well, here's chapter 10, i hope u like it

Chapter 10:- Late Night Visits

Four ashen faced teenagers flew out of the fireplace at Number 12 and ran up the stairs at top speed, leaving a very winded Mrs. Weasley at the bottom of the stairs, confused.

"Children, wait!" she cried, running up the stairs after them.

Breathing heavily, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny, bounded up the stairs to the 3rd floor,taking two at a time. Harry got to the room first and tried to open the door but it was locked.

"Alex open the door!" he yelled as he pounded on it.

"Why are you shouting?" breathed Mrs. Weasley as she stepped onto the landing.

"When we were in Diagon Alley, Alex saw something, or someone and she just ran away." explained Ginny.

"Why?"

"That's what we're trying to find out."

"Oh, well move over," she said, "Alohomora!"

The door swung open, revealing the empty room, all that was left was the bed, the dresser and the closet.

"All her clothes are gone." muttered Hermione.

"So are her trunk and her books." said Ginny, getting up from under the bed.

"Look," said Harry, picking up the piece of parchment that was left on the bed, "I found something."

"It's a letter."

"What does it say?"


To whom it may concern,

I'm sorry that I had to leave so abruptly,

but something important came up

that I had to take care of.

There's no doubt that you won't see me again though.

Sincerely,
Alex Walker-Black

"Oh dear," said Mrs. Weasley, "where could she have gone?"

"What happened here, Molly?" asked a disheveled Remus from the doorway.

"She left."

Harry and his friends quickly eased towards the door and down the stairs, heading to the girls' room.

"Well, that was an interesting turn of events, wouldn't you say?" said Ron, as he sat down on the corner of his sister's bed.

"Why she ran away in Diagon Alley is what I want to know." said Ginny, sitting next to her brother.

"It's because of who she saw." said Hermione, quietly.

"What do you mean?"

"She saw a couple sitting at the ice cream parlour, she stared at them and the man stared back at her, then he winked."

"Do you know who it was?" asked Harry.

"Yeah, I think it was her 'ex' with his new girlfriend."

"Then why would she run off if she saw them?"

"The only answer I can come up with, is that she's still in love with him."

"But still..."

"They were really in love, so when they broke-up, it must've really hurt her, see for yourself." she said as she handed him the letter that they found in her room earlier.

Harry scanned through it slowly before allowing himself to speak. "Where did you find this?"

"In her room." said Ginny.

He opened his mouth to speak but Ron cut him off, "Don't ask."

"Well, that explains why she ran." he said, "but before my trial, she said she had to run an errand and when she came back, she was acting strange."

"Strange?"

"Yeah, it was as though she was in a daze, and she nearly fell flat on her face, more than once at that."
"I still don't get it, what would make her act that way?"

"Maybe it's the thing she had to do," said Harry slowly, "maybe it had some affect on her."

Hermione got up and went to the window, pondering the events of the last two days. As if an idea suddenly came to her, she snapped her fingers and ran through the door.

"Where're you going?" Ron called.

"Library." she yelled.

"Then why is she going upstairs?" asked Ginny.

"There's a library upstairs too."

"Come on, then." said Harry, running after Hermione.

She apparated into the house and trudged up the stairs, pulling her trunk behind her, completely ignoring the shouts of the portraits that she woke up. Her house was a very large victorian house, nearly as large as the Malfoy Manor, in Wiltshire, that she had visited many times. It was in her grandmother's family for generations and very well kept. She didn't know what she would do with such a big house and she was the only person living in it. Finally getting tired of carrying the trunk, she set it down on the landing.

"Dixie!" she yelled.

"Yes, miss." came a squeaky voice of the tiny house elf at her feet.

"Can you please take this trunk to my room and unpack it please," she said, "and send a bottle of scotch to my mother's study."

"Yes, miss," said Dixie, bowing, "and would miss like dinner sent up there?"

"No, I'll let you know when I'm ready to eat." she said to the house-elf, as it disappeared.

Alex continued up the staircase and stepped into the hallway that led to her mother's study. She never thought that she would ever have a day as bad as this. Seeing Jay once a week was fine, but not three times and to top that off, she nearly fell flat on her face, not once, not twice, eight times.

