AN:// I just realized I didn't name the last chapter. Oops. I guess I'll do it now. It's called… ummm… Revelations? Yeah… Chapter Three was called Revelations. Now foar Chapter Four. Err. Yeah…

I'm not JKR. I'd probably have published this, if I was. And no one would be very happy with me. And the main character wouldn't be called Joana. So there.

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"Change yourself so it looks uninjured. You don't want Sister finding out, do you?"

I shook my head, and focused on my hand healing. When I looked back down again, it appeared as though the whole incident had never happened, but when I gingerly brushed where the wound had been with my fingers, sharp, stinging pain rippled around my entire forearm.

Tom regarded my handiwork, smiling. He removed my scarf from around my neck and folded it up neatly. He placed it next to his on the bottom shelf of our wardrobe. All the while, I remained perfectly still, scared witless. Tom straightened up and started talking, without turning around.

"I can make bad things happen to people who are mean to me. Never forget that." I swallowed, my dry throat able to force out a couple of strangled words.

"I won't."

"Good," he said, swiveling round and grinning warmly. "Now, let's go down to lunch." He took my bad hand and half-dragged me out of the room.

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Chapter Four –

"How can he do that?" Harry roared. "We've got to get her out! Now!"

"Harry…" Hermione began. But Harry had already wrenched the Time Turner round her neck and was about to slip the golden chain around his own.

"Hey!" Ron yelled. "Back off!" The taller boy glared down at Harry, eyes emanating anger. All impulsion left him, and he let his arms fall limply to his sides, the Time Turner clattering as it fell on the floor. Hermione scooped it up quickly and replaced it around her throat.

"I just… I can't watch him hurt her. How would like it if Ginny was there? Can you imagine that?" Harry whispered dejectedly. Hermione gently took his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"Harry, we know this must be the hardest thing in the world for you, don't you dare say we don't; but you've got to understand that we need to do this. The only time we can get her out is when her life is in danger."

Harry sighed, defeated. He understood – of course he did – but he still had trouble accepting it. He bit his lip and sank down onto a nearby chair. To his surprise, two warm, salty tears slid down his cheeks. He barely knew this girl; but his emotional attachment to her was so strong, it was as if he'd been with her his whole life. A protective instinct reared up inside him – different to the one he felt with Ginny. This was more like the love he felt towards Hermione: the urge to look after her. Like a brother.

"You know, when this is all over, she's going to be the luckiest kid alive," Ron said, clapping his hand on Harry's shoulder. "You'll be the best big brother ever, I can tell."

"Thanks," said Harry gruffly, smiling weakly. "I'm sorry I over-reacted."

"S'okay, mate. Like you said, I'd be the same way if it were Ginny." Beside them, Hermione let out a groan.

"I am so glad it's not Ginny. The two of you would be hopeless to work with!"

The two boys gave her sheepish grins, and the three of them laughed…

The silence between Tom and me was icy and unbearable. I was angry at him, and terrified too, but I needed him to talk to me. I snuck a glance at his pale face that was staring at the wall on the other side of the hall. His eyes almost made me gasp with shock; they were cold, so cold! Normally they held a spark of warmth deep within them that one might miss if you didn't know him well enough, but right now looking into his eyes was like diving into a lake in the middle of winter.

"Tom…" I whispered, regretting opening my mouth the second the words had passed my lips. He cast his wintry gaze over me and I shrunk into my seat.

"I'm sorry, a-about before. I just… It won't happen again," I stammered in an undertone, eyes wide and scared.

"It better not," said Tom calmly. "I'm only trying to protect us, Jo."

"I know."

"Good," he said, smiling. "You haven't touched your lunch. Are you not hungry?"

"Not really… But I'll eat it if you want me to."

"That would be nice," Tom's eyes sparkled with affability. "And by the way… you eyes have gone white. Changing them back would be advisable."

"Oh!" I gasped, redness rising to my cheeks. "Thank you." Tom only smiled in response. We ate the rest of our lunch in silence.

After we'd left the lunch hall, Tom decided we should go and try using some more magic.

"We should go outside where people can't see," he told me, leading the way along the winding, windowless corridors that would eventually take us to the orphanage's back courtyard. Tom and I almost never went there; the four walls that boxed you in once you were in there made us both feel nervous and uneasy. The unusual stillness that hung around was very unnerving – but it also meant that we were unlikely to be walked in on by any of the other children.

