Disclaimer: I own the plot, I apologize if it's been done before. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.
AN: Hi! Real AN at the end! Enjoy!

Consanguina

by Jess S

Chapter 3: Lullaby's, Letters & Lectures

He was surrounded by darkness, pain, and terror.

Gleaming, crimson eyes, alight with loathing were searching for him, while their owner hissed his hatred…

Voldemort…

It was only fair…

After all, it was his fault that the Dark Lord had returned…

Millions of voices, screeching hate or terror surrounded him…

Darkness…

Terror…

Pain!

Hate…

PAIN! So much pain! Echoing through the whole of his being…

"Harry..." a new, strangely familiar voice broke into his thoughts, echoing throughout the dreamscape. "Harry… wake up, Harry… Harry!"

Wake up? If he were able to do that he would have done it as soon as this terrible nightmare started! He would have done that when he started having them, instead of his friends having to wake him to stop his screaming…

"Ennervate."

The spell caused the eyes of the Boy-Who-Lived to fly open, to see his sister standing alongside his bed, leaning over him, her bright green eyes displaying her unease.

"V-Vivian…?" he managed to gasp an inquiry.

With a sigh the witch waved her wand, murmuring something under her breath as she waved it at the glass of water on his bedside table. Her wand disappeared (once again he wondered offhand, 'How does she do that…?') as she picked the glass up, sitting down beside him.

He struggled to sit up, taken aback at the difficulty of it, particularly the pain blazing through his body. He was use to feeling tremendous pain from his scar, but the pain had never extended past that, at least not when he was awake!

"Here, drink this."

Harry turned back turned slightly toward his sister, and opened his mouth as she pressed the cool glass to his lips. The cool liquid seemed to flow into his being, dousing all of the pain with astonishing swiftness.

Just when Harry wasn't sure he'd be able to swallow any more of the liquid, the cup was withdrawn and placed on the bedside table, half-full.

"Are you all right?" his sisters soft, melodic voice inquired.

"…Yes…" Harry replied softly. He wasn't used to having someone beside him when he woke from his daily (or, actually, nightly) nightmares. The few times it'd happened in the infirmary had been one thing… but he honestly didn't have any idea how to proceed.

Vivian adjusted the covers so that they came up to just above his chin, then took a handkerchief and gently wiped his sweaty brow.

This continued for nearly a minute before Harry asked, "Aren't you going to ask me anything? What happened? Do I want to talk about it?..."

"Do you want me to?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Harry blinked, "N-no, not really…"

Vivian smiled slightly, "Then why should I?"

"W-well… everyone always…"

The witch shook her head, still offering a small, gentle smile, "Not everyone is the same, Harry. And I do believe you'd find, if you stayed in the house of any other Auror – at least any of the ones in my department – you'd find few questions asked…"

"…" Harry frowned, "Why?"

"Only those who have felt pain, anguish and remorse can truly understand it."

He blinked, surprised at the frankness of the statement, and how directly it suited the situation.

His sister smiled, "If you do ever want to talk about it, I'm always here."

Harry nodded.

She chuckled quietly at his bewildered look, before leaning down to place a gentle kiss on his temple and wrapping him in a warm enfold.

Harry stiffened slightly, and then slowly relaxed in his sister's embrace.

As she pulled back, she noticed his thoughtful expression. "What is it?"

He blinked, then reddened slightly. "Oh… nothing… it's just…"

She raised an eyebrow.

"…yourperfumesmellsfamiliar…"

She blinked, then laughed, not quite beaming.

"What?" he asked, "What is it?"

"Nothing… you should have seen the look on your face thought!" she smiled, shaking her head. "As to the familiarity… I'm not surprised…"

"What… why?"

"It's the same perfume Mother used…"

Harry blinked. "Mother…?"

Vivian nodded.

"But…" Harry shook his head, "…how would I remember that…? I was only… sixteen months old when Voldemort killed them!"

His sister shrugged, "It's surprising what the brain can remember, isn't it? Though not so much in you… until you met Mr. Hagrid on your eleventh birthday, you had not known much happiness, no?"

Harry nodded, still rather confused.

"When one is discontent, the mind often resorts to holding on to happy memories… which is why Azkaban is considered to be a such a perfect punishment for Wizarding criminals…"

Harry nodded, "Because the Dementors drain happiness out of you and take happy memories away…"

Vivian nodded, "Correct. It leaves the prisoners trapped within their minds, with only dark, unhappy thoughts." She shook her head, and smiled, "You should get some rest. It's still quite a few hours till dawn…"

Harry grimaced slightly, but quickly suppressed it, nodding. He started to turn on to his side, when a gentle hand stopped him.

"What is it?" came his sister's lilting voice.

He sighed, turning back to face her. He should have known one of the Ministry's finest Aurors wouldn't overlook things easily. "It's nothing…"

His sister only raised an elegant eyebrow.

Harry sighed once again, "It's… it's just that… I always have trouble getting back to sleep after my visions… wait… do you know–"

"About your connection to Voldemort and the increasing number of visions you've been having since his return?" she finished, "yes."

"But… how? I thought only Dumbledore knew about…"

"Did you forget Miss. Skeeter's wonderful articles already?" Vivian asked, clearly amused. She then frowned, "Her comments towards your sanity not withstanding, her descriptions made it relatively easy to figure out what was really going on…" she shook her head before admitting, "of course, I had suspected it before that."

"You did…?" Harry blinked, "how?"

"I've studied ancient magic a great deal more than most. My tutors had found a number of spells that Mother may have used to shield you… All of the spells resort to using the attacker's magic against them… The few cases on record showed that the ward gained a significant increase in some areas that could be linked to their attacker. Your ability as a Parselmouth confirmed that."

Harry was about to ask how she'd known about that prior to reading Skeeter's articles, but he suddenly felt very tired, and couldn't hold back a yawn. This action astonished him. He'd always wanted to have someone to talk to especially after the visions and nightmares, leaving him awake in the dark for many long, lonely hours… someone who would listen when he needed to talk… advise when he needed advice… and sometimes just be there… Now, he had that, and he wanted to go back to sleep!

"Rest now, little brother..." Vivian smiled, humming quietly as she brushed a gentle, pale hand across his brow, "All is well…" She then went from humming to singing quietly.

With a soft sigh the young wizard allowed his eyelids to droop and fell into a wonderfully dreamless sleep.

~ * ~

Vivian sighed as she finished singing the lullaby her mother had always sung to them, smiling down at her now sleeping baby brother. She rose to her feet, and after checking to make sure the covers were securely tucked under his chin, left the room, activating additional wards as she did so.