"Dormiens!" she hissed at the door, making it swing open.

The room was dark and gloomy, no one was in it since her mother died. She had forbidden the house-elves to even clean it. With a wave of her wand, the flames in the extinguished fireplace came to life, enlightening the room. Her heels clicked on the stone floor as she made her way towards the desk. She looked at the books on the shelves and sneered. For a woman who wanted nothing to do with the dark arts, her mother had alot of books on the subject, of course, some of them belonged to her grandfather. Her grandmother, on the other hand, never touched the stuff. She was a Ravenclaw after all. Her mother took after her grandfather, who expected his daughter to be in Slytherin, like the rest of the family but God forbid, she was put in Gryffindor. Apparently he didn't mind though, they still got along. Maybe that was why he didn't get along with the rest of his family, preferably, his 'dear' sister-in-law.

Shaking her head, Alex walked over to the desk. Everything was exactly how her mother left it, the exception being the bottle of scotch, with the . Sitting down, she picked up her mother's memoirs, or as she liked to call it, a diary. As she opened it, a letter fell out of it. The writing was small and neat and looking at the date, it was written the summer after 6th year.

Dear Angie,
how's your summer? Mine is going ok, except for Petty. She has a new boyfriend you know, his name is Vernon Dursley and he's as fat as a cow. When they're together, she takes it upon herself to torment me even more, asking me why don't I have a boyfriend yet and then she catches herself and says that I probably don't have a boyfriend because of how I look. I tell you, I'm so tempted to hex her into next year, but I don't want to be expelled. Yesterday, I walked in on the two of them, shagging on the floor. The sight was too much for words. I'm surprised that I'm not blind, but I am scared for life. She won't even look at me now, but the expression on her face was just priceless. This one would shock you, but I'm actually writing to your dear friend, James Potter. He wrote me at the beginning of the summer, not to ask me out, but to be friends with me. He said he realised that he's been acting like a conceited arse for the past six years and he called a truce. So we're friends apparently. By the way, I found the spell used to open that book but I'll tell you when I get there, just in case the owl is intercepted. Well, I gotta go, mum is making me go to dinner with Petunia and Vermin, and no that's not a spelling error.

Much love,
Lily

Frowning slightly, she put the letter on the desk and continued to look for any sign of the spell. After searching for an hour, she decided to have a drink, she'd get back to this tomorrow. She picked up the bottle and began to pour. After the fifth glass, she realised that she never drank scotch, straight, before. Oh well, she thought, I had a rough day and it's a first time for everything. When it was time for another, the bottle was empty. In a drunken state, she slumped over the desk and fell asleep, thinking about how she met the "love of her life".

FLASHBACK
City Park, London.

Saturday, 27th April, 1990

She sat on a bench, quietly reading her book. Her mother had sent her out to get some fresh air, because she never really got outside. She'd recently returned from her Aunt and Uncle's house- well they weren't really her aunt and uncle, they were cousins, but since she was a little girl, she called them Aunt and Uncle- where she had spent a few days for a little vacation, with her mum, at a lovely house in Wiltshire. She would be going back in the next two days simply because she liked it there.

A tall, dark-haired boy disrupted her from her thoughts as he plopped down on the bench next to her, with about ten books in tow, sighing loudly. How he'd managed to carry all of them was beyond her.

Eyeing him with distaste, she said, "Do you mind?"

"No, I don't." he said coldly, as he accidentally knocked over her bag with his set of books.

Scowling, she picked it up and said, "Something got your knickers in a twist?"

"You can say that," he said, glaring at the ground, "I have so much work to do this vacation and I hardly understand what I'm supposed to be doing."

"Maybe I could help." she said, turning to him.

Flushing slightly, he shook his head, "No, you won't understand this kinda stuff."

She looked at one of his books, 'Standard Book of Spells, Grade 3', "Believe me, I could help you." she said pointedly, "you thought I was a muggle, didn't you?"

"You're not?" he said, looking at her book, 'A Tale of Two Cities'

Smirking, she handed him the book, the title being changed from A Tale of Two Cities to Intermediate Transfiguration. Raising an eyebrow, he looked at her, then down at the book.

"How old are you?"

