Stella Nova

by BrooklynFazenbaker

When the Weasley's took in Sirius Black's daughter on Halloween night, they expected him to return for her in a few days. Instead, they raised her alongside their children. How will a Slytherin "Weasley" change the story? Especially when she's a troublemaker and so close to so many snakes... and how will Sirius react to seeing his daughter again? (I do not own Harry Potter)

8. Chapter 6: The Half-Blood Prince

Chapter Six: The Half-Blood Prince

Stella's song is 'I Can Do It With A Broken Heart' by Taylor Swift… Js

Trigger Warnings: Depression, Violence, Anger Issues, Mental Illness

Stella went back to Grimmauld. Kreacher was hiding in his room from her after her harsh order telling him to stay there until she said otherwise. A few orders were put in place, actually, including cutting contact with the Malfoys, Lestranges, and a whole list of others. He wasn't even allowed to whisper to the portrait of Walburga that he kept.

Stella couldn't bring herself to open the door to Sirius's room, but she opened the door to Walburga's room and let Buckbeak out, gifting him to Hagrid under a new name. She did make Kreacher clean the room before returning to his though. She didn't like the idea of Hippogriff dung just laying around the house.

Remus, knowing she could practice magic in the house, gave her private dueling lessons. She learned how to do non-verbal spells but hadn't quite mastered doing anything wandlessly just yet. She could make something very light float for a few seconds at a time unless there was something to distract her. Remus tended to distract her on purpose, smirking when she set her glare on him. Most nights, he stayed at Grimmauld with her. On full moons, he ran with a pack, returning a couple of days later with new scars to show for it.

Order meetings continued to take place in Grimmauld and Stella was no longer told that she couldn't sit in on them. She didn't send the information to Harry, the mail was too unreliable. She took notes with a quick quotes quill under the table though. Moody could obviously see it but knew what she was doing, so he said nothing. Remus had caught her once, staring at the quill and notebook in confusion before looking to her with a raised brow, to which she simply shrugged.

Molly had been furious about Stella being included, claiming she needed to be left out. When Stella told her that she would be doing no such thing, Molly had yelled and raved at her for it. Stella had simply rolled her eyes and waved for Kingsley to continue as Fred and George glared at their mother for yelling at Stella. The yelling was a normal occurrence around the house. If Molly wasn't fretting over the safety of her children and husband, she was busying herself by yelling at Stella. Almost as a way to pass the time.

At the end of one Order meeting, Remus sided with Molly.

"Stella, it's just not safe. You are far too close to the Slytherins."

"You are so worried that I'm going to fall for a Slytherin, sleep with him, and tell him all my secrets like you did," Stella hissed at him and everyone froze, Snape's eyes widening a bit in the corner. "I already did, though. And he died. So you'll excuse me if I'm not a whole too keen to listen to your arguments."

The yelling turned into Molly being pissed about Stella having been intimate with someone, especially a Slytherin, along with the fact that Stella hadn't told her.

"Well, I didn't tell you because I wanted to have this lovely argument," Stella deadpanned before setting a glare on Molly. "Obviously, I didn't tell you because I wanted to avoid all of this."

"You… you are Sirius's daughter…" Molly grumbled at Stella's sarcasm.

"I am the daughter of Sirius Black so if you would kindly stop screaming at me as if you are my mother and then acting like I'm simply a stranger that you put up with being around, it would be greatly appreciated."

'HARRY POTTER: THE CHOSEN ONE?

Rumors continue to fly about the mysterious recent disturbance at the Ministry of Magic, during which He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was sighted once more.

"We're not allowed to talk about it, don't ask me anything," said one agitated Obliviator, who refused to give his name as he left the Ministry last night.

Nevertheless, highly placed sources within the Ministry have confirmed that the disturbance centered on the fabled Hall of Prophecy. Though Ministry spokeswizards have hitherto refused even to confirm the existence of such a place, a growing number of the Wizarding community believe that the Death Eaters now serving sentences in Azkaban for trespass and attempted theft were attempting to steal a prophecy. The nature of that prophecy is unknown, although speculation is rife that it concerns Harry Potter, the only person ever known to have survived the Killing Curse, and who is also known to have been at the Ministry on the night in question. Some are going so far as to call Potter "the Chosen One," believing that the prophecy names him as the only one who will be able to rid us of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. The current whereabouts of the prophecy, if it exists, are unknown, although (ctd. page 2, column 5)…'

'SCRIMGEOUR SUCCEEDS FUDGE'

Most of this front page was taken up with a large black-andwhite picture of a man with a lionlike mane of thick hair and a rather ravaged face. The picture was moving — the man was waving at the ceiling.

'Rufus Scrimgeour, previously Head of the Auror office in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, has succeeded Cornelius Fudge as Minister of Magic. The appointment has largely been greeted with enthusiasm by the Wizarding community, though rumors of a rift between the new Minister and Albus Dumbledore, newly reinstated Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, surfaced within hours of Scrimgeour taking office.

Scrimgeour's representatives admitted that he had met with Dumbledore at once upon taking possession of the top job but refused to comment on the topics under discussion. Albus Dumbledore is known to (ctd. page 3, column 2)…'

To the left of this paper sat another, which had been folded so that a story bearing the title 'Ministry Guarantees Students' Safety' was visible.

'Newly appointed Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour, spoke today of the tough new measures taken by his Ministry to ensure the safety of students returning to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this autumn.

"For obvious reasons, the Ministry will not be going into detail about its stringent new security plans," said the Minister, although an insider confirmed that measures include defensive spells and charms, a complex array of counter curses, and a small task force of Aurors dedicated solely to the protection of Hogwarts School.

Most seem reassured by the new Minister's tough stand on student safety. Said Mrs. Augusta Longbottom, "My grandson, Neville — a good friend of Harry Potter's, incidentally, who fought the Death Eaters alongside him at the Ministry in June and…'

Stella had written to Neville and Luna quite often over the summer, checking in on both of them as often as possible. She'd written to Rose Zabini once, telling her exactly what had happened at the Ministry, sure that she'd already been informed but wanting to explain it herself. Rose had sent one sentence back: 'You were supposed to protect them.' She hadn't written again.

Theo was still in St. Mungos. Stella wasn't allowed to visit since she 'wasn't family'. Instead she sent flowers every week with a note, telling him that she'd be there as soon as he woke up. He was in a magical coma while he healed, the only information Stella had been given about him.

Sirius's will had left her everything. Well, almost everything. There was a trust set up for Harry and a few personal belongings, but that was it. Stella gathered the items she could find around the house but the rest were in his bedroom.

"Kreacher!" she called and he appeared. "Gather these items from Sirius's room. Do not touch anything other than the objects. Do not disturb the room or the belongings inside of it in any way. Bring me the items, NOW, and then return to your room."

The items were gathered within a minute and placed on the dining room table in front of Stella. Kreacher, with a CRACK, disappeared to his room again. Dumbledore pulled Stella aside after an Order meeting, asking her to accompany him to pick up Harry at eleven.

"Sure," Stella nodded. "Is he staying at the Burrow?"

"There or here. The choice will be his," Dumbledore explained.

"Okay," Stella nodded. "I've gathered the things Sirius wanted him to have. I'll go get them now."

"Of course," Dumbledore nodded and Stella ran off to grab everything and the notebook where she'd been taking notes, slipping it into the sack with the photo albums and other things.

At eleven, Stella noticed Dumbledore's hand.

"Sir?" she asked.

"I've come across a rather nasty curse," he admitted. "Nothing to worry over. Come. I believe Remus has side-along Apparated with you in the past?"

"He has," Stella nodded. "I brought a stomach soother for Harry in case that was how we were getting around."

"Good thinking," Dumbledore nodded and Stella took his arm.

They appeared in Private Drive and Dumbledore clicked something, causing lights to leave the street lamps and fly into his device.

"Deluminator," he told her. "Created it myself."

"Cool," Stella nodded and she followed Dumbledore up to a plain looking house, where Dumbledore rapt his healthy knuckles on the door and they waited a moment for the door to open.

"Who the blazes is calling at this time of night?" they heard from inside and Stella knew Harry had hoped that his relatives would be asleep by now or thought Dumbledore simply wasn't coming.

The door opened and the man that Moody had scared just a month and a half ago was standing there, looking dumbfounded at the sight of Dumbledore's billowing cloak and his pointed hat.

"Good evening. You must be Mr. Dursley. I daresay Harry has told you I would be coming for him?" Dumbledore greeted.

"We've come to take him for the rest of the summer," Stella explained.

"Judging by your look of stunned disbelief, Harry did not warn you that we was coming," said Dumbledore pleasantly. "However, let us assume that you have invited us warmly into your house. It is unwise to linger overlong on doorsteps in these troubled times."

Dumbledore stepped into the house, Stella right behind him, and closed the front door.

"It is a long time since my last visit," said Dumbledore, peering down his crooked nose at Uncle Vernon. "I must say, your agapanthus are flourishing."

Stella looked up the stairs and found Harry standing there holding a Quidditch jersey and a sneak-scope.

"Hiya, Harry," Stella greeted. "Still packing?"

"Yeah," Harry nodded.

"I'll come help. All those siblings made me rather good at this sort of thing," Stella said, going up the stairs and following Harry to his room.

It was a bit of a mess and everything was just tossed into the trunk. Stella folded the clothes while Harry gathered the rest of his belongings, helping her pack everything in a better order. Stella placed the sack of items from Sirius into a cauldron with a wink. He stared at it curiously before she shut the trunk and he locked it up.

When they walked down to the sitting room, it was to find Harry's relatives looking extremely uncomfortable as cups kept bouncing off their heads, Dumbledore sipping from his own and seeming not to notice.

"Ah! Are we ready?" he asked Harry.

"Yes, sir," Harry nodded.

"Get these ruddy things off us!" Vernon yelled and Stella just raised a brow before giving Dumbledore an amused look.

"Oh, of course. It would have been more polite to just drink it, though, you know? Alright Harry, Stella, let's be on our way."

Dumbledore waved his wand and the cups all disappeared as he stood.

"Just one last thing, then," he looked to the Dursleys once more. "As you will no doubt be aware, Harry comes of age in a year's time —"

"No," Harry's aunt argued.

"I'm sorry?"

"No, he doesn't. He's a month younger than Dudley and Dudders doesn't turn eighteen until the year after next."

"Dudders?" Stella whispered to Harry and he just shrugged.

"Ah," said Dumbledore pleasantly, "but in the Wizarding world, we come of age at seventeen."

"Preposterous," Harry's uncle muttered.

"Now, as you already know, the wizard called Lord Voldemort has returned to this country. The Wizarding community is currently in a state of open warfare. Harry, whom Lord Voldemort has already attempted to kill on a number of occasions, is in even greater danger now than the day when I left him upon your doorstep fifteen years ago, with a letter explaining about his parents' murder and expressing the hope that you would care for him as though he were your own."

"I'm so happy I didn't stay at home," Stella whispered to Harry. "I wouldn't want to miss this for anything."

"You did not do as I asked. You have never treated Harry as a son. He has known nothing but neglect and often cruelty at your hands. The best that can be said is that he has at least escaped the appalling damage you have inflicted upon the unfortunate boy sitting between you."

"Us — mistreat Dudders? What d'you — ?" began Uncle Vernon furiously, but Dumbledore raised his finger for silence, a silence which fell as though he had struck Uncle Vernon dumb.

"The magic I evoked fifteen years ago means that Harry has powerful protection while he can still call this house 'home.' However miserable he has been here, however unwelcome, however badly treated, you have at least, grudgingly, allowed him houseroom. This magic will cease to operate the moment that Harry turns seventeen; in other words, at the moment he becomes a man. I ask only this: that you allow Harry to return, once more, to this house, before his seventeenth birthday, which will ensure that the protection continues until that time."

