Harry released Lalithine, though part of him screamed to keep her in close range. She stumbled across the room stiffly, and whipped around so fast that her white hair splayed across her face. Harry's green eyes turned thoughtful as he watched her, she didn't seem like anything special at first glance. In the light of morning, he could see her better and immediately began to assert her. She seemed tall for her age [which he estimated to be about twenty three years, and her body shape was nearly impossible to determine since her clothes appeared to be too big. Her jaw looked almost too strong and her eyes were slanted harshly. But upon further inspection, it was plain that Lalithine had been bred for battle. It was clear from her posture, which was perfectly straight from years of what he suspected was some type of military-like training. Wherever she had come from, they certainly taught her well. She glared at him evenly, uncomfortable with his close scrutiny. Her jaw twitched as she studied him as well, somewhat taken aback at the fact that something that scrawny could beat the Dark Lord. He had help, she scolded herself, and his followers had participated just as much. He didn't seem that bright alone. In fact, she assumed, the Granger girl had probably led Potter and Weasley around by their ears. Information pooled and collected in her brain, like blood it pulsed throughout her body, giving her life. Lalithine had been trained for this, to pick up the most hidden secrets of her prey by their stance alone. She could tell when they were lying, when they spoke the truth, and tidbits of their past lives. In the 'orphanage' she had been considered unusually perceptive, and she was proud of that fact.

"What now?" her tone was unreadable, distant. Harry turned away from her, heading toward the door.

"For now, I've got business to do," he said casually over his shoulder, "I'll have to leave you alone for now, but I'm sure you can behave yourself until I get back. Don't even bother trying to run off again; it'll be about as hopeless as last night."

She scowled, but chose to keep her mouth shut as he shut the door behind him. Her hand reached for the knob and she let out an annoyed yelp as the metal burned her flesh. Moments later, she was cradling her wounded hand against her chest and was struggling to open the window instead. Fruitless effort after fruitless effort began to take its toll, and frustration flowed through her body. Grabbing the small wooden chair from its desk in the corner and viciously beat it against the floor. Much to her disappointment, it broke after only five blows. Clenching her teeth in disgust, she tossed the fragments aside and set to work on the next object. For hours, she picked up random objects in the room and broke them, till the room was covered in debris. With a satisfied smile, she sat cross legged on the bed and folded her arms against her chest, waiting for Potter to come back.

-----------------------------------

Harry knocked repeatedly on the wooden door, waiting for a familiar face to open it.

"I know you're there," he shouted in irritation, "open up!"

He could hear muffled giggling, then footsteps as someone approached the door. There was a moment of hesitation before the door flew open to reveal Hermione's smiling face. Without warning, she threw her arms around his neck in a tight hug, while Ron grinned in the background. Harry noticed at once, to his embarrassment, that both their clothes weren't exactly straight

"It's wonderful to see you again, Harry!" Hermione hadn't seen him since the kids had started school, time had simply not allowed it.

"Yeah," Ron said with his wide grin, "we were beginning to think the worst; like maybe something bad happened…I bet its Ginny's fault somehow."

"Oh, something happened alright," Harry laughed, "but it was in no way, shape, or form, Ginny's fault."

"Well, come on and tell us about it, already!" Ron replied before grabbing his friend's arm and dragging him into the house. The trio sat around the table, like old times, and listened with puzzled expressions as Harry recounted his adventure thus far with the infamous Lalithine.

"Where is she now?" Hermione asked.

"Locked us in Albus' room for now," he answered, "until we can figure out what to do with her."

Ron and Hermione exchanged a glance, shocked that he would keep such a danger in his home. Harry Potter had been slipping on his defenses lately, without the threat of his age old enemy to keep him in line. He caught their look, and raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Wow," Ron said with a stiff laugh, "I bet Ginny took that really well."

Harry winced, "she stormed off to your parents…she'll be okay though, won't she?"

Ron shook his head with an almost hostile air, "you git, I'm sure she'll be alright, but she's going to be one very unhappy lady for awhile. Don't forget what Bellatrix did."

She was the one who had killed Fred, Harry had nearly forgotten about that. He mentally bet that Ron would vote to send Lalithine straight to Azkaban, just as Ginny had. No wonder she had been so angry, he really was a git. Ronald said as much, cursing the unlucky girl's bloodline and the like, then proclaiming that she should rot in Azkaban with the rest of 'her lot.'

"It's not that easy, Ron," Hermione sighed, "she obviously has some very important information that could be useful to us-"

"Us?" Harry interrupted. Memories flooded his mind from their past adventures. "I don't see a bloodthirsty descendent of pure evil locked in your kid's room, how is this information beneficial to you?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Harry," she snapped, "We're going to help you with this. Besides, if you didn't want us to help, why'd you come?"

He didn't have an answer to that one, and so he sat silently while his two friends bickered about what to do with the girl locked in the Potter's household. In the back of his mind, something familiar pulled at him, something threatening.