Elizabeth was getting used to looking through the many rooms of Weasley Tower, just for something to do. She felt awful, thinking that she was mooching off Ron and Hermione. She confronted them about it, and she had to explain to them what mooching was before they told her that they didn't mind the extra body in the huge castle of a house.

She found pieces of history in the old house that no one seemed to know about. Of course, Ron and Hermione just bought the house on impulse, and having enough money supporting it, made the house into their home. They tended to stay on the first two floors and the top floor (where Ron set up his indoor quidditch field).

As Elizabeth dug around a newly discovered room (this was a surprise. More than a few times, Elizabeth thought she'd found the last of the new rooms), she noticed a diary. It wasn't magical—to Elizabeth's disappointment—but she felt like reading it, anyway. She opened it to the middle of the diary, to find it blank. She flipped the pages back to find the last page the person had written on.

'Mandalynn Hades - October 30, 1711

What have I done? My life, or what I thought was my life, has turned for the worst. Tomorrow, a child shall be born of my blood. An evil child. Satan's child. He will govern hell as I know it. And he will be born of my blood. His name, as I was instructed, will be Morpheus, and he shall inherit the sinister gift of metamorphmagism.

I had no choice. He made me. At nine months marks the morrow, I had forgotten to attend the Lord's Mass in my feverish illness. In my illness, he came to me. He took control of me. Torturing me. Telling me I had to bear his heir. I begged for mercy. I prayed and he tortured me more.

'God dost not listen to you,' he says, 'He has forsaken you and you are mine.' At these last words, such pain as I had never known came down and entered my weakened corpse.

I was then born again, to a new life. I awakened, and a fake health was restored to my once-withered body. The townspeople would tell me after that I had an unnatural glow to my skin and hair.

They had thought it to be a warm glow…ha! I was cold, forever cold, after that encounter. It was as if I was abandoned, marked, as one for the service to the evil bane of the world's existence.

What am I doing about it, you ask? Nothing. He told me, that if I were to commit suicide, to kill the child within me, I would be sent to him, and he would make my afterlife worse than what was possible in any worlds. The child would then be born to some other unsuspecting virgin and I would watch as the next girl was corrupted. As she screamed as I had screamed. Bled as I had bled.

I give in. I do not want any other girl to harbor this pain. In theory, this makes me a martyr; in truth, this makes me a coward. Martyrs make it to the Lord's Mass, even if they are bedridden with sickness. I am no martyr. I am but a weak and helpless woman who can not do anything about her plight…'

Elizabeth couldn't bear to read anymore. She slammed the diary, which was so filled with pain, closed.

'Do things like this really happen?' she thought.

Elizabeth couldn't tell if the woman was witch or muggle. 'It would make perfect sense if she was a witch, but then, why wouldn't she be able to do anything about the kid?'

If she was correct, the boy's name would have been Morpheus Hades…Elizabeth shuddered. She got up and left the now sinister-feeling room.

"Hermione?" Elizabeth asked, once Hermione got home from her job.

"Hmm?" she responded.

"What's metamorphmagism?"

"It's where the person can change their looks, like their hair, their face, whatever. But they can't change themselves into anything other than a humanoid shape," she explained.

"I see," Elizabeth muttered as she mused about the diary. 'That would explain why his name was Morpheus,' she thought. 'Boy, Satan had no creativity.' She smiled inwardly at her joke about the devil.

Every once and awhile, Harry would come to visit. He and Elizabeth were getting really close. Elizabeth found herself waiting for those days she would see him.

Dumbledore, himself, went to visit Harry in his flat to make sure he was alright.

"Professor, I assure you, I'm quite fine…"

"Are things getting better?" Dumbledore asked.

"With Elizabeth? Yes. She's warming up to me, now. I think she's starting to feel all those things she felt before. I'm not sure, though…"

"Just be careful, Harry. Evil is stirring. I suspect that you might want to listen to that one call you received when you returned to your office," Dumbledore advised.

"The one where the man wanted me to go to Ireland?" Harry asked.

"Yes. Now then, I am satisfied that you are flourishing under the current circumstances. I will go. I'm happy to see you looking well, Harry. Good bye," said Dumbledore.

"Good bye, Professor," replied Harry as Dumbledore walked out of his apartment. Harry had an anti-disapparation jinx on his apartment.

Around April, Hermione found out she was pregnant, again. Elizabeth was by her side when Ron couldn't get there, and helped her through a lot of the beginning depression and despair. Hermione was worried that this child was going to die, also.

Elizabeth was getting confused. Harry would stop by once a week. She noticed her feelings festering and growing into something she couldn't explain. She felt helpless about her situation with her memory and she knew she could do nothing. It was eating at her thoughts and dreams. She just couldn't just love Harry like a normal person, possibly because she wasn't a normal person. Of course, loving him would have been the next logical step in their relationship, but Elizabeth felt frightened to take that step. Uncertainty made her restless.

