Dawn stumbled as she came to a stop. A firm hand steadied her, asking her if she was ok, as she doubled over wondering if all Wizarding types of transport made you lose your stomach half-way through and how the average Wizard put up with it. She straightened up and took a few deep breaths.

"I'm sorry about this," the voice said again.

"Not your fault," she said generously, eyes still tightly closed.

"No, I mean, I'm going to have to ask you to move this way. We have another incoming in about a half a minute," he said again.

"Right." She allowed him to move her a few feet as another voice, this one female called out, "Twenty seconds".

She felt a hand on her shoulder pushing her down and allowed herself to be manhandled into a seat.

"Put your head between your legs, I've heard some say that helps." She heard him move away, she assumed to help someone else when they arrived and bent over. She felt a breath of air by her ear and opened her eyes. Harry was kneeling before her looking worried, but when she tried to reassure him, he put his finger to his lips and looked around nervously. She nodded. After a few deep breaths she sat up.

The nausea had faded and she felt much better. Someone else was being helped over to the seats by a friendly-looking man in plain black robes. They looked as shaken as she felt and she felt somewhat less embarrassed as it looked like everyone suffered the same.

The official smiled at her.

"Better?"

She nodded. He smiled and glanced up at a previously unseen counter.

"How long?"

The woman glanced at some paperwork before her.

"Take fifteen," she told him.

"I'm going to grab a cup of tea," he told her. "Want anything?" The woman shook her head, still going through the paperwork.

"Well, I'm parched," he looked at Dawn. "Would you like something to drink. It'll help you feel better?"

She nodded weakly.

"Best show your paperwork, before we go."

Dawn handed in her papers and flashed her passport and followed him out of the room.

"I'm Alfibrus Lotington, call me Alfi" he said holding out his hand. She shook it even as they walked. He led her to a cafeteria and bought her a cup of hot chocolate when she asked before leading her to a table away from the main crowd.

"You're American, right?" She nodded, sipping the hot chocolate. He peered at her, eyes twinkling in amusement. "Am I going to get your name?"

"Dawn." She gave him with a little smile. Harry was just off to her right, looking a bit worried, but it wasn't like she could ask what was the matter in front of 'AlfI'.

"Nice name, business or pleasure?" He was smiling, but Dawn could feel more than a friendly inquisitiveness in his question.

"Visiting family," she lied. He smiled.

"Ya? Is it your first time in Britain?"

She nodded.

"Are they close by?"

Now she smiled.

"I just came from America, so relatively, yes!"

He actually laughed at that one.

"All right, I'll leave you alone. Are you feeling better?" She nodded. "Alright. Lets take you up to the reception area. We've floos there if you're up for them."

They left the room and we're on their way down the corridor when he glanced at his watch.

"Damn. I'll be late. It's just up that way, turn left and it's on your right." He shook her hand again. "Good luck."

"Bye." She waved at him. She turned to Harry. "What was that about?"

"I don't know. But I don't like it." He frowned at the retreating back.

Dear Professor Dumbledore,

My name is Alfibrus Lotington, I work in International Travel. A friend of mine told me about your query and asked that I keep you informed. A person passed through here today at five ten that would fit your description.

Young tourist, travelling alone, says it's her first time visiting Britain. Miss Dawn Summers, American, 15 years old, though she had charmed her passport to say different, our official noticed straight away, I don't know how our American counterpart didn't see it. She was unaccompanied and has since taken a room at the Leaky Cauldron.

I'd say Muggle-born, form her clothes and passport, she carried a wand tucked into her sleeve.

I hope this letter finds you well and the information within helps you.

Yours,

Alfi

Sunday at the Leaky Cauldron was busy with Sunday shoppers. Dawn managed to get the attention of the barman by the simple expedient of jumping up and down waving her arms.

Tom grinned his toothless grin at her.

"Are you alright, little Miss?"

"I got tired of waiting," she explained. Then asked before he could interrupt, "have you a room for the night."

"Aye, Miss." He pulled a book from under the counter. "Sign here and I'll get you a key."

She signed her name, a barely legible scrawl and he handed her over a shiny brass key.

"Number 11 Up the stairs and down to the left," he told her. She thanked him and went up the stairs and into her room.

"I'm sick of travelling!" She moaned. "And I'm sick of bloody hotel rooms and other people sheets!"

She threw down her bag and screeched when she heard a voice.

"There's nothing wrong with these sheets!"

She looked around nervously but didn't see anyone. She glared at Harry who was laughing.

"Care to share the joke?"

"It's the mirror," he wheezed.

"Huh," she peered into the mirror and gaped when her own reflection spoke.

"It's never that bad," it said in a kindly tone. She shuddered in horror and turned the mirror around.

"I never want to see that again!" She exclaimed.

Harry just kept laughing.

"Hermione's stayed as well did you stay?" Ron was fixing his collar in front of the mirror, spending more time than necessary on his appearance, Ginny thought. i After all, Hermione already knows what he looks like anyway. But at least he'd gotten his hair cut yesterday in Diagon Alley and Mum even splashed out on a new sweater, blue, which does look nice on him. /i

"She got in late last night, Mum said, that's why we didn't see her." Ginny told him. They two had stayed in the Leaky Cauldron that Sunday night in preparation for going back to school on the train that morning. "Neville's here as well."

Ron turned to look at her.

"Why was Neville off?"

Ginny looked busy with one of the ties on her trunk as she thought about the answer to that one.

