I was running out of time. I wanted Voldemort dead as soon as possible. Realistically, it was probably impossible to kill him before the Triwizard champions were picked, especially if I refused to tell Dumbledore. I knew where all the Horcruxes were, of course, it was getting to most of them that would be the problem.

The Diary, already destroyed.

There was the Diadem, the easiest, languishing away in the room of Requirement.

Then the ring, hidden away in the house of Gaunt, which I knew the vague location of from my research.

The snake, near impossible to get to, created whenever Bertha Jorkins comes up dead or missing.

The locket, hidden away with Kreacher in Grimmauld Place.

The cup, in fucking Gringotts of all places.

Then Harry himself. The trickiest of all.

I had been researching that regularly, whenever I found clues to it during other research whatever I was doing was immediately dropped. I wasn't too hopeful for a miracle cure though. If Dumbledore of all people couldn't find it then there was hardly any chance I would either. But I spent too much time around the Doctor for giving up to be acceptable. And time was perhaps the issue here. Dumbledore probably didn't have much in the books between when he figured it out, and when he died. As it was I didn't have to waste my time searching for the others.

I really didn't want Harry to have to die, even if there was a chance that he could come back from it. But that can't be the only option. Transfer of a soul piece from one host to another should not be completely impossible, but not harming the original host would be tricky. I spent a lot of my time doing research, but I made sure to appear at meals at least once a day to keep the staff from staging an intervention.

It was during one of those mandatory breakfast appearances that I got a Ministry owl. It sat in my bacon, and not for the first time I questioned if it was sanitary for mail to arrive at mealtimes. Silence reigned. I opened the letter and the owl left, stealing some of my bacon as it went. I scowled after it, before waving my wand over the letter. When nothing happened I opened it, pulling out the letter and dropping the envelope.

Dear Miss Swift,

It has come to my attention that you enjoy the game of Quidditch. Please enjoy this ticket as a gesture of goodwill.

Cornelius Fudge

Minister of Magic

I dropped the short letter, note really, picking up the envelope and digging the small ticket out. I stared at it for a second. Excitement warring with dread and confusion. One, how the hell did he know? Who snitched on me (Pardon the pun)? Two, fuck yes, the pinnacle of all Quidditch talent. Three, fuck no, death eaters everywhere. But I'm not supposed to know that. It would be strange and weirdly out of character for me to miss for no reason, never mind stupidly suspicious. So, Quidditch death match here I come.

I narrowed my eyes at the ticket and saw Minerva crinkle her nose worriedly from beside me.

"What's the matter, Marissa? Shouldn't you be excited? This is an amazing opportunity after all."

I shrugged with one shoulder, placing the ticket aside and turning my attention back to my food.

"I don't know his angle. Guys like this don't do things for 'goodwill' or just for the hell of it. He wants something."

I tapped the table absentmindedly for a second, staring at the food. It really wasn't worth it anymore, it had bird ass-germs on it, or something. I stood abruptly, grabbing my things.

"Well, I have a little bit of time to think it over at least."

Back in my classroom, which I used as more of a living room than my actual rooms, opened the other mail I had gotten that morning. Usually I didn't open that kind of thing at the table, but Ministry shit tends to be time sensitive, and with Mollys I had recognized Erroll, who usually waited for a reply. When the owl left, I had worried for Percy's well being. He didn't use Erroll often, preferring his own Eagle owl. All in all, I had been tricked. Most likely on accident, which made it worse.

Harry, who had hesitantly started mailing me when he saw me more at the Burrow, outside of the School environment, had sent a rather rough looking letter. He was beyond excited, apparently the Ministry had provided Sirius two tickets as part of their reparations for unlawful imprisonment. He rambled on a bit about Quidditch and the stats and predictions for the game, finally ending it with a halfhearted question about something Muggle he couldn't quite explain properly to Sirius.

I wrote back immediately, detailing how I also had gotten a ticket, only one though, most likely also as reparation for what the Ministry had done to me. I felt kind of bad for blaming the ministry, especially since this time they actually hadn't done anything wrong. Well, much. Not to me anyway, not yet. But their threat of a mind wipe and abandonment with Muggles would have fucked me up badly, worse than if I had been a Muggle born, because I didn't exist here. I checked. My mother died at four years old.

I had a letter from Percy, more info from inside the Ministry, he apparently got wind that I was going to be given a ticket, but he got the info from his father. Therefore Molly knew. So I was to report to the Burrow for Breakfast that morning before traveling with them. I sometimes wondered how much she knew about me. It seemed like she knew I couldn't Apparate, and various other things about me. I hadn't old her, but Dumbledore might have for his own 'nefarious' reasons. Or Harry, or Sirius. Hell, Remus. Entirely too many people were aware of my 'condition' and that wasn't good for business.

My letter from Ginny said much the same as the last part of Percy's, haha, see you for breakfast, sorry my mother's strong-arming you into it.

The last letter was from Remus, just a casual correspondence. I read it through, regretting for half a second that I hadn't gotten an extra ticket like Sirius, but then I realized it would have been a dick move to drag him into it. And who knew when the hell on the lunar calendar the match fell.

