Chapter 3: I'll hate you and you'll hate me

Wait, no-no-no-" Too late. Instead of the magically enlarged chair for him, Hagrid misinterpreted his seating arrangement and ended up sitting amongst five crushed chairs. He mumbled his apologies and seated himself carefully; I heard Mr. Weasley repair the chairs as he shouted apologies to no one in particular.

I looked up to see a familiar face-Luna Lovegood was talking to a baffled looking Harry while who can only be her father stands behind her.

I had to turn away to stifle my laugh as I see Fred and George's "veela"- in other words, Aunt Muriel-walked in on the arm of Ron, who looked like he'd rather be anywhere but there.

Some time later after making a point of not watching Draco charm some pretty French girls as he took them to their seat, opportunity knocked. Walking swiftly over right in front of Draco I gave Viktor Krum a huge smile.

"Hello Viktor, how are you doing?" I asked in my most charming voice, linking my arm through his and guiding him right past Draco as I take him to his seat. Ah, revenge is sweet...

But it got me thinking-why shouldn't I have a boyfriend? Draco was probably already well on his way-no, stop! I shook myself. This was not a race. And I couldn't care less who Malfoy dates. Besides, if I did get a boyfriend it would be because we liked each other and not to make Malfoy jealous.

I realized as I walked back to my own seat after seating Krum that he had made quite a stir-especially among Fleur's relatives. And Ron looked almost murderous as he glared at him. Hermione was tinged pink, and I remembered that she had gone to the Yule Ball with him in fourth year...

In our row, it was myself, Ron, Harry, Hermione, George, Fred, and Draco. Ron leaned over to Harry, and I caught something about "Krum" and "Stupid little beard."

"Tori, do you know why girls fuss over him?" Ron turned to me, obviously speaking of Krum.

"Well, maybe because he's a nationally famous Quidditch player, not to mention he's really, really ha-uh, well, he's sort of ugly," I quickly changed my words at Ron's outraged look, stifling a laugh.

"Girls," he mumbled moodily.

"Boys," I nudged him back.

In the front, Bull and Charlie stood up as the music began, and Fred's wolf whistle succeeded in making several teenage girls giggle.

"Oooh!" Said Hermione, and we all swivel around in our seats to see what the room has gone quiet for. A sigh from the female population of the marquee fills the air as Fleur begins down the aisle with her father-she was dazzling, practically glowing-everything her radiance fell on it seemed to beautify, including Ginny and Gabrielle behind her. By the time she'd floated up to Bill in her simple white dress, they were both smiling like they were the only two in the world. Bill was looking as if he'd never even met Fenrir Greyback.

My eyes were sweeping the room, and my smile was mirrored on the faces of those around me.

I did a double take as I realized someone was meeting my eye-it was Quinn, a Hufflepuff boy in my year. He was tall and dark haired, and was smiling at me. I smiled back and turned around in my seat, trying to recall his last name as the preacher continued to talk. I realized that the preacher was the same man who spoke at Dumbledore's funeral-I saw a piece of white paper flash as it was handed to me-it was a corner ripped off the seating chart-

We see you've been making eyes at the date we've chosen for you. NO SINGLES! So what do you think? Gred and I good matchmakers, eh?

-Forge

I wrote back on the other side in tiny, cramped handwriting-

To Fred or George-I can never tell which one you are when you put Gred and Forge, you know that! And...yes. Well done.

"That's why we do it," I heard them mutter together directed at me, and I can tell they're answering my beginning statement of myself not being able to tell when they put Gred and Forge.

I considered Quinn- he was nice, loyal, hard-working-the exemplary Hufflepuff, really. Not to mention he was on the Quidditch team, and rather good looking.

And yet, I was all but kicking myself to get my heart to flutter, to do something other than march to its normal beat. I remembered Hermione's words when I told her Draco and I were done...

"Every girl deserves to be with someone who makes them happy. Right now, Draco's the one that makes you cry. So go and find the right one...you have plenty of time."