None of the Dursleys said anything. 'Dudders' was frowning slightly, as though he was still trying to work out when he had ever been mistreated. Vernon looked as though he had something stuck in his throat; Petunia, however, was oddly flushed.

"Well, Harry . . . time for us to be off," said Dumbledore at last, standing up and straightening his long black cloak. "Until we meet again," he said to the Dursleys, who looked as though that moment could wait forever as far as they were concerned, and after doffing his hat, he swept from the room.

"Bye," said Harry hastily to the Dursleys, and followed Dumbledore, who paused beside Harry's trunk, upon which Hedwig's cage was perched.

"We do not want to be encumbered by these just now," he said, pulling out his wand again. "Would you like to stay at the Burrow with the Weasleys or Grimmauld with Stella?"

"With Stella," Harry stated.

"I shall send them to her home to await us there. However, I would like you to bring your Invisibility Cloak . . . just in case."

Harry extracted his cloak from his trunk with some difficulty, trying not to show Dumbledore the mess within. When he had stuffed it into an inside pocket of his jacket, Dumbledore waved his wand and the trunk, cage, and Hedwig vanished. Dumbledore then waved his wand again, and the front door opened onto cool, misty darkness.

"And now, Harry, Stella, let us step out into the night and pursue that flighty temptress, adventure."

"Keep your wand at the ready, Harry," Dumbledore said brightly.

"But I thought I'm not allowed to use magic outside school, sir?"

"If there is an attack," said Dumbledore, "I give you permission to use any counter jinx or curse that might occur to you. However, I do not think you need worry about being attacked tonight."

"Why not, sir?"

"You are with me and with Stella," said Dumbledore simply. "This will do."

He came to an abrupt halt at the end of Privet Drive.

"You have not, of course, passed your Apparition Test," he said. "No," said Harry. "I thought you had to be seventeen?"

"You do," said Dumbledore. "So you will need to hold on to my arm very tightly. My left, if you don't mind — as you have noticed, my wand arm is a little fragile at the moment."

Stella gave Harry the potion, which he gave a confused look before taking. Stella and Harry took Dumbledore's uninjured hand and they disappear, appearing in what seemed like an abandoned village square.

"Did the potion work?" Dumbledore asked Harry. "Any stomach pains, dizziness, or need to be sick?"

"No," Harry shook his head, seeming confused.

"Wonderful work, Stella."

"Thank you, sir."

"This way."

He set off at a brisk pace, past an empty inn and a few houses. According to a clock on a nearby church, it was almost midnight.

"So tell me, Harry," said Dumbledore. "Your scar . . . has it been hurting at all?"

Harry raised a hand unconsciously to his forehead and rubbed the lightning-shaped mark.

"No," he said, "and I've been wondering about that. I thought it would be burning all the time now Voldemort's getting so powerful again."

He glanced up at Dumbledore and saw that he was wearing a satisfied expression.

"I, on the other hand, thought otherwise," said Dumbledore. "Lord Voldemort has finally realized the dangerous access to his thoughts and feelings you have been enjoying. It appears that he is now employing Occlumency against you."

"Well, I'm not complaining," said Harry.

They turned a corner, passing a telephone box and a bus shelter. Harry looked sideways at Dumbledore again.

"Professor?"

"Harry?"

"Er — where exactly are we?"

"This, Harry, is the charming village of Budleigh Babberton."

"Chamring?" Stella asked quietly.

"And what are we doing here?"

Ah yes, of course, I haven't told you," said Dumbledore. "Well, I have lost count of the number of times I have said this in recent years, but we are, once again, one member of staff short. We are here to persuade an old colleague of mine to come out of retirement and return to Hogwarts."

"How can I help with that, sir?"

"Oh, I think we'll find a use for you," said Dumbledore vaguely. "Both of you. Left here."

"Sir, are you using us to convince someone to work for you?" Stella asked. "How very Slytherin of you. I'm impressed."

"Well, we all have a bit of every house quality in us," Dumbledore smirked.

They proceeded up a steep, narrow street lined with houses. All the windows were dark. The odd chill that had lain over Privet Drive for two weeks persisted here too.

"Professor, why couldn't we just Apparate directly into your old colleague's house?"

"Because it would be quite as rude as kicking down the front door," said Dumbledore. "Courtesy dictates that we offer fellow wizards the opportunity of denying us entry. In any case, most Wizarding dwellings are magically protected from unwanted Apparators. At Hogwarts, for instance —"

"— you can't Apparate anywhere inside the buildings or grounds," said Harry quickly. "Hermione Granger told me."

"And she is quite right. We turn left again."

The church clock chimed midnight behind them.

"Sir, I saw in the Daily Prophet that Fudge has been sacked…" Harry started.

"Correct," Dumbledore nodded as they continued, now turning down a side street. "He has been replaced, as I am sure you also saw, by Rufus Scrimgeour, who used to be Head of the Auror office."

"Do you think he's good?" Harry asked.

"An interesting question. He is able, certainly. A more decisive and forceful personality than Cornelius."

"Yes, but I meant—"

"I know what you meant. Rufus is a man of action and, having fought Dark Forces for most of his working life, does not underestimate Lord Voldemort."

"And… sir… I saw about Madam Bones."

"Yes," said Dumbledore. "A terrible loss. She was a great witch. Just up here, I think – ouch."

Dumbledore had pointed with his injured hand.

"Sir," Stella brought his arm down gently, looking it over and thinking to aske Theo-

She cut that thought off quickly.

"Now, Harry, Stella has written all the information down for you over the past few months- yes Miss Black, I knew- so you can review it yourself later. For now, let us focus only on the task at hand."

They were nearing a small, neat stone house set in its own garden. Stella let out a gasp when they reached the front gate, Dumbledore freezing in his tracks and almost causing her to run directly into him. Stella had a wand in each hand and stood protectively in front of Harry, keeping him from running directly into Dumbledore's back.

"Wands out and follow me," Dumbledore said quietly and Stella placed Harry between them, watching their backs as they stepped through the gate.

"Lumos," Dumbledore's wand ignites, casting its light up a narrow hallway. To the left, another door stood open.

Holding his illuminated wand aloft, Dumbledore walked into the sitting room with Harry right behind him, Stella bringing up the rear. A scene of total devastation met their eyes. A grandfather clock lay splintered at their feet, its face cracked, its pendulum lying a little further away like a dropped sword. A piano was on its side, its keys strewn across the floor. The wreckage of a fallen chandelier glittered nearby. Cushions lay deflated, feathers oozing from slashes in their sides; fragments of glass and China lay like powder over everything. Dumbledore raised his wand even higher, so that its light was thrown upon the walls, where something darkly red and glutinous was spattered over the wallpaper. Harry gasped and Dumbledore turned to him.

"Not pretty, is it?" he said heavily. "Yes, something horrible has happened here."

Dumbledore moved carefully into the middle of the room, scrutinizing the wreckage at his feet. The teens followed, gazing around, half-scared of what he might see hidden behind the wreck of the piano or the overturned sofa, but there was no sign of a body.

"Maybe there was a fight and- and they dragged him off, Professor?" Harry offered.

"I don't think so," said Dumbledore quietly, peering behind an overstuffed armchair lying on its side.

"You mean he's — ?"

"Still here somewhere? Yes."

And without warning, Dumbledore swooped, plunging the tip of his wand into the seat of the overstuffed armchair, which yelled, "Ouch!"

"Good evening, Horace," said Dumbledore, straightening up again.

Stella let out a shocked laugh as Harry's jaw dropped. Where a split second before there had been an armchair, there now crouched an enormously fat, bald, old man who was massaging his lower belly and squinting up at Dumbledore with an aggrieved and watery.

"There was no need to stick the wand in that hard," he said gruffly, clambering to his feet. "It hurt."

The wandlight sparkled on his shiny pate, his prominent eyes, his enormous, silver, walruslike mustache, and the highly polished buttons on the maroon velvet jacket he was wearing over a pair of lilac silk pajamas. The top of his head barely reached Dumbledore's chin.

"What gave it away?" he grunted as he staggered to his feet, still rubbing his lower belly. He seemed remarkably unabashed for a man who had just been discovered pretending to be an armchair

"My dear Horace," said Dumbledore, looking amused, "if the Death Eaters really had come to call, the Dark Mark would have been set over the house."

The wizard clapped a pudgy hand to his vast forehead.

"The Dark Mark," he muttered. "Knew there was something . . . ah well. Wouldn't have had time anyway, I'd only just put the finishing touches to my upholstery when you entered the room."

He heaved a great sigh that made the ends of his mustache flutter.

"Would you like my assistance clearing up?" asked Dumbledore politely.

"Please," said the other.

They stood back to back, the tall thin wizard and the short round one, and waved their wands in one identical sweeping motion. The furniture flew back to its original places; ornaments reformed in midair, feathers zoomed into their cushions; torn books repaired themselves as they landed upon their shelves; oil lanterns soared onto side tables and reignited; a vast collection of splintered silver picture frames flew glittering across the room and alighted, whole and untarnished, upon a desk; rips, cracks, and holes healed everywhere, and the walls wiped themselves clean.

"What kind of blood was that, incidentally?" asked Dumbledore loudly over the chiming of the newly unsmashed grandfather clock.

"Dragon blood?" Stella asked, having dipped her finger into it, smelt it, and squished a bit between her fingers before spreading her fingers again to see how thick and sticky it was.

"Why, yes!" shouted the wizard called Horace, as, with a deafening grinding and tinkling, the chandelier screwed itself back into the ceiling. "Wonderful. Wonderful."

"There's a spell to collect it all back into a vial," Stella told him. "Dragon blood is dead expensive right now."

Horace raised his wand and the blood flew into a small, glass vial. He set the bottle back on the sideboard and sighed. It was then that his gaze fell upon Harry and Stella, who had just turned around so he could get a good look at her.

"Oho," he said, his large round eyes flying to Harry's forehead and the lightning-shaped scar it bore. "Oho!"

"This," said Dumbledore, moving forward to make the introduction, "is Harry Potter and Stella Black. Harry, Stella, this is an old friend and colleague of mine, Horace Slughorn."

Slughorn turned on Dumbledore, his expression shrewd. "So that's how you thought you'd persuade me, is it? Well, the answer's no, Albus."

He pushed past Harry and Stella, his face turned resolutely away with the air of a man trying to resist temptation.

"I suppose we can have a drink, at least?" asked Dumbledore. "For old time's sake?"

Slughorn hesitated.

"All right then, one drink," he said ungraciously.

Dumbledore smiled at Harry and Stella and directed them toward a chair not unlike the one that Slughorn had so recently impersonated, which stood right beside the newly burning fire and a brightly glowing oil lamp. Harry took the seat and Stella sat on the arm of the chair, arm going across the back to hold herself up and with the distinct impression that Dumbledore, for some reason, wanted to keep them as visible as possible. Certainly when Slughorn, who had been busy with decanters and glasses, turned to face the room again, his eyes fell immediately upon them.

"Hmpf," he said, looking away quickly as though frightened of hurting his eyes. "Here —" He gave a drink to Dumbledore, who had sat down without invitation, thrust the tray at the teens, and then sank into the cushions of the repaired sofa and a disgruntled silence. His legs were so short they did not touch the floor.

"Well, how have you been keeping, Horace?" Dumbledore asked.

"Not so well," said Slughorn at once. "Weak chest. Wheezy. Rheumatism too. Can't move like I used to. Well, that's to be expected. Old age. Fatigue."

"And yet you must have moved fairly quickly to prepare such a welcome for us at such short notice," said Dumbledore. "You can't have had more than three minutes' warning?"

"It's rather impressive," Stella admitted with a small smile.

Slughorn said, half irritably, half proudly, "Two. Didn't hear my Intruder Charm go off, I was taking a bath. Still," he added sternly, seeming to pull himself back together again, "the fact remains that I'm an old man, Albus. A tired old man who's earned the right to a quiet life and a few creature comforts."

