my mother." Rhett nodded in understanding.

"Aunty Hermie deserved much better." Leroux whispered. "But, I'm glad she met him." Vilandra turned to Leroux, frowning. "Hey, we never would've had you to help us with our pranks if your mum and dad had never met." He smiled warmly at her and she forced one gratefully.

"Thanks, Leroux, but we all know you're the ones who corrupted me into being this evil." Talak laughed and high-fived with Rhett.

"Credit for all her pranks again. I can just see Seventh year." Talak closed his eyes. "'Did you really flood the dungeons?' 'I sure did'." Vilandra cuffed him and he laughed, opening his eyes.

"No! That was my idea! Mine!" Vilandra began to laugh hysterically, trying to resemble a mad scientist. The other three burst out laughing, clutching their stomachs from pain. Rhett actually fell off the couch because he was laughing so hard.

Leroux liked that about his cousins. They could be so sad, so unbelievably depressed, or even terrifyingly angry, but one good laugh and they were back to normal. Leroux knew they all envied him. His mum and dad weren't famous, they didn't have risky jobs, they were never really anything when they were younger—except Fred, but he was only a prankster. Their lives hadn't been as hard or dangerous as Harry's, Ron's or Hermione's. He didn't have a reputation to live up to, and even if he did, it would only be as a prankster, and he'd already surpassed his father's reputation by flooding the dungeons with Vilandra. Looking at his three cousins, all of whom were laughing, he couldn't help but feel guilty for having the life all three of them wanted.

Even out of the Wizarding world, Harry Potter was still recognized on the street by various witches or wizards, who quickly made it known to him that they loved him for stopping Voldemort. Harry spent most of his life trying to dodge such people, and the heavy burden of being heroes lay on Rhett and Talak's shoulders. Leroux half-expected Vilandra, Rhett and Talak to go off and battle against the King of Darkness because of who their parents were. He would never be part of that tight-knit group—hero's children didn't associate with other people's children. It was beneath them.

That was why he was thankful to have the cousins that he did. He knew the first time they met that they would be the best of friends. Vilandra had taken a shinning to him straight away, and they'd only been three! As the four of them grew up, they'd spent so much time together it wasn't all that surprising that they'd all become such good friends. Add in their love for chaos and they were perfect for each other.

He turned back to his cousins, smiling as they continued to laugh, and Talak looked at his watch.

"Blimey, is that the time!" He asked as he flew off his chair. "We've got to hurry and get to the Great Hall if we want to have enough time to eat before Transfiguration!" The four of them rushed towards the door and exited their cozy little room. As they headed towards the stairs, Vilandra stopped and cursed.

"I forgot my bag in the Common Room. Go on ahead, I'll catch up." She turned on her heel and bolted back down the corridor, hurrying towards Gryffindor tower. She stopped in front of the Fat Lady, panting slightly.

"Good Lord, child. I hope you're not planning on being an athlete, because you'd be terrible at it." Vilandra shook her head unbelievably.

"Iustitia." Vilandra said simply. The portrait swung open and she dashed inside, flying up the stairs to her room. The entire tower was empty, and she was almost certain she was the only person not down enjoying her breakfast. She found her bag and slung it over her shoulder, jumping back down the stairs two at a time. She hurried out of the tower and ran for the stairs. She just hoped she'd have enough time for at least a small bite to eat before having to head off to class.

She frowned as a chill crept up her spine. She looked around. Sure, it was winter and the snow was falling freely outside, but it had never seemed this cold inside the castle before. In fact, she was almost certain it hadn't been that cold when she'd returned to Gryffindor tower. She slowed to a walk and looked around, the cold still sweeping over her. Her breath began to come out in a white mist from her mouth, and she frowned. How had it suddenly become so unbelievably cold?

She could hear someone crying and looked around for the source. It took her a long while to realize it was her mother—and it was coming from inside her head. Her breath caught in her throat and she pulled out her wand, whipping around. Behind her, gliding slowly down the corridor, was a Dementor.

"Expecto Patronum!" Vilandra shrieked, aiming her wand at the Dementor. A small puff of white smoke came out, but nothing more. It was almost like a car sputtering. "Expecto Patronum!" She hollered again. Think of something happy, think of something happy! She thought frantically. The problem was, her year had been so horrible that she wasn't able to think of anything happy. "Expecto Patronum!" She tried for a third and final time. Still, nothing happened, and the Dementor was only a few feet away.