I pictured Draco back with Pansy, and turned around to smile once more at Quinn. As I did, I may have detected some heart fluttering.

"...then I declare you bonded for life." A shower of silver stars sprinkled down upon Fleur and Bill as they leaned into the kiss that would change them to husband and wife.

Applause filled the air as Bill and Fleur pulled back to smile at each other with expression filled with such love that it was impossible to consider them as anything but completely perfect for each other.

The golden balloons overhead were bursting, and tiny golden bells floating down slowly, birds of paradise whose feathers were set in magnificent jeweled hues also flew out, soaring into the sunlit blue skies.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" came the voice of the tufty haired wizard-"If you could please stand up!" With an intricate wave of his wand, the golden chairs rose into the air and the canvas walls of the tent vanished, completely changing the feeling of the marquee. Now the golden poles supported the white ceiling, and the view of the orchard countryside was spectacular. Then came a golden rippling effect on the ground from the inside out, turning it into a gleaming dance floor.

A small podium appeared in which the gold jacketed band made their way up to. White clothed tabled appeared on the outside of the expensive dance floor, and the chairs floated back firmly on the ground, surrounding the tables.

"Smooth," Ron commented, turning around and snatching a butterbeer from a waiter, of which there were now several, circling the room, offering food and refreshments. A well-wishing line appeared around Bill and Fleur, and Ron, Harry, and Hermione crossed the floor, moving toward a table whose only occupant was Luna Lovegood. I didn't realize their absence left Draco and I standing awkwardly alone until the band began to play a waltz.

My feet seemed oddly rooted to the spot and I looked around, desperate for someone to come and rescue me.

It took me a moment to realize that Draco had turned a shoulder away from me, purposely facing away. I followed his eyes to a small cluster of French girls and unexpectedly felt like crying. After (mostly) holding it in over the past few days, my tears choosing now, at the worst possible time, to burn the back of my eyes as I restrained them.

Most everyone was drifting to tables except for those who had taken to the dance floor, and I didn't want to stand here miserably.

I took a step toward the dance floor, but sort of lurched back, and I looked toward Draco with what must have been that odd I'm-going-to-say-something-but-now-I've-changed-my-mind sort of look. I shook my head and bit back whatever words might have slipped out, walking toward the dance floor.

Immediately, George swooped in on my right, grinning.

"Well, I've got to say I'm honored," I grinned cheekily, "That you'd leave your veelas over there to come dance with poor little me," I teased, putting my hand on his shoulder as he rested his on my waist. He took my other hand in his and I tried not to think of Draco and me dancing-because it wasn't him in front of me, it was George, and Draco was an arse.

"To be honest I think Fred and I've scared most of them off-besides, British girls are much more interesting."

"Why thank you," I grinned as he spun me. We danced for a few songs and my mood had considerably lifted by the time I found myself in front of Quinn Garrison. I remembered his last name.

We danced for a while, and he was nice enough, and I thought maybe-just maybe-he might like me. We were just getting drinks when I froze at the first stanza of the song the band had just begun to play-Draco and I didn't really have a "song," but whenever I heard this song I thought of us.

"Quinn? I'm going to get some fresh air, alright? I'll be back soon."

I was gone, but not before the damage was done-they've sung the first few lines, and the rest was floating out, following me out of the marquee, but mostly it was playing in my head. It was about the hard path that two lovers take to stay together, about how "love will always make it." And-well, it was a love song. What was I to expect? It was a wedding, after all.

The faintest pink was beginning to tinge the sky, and the song was entering the chorus as the first tear escaped and I stopped to enter the confinement of a willow tree, its dripping branches brushing the ground and enclosing me in a circle with the trunk at the center. I leaned up against the tree, facing away from the marquee, a sob escaping my throat. I was thankful that my make-up was waterproof because more than one tear had slipped onto my cheek. I was counting on the secludedness of the place I chose to hide me, but apparently someone had followed; I heard twigs crack, and the swish of willow branches being pushed up to the side. Without turning, I assume it was Quinn-

"Quinn, I-" I stopped, trying to control my voice, which had just deceived me, trembling slightly. I surreptitiously wiped the tears from both of my cheeks and turned, my expression hardening as I realize that it is, in fact, not Quinn.