"12, turning 13 next month."

"You're 12 and doing Intermediate Transfiguration? Where do you go, Beauxbatons? Durmstrang, I've never seen you at Hogwarts."

"I would've gone to Durmstrang, but my mum chose to keep me here, so I'm home-schooled."

"Ah, ok."

He looked at his feet, with his brows furrowed as though he was making an important decision. He then picked up his charms book and smiled.

"So, how good are you at charms?"

This memory faded and another one came into view. It was the one when they first kissed.

She sat on the usual bench, eating a hotdog and reading a book. It was called 'The Ring', an excellent novel by Danielle Steel about a German woman who fell in love with a Jewish man, during Hitler's reign.
"Hello love." he said as he came up behind her, making her start.

"Hullo."

"Guess what."

She scowled at him, he knew she disliked this little guessing game of his, she had little patience to begin with, but he loved to taunt her anyway.

"Because of your expert tutoring, I actually passed every subject this year, even McGonagall's shocked," he frowned slightly, "well, almost everything anyway."

"Meaning?"

"Well, I failed Potions."

"Why?"

"I dunno, I guess I got distracted."

"How?"

"Well, I was thinking about you."

She snorted, "Oh, come on."

"I'm serious."

Still laughing, she got up and walked around before returning to the bench.

"Well, then, prove it."

"Prove it?"

"Yes."

He got up and walked towards her. A huge lump formed in her throat as he leaned in and his hand caressed her cheek. She cursed herself, silently for looking into his eyes as he kissed her. She pulled away after a while and stared at him. Her knees suddenly gave out and she fell, but fortunately his reflexes were good, he caught her and sat her down on the bench.

"Oh, merlin." she said quietly.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Wow, I didn't know I had that affect on a girl before." he said, grinning.

"Maybe because, all the girls you snogged were in a broom closet," she said irritably, "there's no room to fall."
Chuckling, he said, "Does that mean we're going out now?"

"Yeah, I guess it does."

Again, this memory faded out and another one came into view. This one being only a week after the previous, took place.

Angie and Alex Walker-Black were walking quickly through the streets of London, hurrying to get home before the rain began to fall. Not looking to see where she was going, Alex bumped into a tall, olive-skinned boy, who smiled at her, she was just about to say something to him, when she heard a hiss. She looked up to see an auburn haired woman glaring daggers at her mother. Alex felt her mother's hand twitch against her arm, as if she wanted so much to take out her wand.

"Mama?" she said softly, to remind her mother that she was still there.

"Come along, dear," said Angie, coldly, "we don't associate with such filth!"

"Young Mistress!" squeaked a voice from behind her, shaking her slumped form.

"Hmm?"

"Young Mistress!"

"Oh, hell, what is it?"

"Twinkle comes to tell Young Mistress that she has a visitor."

"Who is it?" she asked, rising from her chair and fixing her clothes.

"Twinkle doesn't know."

"Hmm, well, tell whoever it is that I'll be down in a minute," she said, pulling on her black robes and pocketing her wand, "and make some tea, will you."

"Yes, miss." said the elf as she bowed and disappeared.

Sighing, she put the diary into a drawer and locked it and walked out of the study, being careful to lock it as she did. Walking quickly down the stairs, wondering who would be calling at the house at this time. She seemed to have forgotten her thoughts as she entered the parlour, in which stood a tall, hooded man.

"May I help you?" she asked, as she swept into the room, her black robes billowing behind her.

"Yes, you could." drawled the man, as he pulled down his hood and smirked.

Crossing her arms over her chest, she stared warily at him. If she looked surprised to see him, she didn't show it. They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, wordlessly, she got up and went into the platinum blond haired man's arms, crying. He rocked her as though she was a baby, to cease the flow of tears and to make her calm down. From the doorway, the servants and house-elves smiled at the scene. The man that was holding their young mistress wasn't a cold man as everyone said he was, well, at least not to people he was familiar with. Besides, when it came to Alex and her mother, and his own family for that matter, he wasn't that cruel. His cold grey eyes seemed to soften whenever he saw them.

"You've been drinking." he said quietly.

"I had a bad day," she said stiffly, "I'm sure you've had your share of those."

"Why did you run?"