Giving up, Vilandra turned on her heel and ran as fast as she could down the corridor, dropping her bag loudly to the floor. She still clutched her wand in her hand, but she wasn't sure why. She hadn't been able to create a Patronus before, she didn't see why she would be able to later. She heard terrified screams as she ran, and wondered if they were coming from her own head, or from the people in the castle with her. She hoped Chaim and her cousins would be all right. She hoped everyone would be all right, really, but she especially hoped for the safety of her family. She'd lost too much, and she would kill every single Dementor if anything happened to another one of her family members.

Vilandra bolted around a corner and screamed as she flew off her feet, having tripped on another one of Peeves' pranks. She half-wondered if he knew this prank would cost Vilandra her soul. As she scrambled to get back to her feet, the Dementor caught up to her and grabbed her right ankle, pulling her backwards. She screamed as she clawed at the floor, feeling one of her nails break as she attempted to get away from the creature. It pulled her to it and then turned her onto her back, sucking the happiness out of her. She tried to ignore the unpleasant thoughts in her mind and closed her eyes almost as tightly as she closed her mouth. No matter what happened, she would not allow him to suck out her soul.

As the Dementor began to pry open her mouth, a voice rang out through the corridor.

"No!" Vilandra's eyes snapped open at this voice, for it was one she recognized. The Dementor pulled away from her and turned its head to glance behind itself. "Not her." The Dementor obediently let go of Vilandra and flew over her, heading for the corridor in the opposite direction of the voice.

Vilandra's heart was beating wildly in her chest, and for more reasons than one. As she sat up slowly, painfully, she stared at the man that stood before her. She'd known it was him before even seeing him, having recognized his voice. But that wasn't the reason she was staring at him horrified. The Dementors only listened to the King of Darkness, and as Vilandra stared at the handsome man before her with the soft red hair and kind blue eyes, the realization hit her so hard she was almost stunned she wasn't lying flat on her back again. For the man before her was two different people. The man before her was her father, Ronald Weasley—and the King of Darkness.

"Dad?" Vilandra asked as tears flooded her eyes. He merely smiled at her, and then turned, disappearing down another corridor. Vilandra stared at the spot he had stood for what seemed like hours, but was probably only minutes. Tears fell relentlessly down her face and she couldn't stop herself from shaking.

All this time she'd thought her mother cried whenever they spoke of Ron because he had left her. Now, she knew the truth. Hermione had known all along that Ronald Weasley was the King of Darkness. She didn't cry because he had left her, she cried because he had become a monster. Vilandra couldn't move, she could hardly breathe. How could her mother have kept this from her? How could her mother not have confided in her? This was something so, so important! This was something that Vilandra deserved to know!

As she sat there, still staring at the spot where Ron had stood, Leroux ran into her corridor from an adjacent one, screeching to a halt as he saw her.

"Lonnie!" He hollered as he hurried towards her, Rhett and Talak close behind. "Lonnie!" He skid to a halt in front of her, falling to his knees painfully, but he was too worried about Vilandra to even notice the pain shooting up from his knees. "Lonnie, are you okay? Lonnie, can you hear me?" He cupped her face in his hands, forcing her to turn away from where Ron had stood. She didn't say anything, nor did she show any signs of having heard him. Rhett and Talak shared horrified looks. Leroux's eyes brimmed with tears. "Vilandra?" He whispered. Still, she said nothing. He hugged her tightly. "God, Vilandra, please! Say something!"

"You don't think—"

"No!" Leroux hollered, pulling away from Vilandra and turning to Rhett angrily, tears streaming down his face. "No, it didn't get her soul! No! She's still in there!" He turned to Vilandra and shook her shoulders violently. "Lonnie! Lonnie, say something!" He hollered in her face. Talak shoved Leroux out of the way and lifted Vilandra in his arms.

"You're not helping!" He grunted as he held his cousin and hurried down the corridor. The other two hurried after him, both going on either side of Talak and looking down at Vilandra. She clutched Talak's shirt tightly with her right hand, scrunching up the material, but did nothing else.

"That means something, right?" Rhett asked, motioning her hand clutching at Talak's shirt. "That's got to mean something, doesn't it?"

"She's still in there. She's just in shock!" Leroux continued to insist. "The Dementors didn't get to her, they were downstairs! She's all right!" They continued walking down the corridor, almost running. They reached the Hospital Wing much slower than they'd wished and threw open the doors.

"Madam Pomfrey!" Rhett hollered, running to the back of the large room and looking into her office. He then checked her bedroom and re-emerged as Talak placed Vilandra on a bed.

"Where is she?" Leroux growled angrily pacing back and forth on one side of the bed Vilandra occupied.