I dropped a few of my more unnecessary projects, starting plans for the Cup. There was little I could really do except study defensive spells and dueling magic. I practiced non-stop in the room of requirement, blasting dummies apart. They were the death eater look alikes destined for use by Dumbledore's Army. They shot low level spells back, but it was nothing like having an actual sparring partner. But it's not like I could ask someone. Or maybe I could…I had visited the kitchens finally, getting Minerva to show me one day in between meals, in the food deadzone when nothing edible could be found elsewhere.

"Zoopy."

There was a deafening crack and a less wrinkled than normal house elf popped out of nowhere. I watched him do a little bow, eyes lighting up at the chance to help. I knelt down in front of him, putting gentle hands on his shoulders.

"Zoopy, I'm going to need some help from you, some very, very serious help. And you aren't going to like it."

I was right. He didn't like it. But I had chosen him for a reason. He was relatively young for a house elf, but knew how to keep a secret. Therefor he was easier to convince, and guaranteed to keep his silence. Had he been a wizard he would be Hufflepuff through and through, loyal little thing.

I had him stick to spells that wizards could use, or at least similar to what a wizard would use. He provided a vigorous workout. One I managed to convince him that I would need to be in combat sometime in the near future he had pulled out all the stops. Rather than firing at me from a stationary position he whirled around the room, popping up in random places, giving me barely a split second to figure out where he was and what he was tossing my way.

I only went to breakfast with the staff, rather than breakfast or dinner, never letting them see me scuffed up or the least bit frazzled. If I was tired in the mornings and someone commented I could say 'nightmares' and it was left alone. Zoopy was brilliant, but it wore on him after a while. After three straight weeks he was looking more frazzled than I was, even though I never threw spells at him, only at the targets he conjured for me to destroy. He just couldn't handle throwing spells at a Staff member, especially one who was always curteous.

It was two days until the Championships, so I stopped our practices, to his eternal relief. But he didn't leave me to it on my own. No, he straightened his lilac pillowcase, looking determined.

"Zoopy shall help Miss Mara."

I am not one to complain that fresh coffee is always within reach, or that laundry is done, or that there's someone to remind me that I have appearances to make in public. He also caught me many times before I walked out without long sleeves. I always gave him a small hug with that, and left him holding back joyful tears.

I was fitter than ever when I woke early the morning of the match, and it showed by how I was actually able to pull myself out of bed before Zoopy made good on his passive not-threat involving a bucket of water. I was still stumbling slightly when I went into the Floo, so naturally I was face first on the floor coming out of it. I just lay there for a second, contemplating life. And the color of the carpet. Ginny found me, sighing and calling back behind her,

"Found her, I think she fell asleep coming out of the Floo."

This was met with dead silence, and then I heard several footsteps coming our way, and someone nudged me, most likely with their foot. I groaned, lifting my hand weakly to flop my hand at them.

"No, no, I'm fine. Just...admiring the carpet, lovely color. I'll be up...momentarily."

Two individuals grabbed me by the arms, lifting me up. I sighed, opening my eyes to glare lightly at the twins. They were smirking slightly, and my expression automatically dropped to suspicious, eyes narrowing.

"What are you up to?"

They winked simultaneously, out of view of their mother, who was tutting at me.

"Oh, dear, Marissa, when did you even go to sleep?"
I blinked up at her,

"Ummmmmm…"

She didn't wait for me to come up with an answer, instead motioning towards the kitchen,

"Never mind, there's breakfast ready, if Ron hasn't gotten downstairs yet. There's tea and coffee-"

At the last word I might have broken the sound barrier, leaving a pair of blinking, confused twins staring at their now empty hands. When they entered I had already downed half a cup and was buttering a scone. I looked up at them, waving cheerily,

"Morning. Sorry, I'm not human until I've had my caffeine."

Sirius wandered into the room, looking rumpled and grumpy.

"Amen."

I grinned at him,

"Hey, Canine, not a morning person I see."
He was holding onto his coffee as if his life depended on it, and I could sympathise, I really could. He snorted, glaring at me half-heartedly,

"Why do you still call me Canine? I've told you a thousand times to call me Sirius."

I sat back in my chair, stirring sugar into my second cup of coffee, and smirking.
"I'm still not over the whole 'the stray dog is a human thing' so no, I can't stop."

He rolled his eyes,

"I confessed in the end, didn't I?"

The children exploded down the stairs, effectively ending our conversation. I watched them scurry around, enjoying the deer in headlights look I got from Hermione. I waved at her,

"Hello Miss Granger."

The fact that Hermione was the only one thrown off by the presence of a teacher cracked Ron up, leaving him open to a bacon swipe from the Twins. I guarded my scones viscously, whapping wrists indiscriminately. I think I got Arthur once. I know I got Sirius a grand total of seven times. Ominous number.

Then Arthur got a glimpse of the time, and rounded us up,

"Come on, gang, we have a ways to walk!"

I followed, watching everyone bounce with excitement, smiling on the outside. Inside I was freezing. There would be danger, death, torture. But I would be there, I would protect them the best I could. It was all I could offer at the moment. I watched Sirius where he walked a bit ahead of me, directly beside Harry. Things would be different with him here. He would protect Harry with every fiber of his being, risk his very soul for the boy. The fact that he rose early to portkey with him rather than apparate showed a bit of his commitment. I've heard portkeys suck ass. Then again, all magical transportation seems to be absolutely terrible, even if it's near instantaneous. I think I'd always, always, prefer travel by TARDIS.

~TimeLordOfPie