Harry would not be plagued by any nightmares tonight, she knew that he never suffered from more than one vision a night, and the concoction she'd slipped into his water would ensure that his subconscious remained dormant for the next few hours.

The Auror's high-heeled dragon-hide boots did not echo through the silent corridors, thanks – in part – to the exquisite Persian rugs she walked upon. She stopped a few feet away from Harry's room, grasping the golden knob of an apparently ancient oak door, and pulling it open.

She stepped through the doorway into the front parlor, giving a small tug on the door to make sure it would close, before releasing it. Had she turned around to ensure that the door had indeed closed, she would find that there was no door to the entrance she had just stepped through. But she did not turn, and instead crossed the parlor to another oak door, opening it and stepping into her study.

Vivian crossed to the desk, opening the window behind it before seating herself in the stylish chair that was there as well.

With a sigh, she took hold of the small silver bell on the desk, replacing it once it's gentle ring echoed through the room.

A moment later a house elf appeared. "You be wanting something mistress?"

"Yes, Laurel, isn't it?" seeing the house elf's nod, she continued. "I'd like a cup of tea, one milk, one sugar, if it's no trouble."

"Oh, none at all, mistress, none at all!" with that the little creature disappeared.

Vivian sigh, glancing out the window at the crescent moon that currently graced the sky, surrounded by millions of glittering stars.

"Mistress...?"

Shaking her head to escape her silent woes, she turned toward the tentative, smiling at the small house elf clad in a silk toga. After taking the chine teacup off the proffered tray she nodded, "Thank you, Laurel."

The house elf smiled brightly, "It is nothing, mistress. Are you wanting anything more?"

"No, thank you. You may go do as you please."

"If you need anything, mis–"

"I'll ring."

"Yes, mistress." With a deep curtsy the small servant disappeared.

Vivian shook her head, taking a sip from the porcelain cup before setting and the saucer on the desk. She turned back toward the open window, except this time it wasn't the moon that caught her eye, it was an owl, swooping down toward the window at high speed, a scroll in its grasp.

Vivian could tell at a glance that the avian creature was obviously a Malay Fish Owl, for although the creature was similar to the Eagle Owl – an owl that could be found all over Europe – in size, the similarity's ended there. The feathers on the small creature's head and face formed a distinct "V" shape. Its brown feathers were slightly paler on its underside. It's large yellow eyes blinked at her from its light brown facial disks as it landed on the perch placed strategically beside the window for such a purpose. Of course, this breed would probably strike another as odd, for the owl should not be found outside the wooded areas of the Indonesian islands, Thailand and Malaysia, but this was the Wizarding World; what could you expect?

Vivian raised an eyebrow at the peculiar breed, but did not hesitate in taking the envelope it carried from its talons. She pressed the familiar silver crest, which quickly disappeared, and then opened it.

It took less than a minute for her bright-green eyes to take in the elegant script, but it would be several hours before she would send a reply, as the first signs of predawn began to become apparent along the horizon.

~ * ~

The Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry did not appeared to be the least bit fazed by the wizard, Sirius Black, who most of the Wizarding world knew as an immoral and dangerous fugitive, pacing back and fourth in front of his desk.

"But how could you possibly not know anything?!" the anxious wizard demanded.

"Now, Sirius," the other Wizard replied before the Headmaster could, "You can't fault the Headmaster for this, he had no way of knowing–"

"But the wards were obviously flawed! They were set to protect Harry and now some dark wizard's kidnapped him! He may very well now be in You-Know–"

Remus interrupted his best friends rant a second time, "And the wards did work, for nearly fourteen-years. It was only inevitable that someone would eventually find a flaw in them, and exploit it." He shook his head, and was about to continued, but stopped as Dumbledore finally decided to speak.

"That is quite true, Remus," the older wizard shook his head, "but we cannot fault Sirius for his actions, everyone has a different way of handling grief, and worry."

Remus nodded in agreement, and after a moment Sirius took the seat next to him with a resigned sigh.

"As it is, I am very happy to be able to state that we do not believe Voldemort was behind young Harry's disappearance."

"Severus?" Remus asked, with a raised eyebrow.

Dumbledore nodded, "Yes, it seems that Voldemort is as disturbed by the boy's disappearance as we are, for the simple fact that he is not responsible for it. According to several members of the order, passive Death Eater activity has increased since Harry's disappearance and Severus had told me that it appears that discovering Harry's whereabouts has become Voldemort's top priority."

Before the other two wizards could reply the flames in the fireplace roared, calling the Headmaster to them.

"Yes?" Dumbledore inquired.

"May all of us come through Headmaster?" came Arthur Weasley's voice from the flames.

Dumbledore glanced back towards his current guest, to see Remus nod, and Snuffles curled up on the chair Sirius had been sitting in. With a nod he turned back to the fire, "Of course."

A moment later the flames rose to allow Mr. Weasley to step into the Headmaster's office, quickly followed by the rest of his family.

"Well?" Ron demanded, looking at the Headmaster beseechingly.

Dumbledore sighed, "I am afraid that the order has made little progress since yesterday afternoon… We can only hope the Ministry faired better…"

Ron snorted quietly, but chose to remain quiet otherwise.

The Headmaster smiled slightly at the person beside him, "Ahh, Miss Granger, so glad you could join us."

Hermione smiled faintly, "Thank you, Professor. There really hasn't been any news?" She asked, looking slightly hopeful.

"None that I am aware of," was his reply. "You will be staying with the Weasley's?"

Hermione nodded, "My parents agreed that it was probably for the best."

Dumbledore nodded, "It very well may be…" he sighed, and shook his head, "Now, I believe the others should be here soon," he paused, and a moment later the door opened, admitting the House Heads, "ahh, there you all are."

The Professors nodded in greeting, and everyone found seats around the room. The Potions Master seemed to believe that he was above glaring at the Grim-like dog in the chair in front of the Headmasters desk, which was growling at him.

"Has there been any news, Albus?" Professor McGonagall inquired worriedly.

"As I was just informing the Weasley's," he replied with a sigh, "The Order has not had any success in locating young Harry or discovering anything related to who might have abducted him."

"What about You-Know-Who?" Fred – or maybe it was George – asked nervously.

Professor Snape shook his head slightly and Dumbledore sighed, "It seems Lord Voldemort is as bewildered by this series of events as we are, which makes the situation all the more puzzling…"

There was a burst of green flame from the fireplace, and a moment later both Mad-Eye Moody and Arabella Figg stood in the Headmasters office.

