A/N: hello, everybody! Ok, I decided that I'd continue. Chad, baby, this is for you!!!!!

Okay, the link didn't upload last chapter, that makes me upset......

Dear all, I feel that this review should be posted, as a memo/warning to you all, courtesy of a good friend who inspired me to continue...

Alright you b# If you read this story then F#ing review so Thunder will continue to work on this story. Thunder is obviously a review addict so we need to help her get her fix. i do not like slash so I cant read the other story (I break out into hives if I try to read...Honest...lol) ok maybe not but it is killing us in reviews and I was to se this story finished. Please review.

Btw great story Thunder

Have a nice day

Chad Simmons

the were # supposed to be stars, but it wouldn't load

Oh, and I'm not a review addict. Well, I might be. But you must understand, when some say you're a good writer, then some say you suck, and others refuse to speak, you get a little discouraged...

Ahem, and Chad, are we a just a tad bit desperate? Don't worry, hun, I'm going to finish this story if it kills me, and it just as well might, but look at my profile!!! I have others!!! And my slash fic is bringing in some good and planned-out reviews! I like getting responses to know what I need to fix or if I should just stop!!! Or in Chad's case if I need to keep going!!!

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Final notes:::::.....

/thoughts/

[author's notes]

---Chapter seventeen---

Harry had drifted off to sleep after that, waking up to find the cat gazing out the window. It was still early; the sky was only just lightening up. Crookshanks turned and watched him as Harry rose from the bed, groaning. Sitting against a headboard all night was not a comforting affair.

Harry made eye-contact with the cat, getting the uncanny feeling that there was more to it. Come to think of it, Crookshanks had changed physically; his once flat face now had an elegant, circular 3D shape and his once shaggy ginger fur was glossy and well kept. He looked different, but his eyes were still blazing amber-brown. But something was behind those eyes...

Harry continually told himself that Hermione had charmed him into looking better, though he knew that was a lie. He turned, and put on his sweater that he had taken off earlier, the green one from last Christmas with the large "H" on it from Mrs. Weasley. All this time, the cat watched him.

"What's your problem?" Harry asked exasperatedly, turning to the animal.

Crookshanks glared at him. /Since when do cat's glare like that?/ Harry thought. It seemed so human...

"You," the cat replied, voice aristocratic, but at the same time seeming unfamiliar with talking. /well duh.../

Harry just stared. /Okay, now I am crazy/ he thought /Cat's don't talk! Okay, just ignore it. It was just you're imagination/ Harry blinked, and went to put on his shoes.

"You can hear me, it's not your mind," Crookshanks continued.

Harry tried his best to ignore it as he slipped on his tennis shoes. /Nope, not crazy. I am NOT crazy/

Crookshanks jumped from the windowsill, and onto the bed. Harry promptly rose, and the cat sat down where he once had been. Harry turned and faced Crookshanks. The cat looked... amused.

"Okay, fine, if you can talk..." Harry said, while his mind screamed /It's all a trick! It's like talking to the portraits! It's not healthy shut up!!!!/

"What's your name?" Harry continued.

Crookshanks smirked; "Not the one the witch in the shop gave me," the cat replied.

"Answer the question," Harry said, taking his wand from his back pocket; "Or I'll hex you into oblivion..."

"Oh, fine, but like it would have an affect on me," Crookshanks said, rolling his eyes; "Orion."

"What?"

"That is my sire-given name... Orion."

Harry nodded, sitting on the bed, turning to face Crookshanks; "What's with you being a cat, then?" he asked quietly, glancing at Brenna. She was still asleep, thank God. If she caught Harry, he was sure she would freak. But then again, Brenna was Brenna, she'd probably just join in...

"Oh, well, you know how it is," Orion, replied; "Bit of a family squabble, and rather than hide and face persecution, I became what wizards call an Animagus. Shame though, I wanted to be a majestic bird," he mused as he looked at a paw; "But, you get what you're given."