"You're not yet as old as I am, Horace," said Dumbledore.

"Well, maybe you ought to think about retirement yourself," said Slughorn bluntly. His pale gooseberry eyes had found Dumbledore's injured hand. "Reactions not what they were, I see."

"You're quite right," said Dumbledore serenely, shaking back his sleeve to reveal the tips of those burned and blackened fingers; the sight of them made the back of Harry's neck prickle unpleasantly. "I am undoubtedly slower than I was. But on the other hand . . ."

He shrugged and spread his hands wide, as though to say that age had its compensations.

"So, all these precautions against intruders, Horace . . . are they for the Death Eaters' benefit, or mine?" asked Dumbledore.

"What would the Death Eaters want with a poor broken-down old buffer like me?" demanded Slughorn.

"I imagine that they would want you to turn your considerable talents to coercion, torture, and murder," said Dumbledore. "Are you really telling me that they haven't come recruiting yet?"

Slughorn eyed Dumbledore balefully for a moment, then muttered, "I haven't given them the chance. I've been on the move for a year. Never stay in one place more than a week. Move from Muggle house to Muggle house — the owners of this place are on holiday in the Canary Islands — it's been very pleasant, I'll be sorry to leave. It's quite easy once you know how, one simple Freezing Charm on these absurd burglar alarms they use instead of Sneakoscopes and make sure the neighbors don't spot you bringing in the piano."

"Ingenious," said Dumbledore. "But it sounds a rather tiring existence for a broken-down old buffer in search of a quiet life. Now, if you were to return to Hogwarts —"

"If you're going to tell me my life would be more peaceful at that pestilential school, you can save your breath, Albus! I might have been in hiding, but some funny rumors have reached me since Dolores Umbridge left! If that's how you treat teachers these days —"

"Professor Umbridge was torturing students with a blood quill and whips and chains," Stella spoke up, voice hard. "She deserved more than the mild concussion and rope burn that she received."

"That's what she did, did she?" said Slughorn.

"Idiotic woman. Never liked her."

Harry chuckled and both Dumbledore and Slughorn looked round at him while Stella smirked.

"Sorry," Harry said hastily. "It's just — I didn't like her either."

Dumbledore stood up rather suddenly.

"Are you leaving?" asked Slughorn at once, looking hopeful.

"No, I was wondering whether I might use your bathroom," said Dumbledore.

"Oh," said Slughorn, clearly disappointed. "Second on the left down the hall."

Dumbledore strode from the room. Once the door had closed behind him, there was silence. After a few moments, Slughorn got to his feet but seemed uncertain what to do with himself. He shot a furtive look at Harry, then crossed to the fire and turned his back on it, warming his wide behind.

"Don't think I don't know why he's brought the two of you," he said abruptly.

Harry and Stella merely looked at Slughorn. Slughorn's watery eyes slid over Harry's scar, this time taking in the rest of his face.

"You look very much like your father," he told Harry before looking to Stella, "and you, like your uncle."

"We've been told," Harry nodded, the attention going back to him.

"Except for your eyes. You've got—"

"My mother's eyes, yeah."

"Hmpf. Yes, well. You shouldn't have favorites as a teacher, of course, but she was one of mine. Your mother and your uncle," Slughorn added, in answer to Harry's and Stella's questioning looks. "Lily Evans and Regulus Black. Two of the brightest I ever taught. Lily was vivacious, you know. Charming girl. I used to tell her she ought to have been in my House. Very cheeky answers I used to get back too. Regulus was protective and had a good head on his shoulders, always looking out for the younger students, as well."

"Stella does that," Harry nodded. "Which house was yours?"

"I was Head of Slytherin," said Slughorn. "Oh, now, don't go holding grudges against me!" Slughorn wagged his finger at Harry and Stella slapped the back of his head gently.

"That's my house you're judging," she reminded him.

"Ah, yes. Another Black in Slytherin. I'm assuming you're in Gryffindor. Runs in families typically. Not always though. I mean, look at Sirius Black, your father. Oh, sorry dear."

Stella felt like an invisible hand had twisted her intestines and held them tight.

"Well, anyways, the whole Black family had been in my house until him. Shame – he was a talented boy. I got Regulus when he came along, but I would have liked the set. Lily was a Muggle-born, of course. Couldn't believe it when I found out. Thought she must have been pure-blood, she was so good."

"One of our best friends is Muggle-born," Harry spoke up.

"And she's top two in our year," Stella added on.

"Funny how that sometimes happens, isn't it?" said Slughorn.

"Not really," Harry said coldly.

Slughorn looked down at him in surprise. "You mustn't think I'm prejudiced!" he said. "No, no, no! Haven't I just said your mother was one of my all-time favorite students? And there was Dirk Cresswell in the year after her too — now Head of the Goblin Liaison Office, of course — another Muggle-born, a very gifted student, and still gives me excellent inside information on the goings-on at Gringotts!"

He bounced up and down a little, smiling in a self-satisfied way, and pointed at the many glittering photograph frames on the dresser, each peopled with tiny moving occupants.

"All ex-students, all signed. You'll notice Barnabas Cuffe, editor of the Daily Prophet, he's always interested to hear my take on the day's news. And Ambrosius Flume, of Honeydukes — a hamper every birthday, and all because I was able to give him an introduction to Ciceron Harkiss, who gave him his first job! And at the back — you'll see her if you just crane your neck — that's Gwenog Jones, who of course captains the Holyhead Harpies. . . . People are always astonished to hear I'm on first-name terms with the Harpies, and free tickets whenever I want them!

This thought seemed to cheer him up enormously.

"And all these people know where to find you, to send you stuff?" asked Stella, who could not help wondering why the Death Eaters had not yet tracked down Slughorn if hampers of sweets, Quidditch tickets, and visitors craving his advice and opinions could find him.

The smile slid from Slughorn's face as quickly as the blood from his walls.

"Of course not," he said, looking down at Harry. "I have been out of touch with everybody for a year. "Still . . . the prudent wizard keeps his head down in such times. All very well for Dumbledore to talk but taking up a post at Hogwarts just now would be tantamount to declaring my public allegiance to the Order of the Phoenix! And while I'm sure they're very admirable and brave and all the rest of it, I don't personally fancy the mortality rate —"

"You don't have to join the Order to teach at Hogwarts," said Harry, who could not quite keep a note of derision out of his voice: It was hard to sympathize with Slughorn's cosseted existence when he remembered Sirius, crouching in a cave and living on rats. "Most of the teachers aren't in it, and none of them has ever been killed — well, unless you count Quirrell, and he got what he deserved seeing as he was working with Voldemort."

"I reckon the staff are safer than most people while Dumbledore's headmaster; he's supposed to be the only one Voldemort ever feared, isn't he?" Harry went on.

Slughorn gazed into space for a moment or two: He seemed to be thinking over Harry's words.

"Well, yes, it is true that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has never sought a fight with Dumbledore," he muttered grudgingly. "And I suppose one could argue that as I have not joined the Death Eaters, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named can hardly count me a friend . . . in which case, I might well be safer a little closer to Albus. . . . I cannot pretend that Amelia Bones's death did not shake me. . . . If she, with all her Ministry contacts and protection . . ."

Dumbledore reentered the room and Slughorn jumped as though he had forgotten he was in the house.

"Oh, there you are, Albus," he said. "You've been a very long time. Upset stomach?"

"No, I was merely reading the Muggle magazines," said Dumbledore. "I do love knitting patterns. Well, Harry, Stella, we have trespassed upon Horace's hospitality quite long enough; I think it is time for us to leave."

Not at all reluctant to obey, Harry jumped to his feet. Slughorn seemed taken aback. Stella just smirked as she stood as well, standing close to Harry.

"You're leaving?"

"Yes, indeed. I think I know a lost cause when I see one."

"Lost. . . ?"

Slughorn seemed agitated. He twiddled his fat thumbs and fidgeted as he watched Dumbledore fasten his traveling cloak, and Harry zip up his jacket. As Stella stuck Sirius's wand back into her hair next to Blaise's.

"Well, I'm sorry you don't want the job, Horace," said Dumbledore, raising his uninjured hand in a farewell salute. "Hogwarts would have been glad to see you back again. Our greatly increased security notwithstanding, you will always be welcome to visit, should you wish to."

"Yes . . . well . . . very gracious . . . as I say . . ."

"Good-bye, then."

"It was nice to meet you, sir," Stella told him.

"Bye," said Harry.

They were at the front door when there was a shout from behind them.

"All right! I'll do it!"

Dumbledore turned to see Slughorn standing breathless in the doorway to the sitting room.

"You will come out of retirement?"

"Yes, yes," said Slughorn impatiently. "I must be mad, but yes."

"Wonderful," said Dumbledore, beaming. "Then, Horace, we shall see you on the first of September."

"Yes, I daresay you will," grunted Slughorn.

As they set off down the garden path, Slughorn's voice floated after them, "I'll want a pay rise, Dumbledore!"

Dumbledore chuckled. The garden gate swung shut behind them, and they set off back down the hill through the dark and the swirling mist.

"Well done," Dumbledore smiled to them.

"We didn't do anything," said Harry in surprise.

"Oh yes you did. You showed Horace exactly how much he stands to gain by returning to Hogwarts. Did you like him?"

"Er…" Harry muttered.

"He's very Slytherin," Stella supplied.

"Horace," said Dumbledore, "likes his comfort. He also likes the company of the famous, the successful, and the powerful. He enjoys the feeling that he influences these people. He has never wanted to occupy the throne himself; he prefers the backseat — more room to spread out, you see. He used to handpick favorites at Hogwarts, sometimes for their ambition or their brains, sometimes for their charm or their talent, and he had an uncanny knack for choosing those who would go on to become outstanding in their various fields. Horace formed a kind of club of his favorites with himself at the center, making introductions, forging useful contacts between members, and always reaping some kind of benefit in return, whether a free box of his favorite crystalized pineapple or the chance to recommend the next junior member of the Goblin Liaison Office.

"I tell you all this," Dumbledore continued, "not to turn you against Horace — or, as we must now call him, Professor Slughorn — but to put you on your guard. He will undoubtedly try to collect you both. You would be the jewel of his collection; 'the Boy Who Lived' . . . or, as they call you these days, 'the Chosen One.' And he does like having the set, so seeing the two of you together and having a history with the Black family, he will want to keep you around as well."

Dumbledore had stopped walking, level with the church they had passed earlier.

"This will do. We shall go straight to Grimmauld place. I shall need to speak with you privately before I leave, Harry. Then I will send word to Molly so that she knows where you have chosen to spend the rest of your summer."

They landed in Grimmauld and Stella let them in, moving to the kitchen to make Harry something, not sure how much he'd eaten so far this summer, telling him to meet her there when he was done. She pulled the leftover stew from the cold box and heated it using her magic, placing it in a bowl and setting it on the table. She cut a few pieces of bread for him as well, buttering them and putting them on a napkin beside his bowl. She leaned back against the kitchen counter, taking a few deep breathes. It was always hard to breath when someone mentioned Sirius, Blaise, or Theo. Remus had tried speaking to her, as had Dumbledore just a few days ago, but she'd shaken her head and walked away. She couldn't talk about it yet. It still hurt too much and the uncertainty surrounding Theo just made everything worse.

Harry entered the kitchen and Stella quickly brushed a stray tear away, turning and busying herself with wiping down a counter. She heard Harry's chair scrap across the floor and turned, seeing him sit and begin to eat. She walked over to him, running her fingers through his too long hair.

"How would you feel about a haircut?" Stella asked him.

"Honestly? Please do. It keeps getting in my eyes," he admitted.

Stella gave a small smile before tapping Harry's head with her wand and shortening his hair a bit, a mirror floating in front of him so he could tell her when. Once done, she vanished the mirror and sat beside him.