Arabella raised an eyebrow, "I beg your pardon, are we late?"

"No, no," Dumbledore smiled, "not at all. Please," he gestured to two of the three remaining vacant seats.

"Thank you." Arabella replied, sitting down. She looked around, "Vivian's not here yet, then?"

Another roar from the fireplace overrode any response to her inquiry.

Vivian stepped out of the green flames, and smiled at the seated assembly. She shook her head, "It seems I'll have to work on my timing, I can't ever seem to show up on time!"

Moody laughed, a sound that made many of the younger wizards shiver, "Don't worry about that, Potier. You're as prompt as ever."

Vivian smiled at the older Auror, before taking the last vacant seat. "Have I missed anything?" she asked, looking around.

"No," Dumbledore shook his head, and released another sigh, "I was just explaining that we haven't been able to find anything. Have you had any more luck?" he asked, glancing at the three Aurors.

Both Arabella and Moody shook their heads.

Arabella sighed, "We couldn't find anything more at the boy's relatives house," she snorted, shaking her head. "Not that we had much time, they practically threw us out as soon as they knew we weren't there to harm them!" She glanced at Vivian, "I don't suppose you faired any better? You said you'd check back there."

Vivian laughed, "Yes, though I checked back there before you. I went there soon after leaving the meeting yesterday. His uncle and cousin really are awful conceited, aren't they?" she shook her head, "The only thing I found was that whoever was there yesterday was very good at Apparation, and they must have quite a few contacts in high positions, or be rather highly ranked in the Ministry themselves."

"How do you know that?" Ron asked the question that was on every ones minds.

Vivian sighed, "The Ministry wards were down from midnight to midday, the day Mr. Potter was kidnapped–"

"What?!" Ron cried, outraged, as many in the room appeared to be, "Why? Did that great big git Fud–"

"The department was rerouting the Floo network in that area," Vivian interrupted him smoothly, "they do that every now and then."

"Why would they need to take the wards down?" Hermione asked nervously.

Vivian smiled at her reassuringly. "In order to reroute the network – a form of travel – they needed to make sure there was as little interference as possible – quite routine – it cuts the time they have to work on the project to the bare minimum. With the wards up it could take anywhere from a week to a month. With them down it took a little under twenty-four hours." She sighed, "Only someone in the department, or someone who follows every operation the Ministry handles on a daily basis could have known about it, unless they had a contact."

"But," Arabella shook her head, "don't they usually have someone watch warded areas when the wards are lowered?"

The younger Aurors face darkened. "Indeed… it would appear that one Auror, Macnair, was given that assignment, with the help of a member of the Misuse of Magic Department… Hopkirk, I think it was. Ms. Hopkirk, a close friend of the Minister, left her shift early; apparently, she didn't consider it an significant obligation to be assigned to…"

"Macnair?" Arabella blinked, "... I thought he was on the Committee for the disposal of Magical creatures."

Vivian nodded, "Walden Macnair is, his younger brother; Antonin, was an Auror."

"...was?" Ginny repeated in a small, inquiring voice.

"What happened to him?" George – or maybe it was Fred – added.

"He's dead." She replied, "Avada Kedavra."

Everyone in the room stiffened.

Hermione gasped, "Harry's kidnapper killed him?"

Vivian glanced at her, "That is quite possible."

~ * ~

Harry yawned, coming down the stairs in casual summer robes, pale blue over gray. Entering the nearest parlor, he was somewhat surprised to see his aunt sitting at the desk by the window. He was surprised for a number of reasons. One, he still wasn't used to the fact that his aunt was nice and liked being in a Wizarding home... Two, she was attired in a casual, blue dress that went down to her ankles, sandals adorning her feet. He was so used to seeing her in strictly ordinary (and exceptionally dull) Muggle attire, partially covered by an apron, that the sight was somewhat bewildering. The dress complimented her thin frame, making it look willowy; emphasizing a slender waist while concealing rather angular legs in the graceful, silky folds of her skirt. Her hair was no longer quite as lifeless as it had once been, now bearing a slight, attractive shimmer as it was pulled up into an elegant French-braid.

At that moment, his aunt glanced up, and happened to see his reflection in the mirror. She turned to him with a soft smile, "Good morning, Harry. Did you sleep well?"

Still slightly taken aback by her open friendliness, the young wizard hesitated before replying. "Yes Aunt Petunia, thank you."

She nodded, offering him another smile – and Harry noted, with some surprise, that her blue eyes, like her hair, were no longer quite as dull as they had been previously–, before turning back to the desk.

After a moments pause, the young wizard walked over to his aunt, glancing at the paper work that she was currently reading through. "What's that?" he asked curiously.

Aunt Petunia glanced at him offering another small, warm smile. "Divorce papers."

"What?!"

~ * ~

Vivian sighed, more than a little annoyed by the seemingly endless chatter that currently filled the Headmasters office, as it had for the past several hours. Touched as she was by their obvious concern for her little brother's well being, she knew that this bothered her simply because if Harry had actually been kidnapped, this would solve nothing.

Her attention was drawn back to the present by a slight tremble from an object on her wrist. She knew immediately what it was, and frowned, glancing at what most would mistake as a nice, interestingly bejeweled bracelet.

"Is something wrong, Vivian?" the Headmaster inquired, catching her sudden change in focus. His comment also caused the others to stop bickering and focus on the young Auror.

'Well, at least it got them to shut up,' she thought, but her expression was void as she replied, "I'm not entirely sure, may I use your fire?"

"Of course," Dumbledore nodded, gesturing calmly.

With an ease and grace that most would not believe possible after sitting in the same chair for nearly six hours, Vivian rose to her feet, and glided over to the fireplace. Once there, she took a pinch of some multi-colored powder from a small sack – that had suddenly appeared in her hand – into the fire. She then pointed her wand – which had somehow replaced the sack – at the fire and murmuring some unintelligible Latin words. The fire (which had turned white when the powder was added) now began taking many shades as it grew in height. After a moment it could be described as a small person dressed in and made of multi-colored flames.

A quiet voice – which somehow seemed to be many voices at once – spoke. "You summoned us... Mistress... What is your command...?"

"A word with Riatanya Willow, please."

"Very well... Mistress..." and the figure collapsed into multi-colored, but otherwise apparently normal flames, once again.

"What's that?" Ginny asked.

Vivian didn't turn. "Ignigenae powder, a wonderfully useful form of communication, if a bit costly..."

"Why can't you just use a regular fire sending?" Hermione inquired.

This time Vivian did glance back at them, offering a slight smile. "Because a fire sending requires two fires. An Ignigena sending requires only one... it can use any other form of appurtenance on the other side..."