"Well, of course," Harry said; "So then, 'Orion', why am I your problem?"

"You're close to Brenna, and you're not elfin," Orion replied curtly; "It's bad enough her blood is thin as it is, let alone her falling for you."

Harry stared at Orion, realization slamming into him; "You're an elf!" he exclaimed.

"Oh, give the booby a prize!" Orion groaned, rolling his eyes.

"Hey!" Harry said indignantly; "Don't make me throw you out the window...!"

"I'd land on my feet, Brain child," Orion said snidely; "Honestly, are you trying to infuriate me?"

"Whatever," Harry said, "Anyway, are you a relative of Brenna's?"

Orion was silent; "Yes," he replied finally, turning his head to the side.

"Okay," Harry said slowly; "Uncle? Cousin?"

"Neither..."

"Grandfather? Godparent?"

"Well, not eactly..."

"...Sibling?"

"Yes," Orion said.

"She's got another brother!" Harry exclaimed, jumping up and aiming his wand at the cat; "I swear, if you're in with McNay, I'll—"

"Put you're wand away, boy," Orion said, "I wouldn't help that traitor if my life depended on it."

Harry lowered his wand, but still held it in his hand firmly.

"I'm older than Ammil, and especially Brenna," Orion said, trying to steady his tone as his anger rose at such an accusation; "I was the first born, to my father's first wife. My mother died giving birth to me. I grew up in good times, when things were peaceful. But then, after my father re-married and they had McNay, things changed. My step-mother got the virus, and my father was left to care for us. I was already grown; I was living at peace in London.

"Then I received my Calling from the council, and, while Tom Riddle was trying to persuade that Ministry of yore, I went under assignment. The thing is, they Council was trying to root out all of the black sheep of the race..."

"And you were one of them," Harry said.

Orion nodded; "Not that I minded. After my step-mother died I'll admit I did change. Apparently, not in a good way," he added, picking at a loose thread on the quilt.

"What did you do?" Harry asked.

Orion glanced at him, before staring out into space, in the direction of the rail; "I came back and confronted the Gengedelea... sorry, the Council, and I... said some things... that, well, if I hadn't run, I would have been killed. So would all of my other relatives."

Harry nodded. Something told him not to delve deeper into the subject; "So, can you... change out of this form?" he asked.

The cat shook his head; "Only when I can without the other elves knowing," he replied; "I chose this form because... I could pass by undetected. It took me ages before I could talk in this form, as well. Oh, that was trying," he added dramatically, rolling his eyes as he rose.

Orion padded over to Brenna, sitting beside her before leaning against her back. She mumbled something, reached back, and stroked the cat's back. Orion closed his eyes, nuzzling his head into her form. She mumbled again, but moved no more.

"You love her, don't you?" Orion asked, opening his eyes and staring at Harry.

"Yes," Harry replied apprehensively.

"Oh, touchy," Orion sneered, rising and padding over to Harry. He came over, and stood on his back paws while his front paws were on Harry's knee. The amber orbs were locked intently on Harry's forehead.

"Would you kindly not stare?" Harry asked, shoving the cat off of him.

Orion made a familiar cat-spitting noise as he moved to the edge of the bed, looking over at Harry still; "Just checking," he said, before getting off the bed and walking over to the stair well. He sat down by the edge, and like a curious kitten looked over the edge. He let out a snort of distaste.

"How will I get down," he mused, walking around the opening.

"I could throw you over;" Harry suggested nonchalantly, lying back and propping himself up on his elbows as he eyed Orion with one eyebrow pompously raised.

"And here I thought the Golden Boy was kind-hearted;" Orion muttered darkly, eyes narrowing as he glanced at the youth.

"For an elf you sure seem jolly," Harry joked placidly.

"Try being stuck in this body and living in a damned pet shop for a decade and a half," Orion muttered, and then he promptly jumped from the left side.