"So, is it just you?" Harry asked. "In the house, I mean."

"No. There's also," Stella raised her voice, "Kreacher!"

Kreacher appeared with a loud CRACK.

"Kreacher, Harry is staying with us. I want you to ready his room and then return to your room. If he gives you an order, you will follow it. Treat him with the same respect that you owe me."

Kreacher bowed low and disappeared again.

"He's grounded at the moment for lying to you and working with Narcissa and Bellatrix," Stella explained to Harry. "Uncle Moony is here most of the time, as well. It's a full moon though so he's made himself scarce. I'm trying to convince him to let me brew him wolfsbane. He says it's too time consuming and it's easier to just go to the packs. Will make it easier if Dumbledore sends him there for missions like last year. Fred and George tend to show up at random as well when they aren't busy in the shop. Members of the Order come during every meeting and most stay for dinner."

"Why aren't you at the Burrow?" Harry asked curiously. "You didn't mention it in any of your letter?"

"Molly and I keep having rows and I didn't really want to be around too many people," Stella shrugged. "Hermione's staying there as well. We can floo over tomorrow and see everyone if you like?"

"Sure," Harry nodded, smiling at the offer.

"Good," Stella nodded. "Eat up. I think we both need a bit of sleep."

Harry finished and Stella showed him to his room, which he'd stayed in last time around as well. She went back to the kitchen and found the dishes already cleaning themselves. She sighed, knowing Kreacher was trying his best but she needed to be mad at someone other than just herself all the time. She'd make peace with him within the week.

Stella laid in bed, wearing one of Theo's sweaters and cuddled under his favorite blanket. Blaise's cologne had been sprayed on her pillow, making her hair smell like him a majority of the time. She had overheard Molly telling Remus that it wasn't a healthy way to cope but Remus had defended her, telling Molly that Stella would be ready to deal with it in time. It had been less than a month since Theo had gone into his coma and since Sirius and Blaise had died at that point, and Remus thought she was doing exceedingly well compared to how she couldn't get out of bed for the first two weeks.

Stella woke, feeling exhausted still. She had grown used to it at that point though. She didn't want to move around but she knew that she had to.

"Kreacher?" she asked and he appeared, eyes wide and ears flat against his head. "Will you make breakfast, please? I think I need a bit longer this morning. And make sure Harry's alright, please?"

"Yes, miss," Kreacher nodded enthusiastically before disappearing.

Stella went to the loo attached to her room and stripped. She stood under the hot water for a while once she'd finished washing up, unable to bring herself to step out into the cold. She always forgot to put warming charms up until it was too late. Blaise had always tossed one over his shoulder towards the bathroom as she'd walked into it for her. She turned off the water and immediately stepped into the cold, forcing that thought away quickly as she got dressed, this time in Blaise's Weasley sweater from the year before. It was a bit long on her so she pushed the sleeves back before spraying it with a bit of Blaise's cologne and leaving the room fully dressed. She put her hair in a messy bun as she went, using Blaise's and Sirius's wands and the hair pin from Theo to hold it in place.

Harry was already eating when she arrived, eggs, sausages and toast on his plate.

"Kreacher, send word to Molly Weasley that we're going to floo over and then return here, please."

Kreacher bowed and popped away, returning a few minutes later. Stella sat on the floor with Kreacher, passing him a plate so that they were eating together. Kreacher's eyes widened and she even saw a few tears in them, causing her to feel rather guilty for her treatment of him for the past few weeks. She didn't know any other way to punish him though, refusing to physically abuse him as the other Blacks had.

"Fair warning, Harry, Fleur Delacour is at the Burrow. She and Bill are getting married," Stella told him.

"Wait, what?" he asked, confused.

"They got to know one another at Gringotts," Stella explained. "Began seeing each other and now they're engaged. They're quite sweet together but Molly hates it. Ginny and Hermione aren't the nicest to her, either. Call her Phlegm."

"Why?" Harry asked.

Stella just shrugged and finished her food, waving her wand and sending the dishes to the sink to wash themselves.

"Kreacher, do you need anything while I'm out of the house today?" she asked.

"No, miss," he shook his head. "We be needing groceries, though."

"I can get them. Unless you just need some fresh air?"

"Kreacher can get them."

"You know the rules," Stella reminded him. "Straight there and back. No speaking to anyone."

"Yes, miss," Kreacher nodded. "Kreacher will not disrespect miss again. Kreacher is sorry miss."

"I forgive you," she assured him and it took twenty minutes to stop his crying after that.

Stella sent Harry through the floo first, making sure he spoke clearly enough before she went through as well. She stepped out as Harry was brushing soot off of himself, having just gotten back to his feet. Stella smirked as she stepped out of the floo.

"Shut it," Harry rolled his eyes but gave her a smirk as well.

"Oh! Harry!" Molly yelled, rushing into the room and pulling Harry into a tight hug, Fleur right behind her.

" 'Ello, Stella," Fleur smiled.

"Bonjour, Fleur," Stella smiled. "Comment vas-tu?" (Hello, Fleur. How are you?)

"Bonne," Fleur's smiled grew. (Good. – feminine – don't ask me why there are masculine and feminine versions of words in French for I cannot remember.)

"You know French?" Harry asked.

"I've been learning," Stella shrugged. "Apparently, the Blacks have French heritage. I've been speaking with a few of the portraits to learn."

"Votre famille est française ?" Fleur asked. (Your family is French?)

"Oui. Mon arrière-grand-mère est allée à Beauxbâtons," Stella shared. (Yes. My great grandmother went to Beauxbatons.)

"Why do I hear two people speaking French?" Ginny asked before walking into the sitting room. "Oh, you're here!"

Ginny gave Harry a quick hug before wrapping her arms around Stella and dropping her voice to a whisper as Fleur spoke to Harry.

"Why are you speaking French?"

"I've been learning it from my Great Grandmother's portrait," Stella whispered back.

"Oh," Ginny pulled away. "I've missed you. You need to come more often than dinner on Sundays."

"I'll do better," Stella promised her with a small smile.

"You better or I'll go to Grimmauld myself and drag you over," Ginny threatened as Ron and Hermione walked in.

"Harry!" Hermione yelled, running over and giving him a hug.

Harry was still uncomfortable when anyone other than Stella or Molly hugged him, but he was getting better at it, hugging Hermione with a bit more effort than normal. Ron shook his hand, smiling brightly before hugging Stella, lifting her into the air in the process.

Hermione and Stella locked eyes and Stella looked away quickly. Hermione had also been trying to talk to Stella but Stella was avoiding her, partially because she didn't want to talk about it and partially because Stella felt guilty for not being there when Theo'd been hurt. She felt guilty for a lot of things. She looked over at Harry, who was eyeing Hermione with a sad look on his face and realized he was feeling it as well.

"So, Fleur, congratulations," Harry offered. "Stella told me about you and Bill."

Fleur kissed Harry's cheek in thanks.

"Bill is very busy at ze moment, working very 'ard, and I only work part-time at Gringotts for my Eenglish, so he brought me 'ere for a few days to get to know 'is family properly. I was so pleased to 'ear you would be coming — zere isn't much to do 'ere, unless you like cooking and chickens!"

Stella held in her laughter, seeing Molly looking annoyed.

"Speaking of chickens, why don't you and I go gather eggs while Harry catches up with the others, Fleur?" Stella offered.

"Oh, sure," Fleur sighed.

Stella grabbed her old apron, tying it around her waist as she went.

"Je suis tellement heureux d'avoir quelqu'un à qui parler maintenant. Je pense que Molly me déteste," Fleur admitted. (I am so happy that I have someone to talk to now. I think Molly hates me.)

"On s'y habitue. Elle ne m'aime pas non plus la moitié du temps," Stella shrugged. (You get used to it. She doesn't like me half the time, either.)

"Quand j'aurai une fille, elle saura toujours qu'elle est aimée," Fleur frowned as she spoke. (When I have a daughter, she will always know she is loved.)

Stella changed the subject to the wedding, asking Fleur what she was thinking for flowers. They continued the conversation, Stella switching to English every so often, not knowing every word she needed to say just yet. Plus, Fleur still needed to practice her English. Stella cleaned the eggs while Fleur wondered off to the sitting room. Molly walked into the kitchen from the sitting room a moment later, trying to avoid Fleur.

"Hello, dear," Molly smiled to Stella as she cleaned the eggs. "How are you?"

"I've been better," Stella admitted.

"Oh, Stell," Molly sighed, pulling Stella into a hug.

Stella sank into the hug. She missed her mum, had since she'd gotten to Hogwarts if she were being honest. She had so many father figures but only one mum that she'd ever known. Stella didn't know how it ended up happening, but next thing she knew she and Molly were sitting at the table, Stella crying in her arms. It took a few minutes before Stella had stopped crying, hiccupping instead of sobbing.

"Sorry," she told Molly, trying to laugh it off. "Don't know where that came from."

"It's alright, dear," Molly told her, helping wipe the tears away. "I'm here anytime you need me. I know that I've had a rather terrible way of showing it lately and I'm sorry."

"No, I get it," Stella shook her head. "This time, anyways. I know you just want to protect me from everything that's happening but you can't protect me forever. I'm kind of in the thick of it now."

"And I hate it," Molly admitted softly. "I never wanted you to have to experience this sort of loss. I mean, your father and your boyfriend… plus Theo in St. Mungos… It's too much."

"You've been wanting to ask ever since you found out, haven't you?" Stella let out a small laugh, the most genuine one she'd had in the past month and a half now.

"I have," Molly admitted.

"We started seeing each other around Christmas time," Stella admitted.

"Do you want to tell me about him?" Molly asked.

"Not today," Stella shook her head. "I don't really feel like crying again to be honest."

A crash sounded from upstairs and Stella and Molly both sighed.

"Let's let them figure it out for once," Stella stated, hand landing on Molly's arm as she went to stand.

Stella went back to cleaning the eggs, Molly drying them and placing them in a cart. Hermione came down the stairs a few minutes later.

"Mrs. Weasley have any owls arrived? Harry said our test results are supposed to come today!"

"No, sweetheart," Molly shook her head, Hermione having her own nickname now, even if it did resemble the 'sweetie' that Fred tended to get. "Oh, what happened to your eye?"

Stella turned, looking to Hermione in confusion and wondering if the large crash was whatever had caused the black eye that Hermione was sporting.

"We were in Fred and George's room," Hermione sighed. "Can you get it off?"

"Have a seat," Molly told her, waving to the chair.

"I'll get the book," Stella sighed.

Fleur and Ginny came in from different directions as Stella got the book out of the pantry and passed it to Molly, who was already complaining about her spell not working. Harry and Ron joined them as Molly was getting more frustrated.

"It just won't budge," Molly complained. "This has always worked before. I just can't understand."

"It'll be Fred and George's idea of a funny joke, making sure it can't come off," said Ginny

"But it's got to come off!" squeaked Hermione. "I can't go around looking like this forever!"

"You won't, sweetheart. We'll find an antidote. Don't worry," Molly said soothingly.

"Bill told me 'ow Fred and George are very amusing!" said Fleur, smiling serenely.

"Yes, I can hardly breathe for laughing," snapped Hermione.

She jumped up and started walking round and round the kitchen, twisting her fingers together.

"Mrs. Weasley, you're quite, quite sure no owls have arrived this morning?"

"Yes, sweetheart, I'd have noticed," Molly assured her. "But it's not even ten yet. There's still plenty of time."

"I know I messed up Ancient Runes," muttered Hermione feverishly, "I definitely made at least one serious mistranslation. And the Defense Against the Dark Arts practical was no good at all. I thought Transfiguration went all right at the time, but looking back —"

"Hermione, will you shut up, you're not the only one who's nervous!" barked Ron. "And when you've got your eleven 'Outstanding' O.W.L.s . . ."