"What are you doing here?" I snapped at Draco. "I didn't think anyone would follow me."

"Well, I did. Astoria, we don't have to do this, you know-we're still allies. Just not..."

"I know, I know!" I cried, and now the tears were really streaming down my face, and I couldn't do a thing to stop them. "Is that all you came to do, to remind me? First my parents leave, then my sister, and now you're-"

I stopped as he grabbed my wrists, yanking my hands down from massaging my temples.

"I'm still here for you-"

"No, no you're not!" I ripped my wrists out of his grip. My crying was done, and now, to be frank, I was pissed. "Just leave me alone, Malfoy, alright? You can't just step in and out of my life whenever you please! So let's just go back to the way it was before, alright Malfoy? I'll hate you and you'll hate me and you can go back to Parkinson and I won't give a damn because then life will be so much easier! Just leave me alone! Or better yet, just leave!" I was shocked when he did-he dissaperated with a pop.

I stopped, breathing hard. I made a decision right then and there-promising myself. Never again.

And away I boxed my feelings for Draco. A cool feeling of calm washed over me, and I pushed any other feeling associated with Draco, away. I took a deep, calming breath. I realize the song had just ended-something in the air lifted.

So I collected myself, walking back in, offering smiles. And Quinn approached me and asked if I was alright, looking concerned.

"Oh, I'm fine," I surprised him by kissing him on the cheek, and I liked the smile that lit up his face.

"Astoria, I've liked you for a while now, as you may have known." We were back on the dance floor now, swaying slowly with his arms around my waist and mine around his neck. "And I was wondering...would you ever, maybe, want to go out with me? On a date?"

My mind was racing. I thought that maybe I could learn to like Quinn, and maybe already did, a bit. He was kind, and sweet, and caring...and most of all, did not have a Dark Mark on his arm, nor had he betrayed me-

"Yes," I heard myself say, almost from far away. "Yes, I'd love that."

We smiled at each other, and I was wondering if we looked like Fleur and Bill had when a silver lynx patronus floated down from the canopy ceiling, landing among astonished dancers-but worst yet, it the message it has to deliver-

And in Kingsley's deep, rich tone it opens its mouth and delivers-

"The ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming."

Cold, dead silence flattened the air and several of us broke out of our stupor to grab our wands-I gripped my own wand tightly, and someone screamed.

That seemed to trigger the inevitable pandemonium- the crowd writhed as people threw themselves left and right, yelling desperately to family and friends-I was hustled violently back and forth and was starting to panic as I began to fear being trampled in the scrambling crowd. Then like a lifeline, Quinn's arm shot out and he pulled me to his side, and I didn't protest as he linked my arm through his and leaned over me protectively-I instinctively leaned into him, screaming as a black-cloaked, silver-masked figure appeared in front of us-and he wasn't the only one.

"Ron! Ron!" Hermione was buffeted toward us with Harry, and they were in danger of passing Ron, who was barreling toward him-I seized her arm and the two of them stopped, looking around wildly before their eyes finally settled on Ron.

A moment of uneasiness settled over me, and I couldn't shake the odd feeling that I wouldn't be seeing these three for a long while. I knew, as did the others who had stayed at the Burrow over the summer, that Harry, Ron, and Hermione were not planning to return to Hogwarts next year. No one knew when they would leave-but now it was obvious. They were about to make their disappearance to do...something. But whatever it was...

"Good luck, you three," I told them gravely as Ron reached their sides.

We all locked eyes for a moment and I felt a surge of energy pass through me as a silent agreement passed between us-keep resisting. Don't stop fighting.

And then they were gone.