"Oh Hell!" Harry gasped, jumping up and running to the stairwell. He dropped to his knees, frowning when he saw Orion had landed on the railing and had slid down it to the floor and wondering why he chose to worry over him in the first place.

Orion briefly shook his fur, and then walked across the sitting area to the door. He sat beside it, dully staring at the little engraving, promptly held up a paw, showed one claw, and raked it down the door panel.

Harry winced as he rose, hearing the mad caw of the plaque. Orion had a mischievous grin on his face, and strutted out as the door swung open.

To bad for him it slammed shut on the tip of his tail, making the elf-animagus howl in pain. Harry broke out laughing, before climbing down to rescue the poor soul.

---

Brenna opened her eyes slowly, groaning and rolling over to avoid the sunlight that poured into her room through the windows. She rubbed her brow, and sat up. She looked around, seeing a parchment in the vacant spot that had once been occupied beside her. Brenna rolled her eyes as she read the scrawled hand-writing. Harry's print was close to resembling literal chicken-scratch...

Brenna,

Hello, love, suppose you're awake now. Anyway, I had to leave for
classes, and the fact that I had to rescue Crookshanks from the door's
wrath. Honestly, you should take time to watch him; he's very, very
odd. Take your time waking up, 'Mione, Ron, and me are covering for
you. But if you're not up by lunch, I'll send Hermione after you. No,
I'm not that cruel, but really, try getting out of bed before supper
at least? I know you like to sleep, but there is a world beyond those
warm covers.
Love, Harry

P.S.,

Seriously, check up on Crookshanks. Make sure he isn't snooping

Brenna smiled, laughing quietly at the comment. She rose from the bed, parchment floating over to her small desk as she stretched her hand outward. Brenna quickly went down the steps, and went into the closet. She gathered a change of clothing, and then her bathroom necessities, and opened the door a few seconds later. She poked her head out to check that the staircase and Common Room was empty, and then darted to the girls' restrooms.

Brenna opened the door, and decided to shower over bathe. She set her things down on the bench, closed the curtain, and undressed. Walking into the shower area, she closed that curtain, and turned the water on.

The warm cascading water hit her, and Brenna relished in it. She closed her eyes, and then washed her hair. After washing with her vanilla-cinnamon products, Brenna turned the shower off, and as she reached out for her towel, as Fate allowed, the door opened.

"Honestly, Padma, why did we come up here again?"

"Because, Lavender, it's our break and no one will hear us gossip."

"Riiiight, right. So, where was Harry's significant other, you wonder? Normally they're attached at the hip."

"Dunno, but damn is she lucky, wouldn't you say?"

"Harry has become quite handsomer over the year, and I thought those dreadful Muggle relatives of his treated him badly!"

/those awful girls/ Brenna thought with disgust. She listened intently, though, so she was no better. But it was about Harry, and her, so it was alright, she wagered...

"And how come she gets her own room, anyway? It's not fair, she's not even a seventh year!"

"She's an 'exchange student', they get that kind of special treatment. Lucky bitch..."

"Seriously. But, you know what I heard about Brenna..."

"No," came a dramatic gasp; "What? Tell me, Padma, tell me!"

"Well, word of mouth has it that she is Dumbledore's secret weapon. I myself heard Professor McGonagall and Trelawney talking about how Brenna was one of the more powerful witches, and then Trelawney said 'well, she's certainly more than just a witch'. And then, McGonagall replied, 'well, of course she is, the girl's got quite the family tree'."

"So? What could that mean?"

"Well, either Brenna's as pure as they come, or she isn't human at all."

"Oh please... I'm going with the first. I mean, have you ever heard her surname before? I bet her family's so secretive it's surreal...!"

And so saying, the two girls left the bathroom, gossiping idly over Brenna's suspected genealogy and blood status.

Brenna let out a frustrated sigh, anger bubbling in her. As if finding out her true status wasn't enough, now she knew she was officially on the gossip chain list of the school. Brenna quickly dressed, walked out, magically dried her hair, put it in a loose ponytail at the base of her neck, bangs framing her face, and put on the light make-up to cover up the small cross-shaped birthmark on her left temple she had let no one see, not even Harry.