"Like what?" Hermione persisted.

"Oh... make-up kits, some other form of mirror, silver-ware, china, whatever they're drinking, glasses, and, if there's no other choice, even the air before them." Before any of them could reply she turned back to the fire, and smiled as the tiny image of a young woman in Aurors robes appeared. "Ah, Ria, you called?"

"Yes," the image replied, "I hope I was not interrupting...?"

"Of course not. What did you find?"

"Something that I'm rather certain you'll find very interesting... I'll send it over..."

Vivian nodded, "Very well," she replied, stepping back from the fire.

A moment later the fire turned completely white again and rose up. When the flames receded a large envelope of the Muggle fashion was left in its place, hovering above the flames surrounded by a faint white glow.

Vivian raised an eyebrow, taking the envelope in hand, as the flames became multicolored once again, the same small projection in their core.

"I found this at the Muggle courthouse near Surrey, London," the witch in the fire continued, while Vivian opened the envelope, "It arrived at eleven o'clock this morning. I have already tested it."

Vivian raised an eyebrow a second time as her eyes skimmed the contents of the first Muggle document. "How very curious..." she murmured, before glancing up at the fire and nodding, "Thank you, Ria. Well done... Are you having any luck on the Macnair case?"

The projection shook its head, "No, none at all."

"Very well," Vivian smiled, "Keep up the good work."

The figure in the flames bowed before disappearing, the white flames slowly returning to their normal shade and hue.

"What is it?" Ginny asked curiously.

"Hmm?" Vivian glanced up, and smiled slightly. "It seems we may not need to worry about Mr. Potter's health after all, simply his location."

"What?" Professor Snape's voice broke the startled silence. "What do you mean?"

"Out of curiosity," Vivian inquired, "many of you have met Mr. Potter's relatives, yes?"

All of the Weasleys' nodded, as did a few of the teachers.

"You stated previously," Vivian turned to Ron, "that Mr. Potter was unhappy with his relatives?"

Ron nodded, "Yeah, they hate him, th–"

"Oh, do they?" Vivian raised an eyebrow, "Are you sure?"

After a confused silence, Mr. Weasley spoke up, "I've only met Harry's relatives once, and they truly did not seem to have any fondness for him..."

"Hmm..." Vivian shook her head, "Curious..."

"What's curious?" Ginny asked.

"These," Vivian indicated the documents in her hand, "are divorce papers. Apparently Mrs. Dursley – or should I say – Miss Evans, was not... happy in her marital situation... The divorce is set entirely to paper work, it won't go to court unless Mr. Dursley objects... which is unlikely, considering she left everything to her ex-husband and her son, with the exception of her nephew's guardianship."

"What?!" the Weasleys yelped.

~ * ~

Harry sighed, shaking his head at one of his Potions books, Magical Drafts and Potions.

"Problem, Harry?"

Harry's glanced up, "Hi, Aunt Petunia..."

The blonde made her way over to the sitting area in the manor library, sitting herself beside her nephew. "What's wrong?"

"What?" Harry blinked, "Oh... it's nothing... I'm just having a little trouble with my Potions homework..."

"Is there anything I could do to help?" she asked.

"Not really..." Harry sighed, "The main problem I have is that I don't like the subject, so I always have trouble with the work..."

"Why?"

"What?" Harry blinked for a second time.

"Why don't you like the subject?" she asked.

"Oh... well... the teacher doesn't really like me... he hated my dad... and he thinks I'm spoiled by my 'fame'... so he always gives me a hard time..." Harry sighed.

Aunt Petunia sighed, "Here, let me see..."

Shrugging, Harry handed her the textbook.

Petunia scanned the page and after a moment a look of rather intense dislike crossed her features. "Ugh... this looks a little too much like chemistry for my taste!" she sighed, "So the problem you have is that you don't like the class?"

Harry nodded.

"Or is it that you don't have any respect for how the subject effects you?"

The teen frowned.

"That was the problem I had with chemistry... I thought it was all complete nonsense – couldn't be used for anything... until I didn't follow directions one day, which resulted in an explosion that destroyed half of the lab... Mother and Father were furious..." she sighed, "I didn't learn to appreciate it until years later... when I realized what its purpose was..."

"What is it?" Harry asked, curious.

"Life..." she sighed, "Where do you think medicine comes from? I should think even Wizarding medications apply to the same theory... all forms of medicine... aspirin, penicillin, antibiotics, vaccines... they're things many unconsciously depend on every day, and they're all thanks to chemistry..." She raised an eyebrow, "I assume the Wizarding world has similar circumstances...?"

Harry thought about it for a moment, then nodded. Yes, they did depend on potions, all the time. Sure, Madame Pomfrey could mend broken bones with a flick of her wrist, but she had to use Skel-Gro in order to grow them back.

"Well then, that's one step..." she rose to her feet, "I'll see if I can find anything useful..."

Harry shook his head as his aunt disappeared into the many bookcases... unconsciously noting that Hermione would probably like to talk with this version of his aunt, almost as much as she'd adore the Potter library.

A few minutes later, Aunt Petunia returned. "Here try this," she said, handing him a novel that looked decidedly ancient. "I'll go and fetch some tea and something to eat..."

Harry nodded with a smile, "Thank you, Aunt Petunia."

"Your welcome, Harry," she smiled before turning, if Harry's hearing wasn't as sharp as it was, he probably wouldn't have heard her murmur, "I only wish I could do more..."

Harry sighed, shaking his head. He liked this version of his aunt a great deal, but it was hard to get used to. He turned back to the book she'd handed him; Potente Potions, and opened it to the first page, which read:

A traditional Wizard must often brew potions for various purposes. This form of magical art is closely linked to the magical properties of various herbs. Ingredients vary, may it be spices, the roots of various plants, or an attribute of a magical creature.

One of the most potent ingredients of ancient times was trifolium, also known as the satyrion root, which is mentioned in many ancient texts, 'Satyricon' by the ancient Roman author Petronius, being one of them. There appears to be no modern equivalent of the root, although sometimes the root of a particular orchid is labeled as satyrion root, it is not exact the same. Another root, which is used for similar purpose, though it is not quite as potent, is the ever-perilous Mandrake root.

