Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to JK Rowling's characters. Any characters that are not from the world of Harry Potter are of my sole creation and I own the rights to them. This is a slightly AU story. I do not own the rights to the Beatles song "There's a Place."

Special Thanks – DamonSalvatoreLover & J-Star Black

Chapter 14

Voldemort's hand reached into his robe pocket. His hand clasped around the locket. He may have not had much anymore but he still had this. He still had a piece of her. He turned away and closed the door behind him.

The corridor was deserted at this time of the evening. He smiled to himself and continued his walk out of Hogwarts. He ceased suddenly and instead of walking towards the way out, he turned left until he reached a plain wall with an elaborate tapestry across from it. A closer look would show the wizard Barnabas the Barmy endeavoring to teach eight trolls how to do ballet. Voldemort cleared his mind, thought of one thing only as he walked past the wall three times, and opened his brown briefcase.

A hiding place for the Lost Diadem.

The Jorkins had been more than hospitable. However, Lara still felt uncomfortable staying at someone else's home. She felt as though she was a stranger and without the freedom to be herself, she felt peculiar. Moreover, she felt cooped up in this house since she could not exactly leave the home on her own. Ulysses could leave the house, but he chose to limit his excursions since he had to protect Lara and the family.

The only people that could leave the house were the Jorkins themselves. This proved to be a problem for Ulysses since he could not protect Lara and the Jorkins unless everyone was together. This meant that every trip to Hogsmeade had to be a family affair and with Mrs. Jorkins expecting her first child, they needed the protection more than ever. This meant that Lara had to accompany them. She did not mind because she was able to leave the house and looked forward to those days when she walked the streets of Hogsmeade with the Jorkins and Ulysses.

Lamentably, those trips were rare and she resided herself to the notion that she might never get to leave this house. She sat at the window seat, wrapped in a blanket, reading a novel that she had found in the bookshelf. Persuasion by Jane Austen.

She sighed and turned to look out the window. Snow was falling and it had been for the last couple of days. The roads were so covered that one would not be able to tell where the curb met the sidewalk. The snow collected upon the window in icy formations that resembled stars. She breathed upon the glass, drew a heart upon the window fog, and then quickly wiped it with the palm of her hand.

The grandfather clock chimed and she glanced over at it. Midnight. It was midnight already. Surely, it could not have been this late. She had only settled in with a book after dinner. Looking out the window, she realized that she had lost track of time and that the reflection of the snow upon the sky had made it seem much earlier than it actually was.

She pushed herself off the window seat and walked quietly upstairs. If this had been her home, she would not have had to tiptoe. If this were her home, he would have found her already. She shook her head and made a mental note to stop thinking about him. That meant no more romance novels that hit a little too close to home. Moving on meant that she would have to change several things about herself including her magical prowess or lack thereof. She frowned slightly to herself and thought that it was too late to start learning magic.

She held tightly onto the banister as if doing so would ground her more to the world. When she reached the landing, she could see faint flickering candlelight emanating from Ulysses' room. The door was slightly ajar and she could hear something that sounded like music. She peered at the door crack from afar to try to see what he was up to without looking meddlesome.

She could not see much from her limited view. All she could see was what seemed to be dark green plaid pajama bottoms and his foot tapping to the music that was playing.

There is a place,
Where I can go,
When I feel low,
When I feel blue.
And it's my mind,
And there's no time when I'm alone.

She paused to listen to the song. It was rather good. She was not used to this type of music. In fact, she had never heard it before. She was so used to the old standards and jazz music that she had sung at the café. She was pleasantly surprised to hear something so … raw.

I think of you,
And things you do,
Go 'round my head,
The things you said,
Like "I love only you."

She leaned against the wall and listened. At some moments, the song was so soft that she could hardly hear it.

In my mind there's no sorrow,
Don't you know that it's so.
There'll be no sad tomorrow,
Don't you know that it's so.

She smiled bitterly at the irony of the lyrics. No sad tomorrow? She could not even leave the house without supervision. "From one prison to another," she thought to herself.

There is a place,
Where I can go,
When I feel low,
When I feel blue.
And it's my mind,
And there's no time when I'm alone.

There's a place

The song ended and she found herself with her hand to the door. She knocked upon it before she could stop herself and squirmed as the door opened. Ulysses stood in front of her; bleary-eyed from lack of sleep and wearing green plaid pajama bottoms and a slate blue robe on top. The robe was open revealing a broad well-muscled torso. She looked away as he tied his robe close.

"Is something wrong?"

"No," she said still looking down. "Why are you still up?"

"I can't go to sleep until you have." He yawned, "I didn't want to disturb your reading."

"Oh." Lara looked up at him with wide eyes, "I didn't think you'd have to stay up for me."

"I am your protector," he smiled sleepily.

"That does make some sense." She reddened, "I lost track of time. I am sorry."