Brenna checked her reflection, and sighed. She wasn't much for preparing herself like she was going to a ball unless the need arose, and since Harry found her beautiful and desirable (information she had gathered from Seamus [cough ahem cough]), she really saw no point in layers of make-up. Hermione had dubbed her blessed with Antique Beauty, not exactly a ten, but around an eight or so. Hermione considered herself a six or even a five, a huge understatement. But she felt the same as Brenna, best perfectly natural and without a mask.

After putting her things in her room, Brenna slung her bag over her shoulder and her robe over her arm, then promptly left the tower. Brenna was heading for the Main staircase when the chime sounded. Classes were over. /Oh, which classes, though/ Brenna thought worriedly as she kept walking, as if unconcerned by the slowly appearing groups of mingling students. Several watched her, finding it peculiar that one of the "Golden Gryffindor Quartet" was walking the halls alone, especially since the risk of attacks hadn't gone from Amber to Red [aheheh, terrorist alert thingy in the US, simply put it didn't go from really really really bad to just kinda really bad]. Even though Zacharias' attack had been almost a month ago, people were still getting jumped and duels had started breaking out.

And when this dawning moment of thought hit her, Brenna became edgy. She went down the fifth floor hallway, towards Charms, but stopped when she remembered that that class had already been through. Brenna inwardly moaned as she looked around. Her memory was shot, she needed help.

And though Fate's a bitch, Luck was its wonderful sister of Remorse. At that moment, Seamus and Dean came around the corner, both looking a little disheveled and flushed. But both saw the very confused looking Brenna in the hallway, stepping out of the way of gossiping groups.

"Oi, Brenna!" Dean shouted, the two fellow Gryffindors rushing to her aid.

"Thank god," Brenna said, smiling as Seamus came up and his arm wrapped around her shoulders.

"So, what's got you wondering around the halls?" Seamus asked as they escorted Brenna to the next class; "Didn't catch you at brekky, or lunch for that matter."

"Were you sick?" Dean inquired worriedly.

He too, had heard rumors about Brenna, and knew that Harry would take a possibly fetal swing at one of them if Brenna was hurt. Secretly, Dean and Seamus were watchers, keeping tabs on the DA, and especially making sure Brenna was never walking around alone. Malfoy was a threat, after all, even if it sounded like Harry was being paranoid. Though, who wouldn't be in his situation...?

"Ah, lunch 's already bin 'round?" Brenna asked; "Oh well, no mattah, I guess. What class 's next?"

"Care of Magical Creatures," Seamus said, sighing forlornly; "Wonder what Hagrid's got up his sleeve today, eh, Dean?"

"Who knows," Dean said, shrugging. Brenna noticed that he was eyeing certain students, particularly Slytherins.

"Dean," she said slowly and cautiously; "What's wrong?"

"Oh er, nothing, Brenna!" he said, giving her a half-hearted grin; "Just, you know, little paranoid today!"

Before a reply could be said, Brenna felt the weight of Seamus' arm leave her shoulders, and she turned to see the Irish young man was ready to draw his wand, looking sternly down at the entrance hall from their spot halfway down the last leg of the stairs. Dean had paused to, gazing ahead intently as well. Slowly, Brenna looked as well, dreading what she would see.

It was Blaise Zambini, and another Slytherin she knew only as Bletchley. The two wore apathetic masks as they confronted the entourage, Dean taking a warning step in front of Brenna while Seamus drew his wand.

"Guys, 'onestly," Brenna said through gritted teeth, her eyes locked in a stare match with Blaise's.

"Brenna," Blaise said in a business-like fashion; "Draco wants to speak with you."

"An' I care because?" Brenna asked slowly, eyeing the Slytherin warily.