Wizards need to take care that their potions did not have adverse side effects. If one ingredient is inaccurate, the results may be disastrous. In the best possible scenario, the reaction will be immediate and easily caught. Perhaps it will result in an explosion, which, while dangerous to the brewer, is much preferred to the possibility of causing the drinker of the potion harm... Which is quite possible, considering that many potent ingredients are often poisonous, and therefore neutralized with another ingredient, if the poison is not neutralized, then the potion will certainly do more harm that good. It is for this reason that Potions Masters are often very severe with pupils. Few possess an inborn talent for potion making, but certain aspects of the art can be learned, with the appropriate perseverance. Also, ingredients for potions are often rather expensive, as many precautions must be taken to ensure that ingredient is the right one and that it is not affected by an unknown factor.

"How's it going?"

Harry blinked and looked up. "Wha–? Oh!" he shrugged, and smiled at his aunt as she walked over to him once again, this time bearing a tray with tea and cookies.

She set the tray on the table in front of them, pouring tea for both of them. Without asking she added milk to both of them and half a lump of sugar. She then handed the cup with the sugar to Harry.

Harry blinked, "...how did you know I like tea this way?"

Petunia looked up, blinked, then blushed lightly. "Oh I'm sorry! I should have asked!"

"That's alright," he replied, taking a sip, "it's very good, but how did you know?"

"Oh, both your mother and Vivian always took tea that way, well Vivian's taste may have changed, I just assumed you were the same..." She shook her head, "Foolish really, you could have had your fathers preference." She wrinkled her nose, clearly she didn't agree with that 'preference'.

"Why?" he asked, "How did my Dad take his tea?"

Another feminine voice replied, "Two milks, one cinnamon and one lemon, no sugar, never cream."

Both turned toward the door as Vivian entered with a smile.

"What are you two up to?" she asked, sitting down on the settee across from them.

"We're trying to make Potions seem worthwhile." Harry replied, his face perfectly straight.

Vivian blinked, "Trying to…?" she laughed, shaking her head, "Ah yes, now I remember. You and Professor Snape don't relate very well to one another, do you?"

Harry remained silent.

Vivian shook her head, "Honestly, I'd think that's be enough of a reason to do exceptionally well in the class."

Harry frowned, "Why?"

"Well," Vivian replied, stirring half a lump of sugar into her tea, having already added the milk. "Professor Snape is rather difficult to impress, no doubt. He's somewhat of a protégé in potions. Very much enthralled with his profession."

Harry snorted.

Vivian smiled, "Or at least with Potion making, perhaps not so much with the teaching, though you might be surprised." She suggested, raising an eyebrow, "As I was saying, there is nothing he respects more than the ability to make potions. Performing poorly in his class is only a way for him to justify demeaning you, if you showed some skill and interest in Potions, even if you need to force it – though honestly I always found it rather interesting – he may not like you, but at the very least, he couldn't help but respect you on some level." She shook her head, "Enough lecturing, how's your homework coming?"

Harry shrugged, "I finished Charms, Potions is proving difficult."

"What was your assignment?" the witch asked, taking a sip from the delicate, china teacup.

Harry sighed, "A twelve foot essay on the Ilnwalya Potion." He shook his head, "I don't even know where to begin…"

"Tarya'Ilnwalya, hmm?" Vivian smiled, setting her teacup back on her saucer. "I should think that'd be easy enough. It is a rather complex potion, for a multifaceted problem, with plenty of examples of what can go wrong with it, should it be brewed incorrectly."

"But that's just I," the wizard sighed once again, frustrated, "I don't understand any of that!"

"Do you know what Ilnwalya is used for?"

Harry nodded, "It's an antidote for unquall-unqualeck–"

"Unqualekaimasse?" Vivian shook her head, "close, but not quite. Tarya'Ilnwalya is the vaccine for Kaimasse, a defense, not a solution. There's at least one whole foot of parchment in that distinction, for it is an important one."

"What?" Harry blinked, "Why?"

Vivian raised an eyebrow, "Well, it certainly isn't a good idea to give someone infected with an extremely hazardous, even lethal illness, more of that illness." Seeing his confused look, she went on to explain; "a vaccine is a small dose of an illness, given to a patient to help their immune system build up a resistance to that particular illness. If you give it to them when they already have the illness, it won't do them any good, and may very well do them severe harm."

Harry nodded his understanding. Then, he blinked, "The actual disease is in the vaccine?"

Vivian nodded, "Yes, that, combined with how pricey many of the other essential ingredients, is why it's so dangerous to make. That danger should take at least three feet, listing and explaining the other ingredient; several more." She smiled, "You see, twelve feet isn't that hard."

Harry sighed.

"Irritating, yes," the witch allowed, "but certainly not impossible. Introduction and conclusion; one foot, an analysis of Unqualekaimasse itself; two feet, the distinction between Tarya'Ilnwalya; the vaccine, and an antidote; one foot, plus the fact that there is no known antidote–"

"There isn't?" the wizard asked.

She nodded, "Yes, no antidote, there is Almaarea'Kuile, which can be used to assist a victims immune systems and whatnot, but no actual antidote. That would another foot… Hmm, perhaps some background info on the Potion's Masters who researched the disease – Darzinski and Zigur, I think it was – that should be about two more feet. An accurate paraphrasing of Darzinski's procedure for brewing Almaarea' would be at least two feet," seeing his doubting look, she waved her wand, murmuring, "Accio," and a think leather-bound text flew to her outstretched hand, the table shook; making the tea set rattle, when she half-dropped, half-placed the antique text on the coffee table. "This is Darzinski's procedure, Harry."

Harry's eyes widened, "All that?"

"Um-hmm," Vivian nodded, opening the manual carefully.

Harry eyed the first page, which was labeled; "Quam Abe Conficio Almaarea'Kuile by Erick Darzinski". He shook his head, "That'd have to take at least ten feet!"

"Undoubtedly," Vivian agreed, "However, I don't recommend it, it's quite dry." She waved her wand, muttering "Accio," a second time, summoning a smaller text. "Here," she said, handing him the scroll.

"What's this?" Harry asked, accepting it.

"A report I wrote on Almaarea a few years back, to receive my masters."

"Your what?" Harry blinked.

"My degree in Potions." She replied, then blinked, "Oh wait," she tapped the text with her wand, murmuring "Convertere," then smiled, "Now you should be able to read it."

"Why couldn't I've read it before."

"Can you read French?"

"Oh… no."

Petunia shook her head, while taking a sip of tea and smiling over the sibling bonding she now observed.

~ * ~

Several hours later, when the moon hung high in the sky, Vivian found herself, once again, at her brother's bedside. "Harry… Harry!"

Once again, bright green eyes snapped open to meet an identical pair of emerald orbs.

Vivian sighed, offering him a glass of what, this time containing only light calming potion, instead of a painkiller, as he didn't seem to be suffering from the aftershocks of the Cruciatus.