I was pressed up against Quinn but still managed to almost topple over as an old man slammed into my shoulder. Quinn steadied me, and I screamed- "Protego!" Following in the lead of Remus, Tonks, and several other Order members. Quinn and I raced to the band's empty podium, and climbed on top to survey the scrabble-many people had already dissaparated, but some were still frantically rushing around, looking for lost friend or family members. No one seemed to notice the two of us.

A disheveled Ginny, Fred, and George joined us and together we fired several stunning spells at Death Eaters-

"Give us Potter!" And I could have sworn the cry I had just head came from Severus Snape-and that was the last thought that graced my mind before a spell ricocheted, the bright light bouncing into my chest-and I somehow ended up crumpled on the floor behind the podium, vision growing fuzzy.

And the sounds of the pandemonium faded into a small background noise, and everything slowed like the flow of water turning to the crawl of honey.

I struggled to blink, and then-nothing.

My eyelids snapped open, and I was surprisingly alert for someone who'd just awoken. I blinked rapidly a few times before my vision cleared, and then I took in my surroundings-I was still in my crumpled dress from last night, and I was spread out on the Weasley's living room couch-a thin blanket covered me, and my head rested on a decorative pillow.

The morning light slanted in from the windows, telling me that I'd slept through the night-

Ginny, whose fierce loyalty lit a smile on my face, was sleeping soundly on the rocking chair next to me. Although a blanket covered her sleeping form, I would bet she still wore her robes from the night before as well-she still had the jewelry, make-up, and hair of which the staying char had faded, leaving make-up smeared and hair messed from the events of last night, and the sleep. I probably looked just as disheveled, if not more.

The Burrow was oddly quiet-the only noise was the ticking of a clock. The silence wasn't calming or tranquil, it was only a reminder that the Burrow was emptied of most of it's inhabitants from last night. Ron (except his place had been taken by the attic ghoul) was gone, along with Harry and Hermione. Fred and George were scheduled to leave today, the day after the wedding, to their flat above their joke shop, after cleaning up the remnants of the wedding. Bill and Fleur were gone, as would be Charlie after today.

After tonight, it would be only Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Ginny, and myself.

And of course, Ron's "Splattergoit-stricken" ghoul in pajamas.

What was going to happen? It couldn't be true-had the Ministry really fallen?

Remembering the lynx patronus's condemning message, a cold wave of dread engulfed me-

"The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming."

The Ministry had fallen and the Minister was dead-what did this mean for the rise of Voldemort? What did this mean for the entire wizard population, not to mention the countless muggles that would no doubt feel the wrath of the Unforgivable curses?

I wasn't left much time to revel in my dark thoughts because at that moment, my unfocused eyes turned back to the kitchen as I heard the familiar noise of footsteps coming down the stairs. Putting a smile on, I rose to greet Mrs. Weasley. I wasn't surprised at all at the pinched and pale look on her face, the bags under her eyes, but she still managed to smile in her motherly way and pat my cheek as I came to help her begin breakfast. She explained what happened last night after I was stupefied. In between talking in whispers as to not wake Ginny, we fell into the rhythm of the work of sausages, eggs, and fresh bread dotted abundantly with nuts and cranberries.

In short, no one had been seriously injured and the Death Eaters had all dissaparated after realizing Harry wasn't there-magical fortifications had been reinstated and doubled.

"Oh, dear, double that recipe, would you? We have some extra visitors."

Sausages were sizzling, eggs were about to be prepared, and I was mixing up the batter of the cranberry bread.

Ginny had roused not quite five minutes ago, but Mrs. Weasley told her she could return to her bed upstairs as as she looked absolutely exhausted. Although Harry's abrupt disappearance probably added to her weary, beaten-down look.

"Who all is here, now?" I asked, cracking a few eggs against the side of the bowl.