"Probably in the Great Hall, with all the other professors." Talak insisted as he sat on the bed beside Vilandra, watching her. She was still lying in the same position he'd put her down in, but her eyes were aimed downward, as if she couldn't look any of them in the eye.

Rhett and Leroux began pacing back and forth on either side of Vilandra's bed, Talak sitting beside her and running his hand through her hair occasionally. Leroux would stop pacing every few seconds to say her name, but when she didn't react, he would start up again.

About twenty minutes later, the Hospital Wing doors opened and Madam Pomfrey stumbled in, followed closely by professor Dumbledore.

"Professors Sprout and Sinatra, I can't believe it." Madam Pomfrey was saying sadly. They both looked up as they noticed the two boys pacing in their peripheral vision. Talak stood up as well, standing beside Leroux. "What are you doing in here?"

"Professor!" Leroux exclaimed in a panic. "It's Lonnie! We think her soul's been sucked out!" Madam Pomfrey was at Vilandra's side within seconds, Dumbledore close behind her. After a few seconds of inspection, Madam Pomfrey sighed relieved.

"She's fine."

"She's fine? Don't tell me that she's fine! Does she look fine to you!" Leroux exploded, taking a step forward. Talak grabbed his arm and yanked him back, understanding Leroux's outburst, but not finding it entirely appropriate.

"I meant she still has her soul. This is something else." Madam Pomfrey insisted as she looked over Vilandra.

"Well, what is it?" Rhett asked.

"I don't know. Shock, maybe." Madam Pomfrey said, turning Vilandra's face slightly to face her.

"Shock because of what?" Talak asked.

"I don't know. The only person who can tell you that is her." She motioned Vilandra.

"Well, she's not exactly very talkative right now, is she?" Leroux demanded angrily. Talak squeezed his arm tighter and Leroux winced.

"You three should return to your dormitory." Dumbledore said, turning to Leroux and Talak, Rhett still on the other side of the bed.

"You can't expect us to just—"

"Yes, I can." Dumbledore interrupted Rhett, turning to face him. "If anything changes, I assure you, you shall be the first to know." They said nothing. "Dismissed." The three shared an angry look and walked slowly out of the Hospital Wing, slamming the doors loudly behind them. Dumbledore bent down beside Vilandra.

"Vilandra? Can you hear me?" She said nothing. She didn't move. He straightened up and turned to Madam Pomfrey. "Are you certain her soul is still intact?"

"Positive, professor Dumbledore. After all, all one has to do is look at professor Sprout or professor Sinatra." Madam Pomfrey's voice caught in her throat and she shook her head sadly. None of the students had been hurt, nor had any of them lost their souls. The same could not be said for Professors Sprout and Sinatra, both of whom had unfortunately lost their souls to two Dementors while trying to protect a group of students.

Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey began to head for her office when Vilandra spoke for the first time since seeing her father.

"Is it true?" Dumbledore turned, looking at Vilandra. She hadn't moved, but she spoke again to prove to him she had actually spoken the first time. "Is it really him?"

Dumbledore went to her side again and waved his wand, conjuring a chair. He sat down in it and took one of her hands.

"Is what true, Ms. Weasley?" Vilandra turned to him, tears brimming in her eyes again.

"Is it really him? Did he really become this—this monster?" Dumbledore watched her a long while and then pressed his lips together. She had finally found out the truth. He didn't know whether it would've been harsher for Hermione to have told her, or for her to have found out herself. With a loud sigh and a heavy heart, Dumbledore nodded.

"Yes, Vilandra. I'm afraid it is." A sob escaped from between Vilandra's lips and she silently cursed how much she'd cried this year. If there wasn't a limit on how many times someone could cry per day, then there should've been! Dumbledore gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Tell me it's not true." She sobbed. Dumbledore sighed, shaking his head.

"I'm afraid I can't." He watched Vilandra as she continued to cry, feeling worse and worse for her by the second. "How did you find out, child?"

"He saved me from a Dementor." She muttered. "It's such a horrible way to find out that he's my father." She whispered, a fresh wave of tears falling down her cheeks as she turned away from him. Dumbledore felt guilt wrench his heart. It was the second time this year he'd seen Vilandra cry because of her parents. He hated that he was the one to tell her the truth both times.

"If you don't mind my asking, what are you going to tell your brothers?" Dumbledore asked her sympathetically. She sniffed, wiping her tears away with her free hand.

"I'm not." She replied. Dumbledore was taken aback. She turned back to him. "As far as they know, their father is dead, and that's the way it's going to stay."

"Do you think it's wise?" Madam Pomfrey asked from behind Dumbledore. She looked at Madam Pomfrey.

