So this is what's in store.
It doesn't hurt to try.
There is no pain in death,
it only hurts to die.
The cut that stings.
Look before you leap.
All blown apart.

dSz

For a moment I saw a way out. For a split second I had another place to go, a real home. I was prepared to go and live with a man who I believed to be a murderer only moments ago. Of course, I would do anything to get away from the Dursleys.

Then the full moon shines bright in the sky and my chance is gone. It all disappears so easily. That seems to be a trend in my life; everything disappears so easily for me, too easily.

I fall to my knees next to where my Godfather lays on the lakeshore. The surface turns to ice, drawing my gaze away from the broken man on the ground in front of me. Black, hooded figures float in the sky, gliding closer and closer until they're right on top of us.

The world falls away into a mix of despair and degradation as my worst memories play over and over in my head. Memories of a small door encasing me in darkness. Memories of a large man towering over me with a long-necked woman standing off to one side. Large hands swinging toward me, large shoes pounding across the floor. Fear, sadness, humiliation. I am almost an empty shell as I am dragged down into the last memory, which also happens to be the first.

A red-haired woman stands in front of my crib. A man with black hair stands in front of her, pointing a wand at her chest. Suddenly something snaps inside me and the image becomes distorted. Like a picture played on an old, broken television the view becomes distorted and wavy. Something is wrong. No, not wrong, just…different.

dSz

December 17th 3AM, Saturday

The world swirled around me as I drifted in and out of consciousness. Every time I began to lift my eyelids my strength would leave me and my mind would drift away once again. Finally I no longer attempted to open my eyes and chose to just lay on the ground instead, eyes closed but listening to what was occurring around me the best I could.

"Bloody hell, I can't believe he just shot her like that!" Draco exclaimed.

"I can," replied Khalida, "Did you see the look in his eyes? He seemed to be frightened of us and when you shot that spell at him he appeared to be scared witless. Are you sure he's okay?"

"Yeah, I just stunned him. He should wake in a day or so; the spell came out a bit more powerful then usual. Do you think Jenny will be okay?"

"I hope so. I wish I knew where in the hell we are."

"Why don't you ask one of the Brotherhood?" Draco questioned, "They are the ones that brought us here after all."

"I tried to ask the second in command and all he would say is that we are someplace safe," Khalida assured him.

"I don't care if it is safe, this place gives me the creeps," Draco responded and I could feel him shift next to me. A moment later a cool, wet cloth was pressed against my forehead and their voices faded away.

Perhaps I was dying, I had no real way of knowing for certain that I wasn't. A barrage of thoughts and memories made their way to the front of my mind, all of them jostling for one position. Whispers of words spoken in the past echoed through the darkness.

"It is a place created from your father's mind."

"I smelled it on you when you walked in. His clone, his copy, his heir, his seed."

"She sucked them dry, that's what she did. Changed them, molded them, created them, destroyed them!"

"The bond is not like the one that Harry and I share although it does seem as if Harry used our bond as a model. But the bond Harry shares with this other person is not a bond of magic but merely a bond of life."

"I felt you when you lay dormant in your mother's womb. The older you become and the more the darkness grows within you, the more you call out to those that would follow you and kneel before you."

"From the moment the dream takes root in your thoughts it changes your destiny forever."

"It was ironic really that his only weakness came in the form of one he should have wanted to destroy."

"You are meant to be our one, true master. The Dark Lord's daughters were not able to take on this responsibility."

"There is no one who can stand against me. Yet everyone must have a weakness, and she is mine."

"The maker's lair...The maker's lair…"

"The beast walked as a man, spoke as a man, and appeared as a man. A man formed as I was formed. A man created as I was created."

I was walking through ashes again. I recognized the debris surrounding me. How could I not recognize the house I had lived in for eighteen years? Once again I was searching for something, but I didn't know what it was I searched for, or why I wanted it. A memory began to shape and form.

My hand was on the door to my father's study once again. I opened the door and saw him writing in a small book. When he looked up at me he smiled and closed the book. This memory was different from all the rest. This time my father did not pick up the book and carry it from the room, instead he left it on his desk.

Time quickened and the world bled away into blurred shapes and muffled words. It was night and my stocking clad feet made little sound on the carpet as I made my way over to my father's desk. I picked up the little book and brought it to the window. I flipped through the book and realized it was my father's journal.

Suddenly I felt a tug at the back of my mind. Something or someone was urging me to continue my investigation. A feeling of guilt washed over me and I attempted to drop the book but my hands wouldn't listen. Instead I waved the book wildly as I tried to dislodge it from my fingers.

The white pages flipped haphazardly as the book finally fell from my hands. I glared down at the neat and tidy handwriting, at the same time attempting to look away. The moonlight was shining on one word in particular, a word that I didn't understand and had never heard before. As I stared down at the strange word I thought I heard a small shout of victory echo in the back of my mind.

My fingers clawed at my forehead as the scarred flesh began to burn. Draco and Khalida were at my side immediately. I weakly fought against them as they tugged my hands away and held them at my sides.

"Homun…." I rasped out in a throaty whisper.