Seeing the sheer exhaustion in the younger wizard's brilliant gaze, she smiled softly, once again brushing a hand across his brow, so lightly that he could barely feel it, and murmured; "Rest now, little brother; all is well…" before singing the familiar lines of her mother's lullaby once again, sending him away from the world of the waking.

When he finally relaxed completely, his breathing slowed, showing that he was truly asleep, she slipped another phial out of her robes, gently nudging his mouth open and pouring its contents in, gently running a hand down his throat several times, until he swallowed.

She then rose to her feet, leaving the room again, the phial was returning to one of the many holders on the inside of her robe. She made her way down the silent corridors in silence, only stopping to instruct one of the house elves that she was not to be disturbed until predawn, with the exception of an emergency.

~ * ~

Late the next morning, Harry found his sister and his aunt discussing current events, both Wizarding and Muggle, over tea in the parlor.

"Good morning, Harry," Vivian greeted him, drawing a blink of surprise from the younger Potter, seeing as her back was to the door, and she therefore hadn't seen him enter.

"How'd you know I was here?" he asked. He hadn't thought he'd made much noise…

Vivian laughed turning toward him with a smile, "Come, have a seat," she gestured toward the vacant chairs around the room. When he obliged, she handed him a cup of tea; already prepared. "Drink, it will help you come around." She ordered, when he made to protest, "As to your question; you may notice, that there are times before an attack, or an accident, or something of that nature, when you sense danger. That premonition is fairly common in the Wizarding world. With practice you can learn to sense and recognize the presence of others. I have been around you enough to recognize your presence." She took a sip of her tea before continuing. "I am also an Auror, and some would say a politician, over the years my foresight has been exceptionally necessary, so now it's basically always on. So, I knew that the person approaching was no threat, and, as you and Aunt Petunia are currently the only guests I have, Aunt Petunia sitting right beside me, and I none of the many sensors around the Manor have gone off, so all the wards are still in place, therefore, you are the only person who could be coming."

"Oh," Harry blinked, "Ok…"

His sister chuckled, shaking her head, "Sorry, I'm not used to having company that I can trust completely, I don't mean to chatter."

Petunia laughed, "That's quite alright, dear. What are your plans today?"

Harry smirked, "Are you going to work a little more on your case?"

"No," Vivian laughed, "I think I'll give your friends and teachers a day to process what we've already given them, while I investigate a little more, of course." She smiled, "I generally train on Sundays."

"Train?" Petunia queried.

"Magically and physically," she explained. "I have a large training room here, as well as a maze, and an arena."

"An arena?" Harry asked.

"Yes," the Auror nodded, "modeled after the Roman Coliseum."

"…Why?"

She shrugged, "I wanted one. And it is actually rather useful. On the rare occasions I have enough guests here, it's wonderful for Quidditch, picnics, etc. And, of course, it's useful for dueling preparation, and actual duels, if they can be scheduled here."

They stared at her.

"Dueling?" Petunia squeaked.

"Um-hmm," Vivian nodded, taking another sip of tea.

Harry raised an eyebrow, "Scheduled?"

"Oh yes," she nodded again. "Nowadays there aren't many who are actually good duelists, but some time back, that wasn't true. Many pureblood families still hold to those traditions. You have a problem with someone; you challenge them to a duel. Even today, many of those traditions are still in place in the government, though not everyone knows about them; Fudge certainly doesn't."

"What'd you mean?" Harry asked, curious.

"Fudge manages to upset to many witches and wizards who are known as practiced duelists, some of the expert level, to really know the taboo's of the ancient Wizarding world."

"Like what?"

"For example, the only reason Fudge respects me, is because he knows the majority of the Ministry does, and he fears me, because he knows I'm a good duelist, who is completely cold blooded in combat, which I am." She affirmed, when Harry opened his mouth to object, "I wouldn't be here now if I wasn't… He does not, however, respect me and strive to make sure I am not particularly displeased with him because he knows I have the legal right to relieve him of his office, should I believe him to be incompetent."

"You can?" Harry asked.

She nodded, "I'm an Auror General; five stars, Order of Merlin; First Class. There are only a few others within the Ministry who equal me in rank, there is only one rank higher then me; militarily, and no one holds that position."

[AN: The ranks and everything are based on the U.S. military.]

Harry blinked once more, "You're a general?" he frowned, "but… you don't actually work in an army, do you?"

"The Department of Magical Law Enforcement is the Britain's Wizarding military. The Aurors are the only specifically combat-trained group it has. The ranks are as such, even though we don't always work in that manor. Generally, we serve in small teams, pairs, or solo, on whatever missions we're needed for. It's become somewhat of a custom over the years, that if you handle so many 'special assignments', which is what I've done for most of my career, the first time you handle a particularly dangerous SA you're given an Order of Merlin, either third or second class, depending on the risk involved. The next time, you're moved up to First Class. There aren't that many people with an Order of Merlin; First Class, therefore everyone knows who they are, and when they do more; everyone expects them to be rewarded. So, when they're an Auror, they're given a star, that star had to mean something, so they also add a rank; brigadier general. Another star; major general. Third star; lieutenant general. Fourth star; full general."

"What's it mean?"

"I believe, within the Muggle military, those ranks are quite a bit more demanding, but in the Wizarding world," Vivian shrugged, "it just means that Aurors of lesser rank have to listen to you, and other witches and wizard do too."

Aunt Petunia frowned, "Isn't there a rank above full general?"

"Hmm?" Vivian blinked, "Oh! Yes, there is. I believe the Muggle term is; General of the Army…" she shrugged, "very few people ever make it that far. The Ministry has always been careful about a fifth star." She shook her head, "Anyway, I was wondering if you'd care to join me, Harry?"

Harry blinked, "Join you? … In training, you mean?"

Vivian nodded, "Yes. As I understand it, there hasn't been that much structure in your DADA training. Considering Voldemort's return, you should have more training, and I'd be happy to tutor you."

Harry nodded, "Sure, why not?" he paused, considering, then asked; "Do you know who the new DADA will be?"

Vivian shook her head, "Dumbledore hasn't received any offers… but don't worry, you won't be without DADA in your fifth year."

"How do you know?" he asked.

The witch shrugged, "If no one offers, I'll just ask one of my people to take the job."

Harry blinked, "Oh," then something seemed to occur to him.

"What is it?" Vivian asked.

"Could you take the position?"

The Auror blinked, "Hmm…" she frowned, "I never thought of that… maybe," she shrugged.