"Well, besides us and Ginny and Arthur, and the three that are leaving tonight, after the clean up-" I didn't miss her sidelong look at me- "Quinn Garrison and his mother will be staying another night to help clean up as well, as they so kindly offered their services. Now I know better than anyone, being their mother, that Fred and George joke around. But they told me that...how did they out it...that you and Quinn have a...a thing? Normally I'd dismiss it as some of their hogwash...but, dear, he was the one that carried you in last night..." she trailed off, stopping to give me a kind smile. "And it's so soon after Draco...and if you're sure...you both seemed so happy, dear..." she trailed off, stopping when she realized she may have done more harm than good with that last statement. "Well, I think it was a good idea. Getting over it all, putting the past behind you-and Quinn-he seems like such a nice boy!" she quickly backtracked.

"Oh, he is, that's for sure. And yes, he did ask me out. But he's not my boyfriend. At least...not yet."

Then Mrs. Weasley surprised me by engulfing me into a hug-"Oh, Astoria!" she squeezed me. "Maybe someday we'll be planning your wedding! Someday, I said, mind you. Don't go getting any ideas!" She said with warning in her voice."It's so important to have love in this war, you know! In the last one of course...people were eloping left, right, and center." She didn't realize it but she really got me thinking-I was seventeen. In these times...that was an acceptable age for marriage, only slightly on the young side. My parents themselves had married at eighteen...On one hand, I felt a need for a husband, maybe even starting a family...but on the other hand, I still had a whole year left of school, and...seventeen. I was barely an adult. I still felt more like a teenager. Which I still was. I felt years too young to be seen with a ring on my finger, a belly swollen with child. Much too young.

"But whatever makes you happy dear, whatever makes you happy," Mrs Weasley added. But it wasn't that easy, was it? What if...I pushed the thought out of my head, putting a smile on my face as Quinn appeared at the bottom of the stairs, a grin tugging at his lips.

"Hello, Quinn. Hello, Astoria," came Fred and George as they walked away from Quinn and I cleaning tablecloths. First Fred turned and winked dramatically, then George did the same. Wow, they were really working-

"Wow, they're really working at you and I, aren't they?" He completed my thought exactly.

"That's exactly what I was thinking!" I beamed, flicking water at him with a finger glistening with soap bubbles. We both wore old shirts and pants-work clothes. The sun had passed its climax of high noon, now dipping down slightly as it was a few hours past. We'd been working since after breakfast, and land was almost free from any sign of the wedding the night before.

"Hey!" He wiped at the droplets I had sprayed across his cheek, cupping half a handful of water and flinging it at me while I jumped back, squealing.

I cupped my hands, retaliating by splashing water at his chest, and ran.

In that moment, there was none of the complexity, the wondering, the secretiveness my relationship with Draco had held. My mind told me to get over him.

Several hours ago, the Death Eaters had burst into the Burrow and interrogated us for hours about the whereabouts of Harry-for all we knew, the three could have disappeared off the face of the earth.

The night before-Draco

"What are you doing?" Draco wasn't surprised by the intensity in her voice, the fierceness in her eyes. He had followed her out after the song playing struck her nerve.

His jaw twitched as he thought about that Boy Quinn that she had been dancing with. He...wait, no, Draco stopped himself. She could dance with whoever she pleased, he wasn't jealous. Even if he was, he could learn not to be.

"I didn't think anyone would follow me," she added, a clear message in here eyes-get out.

"Well, I did. Astoria, we don't have to do this, you know. "We're still allies, just not..." he trailed off, leaving the sentence hanging purposely. He couldn't bear to say "in love."

Get used to it, Malfoy, he snarled at himself inwardly. There's too much against us-the Death Eaters, Voldemort, everything. Every time they seemed to be getting somewhere another obstacle cropped up. So Draco was finished-after all, there was no other option.

Astoria was just a normal girl now, and he refused to think otherwise. He was a Malfoy, after all. And he didn't need anybody but himself.

"I know, I know!" Astoria was beginning to cry, and Draco repeated the words teenage fling, teenage fling, teenage fling, over and over in his mind, concreting him in his head, trying to convince himself that that was all he and Astoria had. "Is that all you came to do, remind me?" Her hands flew to her temples in the familiar gesture Draco had become accustomed to seeing when she was stressed or upset. "First my parents, then my sister leaves, now you're-" Draco stopped her by grabbing her wrists and pulling them down. What was to he say now? He had to mention something about them still being friends, or she would leave and never come back, or, someday, he would just be another meaningless name on Astoria's list of wedding invitations.