"I think she said something," Draco stated fervently and Khalida nodded in reply. "What is it Jenny? What's wrong?"

"Homuncu…" I began but my voice trailed off.

The word seemed to lodge in my throat each time I attempted to repeat it, but Khalida must have had an idea of what I was getting at because her eyes widened in surprise. Draco noticed her change in demeanor and sent her a questioning look.

"It can't be," Khalida ground out harshly, "Gilgamesh never would have allowed…"

"Allowed what?" interrupted Draco. Khalida remained silent, turning her attention to me as I opened my mouth once again. The word came out in a low hiss that could almost be mistaken for Parselmouth.

"Homunculus…"

"What in the hell does that mean?" Draco questioned.

"Where did you hear that word?" Khalida asked softly.

"I didn't hear it," I replied hoarsely, "I read it. My father wrote it in his journal. I don't know why I dreamt about it now but…what does it mean?" Draco and I both looked at Khalida expectedly.

"I will explain it when you are feeling better," Khalida responded with a sigh, "Until then do not give it a second thought." I nodded in reply since I was much too tired to argue.

A small groan escaped me as Draco ran his hand over my cheek. His soft gray eyes stared into mine and for a moment I was taken aback by the compassion there. Draco nodded slightly in silent understanding and slowly lay down next to me. I gave his hand a small squeeze as he laced his fingers into my own. This was man would always be more than a boyfriend or lover, he would be my friend…my Enkidu.

December 18th 4PM, Sunday

The young man sitting in front of us opened his eyes blearily and then started in surprise. He scanned each of our faces before looking around the small room in which he resided. Relief flooded his features as he realized that he was in his own small cottage. He shifted nervously in the large brown armchair while Khalida, Draco and I studied him from the tattered gray couch. Finally his eyes met mine and both of us stared at the other in confusion.

"Who are you?" we both asked at the same time.

"I already told you who I am," I replied quickly, "I'm Jenny Riddle, Harry's daughter."

"Nonsense," the brown-haired man said with a derisive snort, "Harry had no daughter, he had a son." Draco and Khalida gasped.

"Who are you?" I asked as I stared into the familiar brown eyes.

"If Harry didn't tell you about me then how did you find me?" the man asked, effectively ignoring my question, "And why should I tell you who I am?"

"Because if you don't," Draco growled as he pulled out his wand, "I'll hex you into next week."

"You tried to kill the only person I care about in this world," he continued and I blushed at his statement, "It wouldn't take much for me to kill you right here, right now."

The brown-haired man nodded dumbly as he stared at the wand with a mixture of fear and longing. Draco had assured Khalida and I earlier that the man was a muggle but it was obvious that this stranger had come into contact with wizarding folk before.

"Charles Smith," he replied simply and my mind was sent into chaos even though it was the answer I was expecting.

"If you're Charles Smith," Draco began thoughtfully, "then who is the other Charles Smith and how do you know Harry." Smith gave Draco a puzzled look.

"I have no idea what you're on about," the man replied, "but as far as I know I'm the only Charles Smith. Harry was the one who helped me go into hiding, he said no one would ever find me here."

"Ha!" Draco exclaimed loudly, making us all jump, "You two thought I was stupid for saying Harry Potter would use a snake as a secret keeper!"

"Shut it Draco," Khalida bit out angrily, "We have bigger things to worry about at the moment."

I ignored their little argument and continued to study the quiet man in front of me. I had no doubt that he was the real Charles Smith but that created a problem. If this was Charles Smith then who was the man that I had met claiming to be Charles Smith? Who was the man who had been living as Charles Smith for years now? Obviously the two were connected but how could I be sure this man was who he claimed to be.

"What did you create when you were in London?" I asked slyly. Smith smiled slightly, understanding the question for the test that it was.

"Brooms," he replied and then added, "among other things…" His voice trailed off suspiciously causing me to wonder what the "other things" were. Draco must have been thinking along the same lines.

"What kind of other things?" Draco asked curiously.

"O you know," Smith replied with a shrug, "just…things." On the last word his eyes fell on me and a shiver ran down my spine as he studied me intently.

"Why did you go into hiding?" Khalida questioned.

"There was an accident," the man replied morosely, "and I became very ill. I never fully recovered and it was no longer safe for me in the wizarding world."

"What was a muggle doing in the wizarding world in the first place?" Draco asked in confusion.

"I wasn't always a muggle," Smith replied angrily.

"You lost your magic," Khalida hissed under her breath and Smith nodded sadly.

"But how…" I began.

"Like I said," Smith interrupted, "It was an accident. Harry and I helped each other. He helped me with my inventions and…creations while I helped him with his own creations."

"What sort of creations?" I questioned.

"New spells," Smith responded solemnly, "We were working on creating a new spell and something went wrong. I was unconscious for a few days and when I awoke my magic was gone."

"I can't even imagine…" Draco stammered, "I'm so sorry."

"We all make mistakes," Smith replied as his eyes met mine, "but some mistakes can be turned into miraculous discoveries."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Well, I'm back from Atlanta and ready to give this story the attention it truly deserves. Thanks for reading!