"Well, it's regarding your lineage, or so Draco says," Blaise replied, aparently not wanting to be in the situation.

"Yeah, tell the Ice Prince of Prats this," Seamus said; "Tell him to go bloody sod off. Come on, we're going to be late for class..."

He took a step before Blaise held a hand up, eyeing him; "Finnegan, maybe you heard me wrong," he said, tone bordering a growl; "But Draco wishes to speak to Brenna. So I expect a reply from the person in question—"

"'Onestly," Brenna said, forth-right in her tone; "If I 'ad a problem with et, Blaise, I 'da said somethin'. Now, if Draco wants ta talk to meh, he can come to meh himself. Dean, Seamus;" she said calmly, pushing between Blaise and Bletchley.

Dean and Seamus followed, elbowing and shoving past the Slytherins cruelly. The caught up with Brenna, feeling the heated glares being cast in their direction.

"What did Zambini mean by that, anyway?" Seamus asked blatantly once they were outside.

Brenna didn't reply, and Dean only shrugged; "Let's just get going," Dean said.

The three reached Hagrid's hut in silence, and were at once confronted by the trio, Harry in the lead.

"Thank Merlin, Brenna," he started excitedly, but seeing the look Brenna was giving him, when he spoke her name it was calm, almost plainly said; "What's the matter?"

"Kin I talk to ya, Harry?" Brenna asked, but without waiting for his reply, she took him by the arm and dragged him off to the side.

Ron, Hermione, Seamus and Dean all exchanged looks that simply sent out messages of confusion and exasperation.

"What's gotten inta ya lately?" Brenna asked in a hushed whisper; "I know I've been skivin' DA meetin's, but makin' Shay and Dean my guards? Harry, I'm a big girl!"

"Brenna, I know!" Harry said, but when she seemed unconvinced, he took her hands; "Honestly, it's just that duels are becoming more frequent, and the Slytherins are sending random Howlers. There were ten this morning, you were lucky you missed it all. And Malfoy's been trying to contact you for some reason, and it's making me paranoid as hell!" he took a breath of air; "Brenna, I'm only thinking about your safety, I know Malfoy, and—"

"I know 'im too, Harry, "Brenna said; "I know he just wants ta talk! Harry, you only know him through school, I've seen his family life;" she paused; "It's a mask Harry, a Lucius mask. Draco's not like that, I've seen him smile."

"What, are falling for him like the rest of them?" Harry asked, letting her hands go.

"Of course not!" Brenna said, shocked at the accusation; "All I'm saying 's tha' if you two weren' always a' each othas throats, maybe you could notice that he's slowly changing for the worse!"

Harry stared at her; "What?" he asked quietly, eyes darting over to make sure they weren't being heard.

"Yes!" Brenna said; "Afta Halloween, Harry, think! Draco's been withdrawn, weary... and he's constantly rubbing his right arm," she added.

Harry was silent in numbed shock. These were things he had completely bypassed, choosing to ignore him over school, the DA, and his friends. Malfoy was the least of his concern, but Brenna, with her weird senses, couldn't ignore it easily. So he saw it from her perspective. Malfoy had been a little withdrawn, prone to just get straight to the point of dueling. He hadn't really been showing his best effort in Quidditch, either.

Harry nodded; "Then that means," he mused; "That his father got the better of him...?"

Brenna nodded; "he's also been feeding information to Dumbledore. Harry, he's a spy for us."

"So, why are we discussing this?" Harry asked.

Brenna sighed, shook her head wearily, and then hit Harry on the side of the head; "How dense are ya?" she shouted.

"Ouch!" Harry said, rubbing the side of his head. Her ring had caught in his hair, and it had hurt; "What was that for?" he asked.

Brenna groaned; "Look, don' jus' think tha' Draco's a brown-nosah, 'cause he's not. He's a Death Eater not by choice, buh by forced obligation."

Harry nodded, but before he could continue, Hagrid was calling them over for class.

A/N: well, there you have it!!!!!!!