The thin, rotting door that separated inside from out squeaked harshly as Tom pushed it open, revealing a cobbled, square area of land. There was a single, dying tree off to one side, whose sparse leaves rustled eerily in a non existent wind. I shivered.

Making his way over to the tree, Tom came to a stop in front of it and hesitated for a moment. I halted just behind him.

"Jo…" he said, twisting around to look at me. "Are you sure you want to do this? I mean, it could be dangerous." He looked at me with deep concern etched into his face. His apparent anxiousness over my well being made my heart flutter slightly, and I didn't know why.

"No, as long as you're here I'll be fine," I said, inwardly cringing at how cliché I sounded. Tom smiled and chuckled gently.

"Good. Let's try it, then." He slumped back against the tree and I sat down facing him. His dark eyes stared at the sky for a while, and then focused on the wall behind me. "I'm trying to make that wall explode," he said quietly. "Think it'll work?"

"Sure," I grinned, understanding that Tom was joking. He flashed a wicked smile at me, and focused, his eyes storming. I waited patiently, knowing he would give up soon.

Sure enough, he cast his gaze to the floor and sighed.

"Maybe we should start with something smaller," I suggested. Standing up, I snapped two twigs off of the brittle tree above us and placed them on the ground. "We'll try and make them move." Tom nodded, and again become fixated on his target. Following his example, I stared intently at my own.

Thinking it might help, I tried to empty my mind. I thought of nothing of making the twig move; even just making it twitch. I forgot about everything else – the pressing silence, Tom's presence next to me, the cold, hard cobbles underneath me that were making my bum go numb. I forgot about breathing, just mumbling over and over to myself move, move, make it move…

…That is, until Tom started laughing. His voice made me lose concentration and I looked up at him, glaring.

"What?" I demanded angrily. In between gasps of laughter, Tom was able to choke out his explanation.

"Y… You… You're g-going purple!"

"What?" I asked again, this time in disbelief. I looked down at my bare arms to see if his words were true – and was embarrassed to find that they were. My arms had undertaken a purpley-blue tinge; not dissimilar to the blueberries Sister sometimes bought us as a treat and the spots found on white shirt went after we'd been blackberry picking.

"Oh…"

Whilst Tom got over his laughing fit, I concentrated on returning my skin to its normal colour. At first, I went too pale and began to panic that I wouldn't be able to turn back. But after a little more effort, I found the right skin tone.

"It wasn't funny," I said through gritted teeth, looking up at Tom who was wiping tears from his eyes.

"I suppose not," he said, holding back snickers. "Let's get back to work, all right?"

I nodded, happy to forget the whole thing. I turned my attention back to my stick, and resolved to not focus quite so hard this time. As I settled down for my second attempt, I felt a warm tingle in my fingertips. It felt powerful, but I wasn't scared by it.

It was as if I had been doing it my whole life. I simply willed the twig to move, and it did.

"Tom! Tom, look! I'm doing it! It's moving!" I exclaimed, my voice bordering on a squeal. "Tom! Tom?"

He wasn't replying. I wanted to find out why, but also didn't want to interrupt my concentration. It was then that a strange odour hit my nostrils.

"Can you smell burning?"

Not being able to bear it any longer, I tore my eyes away from the stick and looked up at Tom. I was shocked by what I saw.

It was Tom, but not the boy I knew. The boy who loved, care for and protected me. This child in front of me didn't look capable of loving anyone or anything. There was fire in his eyes, and evil etched into every inch of his face. The twig was consumed entirely by a violet cascade of flames, burning with enough persistence to be worthy of a log fifty times its size.

The purple bonfire reflected in Tom's eyes, causing them to go a terrifying grey colour. That mixed with his demonic smile created a spine chilling image, and for a moment I was frozen with fear.

"Tom," I whispered, his stormy eyes holding my vision hostage. "Stop."

The boy blinked. The fire went out. He went back to being my Tom.

"Thank you."

"Jo… my Jo-Jo… I…" He started to speak, possibly to issue me with an apology, but was distracted by something over my shoulder. His eyes narrowed and he uttered one word.

"Billy."

I whirled around.

Saw a boy only a few years older than Tom and I.

Knew he had seen the whole thing.

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Aaaand that's your lot for now, my lovlies. Let me know what you think, because reviews do help me get loads of work done. Until next time, then! Adieu! :3

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