"Don't, don't, don't!" said Hermione, flapping her hands hysterically. "I know I've failed everything!"

"What happens if we fail?" Harry asked the room at large, but it was again Hermione who answered.

"We discuss our options with our Head of House, I asked Professor McGonagall at the end of last term."

"Will ours go to your house?" Harry asked Stella, looking rather nervous.

"Possibly," Stella nodded. "If theirs arrive and ours don't, I'll call for Kreacher."

"At Beauxbatons," said Fleur complacently, "we 'ad a different way of doing things. I think eet was better. We sat our examinations after six years of study, not five, and then —"

Fleur's words were drowned in a scream. Hermione was pointing through the kitchen window. Four black specks were clearly visible in the sky, growing larger all the time.

"They're definitely owls," said Ron hoarsely, jumping up to join Hermione at the window.

"And there are four of them," said Harry, him and Stella joining them.

"One for each of us," Stella nodded.

The owls were flying directly at the Burrow, four handsome tawnies, each of which, it became clear as they flew lower over the path leading up to the house, was carrying a large square envelope.

"Oh no!" squealed Hermione.

Molly squeezed past them and opened the kitchen window. One, two, three, four, the owls soared through it and landed on the table in a neat line. All four of them lifted their right legs.

Stella moved forward first, Harry right after her, their owls in the middle. Ron's owl was to her right and Hermione's was on Harry's left. Nobody in the kitchen spoke. Harry got his envelope first, then Stella, Ron, and finally, Hermione, who was shaking so hard that it made her owl tremble.

'Ordinary Wizarding Level Results

Pass Grades Fail Grades

Outstanding (O) Poor (P)

Exceeds Expectations (E)Dreadful (D)

Acceptable (A) Troll (T)

Stella Nova Black has achieved:

Ancient Runes_O

Astronomy_O

Charms_O

Defense Against the Dark Arts_O

Herbology_O

History of Magic_O

Muggle Studies_O

Potions_O

Transfiguration_O'

Stella saw the History of Magic grade and felt her heart squeeze. Theo would be proud…

She took a few steps back and looked away from the others, taking a few deep breaths. She hadn't been lying when she'd said she hadn't wanted to cry that day. She felt like that was all she did lately. She was suddenly feeling rather upset with herself for how she'd spoken to Cho the year before after Cedric's death.

Molly approached her slowly and Stella passed her results over.

"Nine O's," Molly smiled proudly before looking Ron.

"Only failed Divination and History of Magic, and who cares about them?" he said happily to Harry. "Here — swap — Knew you'd be top at Defense. We've done alright, haven't we?"

"Well done!" said Mrs. Weasley proudly, ruffling Ron's hair. "Seven O.W.L.s, that's more than Fred and George got together!"

"Hermione?" said Ginny tentatively, for Hermione still hadn't turned around. "How did you do?"

"I — not bad," said Hermione in a small voice.

"Oh, come off it," said Ron, striding over to her and whipping her results out of her hand. "Yep — nine 'Outstandings' and one 'Exceeds Expectations' at Defense Against the Dark Arts." He looked down at her, half-amused, half-exasperated. "You're actually disappointed, aren't you?"

Hermione shook her head but Harry laughed and Stella gave her a tentative smile.

"Well, we're N.E.W.T. students now!" grinned Ron. "Mum, are there any more sausages from breakfast?"

The next few weeks were spent split between the Burrow and Grimmauld. Stella had told Ginny she'd do better and she was trying. Molly always pulled Stella into a tight hug when they were alone, letting Stella cry to her for a bit and telling her little tidbits of information. Slowly, the pressure on Stella's chest was lessening. It was still there and some days were much harder than others, but Molly seemed to be able to sense it and always made Stella's favorites on those days.

Harry and Remus were becoming closer and Harry had even called him Uncle Moony in conversation once with Stella. Remus still trained Stella on her own, Harry not able to use magic in the house.

"Why can you use it in the house and I can't?" Harry asked after watching Stella and Remus practice duel one day.

"Because it's my family magic. If we were in a Potter family home it'd probably be different," she told Harry before turning to Remus. "Is there a Potter family home? Can we go see it?" She turned back to Harry, "Would you want to see it if there is one?"

"Slow down," Harry laughed.

"Never," Stella smirked.

"There is a Potter family home," Remus smirked. "I can look into it to see if it's safe to visit or not."

"Whoo!" Stella cheered, throwing her hands in the air excitedly.

"What are we screaming for?" Snape's voice suddenly asked as he swept into the room. "Ah. Potter's here. I forgot."

"Hello, Professor," Stella greeted him.

"Everything alright?" Remus asked, concern clear on his face as he stared at Snape.

"I came to speak with you about something… private," Snape told him and Stella knew what that was code for.

"Let's go to the Burrow, Harry," Stella grabbed his arm and dragged Harry to the floo, forcing him to go through first.

"I wanted to know what that was about," Harry complained as they walked through the sitting room.

"I promise you that you didn't," Stella told him as she pushed him towards the stairs. "Now, go get Ron and Ginny so we can play Quidditch."

"Fine," Harry grumbled as Stella gave Molly a hug.

It would have been a happy, peaceful holiday had it not been for the stories of disappearances, odd accidents, even of deaths now appearing almost daily in the Prophet. Sometimes Bill and Arthur brought home news before it even reached the paper. To Molly's displeasure, Harry's sixteenth birthday celebrations were marred by grisly tidings brought to the party by Remus.

"There have been another couple of dementor attacks," he announced, as Molly passed him a large slice of birthday cake. "And they've found Igor Karkaroff's body in a shack up north. The Dark Mark had been set over it — well, frankly, I'm surprised he stayed alive for even a year after deserting the Death Eaters; Sirius's brother only managed a few days as far as I can remember."

"Yes, well," said Molly, frowning, "perhaps we should talk about something diff —"

"Did you hear about Florean Fortescue, Remus?" asked Bill, who was being plied with wine by Fleur. "The man who ran —"

"— the ice-cream place in Diagon Alley?" Harry interrupted. "He used to give me free ice creams. What's happened to him?"

"Dragged off, by the look of his place."

"Why?" asked Ron, while Molly pointedly glared at Bill.

"Who knows? He must've upset them somehow. He was a good man, Florean."

"Talking of Diagon Alley," said Arthur, "looks like Ollivander's gone too."

"The wandmaker?" said Ginny, looking startled.

"That's the one. Shop's empty. No sign of a struggle. No one knows whether he left voluntarily or was kidnapped."

"But wands — what'll people do for wands?" Stella asked.

"They'll make do with other makers," said Remus. "But Ollivander was the best, and if the other side have got him it's not so good for us."

Their letters and booklists arrived the next day, Stella and Harry opening theirs at the table in Grimmauld over breakfast. Remus had used a sticking charm to put Harry's and Stella's grade on the cold box and Stella remembered when Molly used to do the same with pictures that she and her siblings had drawn for her when they were little. Harry was made Quidditch captain.

"Oh, that's going to be fun," Stella smiled.

"I'm going to build a team better than yours," Harry smirked.

Stella went to respond, ready to tell him that there was no way anyone he picked would be able to outfly Blaise, before she stopped herself, face falling.

"What?" Harry asked, looking panicked. "What's wrong?"

Stella just shook her head, stood from the table and went up to her room. She pulled Blaise's jersey out of her dresser and stripped out of her shirt, pulling the jersey on instead. She climbed into her bed, pulling Theo's quilt over herself and began to cry again. Harry walked into her room a few minutes later, climbed in the bed behind her, and wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as she cried. She could hear him sniffling behind her and knew he was crying, too. They had both lost too much.

Saturday, Stella was wearing one of Theo's old sweaters, two wands in her hair and another up her sleeve as they flooed over to the Burrow for breakfast and a trip to Diagon. Bill, who would be staying at home with Fleur (much to Hermione and Ginny's pleasure), passed a full money bag across the table to Harry and tossed another to Stella over his shoulder.

"Where's mine?" demanded Ron at once, his eyes wide.

"Those are already theirs, idiot," said Bill. "I got it out of your vaults for you because it's taking about five hours for the public to get to their gold at the moment, the goblins have tightened security so much. Two days ago Arkie Philpott had a Probity Probe stuck up his . . . Well, trust me, this way's easier."

"No, no. Tell us more," Stella smirked as she stood behind him and Fleur.

"Thanks, Bill," said Harry, pocketing the gold.

" 'E is always so thoughtful," purred Fleur adoringly, stroking Bill's nose.

Stella mimed vomiting into her cereal behind Fleur. Harry choked over his cornflakes, and Ron thumped him on the back. Stella didn't mind Fleur, honestly, but seeing someone fawning over her big brother was still icky.

It was an overcast, murky day. One of the special Ministry of Magic cars, in which Stella had ridden once before, was awaiting them in the front yard when they emerged from the house, pulling on their cloaks.

"It's good Dad can get us these again," said Ron appreciatively, stretching luxuriously as the car moved smoothly away from the Burrow, Bill and Fleur waving from the kitchen window. He, Stella, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny were all sitting in roomy comfort in the wide backseat.

"Don't get used to it, it's only because of Harry," said Arthur over his shoulder. He and Molly were in front with the Ministry driver and Remus; the front passenger seat had obligingly stretched into what resembled a three-seater sofa. "He's been given top-grade security status. And we'll be joining up with additional security at the Leaky Cauldron too."

"It's because you're 'The Chosen One'," Stella stage whispered to him, causing him to snort a laugh.

"Here you are, then," said the driver, a surprisingly short while later, speaking for the first time as he slowed in Charing Cross Road and stopped outside the Leaky Cauldron. "I'm to wait for you, any idea how long you'll be?"

"A couple of hours, I expect," said Arthur. "Ah, good, he's here!"

There were no aurors waiting outside the inn but Hagrid instead, oblivious to the stares of passing muggles.

"Harry!" he boomed, sweeping Harry into a bone-crushing hug the moment Harry had stepped out of the car, grabbing Stella and doing the same to her right after. "Buckbeak- Witherwings, I mean- yeh should see him, Stella, he's so happy ter be back in the open air—"

"Glad he's pleased," Stella nodded, rubbing her ribs.

"We didn't know security meant you," Harry smiled brightly.

"I know. Jus' like old times, innit? See, the Ministry wanted ter send a bunch o' Aurors, but Dumbledore said I'd do," said Hagrid proudly, throwing out his chest and tucking his thumbs into his pockets. "Let's get goin' then — after yeh, Molly, Arthur —"

Stella looked around the Leaky Cauldron, never having seen it empty before. Only Tom, the landlord, wizened and toothless, remained. He looked up hopefully as they entered, but before he could speak, Hagrid said importantly, "Jus' passin' through today, Tom, sure yeh understand, Hogwarts business, yeh know."

"Actually, Tom, would you be able to pack enough lunch to go for about nine of us and for Hagrid to be picked up in a few hours?" Stella asked, passing over more than enough for all of them.

"Of course!" Tom brightened. "A few hours you say? I'll have it ready and waiting!"

Stella gave her thanks and the group walked through the bar and out into the chilly little courtyard at the back where the dustbins stood. Hagrid raised his pink umbrella and rapped a certain brick into the wall, which opened at once to form an archway onto a winding cobbled street. They stepped through the entrance and paused, looking around.

Diagon Alley had changed. The colorful, glittering window displays of spell books, potion ingredients, and cauldrons were lost to view, hidden behind the large Ministry of Magic posters that had been pasted over them. Most of these somber purple posters carried blown-up versions of the security advice on the Ministry pamphlets that had been sent out over the summer, but others bore moving black-and-white photographs of Death Eaters known to be on the loose. Bellatrix Lestrange was sneering from the front of the nearest apothecary. A few windows were boarded up, including those of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. On the other hand, a number of shabby-looking stalls had sprung up along the street. The nearest one, which had been erected outside Flourish and Blotts, under a striped, stained awning, had a cardboard sign pinned to its front:

'AMULETS: Effective Against Werewolves, Dementors, and Inferi'

Stella thought about buying one as a joke to give to Remus but chose better. A seedy-looking little wizard was rattling armfuls of silver symbols on chains at passersby.

