Thanks to everyone who read, fav'd and alerted. Most of all, of course, to those who reviewed. Though quite honestly, do I really need to complain? 2 is okay, but when I complained I suddenly had 7. PLEASE, guys.

"There you are," Tom said. "I feel like I haven't seen you in ages."

"It's been two days," I chided with a small smile. "And I've been busy."

"Ah, the Prophet's keeping you up."

That was hardly the case, I thought. I had spent almost all of the last two days researching on possible causes for the nightmares plaguing me. I had found nothing sensible. Dream interpretation by a few mad Seers was not good for anything.

"There's a lot of work to do," I said vaguely.

Tom smiled, oblivious to my distress. "You're doing good work."

"Thanks."

"You could've gotten a more important job, of course-"

"I'm happy," I said with finality. "I wouldn't want any other job."

"I'm glad," he said and I sent him another smile.

"Listen," he added. "We got news to be published. Severus is going to be Headmaster."

My eyes widened at his words. "Of Hogwarts?"

"Of what else?"

"Er- all right," I said, trying to gather my wits. "I'll put that in."

"And add that our dear friends, the Carrows, will teach there now as well."

"The Carrows?" I repeated incredulously. "You want to let that loose on pupils?"

"Lorraine, please," Tom said warningly.

"Snape, all right, I can go with that," I said. "But the Carrows? They're both dumb and cruel. Not an ideal combination."

"You have no say in the matter," he said coldly. "Put it in the paper and be done with it."

I crossed my arms. "I can't believe you. Ruining Hogwarts? The one place where we have been truly happy and you're destroying it."

"Am not."

"Are too," I said. "The Carrows, I don't believe it..."

"Will you put it in or not?"

"'Course I will," I told him. "Doesn't mean I like it."

"Well, you don't have to," he stated. "Just do as you're told for once."

I sneered at him. "Fine, whatever you want."

He did not look all too pleased, after all.

"It was very valuable information," Arthur Weasley acknowledged.

I sat on his desk while he leant against the wall of his office, watching me warily. "Good."

"Many of my... friends do not trust you."

"They don't need to trust me," I scolded. "They just need to accept my help."

"Really? Well, lists of missing persons won't do to convince them," he said. "We need something a little more substantial."

"Demanding, are we?" I said jumping of the table and taking the two steps I needed to stand in front of him. "And what do you think I can tell you?"

He groaned and threw his hands in the air. "Anything that we can use," he offered. "Like – we know Death Eaters attacked Harry in a coffee shop about four weeks ago."

I frowned at him. "How do you know that?"

"We got our sources."

I forced myself to smirk at him. "Then what information do you need?"

"How did they find him?" he asked.

I laughed dryly. "Oh, we're going straight for the big things, yes?"

He did not answer me; he just waited for my answer.

"It's the taboo," I told him. "They put it on the Dark Lord's name."

He sighed heavily. "Of course. Harry always uses the name."

"Well, he almost paid for it," I said. "But that's the reason."

"That is indeed very important info," he said. "Thank you."

"Welcome," I said. "Now if you'll excuse me. I actually have a job."

"Me too," he growled. "You heading for the lifts?"

"Yes," I said slowly.

He held the door open for me and then followed me down the corridor towards the lifts. We did not talk anymore; there was no reason to make anyone think we were on friendly terms.

We stood in front of the lifts waiting for one to arrive. It finally opened with a distinct 'ding' "Level Two. Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

We stepped inside and found that the lift was in fact not empty.

"Oh, hello Reg," Arthur Weasley greeted a drenched, shaking wizard just as I said, "Morning, Runcorn."

Both mumbled their greetings before Weasley said to the dripping man, "Isn't your wife in questioning today? Er – what's happened to you? Why are you so wet?"

"Yaxley's office is raining," the wizard mumbled.

"Still?" I inquired.

"I couldn't stop it, so they've sent me to get Bernie – Pillsworth, I think they said-"

"Yes, a lot of offices have been raining lately," Weasley told him.

I turned away from their conversation and toward Runcorn. "You still owe a report," I told him.

"Do – do I?"

"Yes," I said. "You wanted to give me the dates on the Muggle-born registration, remember? I asked you for that a week ago."

"I'll... uh... I'll send my assistant to you with the report."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Fine, just make him hurry."

The lift jolted to a halt and the usual voice announced, "Level 5 – Department of International Magical Cooperation."

"Good day, Runcorn," I said, stepping out of the lift. I almost got run over by Percy Weasley and send a glare in his direction before the lift's doors closed behind him.

Tom found me, sitting on my living room floor, surrounded by dozens of open books.
Had I known he was coming, I would have been sure to put them away. Too great was my fear that he might venture into the depth of my nightmares, that he might want to see what these dreams really were about.
It was too late now, though.

"What are you doing?"

"Research," I said vaguely, hoping he'd drop the subject. I had no such luck.

"Research on what?"

"Well-"

He bent down and picked up one of the books. "Nightmares Unravelled – What Your Dreams Really Mean," he read aloud.

I did not bother to answer and he picked up another one.

"Dorian Doryan's Lexicon of Devilish Dreams," he said. "Is there a specific reason for this nonsense?"

I sighed heavily and snatched the book from his hands. "Yes, there is."

"How about you elaborate?"

I bit my lip. "I keep having these nightmares," I told him hesitantly."

"About what?" Tom inquired. "'Cause Dorian Doryan thinks it's mostly running and not getting away or falling forever."

I pulled a face and snatched the book from him. "You and I – we're together. But then, you... you turn into a snake and you attack me."
I blushed furiously and half expected him to laugh. He did not. His eyes narrowed at me, but his voice was almost gentle as he asked, "For how long?"

"It's really not-"

"Lorraine!"

"A few months," I relented. "But it gets worse."

"I see," Tom said.

"You do? I thought it's maybe an after-effect of Azkaban. But why now? Then I thought it's some weird form of precognition, but I don't really think you'll turn into a snake anytime soon-"

"It's neither of those," he said stiffly.

I cocked my head to the side. "What do you mean?"

He gritted his teeth and strode past me. Tom knelt down close to the fireplace. I watched with wide eyes as he guided his wand over his palm. A thin line of blood appeared for he had cut himself. He pressed his hand to the floor. As I looked on, astonished, a piece of my floor - about the size of a notepad – simply disappeared.
Tom reached down and pulled out a beautiful golden cup. I stepped closer to get a better look at it and noted the ornate 'H' that graced the cup.

"Is that-?"

"Hufflepuff's Cup," Tom said quietly.

My mouth opened and closed again without me being able to talk at all. A Horcrux. Tom had stored a Horcrux in my house.

"Look, Lorraine-"

"Get it out of here," I said swiftly. "At once."

"I wanted to give it to the Lestranges, but I never to around to do it-"

"So you stored it in my house?" I asked loudly.

"You didn't live here then-"

"It was still my house! I moved back in here! Don't you think you should have told me?"

"I didn't think-"

"So much is obvious," I sneered. "Is there anything else you're hiding on my property? Anything else that won't let me sleep and that'll drive me to the edge of insanity?"

He glared at me, but I just glared back until he said, "No. There's not."

"Good," I snapped. "Get your cup and get out of here."

"Lorraine-"

"Now," I ordered. "Just get out."

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