"Have you ever taught before?" Aunt Petunia asked.

"Yes, actually," Vivian replied, "At Beauxbatons I was Assistant Prof. in Potions one year, and DADA in another. They were part of my Masters. Well," she set her now empty teacup down, meeting Harry's eyes. "Shall we?"

Harry blinked, "What?"

"Train."

"Oh! Right… sure." Harry agreed hurriedly setting his empty cup down and rising.

Vivian also rose, with a more grace, she smiled at her aunt, "If you'll excuse us, Aunt Petunia?"

The older woman waved her hand, "Run along you two, I'm sure I can find something for amusement."

The witch laughed, "Try not to bother the house elves again," she replied, receiving a half-hearted scowl in response, before leading her brother out of the parlor.

~ * ~

Lord Voldemort glared at the members of his inner circle. "How is it that Harry Potter, undoubtedly the most famous wizard of his generation, could simply vanish off the face of the Earth?" he demanded, not expecting an answer; for no one would dare speak in his presence without explicit permission. "How is it that none of you have any idea of where he may be?! Severus!"

A dark robed, and masked Severus Snape stepped forward, "Yes, my lord?"

"Are you certain that that Muggle-loving old fool has no idea of where his Golden Boy is?"

"Yes, my lord," Snape nodded, glad that he could actually tell the truth. The Dark Lord was rarely as angry as he was right now, it was hard to concentrate under his demonic glare, Snape didn't doubt he could've lied, if need be, he had for years, but it was a relief not having to. "Dumbledore had no idea whatsoever, he has all of his contacts searching, and the entire staff working double time, but we have found nothing… The Aurors assigned to the case are the only ones making any progress, and even that is diminutive."

"I see," Voldemort hissed, caressing his pet snake; Nagina's [sp?] head. "These Aurors are…?"

"Alastor Moody, Arabella Figg and Vivian Potier." The Professors replied promptly, he hadn't wanted to endanger them, but he had expected the question, and it really wasn't necessary to put himself on the line for them; all three were Aurors, they could take care of themselves.

"Hmmm…" Voldemort leaned back in his throne, now appearing thoughtful.

Severus barely suppressed a shiver, that was the same look the Dark Lord had had on his face the night he declared the Potter's his next target… it hadn't appeared quite so dangerous then, but, then again, he'd been a handsome man then, just past his prime; now he looked nothing short of demonic.

"Potier…" Voldemort frowned, "She is the one responsible for many of our missing allies, yes?"

Severus only just managed to repress a frown at this; he hadn't realized the Dark Lord already knew of the young Auror, who he'd actually come to respect. She possessed both of Slytherins key traits, after all; ambition and cleverness, and plenty of charm to conceal both. Of course, there was something oddly familiar about her to, he hadn't been able to place... "I do not know, milord, I have not researched her career…"

"She is, my lord." The voice of Lucius Malfoy came from behind him.

"Ah, yes, Lucius," Voldemort nodded, "I trust you have been following her movements?"

"At your command, my lord. She has turned aside all cases not related to Potters, and currently has her workforce hard at work on the case."

"What cases are connected to it?"

"The death of Antonin Macnair is the only one, my lord."

"Ah yes," the Dark Lord frowned, "then perhaps we should leave her to her work for the time being, if only to find out what happen to our young associate." He nodded, "I trust Dumbledore will soon notice your absence, Severus, you may go, return when you have more to report."

Snape bowed, silently seething at Malfoy's actions. He would have to tell Albus of this, perhaps the Headmaster could warn Potier of the Dark Lords interest. He'd known she was a highly respected Auror and was known for her skill in dueling, he hadn't known that skill had come from executing Death Eaters.

As he was departing, he couldn't hear Malfoy's report, but he heard the Dark Lords responses.

"Very well, I want you to keep an eye on the young protégé; discern her weaknesses and strengths. Find out if she knows anything more of that she hasn't informed the Muggle-lover of…"

Malfoy was talking quietly.

The Dark Lord continued, "Yes, I understand she is dangerous. If you should find an opportunity to remove that threat, exploit it… Yes, you may go Lucius, keep me informed."

Not bothering to repress a grimace, Severus Apparated into an ally in Hogsmeade, removed his mask, and then made his was back to Hogwarts, to report.

~ * ~

Vivian shook her head and stopped outside of a door that looked rather old, even in comparison to its practically ancient surrounding, and turned the ancient gold and silver doorknob, giving the door a slight nudge. That nudge was all that was needed for the door to open on it's own, admitting the two wizards.

Harry followed his sister into the room. It was a rather large room, and obviously meant for training in various forms of combat. There were black mats on the floor in one of the far corners of the room, there was a table and two chairs in the other far corner, several weapon racks all around the room, a few bookcases were along the wall nearest them, and all of the walls bore mirrors. He jumped when he felt a rush of air from behind him and turned in time to see the door shut on its own.

He turned to his sister, eyes a little wider than usual.

Vivian chuckled, "You'll find that the Manor can and does do many things of its own accord, I know it may seem odd, but many old Wizarding estates are like that. It's wonderfully helpful, and it makes life so much easier to just tell the Manor to change shape, rather than walking through many winding corridors."

Harry blinked, "Is that how you can move through the Manor so quickly?"

"Yes," she nodded, "It obeys the commands of its family..." she sighed, "had you been raised here, you'd find it was almost second nature to you. As you become more and more comfortable here... when you truly feel that the Manor is your home, or at least one of them, it will come naturally."

He nodded, "That makes sense..."

After a moment, Vivian smiled again, "Now, shall we begin?" she asked, raising an eyebrow and gesturing to the room around them.

Harry nodded again, "What exactly are we going to do?" he asked, looking around, fighting to hold back a gulp as he noticed the well kept, sharp blades that adorned the weapon racks.

Vivian gave a quiet laugh, "I'm going to be teaching you a wide variety of things this summer. I obviously can't turn you into a full-fledged Auror over the summer; I have no doubt you will one-day reach that level, that takes years. However, I can train you well enough to ensure that you are capable of defending yourself and others with reasonable proficiency, and give you some ability in dueling, at least enough to survive a duel without relying on luck. We will of course cover curses and counter curses, but we will also be working on martial arts, some weaponry, I may introduce you to some of that elemental magic's, and maybe some wandless magic, as well as healing techniques and spells."

"Martial arts... and weaponry?" Harry repeated, and frowned, "I thought Wizarding duels were always with wands..."