"He had to be at the inquest," she said. Ron looked up from the mirror at that. He didn't turn to look at her but she could see the see his eyes tighten at that.

"What did they say? Did they say how…" He coughed gruffly and turned away.

"They ruled it an accident." She muttered. She could see Ron's shoulders stiffen at the slur to his friend, but he took a few deep breaths.

"Why did Neville have to be there then."

That was the bit that Ginny had been dreading. She stared at his back for a few moments, trying to think of a way out of answering. He waited.

i He's going to find out eventually /i , she thought resignedly.

"They're saying that it was a mistake of Neville's that caused it.

He turned suddenly and looked at her incredulously.

"What?"

She shrugged.

"That's ridiculous!"

She sighed in relief.

"Nobody really believes it," she said. "But that's what they printed in the paper."

Ron gaped.

"They didn't name Neville, did they?" he asked, horrified at the idea. Everybody in the Wizarding World would shun Neville if they thought he had been the cause of the demise of their boy hero.

Ginny shook her head.

"What are we going to do, Ginny?" Ron asked, dropping onto the nearest bed.

She didn't answer him, just sat beside him, putting an arm around his shoulder and waited until he was ready to face the world again.

"Let's go down for breakfast, then." They left the trunks and headed downstairs. Hermione was already there and she spotted them straight away, waving them over.

"How are you?" She stared intently into Ron's face as if she could she the last few weeks of suffering written on there.

i Maybe she can/i Ron thought ruefully as he took a seat opposite her.

"I'm ok," he told her and she accepted it, knowing that none of them would be really ok for a long time yet.

"I've ordered breakfast for the four of us, Neville should be down in a few minutes." She pulled out a slip of paper from her pocket then. Leaning over Ron could see, with an inward wince, that it was their school timetable. "We've missed a lot of work since we've been back so I asked Professor McGonagall to draw us up a special timetable to catch us up." Ron exchanged a smile with Ginny. "We're missing our Monday morning classes so they're being rescheduled for Wednesday afternoon just for this week."

Ron stopped listening as he glanced around the dim interior of the pub. The place was mostly empty, as could be expected on a Monday morning, except for an old man in the corner and a young girl sitting on her own at a booth opposite who looked away blushing when he caught her eye. She sat staring resolutely down at her table then and Ron was discomfited to realise that she seemed to be talking to herself.

He was reminded of the time in second year when Harry could hear the voice that nobody else could.

i Even in the Wizarding World, hearing voices that nobody else can hear is a bad sign, Harry!" Hermione said worriedly. /i

He looked away, startled at the strange prompt for this memory. He looked back just in time to see Hermione stop talking. He looked over his shoulder, following her gaze to see Neville had come down the stairs and was stopped just inside the room.

Ron came to a decision there and then. He stood, shoving the chair back almost violently and started over to where Neville stood quivering.

"Ron!" Hermione called, frightened.

Ron stood within arms reach of Neville and spoke low and furiously.

"I don't care what anybody else says, or does, what the Ministry has put out or anything," he gasped. "I don't believe a word of it. You were Harry's friend and that's all that matters."

Neville shook, tears springing up in his eyes. He nodded his thanks and allowed Ron to pull him over to the table with Hermione and Ginny who both quietly 'dittoed' what Ron said.

"Ready to get back to school?" Ginny asked in an attempt at normal.

"Yea!" Ron nodded. "Hermione has our study timetable already drawn up."

The food arrived then and Neville was saved the horror of trying to answer that question as they tucked in.

Dawn's food had arrived at the same time as the others were tucking into their breakfast so she could pretend to be busy and pretend she wasn't talking to herself. She also avoided looking at Harry who was staring at the other table with a wistful look.

"I wonder what's wrong with Neville, I've never seen Ron get that angry," he mused abstractly. Dawn sneaked a peek. The dark-haired boy sitting at the other table was picking at his food. Pushing the pieces around on his plate, not actually eating any of it.

None of them looked happy. The busy-haired girl was frowning round at everyone, nobody in particular, but just like she couldn't get that look off her face. And the red-headed ones just looked angry.

"They miss you," she said, trying to move her lips as little as possible.

"I just wish I could-"

Dawn stared at him.

"Oh, Harry, I'm sorry." She reached out to pat his hand. "I didn't really think how difficult this would be for you."

He wrapped his fingers round hers and smiled. Dawn felt that usual chill she did whenever Harry touched her. Then he glanced up.

"Oops."

Dawn looked to the table opposite where the four friends had stopped eating to stare openly.

The busy-haired girl, i Hermione /i , she remembered, managed to look embarrassed at being caught but held her gaze defiantly. Ron looked along the table thoughtfully and for a moment Harry's heart skipped a beat, or would have if it still beat, when for a second Ron seemed to hold his gaze.

He shook it off then and glanced at his wrist. They stood then, gathering up their things and left then table and the room.

"I wonder why they're here in the first place," Harry wondered. Dawn looked up as the barman, Tom, came over to clear up the table, as he passed her she caught his sleeve.

"'Scuse me, sir, who were those teenagers, over there."

"Hogwarts students, Miss Summers," he told her.

"That's what I thought," she said with an artfully contrived puzzled expression on her face. "Shouldn't they be in school?" But Tom was wilier than he looked and just nodded.

"Aye, that they should, Miss," he said, a little sadly Dawn thought. He walked off then and left her alone with no more answers than she had before.