"I don't really care whether it's wise or not." She admitted, tears still streaming down her face, although her voice sounded strong and hard. "All I know is I don't want my six year old brother feeling the way I do right now." Madam Pomfrey pressed her lips together.

"And Chaim?" Dumbledore inquired.

"I don't want him to have a breakdown. I love him too much." Vilandra admitted. Dumbledore nodded.

"As you wish. What of your cousins?" Vilandra said nothing, looking away.

"I'll tell them when I feel they need to know." She whispered. Dumbledore nodded.

"You can remain here for the rest of the day. I'll inform the professors of your absence." Vilandra said nothing. She merely turned onto her side and continued to cry silently, staring straight ahead, the tears falling from her eyes.

-----

Hermione helped Harry out of his chair and he groaned, rotating his shoulder painfully.

"Sorry it took me so long to wake up." She whispered guiltily, well aware that Harry hadn't been able to move until she awoke. He'd been tied to that chair for days, months even. The Death Eaters got a real kick out of feeding him, either shoving his food forcefully down his throat, or holding it just out of his reach for hours on end when he hadn't eaten anything in ages.

Hermione's eyes flickered to his face, falling on his two new wounds.

"Presents from our old friend." He muttered, running his hand across one of his cheeks. Dried blood was stuck to his face and he grimaced.

"I'm sorry, Harry." Hermione whispered, sitting down on the bed. "I was ready to do it and then—I saw him and I just-I just couldn't." Hermione buried her face in her hands. Harry sat down beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

"I couldn't do it, either, Hermione." He whispered. "Too much of Ron is still there. And too much of our friendship and love for him is still there."

"But he's not Ron anymore!" Hermione exclaimed angrily, dropping her hands from her face. "Why is it so hard for us to see that!"

"Because we don't want to." Harry replied. "We knew Ron when he was our friend, our sidekick in getting into trouble. He was always there for us, always with us, and for him to have gone so evil is unthinkable in our minds. It's not that we're not aware of it, it's that we won't accept it." Harry sighed, looking around the room sadly. "I'd give anything to have the old Ron back."

"So would I." Hermione whispered. They sat in silence for a while. "Why do you think we're still alive? We're both threats to his success, whether we're in his hands or not."

"I think Ron's still got some humanity." Harry muttered. "He insists he's worse than Voldemort, but Voldemort killed everyone. Even his friends."

"Voldemort didn't have any friends, Harry. You said so yourself. He never had friends, only followers." Hermione reminded him. "Maybe Voldemort wouldn't have killed his friends, either."

"I suppose we'll never know." Harry admitted, wishing desperately to be able to see Ginny and his sons again. Hermione turned to him as he fell silent. Watching his expression, she knew what he was thinking about.

"How long has it been?" Hermione asked him. He turned to her. "Since you've seen Rhett, Talak and Ginny." Harry sighed, shaking his head.

"I lost count after thirty-five days. Seems like forever and a day." He admitted. "When was the last time you saw Vilandra, Chaim and Sterling?" Guilt bubbled within Hermione as she thought of her children.

"I saw them the day before Vilandra and Chaim left for Hogwarts. Shortly before you did." Harry grimaced.

"You haven't seen Sterling since?" Hermione shook her head guiltily.

"I had so much time to be with him, but I just—I had so much work and then you were taken…" Hermione trailed off. "I hope he's seen Vilandra at least. I hope she hasn't told him about me being caught. I'd rather him think I was too busy than him know I'm here." Harry nodded in understanding.

"Sterling can't stand being away from you and Lonnie for more than three days. This year must've been hard for him so far." Hermione nodded.

"If I ever get out of here, I'll spend more time with Sterling. It's not fair to him that I have problems looking at him because he reminds me of Ron. Sterling isn't Ron, and he doesn't deserve to feel like his mother doesn't love him."

"Sterling knows you love him, Hermione. When he's older, he'll understand why you were always finding it hard to be around him." Hermione said nothing and Harry's mind returned to the twins. "There was a time I thought summer was always too long. The twins were always so troublesome, so Fred-and-George-like. I used to hate it when they were at home all the time. I'd give anything for a prank right now." He smiled slightly, thinking about the way the twins always high-fived when one of their pranks went exactly as planned. Then, they'd run away hurriedly as Harry chased them angrily. "I'd give anything for them to just—drop an invisibility potion on my notes for the next day's class." He whispered. Hermione smiled slightly.

"Vilandra's more of an element person." She whispered. "She once filled up Chaim's cupboard with dirt. It was her payback for the swamp he'd put in her room. She'd ended up living in her swamp-room for a month." Hermione smiled at Harry. "You know how she is with not being a victim of any prank." Harry nodded.