"Yes," Vivian nodded, "they are. But that doesn't mean you shouldn't receive training in other areas as well, there are some magical techniques and spells that apply to martial arts and weaponry, the fighting arts are good to know. In situations where you aren't supposed to use magic, it's nice to know you're not completely helpless, and furthermore, many of the techniques in Wizarding dueling correspond to many techniques and styles in martial arts, and fencing.... We will train a little every day, and I expect you to practice daily. The phrase 'practice makes perfect' is all too true in these arts. You really have to train your body to be familiar with the moves and techniques to be any good in combat, and that means continual repetition..." she raised an eyebrow, "with me so far?"

Harry nodded, "Yeah... but... doesn't it take years of training to be any good at any of the Muggle fighting arts, too?"

"Yes," she nodded, "and no. To be an actual martial artist, you'd have to train for at least a decade, probably longer... and I couldn't teach you, I'm good enough, but not that good. You just want to be good enough to feel comfortable with the techniques... You need to learn how to defend and attack without your wand. The vast majority of witches and wizards rely solely on their magic for fighting. That, is foolhardy, for lack of a better word."

"But–" Harry stopped, "sorry..."

Vivian raised an eyebrow, one corner of her mouth twitching slightly, "But...?"

"If they all depend on just magic... it can't be all bad... can it?"

She laughed, "Certainly not. But it never hurts to be a better fighter than your opponent, and I said the 'vast majority', not *all* of the Wizarding population is that naive."

"Who else is trained in Muggle fighting arts?"

"Many Death Eaters are," Vivian thought a minute. "And I know for a fact that the Lucius Malfoy is highly skilled swords master, and Draco has been studying the art for quite some time... Professor Dumbledore supposedly studied Muggle combat in his youth, as well."

Harry stared at her for a moment, before blinking. "M-Malfoy's a swords master?"

"Um-hmm," she nodded, taking a staff off the wall and tossing it to him, "Let's see how good your reflexes are."

Harry blinked, "What'd you – Whoa!" he finished, bringing the staff up in front of him to block hers a few spare inches from his face.

"Not bad…"

~ * ~

Vivian glanced up when an owl flew into her study, landing on the provided perch. It was the same owl from a few nights previous. She quickly relieved it of its burden, then gave a mouse to the exhausted bird and waved her want to refresh the water dish before sitting down again.

Once again she deactivated the same silver seal and read the same elegant script.

She was frowning by the time she'd finished, the news certainly wasn't unexpected, but it was sooner then she would've liked.

Before she could think more of it, one of the paperweights on her desk, a small, beautiful crystal globe, emitted a bright flash of green light, before dimming to a soft green light.

She was immediately on her feet, hurrying to her brother's room. She knew this vision would disturb him greatly, if it were of the meeting she'd just read of.

And she knew it was a vision. That was the point of the globe; to tell her when her brother was disturbed in his rest.

Red indicated a nightmare, like last night's.

Green indicated a vision, like tonight's and the night prior to the last.

~ * ~

Another meeting of the Order of the Phoenix began as Albus Dumbledore rose to his feet, moments after Snape had hurried in, looking somewhat uneasy.

"I will begin this meeting by informing you all that; no, no more progress has been made on the search for young Mr. Potter. We are still searching, and praying, I ask you to do the same." The old wizard murmured, his bright eyes serious; their usual good-humored twinkle missing, his face grave. "That said, do any of you have anything to report? Severus, I understand you have just returned from a meeting with the Dark Lord. I am glad you were able to join us. Do you have anything to report of Voldemort's plans?"

"The Dark Lord has no idea as to Mr. Potter's whereabouts, and is currently just as lost as we are…" Severus frowned, uncertain of whether or not he should add this now, or inform the Headmaster later, in private.

"Yes, Severus?" the Headmaster prompted, "Is there something else?"

Snape sighed, "The Dark Lord also seems to have gained an interest in Miss Potier, as she is responsible for a substantial decrease in his followers, and is a significant to the search."

This news disturbed more than a few members of the Order. Almost everyone there knew Vivian in some form or another. The Aurors and other Ministry officials knew her as a respected colleague and an enjoyable companion. The Professors knew her as a brilliant young Auror, who seemed to be the only one making any progress in finding Potter. The Weasleys frowned for similar reasons.

"That is a problem," Dumbledore agreed, frowning, "Do you know what he plans in that regard?"

"Wait, for the moment." Severus replied, "I only managed to pick up so much of the conversation, as I was dismissed, but I believe he told Malfoy to keep an eye on her; and kill her if an opportunity presents itself."

End of Chapter 3.

AN: Well, that's it for Chapter 3! What'd you think? I'm sorry about the wait! And I hope you liked it! Let me know!

Responses to:

Hp lovar – LOL, yes that was a rather amusing image, wasn't it. LOL... that won't be Petunia's last confrontation with the house elves... she doesn't like them... if you keep following the story you'll find out why (the next time she's fighting with them). I'm glad you like the story so far... You reviewed LS (Lady Serenity) recently, didn't you? Good luck with Japanese. I plan on updating this weekend, if the chapter cooperates... which it hasn't been for awhile, but I think I can manage. Anyway, Arigato gozaimasu (thank you) for reading! How was this chapter? ^_^

Trickster Jaina Fel – Don't worry, will see more confrontations between Petunia and the house elves. And yes, Vivian is pretty well connected, isn't she? I'm glad you like the story so far, sorry about the wait. ^_^

Phenixrising – Thank you ^_^, I'm sorry about the wait.

Rachel A. Prongs – LOL, yes, that pretty much summed everything up, didn't it? ^_^

AirElemental101 – ^_^ Thank you, I'm glad you liked it, and I'm glad to hear it. Yes, I know I left a blank for Professor Sprout's first name; I don't know what it is! I couldn't find it anywhere! Not in the books or online! L Do you know it? Well, even if you don't, I'm glad you mentioned it. I know that error can be made a lot when you hurry through something, and I know that if I had made that mistake, I really would have appreciated the notice. Thanks.

Xirleb70 – Thank you, I'm glad. ^_^ Sorry for the wait.

LadyD – *blink* *blink* LOL, that's quite possible... hmm... I'll have to make note of that. Thanks for reviewing! And sorry about the wait. ^_^ Thank you

Thank you all for reviewing! ^_^

Translations:

Consanguina - related by blood (Latin)

Ignigena(e) - born of fire (Latin) [AN: It's basically a spirit born of fire and magic, bound as a servant to it's creator. It fades out of existence the moment either the magic is withdrawn or the fire is extinguished, as it needs both to survive.]

Convertere – to change, alter; of books - to translate (Latin)

Quam Abe Conficio - How To Make

Bye! ^_^

~ Jess S