Author's note: There will be a Mary-sue in here. Not necessarily in this chapter, but there will be one. She has a purpose, and she won't be with us for long. I will crush her like a bug! On with the story!

Chapter Two: Life goes on

Over the next few days Harry found out more about his unusual guests. They were cultured, and enjoyed music, fine art and classic literature. They didn't mind working hard; indeed they seemed to enjoy the challenge. Alexander and Alister even started to do his garden, but after a few hours of strenuous work and little progress made, they claimed that the job may take a lot longer than they anticipated by hand, and resorted to wands instead. He also found out that they were wand carriers, like him, and were more adept at wandless and silent magic than anyone he'd ever met. They even surpassed Hermione, which was no mean feat.

Amara continued to keep her face covered, and Harry continued to politely ignore this, even though his curiosity grew to an unbearable level. Only her companions, who Harry later discovered to be her brothers, ever saw her without her hood. When they left her room in the evenings, Harry swore he could see sadness in their eyes. He had never once visited her in the evenings, as he thought this to be a bad idea, but the time came when he desired answers, and he was going to get them.

It was a few evenings later, and Harry had decided that day that tonight was the night that the answers would come. At around 10p.m. he walked up the stairs. The boys had gone out to the cinema, at Harry's recommendation, for they were also very fond of certain muggle entertainments. He reached Amara's door. He knocked. No-one had told her that her brothers were out. She answered his knock, telling him to enter. As Harry opened the door, he saw her sat at the dressing table. She didn't have her hood on. Or her cloak.

'I knew you'd come' she said, turning to face him. Harry gasped at the sight. There was a scar on her face, trailing all the way down, and right under her robes. It was reasonably recent. It was on the left side of her face starting just above her eyebrow; missing her eye by centimetres, millimetres even.

'How did it…I mean what…?' his voice trailed off as she turned away from him.

'It was a few months back,' Amara began 'My family ran a foul of the ministry. Papa was accused of a major breach of the ban against experimental breeding. You might have heard about it. It was a salamander that lived in ice rather than fire. Nothing to do with me or my family. Anyway, the ministry sent some of their people over on a raid. They found nothing, but they accused my father of hiding the evidence. He swore that he didn't but they said he was lying. A fight broke out, wands and fists, stunning spells and hexes flying everywhere; the rest of my family dropping like flies. We're the youngest of seven children, and us being triplets we couldn't split up. We made a break for it, through the door, but they saw us. One of the meanest sent a curse at us. I didn't know what kind it was, only that it wasn't going to be pretty if one of us got hit so I pushed the boys out the way and took the blow myself. It didn't hurt as much as you would think; it just left a big mark. Alexander tried to make it less umm…what's that word? Ummm…conspicuous…that's the one. It worked to some extent. I haven't heard anything from my parents, save a patronus from Mama to say that they were safe, but under house arrest. We came here, asking for shelter here and there along the way, sometimes refused, and sometimes taken in. We were never given much wherever we went. You're the first person to treat us with respect' she smiled mournfully.

'I thought it was ministry policy to not attack where it isn't necessary, to keep the peace?' said Harry, looking very confused. 'How…how low does it go? The scar I mean?' He closed his eyes and groaned when she pointed to the bottom of her ribcage.

'It is policy, for wizards and witches like you. My people are different. The ministry treat us like vermin. Worse than rats, and little better than the fleas that bite them. All because we're different'

'Why would they do that?' asked Harry, shifting slightly on the bed where he had sat down.

'Who knows?' replied Amara. 'Life goes on however, and our job is to live it, no matter what happens'

'So how are you different?' asked Harry, gathering confidence.

'We are different because of our origins. Our ancestors practiced mysterious magic, but did not go anywhere near the Dark Arts. My people's life spans far outrank those of your own people and of muggles. Legend states that other wizards and witches accused our race of practising Dark Arts because of our wealth. They didn't understand that we were wealthy through hard work over generations'

'I see' said Harry.

'I think I've told you enough' whispered Amara.

'You could at least tell me the name of your race' said Harry. 'I might know something about them. I've got a friend who could help you'

'I don't know. You have to promise not to tell anyone from the ministry'

'I swear'

'Ok. My race is called the Circini. Other than that I cannot say' Amara turned back to the mirror.

'Ok, ok. I'll stop asking questions. Well, I do have one more'

'Is it about me, my brothers or may race?'

'No, well that is to say, it's sort of about you'

'What then?'

'Have you had dinner?'

WELL WHAT DO YOU THINK? I WON'T BE UDATING FOR A WHILE COZ I'M OFF ON MY HOLS!!!!!! DISNEYLAND HERE I COME!!! SEE YA!