"I'm still here for you-"

"No, no you're not!" A spark of anger flared in Draco as she yanks her wrists away. "Just leave me alone, Malfoy, alright? You can't just step in and out of my life whenever you please! So let's just go back to the way it was before, alright Malfoy? I'll hate you and you'll hate me and you can go back to Parkinson and I won't give a damn because then life will be so much easier! Just leave me alone! Or better yet, just leave!"

And he did.

With a crack, he arrived back inside his cold room at the manor, the room devoid of anything that could possibly make it looked like it belonged to a normal teenager. He stomped over to the heavy mirror, not even bothering to try and douse his anger. He fumed while he changed his appearance, but a nagging sensation that wouldn't go away refused to be addressed-where were the other Death Eaters?

He could find out in an hour, and not only would they be back, but Voldemort himself in all his darkness.

Mid-August came, and no Death Eaters pulled any stunts at the Burrow, although they'd been watching us. We'd been to Diagon Alley, and Ginny and I had gathered our supplies for next term-and something heavy had settled over all of us since the school supply letters came in, a heavy fog hanging over the Burrow's inhabitants-Snape, by order of the "Ministry," was now Headmaster of Hogwarts.

Diagon Alley was altered, losing all of the cheer it had previously given to shoppers-Wanted pictures were disposed of, except for one-Harry's-and the very same Death Eaters of the torn down posters stood guard at every shadowy corner, sneering.

The one time I had been allowed to leave Mr. and Mrs. Weasely and Ginny to buy seventh year books had entailed into a happy moment-Quinn asked me to be his girlfriend, and I accepted. I clung to that moment like it was the only ray of sunshine in a dark cave.

Although what was mainly on my mind, and everyone else's as the new year at Hogwarts approached, was exactly that-Hogwarts. And the entire wizarding world. The Death Eaters seemed to be seeping into every thing like an acidic mist, slowly choking the light out of everything good. Everything was changing.

First, the Ministry. The Death Eaters had complete control. This was an obvious fact, commonly known. They seemed to be cutting off any hope of a Voldemort-free future. On the morning after the wedding, we had been questioned for the longest time about where Harry had gotten to-none of us knew any more than they did.

Since then, they had taken to using cruder measures, using the Cruciatus Curse on every Order-connected house across the country to try and torture out knowledge of Harry Potter.

Luckily, there had been no deaths, but also no word at all from Harry, Ron, or Hermione.

Next, Hogwarts would obviously be run very differently. The school curriculum had always been run by the Ministry, and now the Ministry completely consisted of Death Eaters-them, and those held captive by their Imperius spells. And Snape was the headmaster. I was, for the first time in my life, not looking forward to our arrival at Hogwarts-even dreading it, for fear that the homey castle I had known would be replaced with a dark, cold place run by evil, infested by Voldemort.

Pius Thicknesse was the new Minister of Magic; to the rest of the world, no one knew that Rufus had died rather than betray Harry-no, he had "resigned." The Daily Prophet was also controlled by Death Eaters, and the front cover of every issue was plastered with Harry's picture, the caption reading-"Wanted for Questioning About the Death of Albus Dumbledore."

And of course, the "Muggle-born register."

Ginny and I were on our knees in the room we still shared, now out of habit than lack of space. Our trunks were half-full, and we were scrambling for las minute things to throw into them before our early bedtime, commanded by Mrs. Wealsey for our first day of school tomorrow. For some reason, a second school letter appeared that summer, pronouncing that we were to arrive at King's Cross station at the same place, but at 7:00 in the morning, and in our robes. So we had to wake at four A.M, and leave an hour after.

"No concern for the sleep needs of the children at all, no common decency," Mr. Weasley had grumbled.