"Don't be." He shrugged, "You were productive. At least reading got your mind off of things."

"Not really."

"What did you read?"

"Jane Austen," Lara laughed.

"Ah," Ulysses smiled, "I guess I can never understand why women turn to her after a bad day."

Lara shook her head with a small smile, "No. Probably not."

Ulysses opened the door further, "Would you like to come in?"

Lara walked into the room and saw an acoustic guitar lying on the bed. She nodded towards it, "Do you play? I heard music when I passed your door."

Ulysses turned around and glanced over at the bed. He cringed and turned towards her, blushing. "Sort of."

She opened her mouth in shock. "Wait, was that you singing?"

He cringed again, "Yes. I didn't think anyone could hear."

"It was beautiful."

He went red in the face, "Thank you."

"So you like music?" Lara asked.

"Yes. Why?"

"Music is my passion." Lara smiled, her features brightening. She was very glad that she had knocked on his door. She could not get out of the house but now that she had someone to talk to, this place felt like less of a prison.

She sat down on the bed and he followed suit. She told him about how she had shirked a magical career for music and how her parents had tried to persuade her to brush up on her magic. She shook her head, "Looking back, I realize I could have done both. But, I wanted to give music my all. I should have done both. I reckon I'm too old to learn now."

"I can teach you." Ulysses offered, "You don't need to learn anything battle heavy. But, you do need to know more than just kitchen spells. I need to make you stronger first and you need to learn how to apparate."

"Apparate?" Lara's eyes widened, "I-I don't know. I'm not that good and I don't think I'll ever be."

"Don't be afraid. It's like riding a broom."

"It sounds scary."

Ulysses took hold of her hand, "You need to know how to apparate, if I'm not there to protect you and you-know-who comes along and you don't know how to; he might take you again."

Lara looked away, "You're right. But, there's this part of me that wants him to find me and I don't know why." She looked back at Ulysses, "Am I crazy?"

Ulysses' brow creased, "No. But, it's a dangerous thought. That part of you is missing who he used to be. You need to realize that he is not that man anymore."

"You know," Lara smiled bitterly, "that book I was reading."

"The Jane Austen one?"

"It said, 'All the privilege I claim for my own sex, is that of loving longest, when existence or when hope is gone.' I need to stop loving him, thinking about him, and hoping that he will feel bad about what he has done. I keep on thinking that if he repents one day that we can be together again." Her shoulders shook, "I need to stop hoping. But, this hope is all I have."

Ulysses squeezed her hand, "You'll get through this."

Lara squeezed his hand back, "That's what everyone keeps on telling me."

"And it's true." Ulysses considered his words carefully for a moment, "None of us can stop you from thinking about him. Moving on is something you have to be ready to do and it has only been a month. You need to stop beating yourself up about this because it's too soon for you to heal completely."

Lara nodded and yawned, "I should probably get to sleep. It's almost one." They both stood up and she turned to leave, "Thank you so much for talking."

He smiled at her, "Any time."

She walked towards her bedroom and crawled into bed. The flickering candlelight from across the hall stopped and she smiled to herself. Knowing that Ulysses was across the hall made her feel safe and she eased into deep sleep.

Voldemort flew through the winter air; pulling his robes tighter around his body. He was particularly happy for he had placed the Lost Diadem in the Room of Requirement. He arrogantly believed that no one knew about this room and no one would ever find it. The Diadem was lost again and no one but he knew where it was.

The sky had darkened by the time he had reached the Hog's Head. He was apathetic to the fact that his followers were still there waiting for him. He could not have cared less as they followed him to a table. He still had his hand in his robe pocket but did not realize that the locket had fallen onto the floor.

Dolohov eyed the locket and picked it up. He internally debated with himself about opening it or handing it back to the dark lord. He thought to himself, "Maybe if I open it, I will find something about the dark lord. If I know more about him than the others, I can curry his favor." He found himself opening the locket to reveal the bewitched picture of a beautiful blonde girl. Her hair blew in the wind and she smiled bashfully; her head turned to the side as though shy to look at the person taking her picture.

Dolohov handed the opened locket to Voldemort with an obsequious bow, "My lord, you dropped this."

Voldemort's eyes diverted towards the locket and the opened picture. He stared at the picture for a moment and then squeezed his eyes shut. When he reopened them, his eyes were red, "Did you open the locket?"

"Y-yes."

"Why?"

"I wanted to assist you, my lord."

Voldemort's eyes turned back to normal as he tightened his jaw and took the locket back in his hand; closing it. "No," Voldemort smirked, "I think you wanted to see if I had any secrets."

Dolohov did not speak which only reaffirmed Voldemort's statement. Voldemort continued, "I am glad to have a disciple that would go to such lengths for me. But, next time you intrude, I will not be so lenient."

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