"One for your little girl, madam?" he called at Molly as they passed, leering at Ginny, as Stella had hidden behind Ron when the man's eyes had begun sweeping over their group. "Protect her pretty neck?"

"If I were on duty . . ." said Arthur, glaring angrily at the amulet seller.

"Yes, but don't go arresting anyone now, dear, we're in a hurry," said Molly, nervously consulting a list. "I think we'd better do Madam Malkin's first, Hermione wants new dress robes, and Ron's showing much too much ankle in his school robes, and you must need new ones too, Stella and Harry, you've both grown so much — come on, everyone —"

"Molly, it doesn't make sense for all of us to go to Madam Malkin's," said Arthur. "Why don't those four go with Hagrid and Remus, and we can go to Flourish and Blotts and get everyone's schoolbooks?"

"I don't know," said Molly anxiously, clearly torn between a desire to finish the shopping quickly and the wish to stick together in a pack. "Hagrid, Remus, do you think — ?"

"We've got them, Molly," Remus smiled kindly.

Molly nodded and Stella wondered if Molly would have been as convinced if it had just been Hagrid going with them. She, Arthur, and Ginny left for Flourish and Blotts as Stella, Harry, Hermione, Ron, Remus, and Hagrid set off towards Madam Malkin's.

"Migh' be a bit of a squeeze in there with all of us," said Hagrid, stopping outside Madam Malkin's and bending down to peer through the window. "I'll stand guard outside, all right?"

The four teenagers and Remus headed inside. It appeared, at first glance, to be empty, but no sooner had the door swung shut behind them than they heard a familiar voice issuing from behind a rack of dress robes in spangled green and blue.

". . . not a child, in case you haven't noticed, Mother. I am perfectly capable of doing my shopping alone."

Stella groaned, head tipping backwards unhappily and hid behind a clothing rack, Remus chuckling as he went with her. A teenage boy with a pale, pointed face and white-blond hair appeared from behind the rack, wearing a handsome set of dark green robes that glittered with pins around the hem and the edges of the sleeves. He strode to the mirror and examined himself; it was a few moments before he noticed Harry, Ron, and Hermione reflected over his shoulder. His light gray eyes narrowed.

"If you're wondering what the smell is, Mother, a Mudblood just walked in," said Draco Malfoy.

Stella came right back out of her hiding place and Draco's eyes widened.

"I don't think there's any need for language like that!" said Madam Malkin, scurrying out from behind the clothes rack holding a tape measure and a wand. "And I don't want wands drawn in my shop either!" she added hastily, for a glance toward the door had shown her Harry and Ron both standing there with their wands out and pointing at Malfoy. Hermione, who was standing slightly behind them, whispered, "No, don't, honestly, it's not worth it. . . ."

"Yeah, like you'd dare do magic out of school," sneered Malfoy. "Who blacked your eye, Granger? I want to send them flowers."

"What cell is your father in? I want to send some to him," Stella tossed out, voice sounding rather monotone as she stared at her disowned cousin.

Narcissa Malfoy strolled out from behind the clothes rack.

"Put those away," she said coldly to Harry and Ron. "If you attack my son again, I shall ensure that it is the last thing you ever do."

"Really?" said Harry, taking a step forward and gazing into the smoothly arrogant face that, for all its pallor, still resembled her sister's. He was as tall as she was now. "Going to get a few Death Eater pals to do us in, are you?"

Madam Malkin squealed and clutched at her heart.

"Really, you shouldn't accuse — dangerous thing to say — wands away, please!"

But Harry did not lower his wand. Narcissa Malfoy smiled unpleasantly.

"I see that being Dumbledore's favorite has given you a false sense of security, Harry Potter. But Dumbledore won't always be there to protect you."

Harry looked mockingly all around the shop. "Wow . . . look at that . . . he's not here now! So why not have a go? They might be able to find you a double cell in Azkaban with your loser of a husband!"

"Dumbledore may not be here, but I am," Stella spoke up and Narcissa's head snapped to Stella, eyes widening as if she'd just realized that Stella was there. "Make a move on any of them and you'll resemble Dolohov once I'm through with you."

"I expect the two of you will be reunited with dear Sirius before I am reunited with Lucius," Narcissa hissed.

"My, my, Narcissa. Being disinherited does not look good on you," Stella smirked, blocking Remus with an arm so he couldn't step towards Narcissa, Hermione pulling Harry's arm down as he tried to raise it against Narcissa. "Being brought back into the family looks amazing on Andromeda and Nymphodora though. I'll be sure to let them know I saw you at tea tomorrow."

Stella had no intentions on having tea with Andromeda or Tonks, having only seen Tonks in passing a few times at Grimmauld. Narcissa didn't need to know that though.

"I think this left sleeve could come up a little bit more, dear, let me just —" Madam Malkin tried distracting everyone.

"Ouch!" bellowed Malfoy, slapping her hand away. "Watch where you're putting your pins, woman! Mother — I don't think I want these anymore —"

He pulled the robes over his head and threw them onto the floor at Madam Malkin's feet.

"You're right, Draco," said Narcissa, with a contemptuous glance at Hermione, "now I know the kind of scum that shops here. . . . We'll do better at Twilfitt and Tatting's."

And with that, the pair of them strode out of the shop, Malfoy taking care to bang as hard as he could into Ron on the way out.

"Well, really!" said Madam Malkin, snatching up the fallen robes and moving the tip of her wand over them like a vacuum cleaner, so that it removed all the dust.

She was distracted all through the fitting of Ron's, Stella's, and Harry's new robes, tried to sell Hermione wizard's dress robes instead of witch's, and when she finally bowed them out of the shop it was with an air of being glad to see the back of them.

"Got ev'rything?" asked Hagrid brightly when they reappeared at his side.

"Just about," said Harry. "Did you see the Malfoys?"

"Yeah," said Hagrid, unconcerned. "Bu' they wouldn' dare make trouble in the middle o' Diagon Alley, Harry. Don' worry abou' them."

"Oh, they tried," Remus smirked. "Stella Nova took care of them though."

"Everyone all right?" asked Molly as she, Arthur, and Ginny appeared, all clutching heavy packages of books. "Got your robes? Right then, we can pop in at the Apothecary and Eeylops on the way to Fred and George's — stick close, now…"

Stella got everything on her list for Potions and thought of a few pranks for Malfoy, grabbing a few other ingredients and deciding that she could get anything else she needed through mail order. Stella bought a large box of owl nuts at Eeylops for Owlivia. Then, with Molly checking her watch every minute or so, they headed farther along the street in search of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.

"We really haven't got too long," Molly said. "So we'll just have a quick look around and then back to the car. We must be close, that's number ninety-two . . . ninety-four . . ."

"Whoa," said Ron, stopping in his tracks.

Set against the dull, poster-muffled shop fronts around them, Fred and George's windows hit the eye like a firework display.

Casual passersby were looking back over their shoulders at the windows, and a few rather stunned-looking people had actually come to a halt, transfixed. The left-hand window was dazzlingly full of an assortment of goods that revolved, popped, flashed, bounced, and shrieked; Harry's eyes began to water just looking at it. The righthand window was covered with a gigantic poster, purple like those of the Ministry, but emblazoned with flashing yellow letters:

'WHY ARE YOU WORRYING ABOUT YOU-KNOW-WHO? YOU SHOULD BE WORRYING ABOUT U-NO-POO — THE CONSTIPATION SENSATION THAT'S GRIPPING THE NATION!'

"They'll be murdered in their beds," Molly whispered.

"No, they won't," Ron argued, laughing with Harry, Stella, and Remus. "This is brilliant."

Stella led the way into the shop, far too excited to wait. She helped back the shop but she had yet to visit it, too busy with feeling so lousy and then being distracted by Harry's arrival. It was packed with customers; Stella could not get near the shelves. She stared around, looking up at the boxes piled to the ceiling: Here were the Skiving Snackboxes that the twins had perfected during their last, unfinished year at Hogwarts; Stella noticed that the Nosebleed Nougat was most popular, with only one battered box left on the shelf. There were bins full of trick wands, the cheapest merely turning into rubber chickens or pairs of briefs when waved, the most expensive beating the unwary user around the head and neck, and boxes of quills, which came in Self-Inking, Spell-Checking, and Smart-Answer varieties. A space cleared in the crowd, and Harry pushed his way toward the counter, where a gaggle of delighted ten-year-olds was watching a tiny little wooden man slowly ascending the steps to a real set of gallows, both perched on a box that read: reusable hangman — 'Spell It Or He'll Swing!'

" 'Patented Daydream Charms . . .' "

Hermione had managed to squeeze through to a large display near the counter and was reading the information on the back of a box bearing a highly colored picture of a handsome youth and a swooning girl who were standing on the deck of a pirate ship.

" 'One simple incantation and you will enter a top-quality, highly realistic, thirty-minute daydream, easy to fit into the average school lesson and virtually undetectable (side effects include vacant expression and minor drooling). Not for sale to under-sixteens.' You know," said Hermione, looking to Stella, "that really is extraordinary magic!"

"For that, Hermione," said a voice behind them, "you can have one for free."

A beaming Fred stood before them, wearing a set of magenta robes that clashed magnificently with his flaming hair, face falling a bit when he saw Hermione's face.

"What's happened to your eye, Mia?"

"Your punching telescope," she said ruefully and Stella wondered if Hermione was flirting.

"Oh blimey, I forgot about those," said Fred. "Here —" He pulled a tub out of his pocket and approached her. "I'll just dab a bit of this on it and it'll be gone within the hour. We had to find a decent bruise cream remover. We're testing most of our products on ourselves."

"It is safe, isn't it?" she asked.

"Course it is," he gave her a soft smile, putting a bit of the cream on his finger and gently applying it to her eye, turning to Harry and Stella once he'd finished. "Come on, Harry, Stella, I'll give you a tour."

They followed Fred towards the back of the shop, where they saw a stand of card and rope tricks.

"Muggle magic tricks!" said Fred happily, pointing them out. "For freaks like Dad, you know, who love Muggle stuff. It's not a big earner, but we do fairly steady business, they're great novelties. . . . Oh, here's George. . . ."

Fred's twin shook Harry's hand energetically before hugging Stella.

"Giving them the tour? Come through the back you two. That's where we're making the real money — pocket anything, you, and you'll pay in more than Galleons!" he added warningly to a small boy who hastily whipped his hand out of the tub labeled 'EDIBLE DARK MARKS – THEY'LL MAKE ANYONE SICK!'

George pushed back a curtain beside the Muggle tricks and Stella saw a darker, less crowded room. The packaging on the products lining these shelves was more subdued.

"We've just developed this more serious line," said Fred. "Funny how it happened . . ."

"You wouldn't believe how many people, even people who work at the Ministry, can't do a decent Shield Charm," said George. " 'Course, they didn't have you teaching them, Harry."

"That's right. . . . Well, we thought Shield Hats were a bit of a laugh, you know, challenge your mate to jinx you while wearing it and watch his face when the jinx just bounces off. But the Ministry bought five hundred for all its support staff! And we're still getting massive orders!"

"So we've expanded into a range of Shield Cloaks, Shield Gloves . . ."

". . . I mean, they wouldn't help much against the Unforgivable Curses, but for minor to moderate hexes or jinxes . . ."

"And then we thought we'd get into the whole area of Defense Against the Dark Arts, because it's such a money spinner," continued George enthusiastically. "This is cool. Look, Instant Darkness Powder, we're importing it from Peru. Handy if you want to make a quick escape."