"Better tempered than my boys, that I can guarantee." They sat in another silence, thinking things over in their minds.

"Does Vilandra know about Ron?" Harry asked. Hermione said nothing and he rushed on before she could reply. "I never wanted to ask you before now because I didn't want to open healing wounds, but now that we're here, I just have to ask." Hermione nodded.

"I know, Harry." Was all she said. Harry didn't press her, and she finally replied on her own. "I didn't want Vilandra to know. She keeps her emotions all bottled up and I didn't think it would be healthy for her to know. Chaim, of course, would become even more rebellious and guarded than he already is, and Sterling—he's just too young for news like that." Harry nodded in understanding. "We've told Kei." She admitted, turning to him. "We thought at least one of them should know. She's the eldest, so it seemed like the best idea." Harry nodded again.

"It's good at least one of them knows." They sat in another silence. "What do you think will happen now?" Hermione shrugged.

"I don't know. At this point, anything can happen. He's not the man he used to be, is he?" Harry turned to the door sadly.

"No. He's really not."

-----

Vilandra stared out the window as she sat in the Common Room. She'd returned from the Hospital Wing shortly after midnight, and she couldn't find herself ever being able to fall asleep. She also didn't want to have to endure Jase's questions. It was nice of her to worry, but Vilandra just didn't have the strength to put up with them. All she wanted to do was sit there and cry, so once she'd returned to the Common Room, that was what she had done.

It was now close to three in the morning, and she hadn't moved from her position, staring out at the Lake that was half frozen, snow falling freely onto the school grounds. Tears continued to fall down her face, but she'd been crying so much since she'd found out that she barely noticed them anymore. There were dried tears on her cheeks, along with new wet ones. She felt like she would never stop crying.

Vilandra didn't even flinch as she heard someone come up behind her. Arms were wrapped around her from behind, hugging her tightly.

"Please stop crying, Lonnie." Chaim whispered. "It scares me when you're this upset." Vilandra said nothing. She couldn't tell Chaim why she was crying, so she found no reason to open her mouth. Anything she said would be a lie, and she didn't want to lie to her brother.

He stayed behind her for a long while, hugging her, not saying a word. Then, he finally let her go. He kissed her cheek before backing away.

"I love you, Lonnie. And I hope you're okay." He whispered before turning and disappearing back into his room. Vilandra was touched by his show of emotions, but nothing would ever make her feel all right again. The man who had been her father was now the evilest wizard since Lord Voldemort. And to top it off, he had Harry and Hermione. What kind of friend would ever stray so far from the path? The three of them had grown up fighting the very thing Ron had become. How did someone's life become so wrong and twisted that the only thing they could do with it was turn into the very thing they hated? Did Ron not care about his family? His friends? Had he forgotten what it was like to be a hero?

Vilandra heard footsteps approaching her, and she was almost surprised it had taken him this long to find out she was back. Leroux sat down beside her on the windowsill, watching her as she stared out the window.

"You weren't in class today. We were worried about you." She said nothing. "We thought the Dementors had sucked out your soul. What happened to you?" She still didn't reply, and they fell into a long and painful silence. "Lonnie, talking about this will help."

"Nothing will ever help." Vilandra replied simply. Leroux watched her a long while.

"Is it still about your mum?" Leroux whispered, trying to inch delicately around the painful subject. He knew there was no easy way to say it, but he had to.

"I really wish it were still about my mum, Leroux." Vilandra whispered, still not looking at him. He sighed.

"Come on, let's go pull a prank on Peeves. It'll make you feel better." He stood up. Vilandra merely scoffed, still staring out the window.

"Nothing will ever make me feel better." She muttered. Leroux sighed, shaking his head. She'd been getting better, and now the Dementor attack had made her fall back to where she had been when her mother had been taken. No, she was far beyond that, now. She was worse then when her mother had been taken, and Leroux didn't understand what could have caused it. He sighed, sitting back down beside her.

"Come on, Lonnie. Why are you crying?" He asked her again. Slowly turning her head, she finally faced him, tears still streaming steadily down her face.

"If you knew what I knew, you'd cry, too." Vilandra admitted.

"What do you know?" Leroux inquired. Vilandra stared at him a long while. This was Leroux. This was the one person in the world she cared about more than her brothers and mother. This was her cousin, her best friend—if anyone would see her through this, it was him. He deserved to know. So, turning away from him so as not to see his look of horror, she spoke the words that would seal the truth forever.

"My father is the King of Darkness."