"Of course, dear, they're Death Eaters!" His wife had answered. But I knew tension lay underneath their talk-what was the real reason for this early rousing?

"Why do they want us so early, d'you think?" Ginny wondered aloud, shutting her full to the brim trunk and locking it.

"I dunno...nothing to worry about, I'm sure," I said, leaning back with my legs curled under me.

"Nothing to worry about," she echoed, eyes traveling out the window to the darkened sky.

"Do you wonder?'

"Wonder what?" She looked at me oddly.

"Where he is. Harry."

"All the time," she confessed. "He's the symbol of Voldemort's resistance...and all that's happening...well, sometimes it feels like it's because he's gone."

"He'll be back, Gin, he will," I promised. "And..." I trailed off, already stifling the idea I'd been sitting on for a while now. It had never been spoken aloud, oblivious to any judgements other than my own. But it was about to make it's appearance.

"And...?" She prodded, crawling into bed. I followed her lead, climbing into my own and turning off the light. Our conversation would, as always, carry into the night.

"Harry. We need him. You need him. Shouldn't we try to find him?"

"But his mission. The one that Dumbledore have him, the one he can't tell us." Her voice held a note of pain.

"Who knows? Maybe we could help him. We don't need to stay with them, just temporarily."

"I don't know, Tori..."

"Well, let's think about it, alright?" I was slightly irritated. Didn't she see it? The level of resistance was dropping...was being hacked to pieces..

"Right, we will. But attendance to Hogwarts is mandatory now, we couldn't just-"

"That's why we go over the Christmas holidays. That'll give us enough time to think if over, to see if there's enough...improvement not to need him, at least immediately."

"Huh. You've thought this over."

"Well, I am a Ravenclaw," I smiled even though it was dark, the world that was so undeniably full of Hogwarts thoughts striking a reel of memories in my mind.

Julie, Lucy, Sarah, Quinn. I'd see them tomorrow. Draco. I couldn't pretend that he wasn't going to be there.

But I'd bloody well try.

"Good night, Tori," I heard the creaking of bed springs as Ginny turned over in her bed.

I didn't get to sleep for a couple of hours, tossing and turning but finally falling into a dreamless sleep.

"Alright, you first, Gi-oh Arthur, remember the first time we came here with Ginny? It was Ron's first year, and...oh, Fred and George were here...and...oh, Arthur! They're all growing up!"

"Mum," Ginny said patiently, rolling her eyes at me. Mrs. Weasley had been reminiscing from the minute she woke us up until now.

I was relieved that at least the muggle part of King's Cross Station remained the same, unchanged and familiar, although the number of muggles had decreased, and the ones that were here were glancing around edgily. Even they knew we were living in dark times.

But otherwise, it was completely normal-concrete floors and brick walls, muggles weaving around each other and looking oddly at Ginny and my luggage, which was crowded onto carts with our owls. How different could Hogwarts be, anyway?

"Alright Ginny, you first! It's 6:50 and we've got to get this show on the road!" Mr. Weasley's voice cut over the distant train whistles, and the sound of steam hissing into the air, brakes squealing.

In a blur of motion, Ginny ran through the wall and I followed, wincing as I always did when I forced myself to break through the seemingly solid mass of bricks.

A new world greeted me as I stopped next to Ginny, staring. I gasped as I took in the sight in front of us, and barely registered when Mr. and Mrs. Weasley came up behind us.

Ginny and I shared a grim look, thinking the same thing-

Hogwarts was most certainly not going to be the same this year.

A\N-Don't get your wand in a knot, I'm not going to actually have Ginny and Astoria join in with the Golden Trio in their search for Horcruxes, I promise :) Please review, and thank you to everyone for reading\reviewing.

Also, to SNITCHSTAR-thank you sooooo much for all of your lovely reviews, I'm writing this to you since I'm not able to PM you. I am so honored that you give me chapterly reviews, and I hope you continue to read my writing, I am so grateful!

Thanks everyone!

-Cassia