"And our Decoy Detonators are just walking off the shelves, look," said Fred, pointing at a number of weird-looking black horn-type objects that were indeed attempting to scurry out of sight. "You just drop one surreptitiously and it'll run off and make a nice loud noise out of sight, giving you a diversion if you need one."

"Handy," said Harry, impressed.

"Wicked," Stella was already getting ideas.

"Here," said George, catching a couple and throwing them to Harry and handing two to Stella.

A young witch with short blonde hair poked her head around the curtain; Stella saw that she too was wearing magenta staff robes.

"There's a customer out here looking for a joke cauldron, Mr. Weasley and Mr. Weasley," she said.

Stella found it very odd to hear Fred and George called "Mr. Weasley," but they took it in their stride.

"Right you are, Verity, I'm coming," said George promptly. "Harry, Stella, you help yourself to anything you want, all right? No charge."

"I can't do that!" said Harry, who had already pulled out his money bag to pay for the Decoy Detonators.

"You don't pay here," said Fred firmly, waving away Harry's gold.

"But —"

"Harry, you gave us our start-up loan, we haven't forgotten. Stella, you've been funding us for two years now," said George sternly. "Take whatever you like, and just remember to tell people where you got it, if they ask."

George swept through the curtain to help with the customers and Fred led Harry back towards the front. Stella stayed behind, looking over everything curiously. She grabbed a portion of the darkness powder and a few of the cloaks and gloves. She walked to the register where George was standing.

"Are you sure, George?" she asked him, feeling rather small beside her much taller brother.

"Of course," George told her, passing her a bag to hold her stuff in. "Just promise that you'll continue causing trouble now that we're gone?"

"Of course," Stella nodded. "I'll even teach some of the younger students. Keep it going."

"I actually wanted to talk to you alone," he admitted. "I don't want to steal you from the group, though. Lupin looks rather nervous over your shoulder. I don't think he's spotted you yet. Let's go join everyone."

Ginny was eyeing love potions when they got there and Fred was explaining how they worked, Geroge deciding to cut in.

"— and the attractiveness of the girl," said George. "But we're not selling them to our sister," he added, becoming suddenly stern, "not when she's already got about five boys on the go from what we've —"

"Whatever you've heard from Ron is a big fat lie," said Ginny calmly, leaning forward to take a small pink pot off the shelf. "What's this?"

"Guaranteed ten-second pimple vanisher," said Fred. "Excellent on everything from boils to blackheads, but don't change the subject. Are you or are you not currently going out with a boy called Dean Thomas?"

"I'll take one of those," Stella said, reaching out and grabbing a pot, slipping it into her bag.

"Yes, I am," said Ginny. "And last time I looked, he was definitely one boy, not five. What are those?"

She was pointing at a number of round balls of fluff in shades of pink and purple, all rolling around the bottom of a cage and emitting high-pitched squeaks.

"Pygmy Puffs," said George. "Miniature puffskeins, we can't breed them fast enough. So what about Michael Corner?"

"I dumped him, he was a bad loser," said Ginny, putting a finger through the bars of the cage and watching the Pygmy Puffs crowd around it. "They're really cute!"

"They're fairly cuddly, yes," conceded Fred. "But you're moving through boyfriends a bit fast, aren't you?"

Ginny turned to look at him, her hands on her hips. There was such a Mrs. Weasley-ish glare on her face that Stella was surprised Fred didn't recoil. She certainly did.

"It's none of your business. And I'll thank you," she added angrily to Ron, who had just appeared at George's elbow, laden with merchandise, "not to tell tales about me to these two!"

"That's three Galleons, nine Sickles, and a Knut," said Fred, examining the many boxes in Ron's arms. "Cough up."

"I'm your brother!"

"And that's our stuff you're nicking. Three Galleons, nine Sickles. I'll knock off the Knut."

"But I haven't got three Galleons, nine Sickles!"

"You'd better put it back then, and mind you put it on the right shelves."

Ron dropped several boxes, swore, and made a rude hand gesture at Fred that was unfortunately spotted by Molly, who had chosen that moment to appear.

"If I see you do that again I'll jinx your fingers together," she said sharply.

"Mum, can I have a Pygmy Puff?" said Ginny at once.

"A what?" said Mrs. Weasley warily.

"Look, they're so sweet. . . ."

"I'll get you one," Stella offered. "I didn't know what to get you for your birthday, anyhow."

The three moved towards the Pygmy Puffs, smiling at the little puff balls. Ginny picked a purple one and Stella got a bright, pink one for Luna. Stella wondered around a bit more, looking around at everything with Remus, him smiling brightly and wishing the twins had been around when he was younger.

"I think Hogwarts would have burnt down," Stella laughed as put a few boxes of Fireworks into her bag.

"It still might with you around," Remus joked, eyeing her bag.

"I think I'm quitting Quidditch," she announced, causing Remus to turn to her sharply.

"What?" he asked, eyes wide.

"I…" Stella couldn't explain it though.

The idea of playing without Blaise in the air or Theo cheering them on… It was a bit too much for her.

"I don't want to play anymore," she told him. "It's not the same."

"Stella Nova…" Remus sighed.

"I know," she told him. "I know. I can't just drop everything because… because they aren't here. I just don't think I could do it, honestly. I'm going to make sure that I get the spots for the team on the sign-up sheet and then I'm going to build the team up and fly for a bit, see if I can handle it. I just don't know."

Remus put his arm around Stella's shoulders and pulled her close to his side. She sniffled a bit and wiped her eyes quickly, not wanting anyone to see.

"I know this has been hard for you," Remus whispered to her. "I've been through a bit of this as well and I hate that you're experiencing it. All I can tell you is that it'll get better. One day, Theo will wake and this war will end and the world will be brighter again. Don't close yourself off to that."

"I'm trying," she promised.

"I know you are," he assured her. "You've made so much progress and I am so proud of you."

"Thanks, Uncle Moony," Stella gave him a weak smile.

"Of course," he told her, squeezing her shoulder gently. "Let's get back to the others."

Stella was sitting in the kitchen with Fleur and Molly a few days later, Harry upstairs with Ron and Hermione and Ginny trying to hurry her laundry up so she could escape.

"Stella. Serez-vous ma demoiselle d'honneur?" Fleur asked, eyes full of hope. (Will you be my bridesmaid?)

"Oui, Fleur," Stella smiled brightly.

Fleur squealed happily and began talking about the wedding more. Ginny practically ran from the room once her laundry was done. Harry was down a moment later, searching for Stella.

". . . Bill and I 'ave almost decided on only three bridesmaids, Stella, Ginny, and Gabrielle will look very sweet togezzer. I am theenking of dressing zem in pale gold — pink would of course be 'orrible with Ginny's 'air —"

"Ah, Harry!" said Molly loudly, cutting across Fleur's monologue. "Good, I wanted to explain about the security arrangements for the journey to Hogwarts tomorrow. We've got Ministry cars again, and there will be Aurors waiting at the station —"

"Is Tonks going to be there?" asked Harry, handing over his Quidditch things.

"No, I don't think so, she's been stationed somewhere else from what Arthur said."

"She has let 'erself go, zat Tonks," Fleur mused, examining her own stunning reflection in the back of a teaspoon. "A big mistake if you ask —"

"Yes, thank you," said Mrs. Weasley tartly, cutting across Fleur again. "Do you both have your trunks packed? I know you probably do, Stella."

The two had stayed the night the night before and were staying again that night to make getting to the train easier. Stella made sure everyone was packed and sighed as she fell onto her old bed. Harry came into the room a few minutes later, in his pajamas already.

"Can I stay in here?" he asked her, a small blush on his face.

"Sure," Stella nodded, sitting up. "I'll get changed in the bathroom and be right back."

Stella returned in sleep shorts and a tank top. She pushed the window open, letting in a cool breeze. The house was always hot on the top floor and Stella had sweat for a bit before opening the window just the night before. Harry was staring at her when she turned around.

"You alright?" she asked him, seeing his face flushed.

"Hot," he stated.

"It's always warm up here," she nodded, climbing under the thin blanket with Harry. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," Harry nodded, swallowing thickly. "Sorry. Had a nightmare last night."

"I'm sorry," Stella flinched, knowing the feeling all too well.

Stella woke wrapped in Harry's arms. The Ministry cars glided up to the front of the Burrow to find them waiting, trunks packed; Hermione's cat, Crookshanks, safely enclosed in his traveling basket; and Hedwig, Owlivia, Pigwidgeon, Luna's Pygmy Puff and Ginny Pygmy Puff, Arnold, in cages.

"Au revoir, 'Arry," said Fleur throatily, kissing him good-bye.

Ron hurried forward, looking hopeful, but Ginny stuck out her foot and Ron fell, sprawling in the dust at Fleur's feet. Furious, red faced, and dirt-spattered, he hurried into the car without saying good-bye.

There was no cheerful Hagrid waiting for them at King's Cross Station. Instead, two grim-faced, bearded Aurors in dark Muggle suits moved forward the moment the cars stopped and, flanking the party, marched them into the station without speaking.

"Quick, quick, through the barrier," said Molly, who seemed a little flustered by this austere efficiency. "Harry had better go first, with —"

She looked inquiringly at one of the Aurors, who nodded briefly, seized Harry's upper arm, and attempted to steer him toward the barrier between platforms nine and ten.

"I can walk, thanks," said Harry irritably, jerking his arm out of the Auror's grip.

Stella went through right behind Harry and the auror, Hermione and the others behind her. Harry waved for Stella, Ron, and Hermione to follow him up the platform, looking for an empty compartment.

"We can't, Harry," said Hermione, looking apologetic. "Ron and I've got to go to the prefects' carriage first and then patrol the corridors for a bit."

"Oh yeah, I forgot," said Harry.

"Well, don't sound too put out," Stella smirked. "You've still got me."

"You'd better get straight on the train, all of you, you've only got a few minutes to go," said Molly, consulting her watch. "Well, have a lovely term, Ron…"

Harry moved off to the side with Arthur and Stella looked around. Remus had said he'd try to be there to see her off but it seemed like he wasn't going to make it. She didn't blame him, it had been a full moon just the day before. Right when she was going to get on the train, Remus walked onto the platform through the barrier. She let out a relieved breath and hugged him tighter than normal.

"Sorry I'm late, cub," he told her.

"It's okay," she told him. "I'm just happy you're here."

"Uncle Moony," Harry smiled.

"Harry," Remus beamed. "I just came to you both off."

"You can say you're here for Stella. It's alright," Harry smirked.

"Nonsense," Remus shook his head, pulling Harry into the hug. "Both of you have a good term. Be careful and look out for each other. Write often."

"We will," Stella promised. "I left a key on the table to the house in Hogsmeade if you wanna stay for a bit. Love you, Uncle Moony."

"I love you, too. Both of you," the train whistled behind them. "Go on now."

Stella and Harry hurried onto the train, Remus and Arthur helping them push their trunks on board.

"Now, Harry dear, you're coming to us for Christmas. It's all fixed with Dumbledore," Molly told Harry. "You make sure to look after yourself and be good and stay safe!"

Harry and Stella waved to Molly and Remus until the train turned the corner and they were lost from view. Ginny was a little way along the corridor, chatting to some friends. Stella made her way to Ginny, dragging her trunk behind her and Harry following behind.

People stared at Harry shamelessly as he followed her. They even pressed their faces against the windows of their compartments to get a look at him. She had expected an upswing in the amount of gaping and gawping Harry would have to endure but this was ridiculous. Stella tapped Ginny on the shoulder.

"Want to find a compartment with us?" she asked her sister.

"I have to meet Dean," said Ginny brightly. "See you later."

"See ya," Stella smirked before seeing all the girls staring at Harry behind her.