One night, she just couldn't take it. She woke up, after a dream of watching someone's death (her own), and got out of bed. She got dressed in muggle clothes. She grabbed her trunk and started packing as quietly as she could move. When she was all ready, she clutched her trunk and broom and headed downstairs. She snuck around to the potions cabinet that Hermione used. She put her things down as she opened the cupboard.

"Beelzebulb, Beelzebulb…where is it?" she muttered desperately as she looked for the infamous vine. "Ah ha!" she whispered in triumph. She took a small, skinny box, labeled 'Beelzebulb,' and, getting her things, Elizabeth walked out of Weasley Tower into the night.

Harry woke up to a glorious morning, with sunlight pouring through his window. He tried imagining he was still at Weasley Tower, but he knew he was in his flat in London. He could imagine Elizabeth waking up late, and Hermione still waiting for her to go down to breakfast. Hermione would be giving Ron coffee, something she introduced him to.

'Right,' he thought, 'I have the day off, today.' He rubbed his eyes and put on his glasses. Anyone who knew him would know where he was going on a day such as this. He got dressed and walked out his door. Then he apparated to Weasley Tower.

"Hermione, what are we to do? Look for her?" Ron asked.

"She's not a child, Ron. If she wants to leave, that's her decision. We should have expected her to go. Did you see how flustered she was after Harry's last visit?"

"That doesn't matter. She's not stable." Ron argued. "Harry's going to have a fit…"

Then there was a knock at their door.

"Oh no," Ron moaned.

"Don't worry. It's probably her right now," Hermione reassured as she walked to the door.

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Were you expecting someone else?" Harry asked with a lopsided grin.

"Actually, yes. We were. Come in, come in. Would you like anything to drink?" Hermione rambled.

"What's with the formalities?" Harry asked as he stepped through the doorway. He immediately knew something was wrong.

"You should sit down, Harry," Ron said with a false lightness.

"What's going on? Where's Elizabeth? Still Sleeping? I should've known. She'll sleep through the end of the world and not even notice it…"

"Harry," Hermione said slowly. "Elizabeth's gone."

Harry felt his chest deflate. He couldn't believe it. He wouldn't believe it. She couldn't be gone. She can't die…

"She's not dead, Harry," said Ron, "She left in the middle of the night."

"Where'd she go?" Harry asked.

"We don't know. She took her trunk and she took one of the plants from my potions cupboard," Hermione explained.

"Which plant?" Ron questioned. Hermione hadn't told him that.

"One of the vines of Beelzebulb," Hermione answered.

"You're kidding," said Harry. When he was in Auror training, one of the more crucial points was 'never trust a thing that can think if you can't see where it keeps its brain.' Of course, Arthur Weasley had told Ginny that when Harry was in his second year, and he remembered it ever since. It surprised him that Elizabeth could be so foolish as to even think of using the evil plant for a get-away.

"No. This is no joke," Hermione said solemnly.

"What do we do?" Ron asked for the second time.

"Well, she is above the legal age to do what she wishes. If we really wanted to see her again, I guess we'd have to…"

"Hermione, listen. Elizabeth is not mature enough to make a life for herself from scratch without anything. She's still seventeen, mentally. We have to find her. I'll add her to the list of missing persons and get to work on locating her," Harry snapped.

"But if she's left the country, then we can't do anything to bring her back…"

"The legal age in the States is eighteen. We can hope she went there, and then we'd be able to bring her back…"

"Harry, mate, if she doesn't want to come back, then what's the use?" Ron asked slowly.

"What makes you think she won't want to come back?" Harry inquired fiercely.

"It's not like she was captured or something, Harry. She left of her own free will…"

"Then I'm going to find her to ask her," Harry said resolutely.

Hermione shook her head. She could tell that Harry did not understand why Elizabeth departed. "I have a feeling she wants to be alone…"

"She'll be alone," Harry retorted, "Until I find her and bring her back."

"You can't keep her locked up here! She hated it! I'm surprised she didn't leave before this!" Hermione yelled.

Harry looked like he had been struck in the face. That's exactly what he had done to her. Locked her up in this monster of a house with visits from him once a week. Like an animal. Realization stung and left a bitter taste in his mouth as he now understood why Dumbledore had kept him and Sirius locked away from the outside world. For his own good. And he had just done the same thing to Elizabeth. The very thing he hated.

"How could I have been so stupid?!" Harry slapped himself in the forehead.

"That's not the only reason why she disappeared," Hermione started. "Apparently, her memories hadn't recovered, yet. She simply loathes being helpless, and when she is, it leads her to do reckless things…"

"She does reckless things, anyway," Ron cut in.