"Orange hair, freckles. Orange hair, freckles. Orange hair- Uhm, R-Ron, is that you?" A teenager with orange hair walked through him. There was no girl accompanying him down the street. "Okay, I'll take that as a 'no'."

Derrin continued his frantic search through the streets for Harry's elusive friends.

He walked up and down the cobblestone roads, sometimes calling out to random people in the hopes that they might be able to hear him, and other times jogging up to someone to get a better look at their features.

So far, however, his searching had proven completely fruitless. It didn't seem this 'Ron' character was anywhere around.

Derrin was getting more agitated by the minute. Everywhere he looked there seemed to be people with blazing red hair, or bushy brown hair.

"Rrrrgh..." He mumbled to himself as he looked, "He could've been a little more specific...Oh this is going to take forev--" He stopped as he noticed a couple of teenagers in front of him a ways. He looked at each head in turn. Red, brown. Red, brown. Red, brown.

He held his breath, then stepped forward so he could hear what they were saying to one another.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So, uhmmm, we're in a pretty deep pile of it, aren't we?"

"What do you mean, Ron?"

"Well, how're we to contact Dumbledore or find Harry if we're both invisible?"

Hermione thought a second, then shrugged. "I don't know," she seemed to deflate slightly with the confession. "But we have to think of something."

There was a gasp behind them, and they both turned to see a boy standing there, looking through them. Ron gazed at him a second, then turned to Hermione.

"Isn't he that bloke who was with Harry?"

Hermione was looking at him funny. The boy still hadn't moved. "Yes, I think it is. I wonder what happened. He looks a little worse for wear."

The boy in question took a step forward, then said something that stunned Ron and Hermione.

"You can see me?" He asked.

"You can see us?"

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I sighed as I walked along through the streets of this town I had become so familiar with. Now, however, it seemed completely foreign. I was used to people ignoring me, or skirting around me as I walked around. At least that was something. But it felt so... depressing to not even be visible to the people around me. I was a ghost. Again. The irony was almost unbearable.

But what was worse, Derrin was suffering right along with me. Even though I knew deep down it wasn't my fault, I couldn't stop the guilt welling up inside my chest, so intense it made my breathing difficult.

He was now a part of my hell.

I stumbled and fell as I kicked the back step of the parlor, instead of stepping up it.

I took a deep breath as I forced my thoughts of self-pity out of my head and picked myself up off the ground. I felt a stinging, and looked down to see the palm of my hand bleeding.

So, cursing to myself, I got up and walked to the door. But when I tried to open it, my hand fazed through the handle.

"Oh yeah, right." I sucked in my breath, and stepped through the door. My body kind of went cold for a second, then felt normal again as I emerged on the other side into the locker room. The first thing I saw was Sam, sitting in the big armchair, writing in what appeared to be a diary of some sorts.

Funny, I didn't know Sam kept a diary.

I realized I was staring at her, and snapped out of it. Scowling, I stepped over to my locker, and stood before it.

I raised my hand, and took a breath.

Test one...

My hand fazed through the locker door as I reached in towards my belongings. Before my fingers could find them, however, there was a harsh hand on my shoulder, fingers digging into my flesh.

Before I could even think, I was picked up by the hand and thrown hard against the opposite wall. A voice sounded from somewhere, I couldn't tell where.

"Uh uh uh..." It taunted. My blood froze at the voice.

No... no...

My last image was of Sam, sitting in the chair writing, blissfully unaware of the action around her.

Then everything went black.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ugh. Sorry for that. It was a bad chapter. I'll try and make the next one a lot longer, kay? If you think I'm moving too fast through the plot, please tell me, and I'll try and slow it up a bit. Thanks everyone for reviewing, please keep it up. If you have any ideas for the story that you think I should include, I would be happy to hear them, cuz it might help move things along. Sorry for the wait, and keep reading!

-Kybo