"I couldn't face him, for the second time in the same day," she said, rubbing her eyes and looking up at him, "but how did you know that?"

"I saw you in Diagon Alley with the blood-traitors and the half-breeds, not to mention the mudbloods." he said, smiling slightly.

"You're a cold man, you know."

Looking down at their current position, he gave her a handcerchief and a sardonic smile, "Oh, I wouldn't say that."

She snorted but gave no retort.

"You shouldn't let him get to you, I'm surprised that you didn't splinch yourself, apparating back home."

"I can't help it, everytime I see that slut with him, I can't help but think that, I should be in her place."

"I thought you said you didn't feel that way anymore."

"That was when you gave me my first bottle of firewhiskey, I was delusional and to make things worst, their getting married."

"Married? How do you know?"

"He told me."

"When?"

"I was having breakfast at an 'all you can eat' place, when he came up to me and said, he's getting married." she said sighing, "and then it got worse when I saw him again."

He made a noise, that sounded like a snort.

"What?"

"Nothing." he said, innocently.

She rose slowly and looked at him, with eyebrows raised, "Seriously, what?"
"Nothing, love but please, continue."

"Well, I saw him again."

"And?"

"When I was sorting out mum's will, I had to go over to his house for some stuff, well, I really went to see his mother."

"What happened next?"

"Well, I had gotten the things and as I was leaving, he came in with the bimbo, she was literally attached to him," she said, with her voice breaking, "and when we looked at each other, the night that...that..."

She couldn't finish the sentence. It was too painful. Sighing, she snuggled into the man's arms.

"I heard you saw your aunt and your cousin today." he said, changing the subject.

She nodded, slowly, "Yes, I prevented an altercation between, Draco and Harry and his friends."

"I also heard that you're teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Who told you that?"

"Who do you think?"

"Ah."

"Well good luck." he said, as he got up, straightening his robes.

"Why is everyone saying that?"

"The job's cursed, my dear," he said, his lips curling, "the teachers either died mysteriously, or got themselves in a predicament."

When she didn't answer him, he walked towards her and lifted her chin to his face.

"Don't worry, love, you'll get through it."

"What makes you so sure?"

"I always know," he said tapping his forehead, "so how about you come around for dinner tomorrow night, then we'll practice your fencing after."

"Sounds great."

"Good, I'll talk you later then."

"You're going so soon?"
"Yes, I promised my wife that I'll be home in time for dinner." he said, not facing her.

"Oh." she said quietly, "you're not as cold as people say you are you know."

Smiling beside himself, he kept walking.

"Uncle Lucius?" she called, making him whirl around, his black robes swirling around him.

"Yes?"

"Thank you for always being there for me."

"Your welcome, my dear." he said softly.

Hermione pushed open the doors of the library and rushed towards the nearest shelf.

"What exactly are you looking for?" gasped a breathless Harry.

"Anything that can tell me about Jay's parentage and the book that Voldemort's after."

"What for?" whined Ron, "we already know that he's Katarina MacCartney's son."

"He does have a father, you know."

Harry walked over to a nearby desk and sat down, it had been a really long day. His eyes flicked across the desk and his gaze landing on a book - 'Pureblooded Families of the Dark Ages'.

"Maybe this should help you." he called to the others.

"I wonder if we're in here." Ron mused.

Hermione ran a finger down the index page, reading the family names out loud, "There's the Avery's, the Black's, the Bones', the Crabbe's, Goyle's, Lestrange's, Longbottom's, Macnair's, Malfoy's, Nott's, Parkinson's-"

"But these are only dark families," said Harry, taking the book from Hermione.

"Not all of them," she said, snatching it back, "just let me finish, the Parkinson's, the Potter's- see Harry, your family's in here."

Harry took the book from Hermione and turned the pages quickly, to see a picture of his family, grinning up at him. Two men with untidy black hair, one of them having some grey in it. An elderly looking woman with hazel eyes, smiling sweetly into the camera and a small young pregnant woman with fiery red hair and green eyes just like his. This was probably taken months after they had gotten out of Hogwarts.

"Wicked," said Ron, "now let's see if we're in here, Gin?"

