A/N: As you read this chapter you may have some questions about some of the changes to the original story. I will answer them at the end of the chapter. SA

'I'm on my way into you and everything that you do,

and every tear that you cry,

I'm the reason why.

You'll be lying awake, reliving every mistake,

I'm on my way, until your head cracks open...'

"Guilty Pleasure" - Gone For Days

She awoke in a sweat with her heart pounding, as she always did when she dreamed of him. Sighing, she pushed the covers off her body, raising herself up to sit on the edge of the bed. She knew she should have cast the dreamless sleep spell...damn him! She tried to ignore the arousal she'd felt at his touch, as well as the voice in her head reminding her she'd chosen to leave herself open to his invasion of her dreams.

She liked to dream, and as her father had often said, dreams were the filtering and processing of your fears, ideas and desires. 'Dreams are the inspiration of every great artist,' he would say. She could control her dreams and decide how they played out. It was known as Lucid dreaming, and she'd taught herself how to do it. When she could, she would crawl into bed and sleep, directing her dreams to happy memories. It was a brief haven from her sadness and she would relish the temporary comfort.

Now she could rarely have even that because of Voldemort. He'd taken almost everything good in her life that mattered. His presence in the world permeated and invaded almost everything...lives ended, families destroyed, hearts broken.

Damn him and that prophecy to hell! Why had it not been destroyed or never existed at all? She could have gone on with her life as it was, without his presence. She had smashed it after hearing its words, and could still recall when it had shattered into pieces on the floor of Dumbledore's office. A mist had escaped from it, bearing a message only she could hear.

Even now, almost five years later, the words were still imprinted on her memory, along with the gasp of shock from Professor McGonagall, the inscrutable look on Professor Snape's face, and the sympathy and concern that showed in Dumbledore's expression as she disclosed what the prophecy had said. 'Why me?' she had yelled at the headmaster, 'I've no magical blood, and my parents are muggles...he despises people like me!'

Dumbledore had looked at her sadly. 'I do not know...I wish I could answer that for you. All that I know is that this prophecy was foretold before either of you were born. When I saw the road Tom was taking all those years ago, I made it my mission to search for information about him that could be useful in the future. The information I gathered included this prophecy. I have thought upon this matter often these past few weeks, and when he returned, I felt it was important it be given to you.' Dumbledore had given her another sad smile as she had dropped back down into her chair.

The events of the Tri-Wizard Tournament had propelled Dumbledore to call her to his office that day, only a week into the start of her sixth year at Hogwarts. Her family had concerns about herself and her sister returning to the magical world after they heard of Harry Potter apparating back to the quidditch pitch with Cedric Diggory's lifeless body, and informing Dumbledore of Voldemort's return. Rose hadn't thought much upon it at time, but she could now recall that before her return to school, she had noticed her mum staring at her intently, an unnerving expression shadowing her face. She had asked her about it, but mum became her usual self again, telling her it was 'nothing.'

Rose wondered now if her mum had known, or at least suspected what was about to unfold. Dumbledore had escorted herself and Carrie back home, explaining the situation to her parents. He'd asked them about their family and if they knew of anything that may help to understand events, but they had both said they knew nothing. Dumbledore suggested the best course of action would be for they and their youngest daughter to go into hiding, and that he would make sure that she was kept safe. He'd told them this was only a precautionary measure, that Voldemort was unaware of this prophecy, and should he learn of it, most likely dismiss the idea as beneath him. Her mum had been unusually quiet and accepting of the news, which was unlike her.

Saying tearful goodbye's with her family was still painfully fresh in Rose's mind. As they hugged for the last time, her mum had whispered words into her ear that she now questioned. 'I'm sorry,' she had said through her tears. 'Don't be silly, mum!' She had replied, removing her head from her mum's shoulder and looking at her. 'It's all my fault,' she'd said, her voice quivering. 'Mum, don't be daft! How is this your fault?' Rose had shook her head, before hugging her mum once again, squeezing her arms round her tightly. Her dad and Carrie came to join them, distracting her from the words her mum whispered into her ear.

She hadn't seen them since that day, almost five years ago, but she had mulled over the words her mum had said, when eventually her mind had assisted her in recalling them. 'I could have prevented this.' It was too late to ask what she had meant by then, but those words troubled her. What had her mum meant? Had she known something and kept it from her?

She'd lived hidden away in various safe houses, helped by some of the Order members in continuing her education and practising spells. She'd cried many bitter tears at being separated from her family and friends, and for the dreams and plans she'd had for her life. She loved being a witch, but her true passion was dancing, and her goal on leaving Hogwarts was to train to become a professional dancer. But that dream was gone. Her life as she'd known it was gone, and she missed it dreadfully. All she had of her family now were memories, and her photograph album.

She'd kept the knowledge of the prophecy to herself, only Dumbledore and select Order members knowing of its existence...not even Harry had known. She'd come to know Harry a little, and she hadn't envied him his burden. He'd had the weight of the wizarding world on his shoulders...what a life he'd had, all thanks to Voldemort.

Along with all the world, she'd hoped that Harry could finish the fight and defeat Voldemort... For his own sake, for the world's, and for hers. She'd felt selfish in thinking that way, but she could not help it. And she had felt that Harry deserved to live his life in peace, free from Voldemort's dark shadow.

She still could not believe the events of the past few years since she had looked into the prophecy. Dumbledore's death was desvatating news, but she hadn't been very surprised that Snape had been one of Voldemort's followers. The despair she had felt when she had realized that Voldemort would know of the prophecy about them had almost overwhelmed her. She had rallied though, and she would never give up hope. She had prayed that he would not even consider it. After all, Snape would have been sure to tell him she was a mudblood, and if he decided he wanted her, she'd vowed to evade the bastard as long as she could.

Harry, his friends and the Order had ploughed on with the quest to destroy Voldemort. And they almost did. The day of Harry's death remained imprinted on in her memory, in everyone's memory, and the hope had died in the wizarding world that day, along with many good people that she had come to know. It still seemed unreal that two years had passed since then. There was still resistance, and those who had remained battled on and would never give up. But the world now was a darker, colder place, and under Voldemort's control.

She exhaled a breath and got up from the bed, going into the bathroom. She peeled the damp garments from her body and splashed the cold, refreshing water over her face and body. As she dried herself, she looked at her reflection in the mirror, noting the dark circles under her eyes. She was almost twenty-one, yet she felt decades older...the past five years were beginning to take their toll upon her. She returned to the bedroom and looked at the bed. Sleep would elude her for the rest of the night, it was pointless getting back into bed.

She threw on trousers and a top, and piled up her hair into a loose knot. She would go downstairs and make a hot chocolate...perhaps he would be up too. He slept as little as she did these days. She smiled to herself, hoping he would be. He was the one thing in her current existence that made her feel like her old self and that there was still good things to hope for the future. She cherished anything that made her feel that way.

A/N: In this story, Harry did not have the Resurrection stone when he went to meet Voldemort in the Forbidden Forest, having lost the snitch during his search for Horcruxes. Therefore he sacrificed himself to save the others, but Voldemort broke his word and attacked the school, massacring those who resisted him. Neville died and failed to kill Nagini, who survived the Hogwarts battle.