"Sorry, Ron, you're not," said Hermione.
"How do you know?" he said, taking tho book away from her.

"Look, the list goes from Potter, Prewett, Rookwood, Walker and lastly, Zabini."

"Well at least mum's family is in there."

"What page is The Walker Family?"

"Ninety-Seven."

"Here it is," said Ginny, "The Walker Family is one of the oldest and most prestigious pureblooded families in the United Kingdom. Their roots could be traced back to the late 14th century, years before any of the wizarding schools were established. They had intermarriage pairings with other families throughout the years, the most recent being with Christian Black. The pairing of Christian Black and Sarafina Walker was one of the biggest events of the century, the joining together of the houses of Slytherin and Ravenclaw. This was, unfortunately frowned upon, by members of the respective families. Ironically, the Walker ancestors were some of the co-founders of the dark arts, the very same thing that they 'claim' that they are profoundly against. Especially in the branch of Ne-

"Is that all?" asked Ginny.

"Yeah, the page is torn out."

"Well, obviously someone didn't want people to see it."

"Hey, where's Harry?"

"Right here." said Harry coming up behind them with a book in his hand.

"Where'd you go?"

"I went looking for something that might help us," he answered, "here."

"19th Century Dark Arts." said Hermione as she examined the book.

It was a thick, green book, with silver lining, and well preserved, in spite of it's age. She opened the book to find it bare, yes, there were pages but nothing was written on it.

"That's funny." mused Hermione, "there's nothing written on it, making it exactly like-

"Tom Riddle's Diary." said Harry and Ginny.

The door creaked slightly, making all of them turn.

"Am I interrupting something?" came the calm voice of Remus Lupin.

"No, not at all." said Hermione quickly closing the book and putting it on the table with the others.
"Oh, well you are wanted down in the kitchen."

"Who?"

"All of you."

As they filed out of the room, Remus spotted a piece of parchment on the floor, unfortunately for him, Harry saw it too and he snatched up and stored it in his pocket, just as his former teacher was reaching for it.

"It's what I was writing on, you know, research for new defense spells for the DA," said Harry nervously as he walked quickly out of the room, "can't let Hermione do all the work."

Remus stared after him and shook his head, the interesting thing about it was that there was nothing written on it. Well, not as far as he could see anyway. He walked over to the desk and looked at the book and smirked at the title, it was customary for a pureblooded family like the Blacks to have a book like this in the house. He flipped it open and his eyes widened. He thought he wasn't seeing right, but there it was in bold italics.

Property of the Walker-Black Family Library

'Strange', he thought, #12 Grimmauld Place was in London and Walker Estate was all the way in Manchester. After the fight, Mrs. Black literally purified the house of anything that contained the Walker-Black Family Crest, so, what was this book doing here?

Someone burst through the door, making him start, but it was only Hermione.

"Sorry, I picked up the wrong book," she said, smiling, as she exchanged a book with the one Remus was previously looking at and also picking up another one.

"See you later, Professor."

He nodded as she exited the room. 'Strange.'

Albus Dumbledore sat staring into the fire, looking slightly battered. At this point, the wizarding world was in trouble, especially since Voldemort's return, things are worse than they were sixteen years ago. And then, there's the prophecy. Sighing loudly, he put his head in his hands but footsteps echoing in the stairwell, made him turn.

"You wanted to see us, Professor?" asked Ginny, looking puzzled.

"Yes," he said warily, "on Thursday, you will be going to Professor Walker-Black's house for defensive training and for Harry, you will be starting your Occulemency lessons, as well. You will be staying until the day before you return to Hogwarts."

Harry glanced over his shoulder to see Hermione and Ginny exchange wicked glances.
"Also, " he continued, "Mr. Potter, you will be escorted to your family's home, tomorrow."

"Can we go too, sir?" piped Ron.

"Why certainly, Mr. Weasley," he replied, "now, if you will excuse me, I have some business to attend to, back at the school."

With a nod, he vanished.

While the others were busy discussing their plans for the next few days, Harry's thoughts drifted back to last night and wondered what was in store for him next. He felt a cold hand on his shoulder and turned.

"Is anything wrong?" asked Hermione.

Looking at her solemnly, he nodded, "There's something I have to tell you."