"Hi, Harry! Hi, Stella!" Neville's voice called out and they both turned, greeting him.

"Hello," Luna smiled from behind Neville.

"Luna, hi, how are you?" Harry asked.

"Very well, thank you," said Luna, clutching a copy of the Quibbler to her chest.

"Quibbler still going strong then?" Harry asked her.

"Oh yes, circulation's well up," said Luna happily.

"Let's find seats," Stella spoke up.

They finally found an empty compartment and they hurried inside. Harry put Stella's trunk on the rack for her, surprised when it weighted almost nothing.

"Feather-light charm," she smirked. "I'll get you one for Christmas."

"Cool," Harry smiled.

"They're even staring at us!" said Neville. "Because we're with you!"

"They're staring at you because you were at the Ministry too," said Harry, as he hoisted his trunk into the luggage rack. "Our little adventure there was all over the Daily Prophet, you must've seen it."

"Yes, I thought Gran would be angry about all the publicity," said Neville, "but she was really pleased. Says I'm starting to live up to my dad at long last. Oi! Trevor! Get back here!"

"Are we still doing D.A. meetings this year, Harry?" asked Luna, who was detaching a pair of psychedelic spectacles from the middle of The Quibbler.

"No point now we've got rid of Umbridge, is there?" said Harry, sitting down.

Neville bumped his head against the seat as he emerged from under it. He looked most disappointed.

"I liked the D.A.! I learned loads with you!"

"I enjoyed the meetings too," said Luna serenely. "It was like having friends."

"Excuse you," Stella spoke up immediately. "We've been friends since we were kids. I even got you a present! Look!"

Stella pulled the pygmy puff down and passed it to Luna. There was a disturbance outside their compartment door; a group of fourth-year girls were whispering and giggling together on the other side of the glass.

"You ask him!"

"No, you!"

"I'll do it!"

And one of them, a bold-looking girl with large dark eyes, a prominent chin, and long black hair pushed her way through the door.

"Hi, Harry, I'm Romilda, Romilda Vane," she said loudly and confidently. "Why don't you join us in our compartment? You don't have to sit with them," she added in a stage whisper, indicating Neville's bottom, which was sticking out from under the seat again as he groped around for Trevor, and Luna, who was now cuddling the pygmy puff and showing it the Quibbler.

"They're friends of mine," said Harry coldly.

"Oh," said the girl.

"Yeah," Stella spoke up, eyes narrowed. "Oh."

She withdrew, sliding the door closed behind her.

"People expect you to have cooler friends than us," said Luna, once again displaying her knack for embarrassing honesty.

"You are cool," said Harry shortly. "None of them was at the Ministry. They didn't fight with me."

"That's a very nice thing to say," beamed Luna. Then she pushed her Spectrespecs farther up her nose and settled down to read The Quibbler.

"We didn't face him, though," said Neville, emerging from under the seat with fluff and dust in his hair and a resigned-looking Trevor in his hand. "You did. You should hear my gran talk about you. 'That Harry Potter's got more backbone than the whole Ministry of Magic put together!' She'd give anything to have you as a grandson. . . ."

Harry pulled Stella closer to him. Anytime someone mentioned him facing Voldemort, he would get uncomfortable and grab her hand or pull her to him. It was almost like third year all over again. Harry changed the subject to O.W.L. results. While Neville recited his grades and wondered aloud whether he would be allowed to take a Transfiguration N.E.W.T. with only an "Acceptable," Stella could tell that Harry wasn't really listening so Stella spoke up.

"I'm sure you can speak with her. I'll agree to tutor you and everything if needed."

"Would you really?" Neville asked excitedly.

"Of course," Stella smiled.

"You all right, Harry? You look funny," said Neville.

Harry started. "Sorry — I —"

"Wrackspurt got you?" asked Luna sympathetically, peering at Harry through her enormous colored spectacles.

"I — what?"

"A Wrackspurt . . . They're invisible. They float in through your ears and make your brain go fuzzy," she said. "I thought I felt one zooming around in here."

She flapped her hands at thin air, as though beating off large invisible moths. Stella began batting her hands around as well to assist. Harry and Neville caught each other's eyes and hastily began to talk of Quidditch.

The weather beyond the train windows was as patchy as it had been all summer; they passed through stretches of the chilling mist, then out into weak, clear sunlight. It was during one of the clear spells, when the sun was visible almost directly overhead, that Ron and Hermione entered the compartment at last.

"Wish the lunch trolley would hurry up, I'm starving," said Ron longingly, slumping into the seat beside Stella and rubbing his stomach. "Hi, Neville. Hi, Luna." Ron turned to her. "Your cousin is an ass."

"What'd Tonks do?" Stella asked.

"Malfoy."

"Tonks did Malfoy?" Stella scrunched her nose up. "No wonder she's been in such a sad mood."

"No," Ron groaned, rubbing his face and dropping the subject.

Stella had heard Harry's theory about Draco being a death eater and had listened to Ron and Hermione blow him off, saying Voldemort wouldn't make a sixteen year old a death eater. She thought of Uncle Reggie but didn't say anything, knowing for a fact that it had happened in the past.

"Malfoy was made prefect but he's just sitting with the other Slytherins," Hermione clarified.

"Lazy ass," Ron grumbled.

"Maybe he preferred the Inquisitorial Squad," said Hermione. "Maybe being a prefect seems a bit tame after that."

"I don't think so," said Harry. "I think he's —"

But before he could expound on his theory, the compartment door slid open again and a breathless third-year girl stepped inside.

"I'm supposed to deliver these to Neville Longbottom, Stella Black, and Harry P-Potter," she faltered, as her eyes met Harry's and she turned scarlet.

She was holding out three scrolls of parchment tied with violet ribbon. Perplexed, Stella, Harry, and Neville took the scroll addressed to each of them and the girl stumbled back out of the compartment.

"What is it?" Ron demanded, as Stella unrolled hers.

"An invitation," said Harry.

'Stella, I would be delighted if you would join me for a bite of lunch in compartment C. Sincerely, Professor H. E. F. Slughorn'

"Who's Professor Slughorn?" asked Neville, looking perplexedly at his own invitation.

"New teacher," said Harry. "Well, I suppose we'll have to go, won't we?"

"But what does he want me for?" asked Neville nervously, as though he was expecting detention.

"He likes purebloods," Stella sighed.

"Let's go under the Invisibility Cloak, then we might get a good look at Malfoy on the way, see what he's up to," Harry stated.

This idea, however, came to nothing: The corridors, which were packed with people on the lookout for the lunch trolley, were impossible to negotiate while wearing the cloak. Harry stowed it regretfully back in his bag, reflecting that it would have been nice to wear it just to avoid all the staring, which seemed to have increased in intensity even since he had last walked down the train. Every now and then, students would hurtle out of their compartments to get a better look at him. The exception was Cho Chang, who darted into her compartment when she saw Harry coming. As Harry passed the window, he saw her deep in determined conversation with her friend Marietta, who was wearing a very thick layer of makeup that did not entirely obscure the odd formation of pimples still etched across her face. Smirking slightly, Harry pushed on, leading Stella by her hand, Neville behind them.

When they reached compartment C, they saw at once that they were not Slughorn's only invitees, although judging by the enthusiasm of Slughorn's welcome, Harry was the most warmly anticipated.

"Harry, m'boy!" said Slughorn, jumping up at the sight of him so that his great velvet-covered belly seemed to fill all the remaining space in the compartment. His shiny bald head and great silvery mustache gleamed as brightly in the sunlight as the golden buttons on his waistcoat. "Good to see you, good to see you! And you Stella! And you must be Mr. Longbottom!"

Neville nodded, looking scared. At a gesture from Slughorn, they sat down, Stella beside Harry and Neville opposite her, in the only three empty seats, which were nearest the door. There were two seventh years that Stella didn't recognize and, squashed in the corner beside Slughorn and looking as though she were not entirely sure how she'd gotten there, Ginny.

"Now, do you know everyone?" Slughorn asked the three. "This is Cormic McLaggen, perhaps you've come across each other? No?"

McLaggen, a large, wiry-haired youth, raised a hand, and Harry and Neville nodded back at him.

"— and this is Marcus Belby, I don't know whether — ?"

Belby, who was thin and nervous-looking, gave a strained smile.

"— and this charming young lady tells me she knows you!" Slughorn finished.

Ginny grimaced and Stella decided to give her a bit of assistance.

"Hello, little sister," Stella told her.

"Sister?" Slughorn asked.

"I was raised by the Weasleys," Stella explained.

"Well now, this is most pleasant," said Slughorn cozily. "A chance to get to know you all a little better. Here, take a napkin. I've packed my own lunch; the trolley, as I remember it, is heavy on licorice wands, and a poor old man's digestive system isn't quite up to such things. . . . Pheasant, Belby?"

Belby started and accepted what looked like half a cold pheasant.

"I was just telling young Marcus here that I had the pleasure of teaching his Uncle Damocles," Slughorn told Harry and Neville, now passing around a basket of rolls. "Outstanding wizard, outstanding, and his Order of Merlin most well-deserved. Do you see much of your uncle, Marcus?"

Unfortunately, Belby had just taken a large mouthful of pheasant; in his haste to answer Slughorn he swallowed too fast, turned purple, and began to choke.

"Anapneo," said Slughorn calmly, pointing his wand at Belby, whose airway seemed to clear at once.

"Not . . . not much of him, no," gasped Belby, his eyes streaming.

"Well, of course, I daresay he's busy," said Slughorn, looking questioningly at Belby. "I doubt he invented the Wolfsbane Potion without considerable hard work!"

Stella was paying attention now.

"I suppose . . ." said Belby, who seemed afraid to take another bite of pheasant until he was sure that Slughorn had finished with him. "Er . . . he and my dad don't get on very well, you see, so I don't really know much about . . ."

Stella was no longer paying attention. Belby's voice tailed away as Slughorn gave him a cold smile and turned to McLaggen instead.

"Now, you, Cormac," said Slughorn, "I happen to know you see a lot of your Uncle Tiberius, because he has a rather splendid picture of the two of you hunting nogtails in, I think, Norfolk?"

"Oh, yeah, that was fun, that was," said McLaggen. "We went with Bertie Higgs and Rufus Scrimgeour — this was before he became Minister, obviously

"Ah, you know Bertie and Rufus too?" beamed Slughorn, now offering around a small tray of pies; somehow, Belby was missed out. "Now tell me . . ."

It was Neville's turn next: This was a very uncomfortable ten minutes, for Neville's parents, well-known Aurors, had been tortured into insanity by Bellatrix Lestrange and a couple of Death Eater cronies. At the end of Neville's interview, Stella had the impression that Slughorn was reserving judgment on Neville, yet to see whether he had any of his parents' flair.

"Stella Black," Slughorn turned to her as Stella was wondering if Blaise and Theo would have been invited had they been here. "The daughter of Sirius Black, who was the only Black to not be in Slytherin. You must tell me now. Are you head of the family after your father's passing?"

Harry and Stella gripped hands so tightly that Stella was surprised that either of them had any circulation left.

"I am," she nodded, voice small.

"Oh, the Blacks run so many businesses! How are you handling them?"

"I have help from the goblins at Gringotts," she admitted. "They've given the most helpful advice and advised me since I was eleven."

Slughorn asked a few more questions about the family businesses and how many seats Stella held in the Wizengamot. Stella decided that she did not like Slughorn.

"And now," said Slughorn, shifting massively in his seat with the air of a compere introducing his star act. "Harry Potter! Where to begin? I feel I barely scratched the surface when we met over the summer!" He contemplated Harry for a moment as though he was a particularly large and succulent piece of pheasant, then said, " 'The Chosen One,' they're calling you now!"

Belby and McLaggen were staring at Harry as he said nothing, just holding Stella's hand impossibly tighter.

"Of course," said Slughorn, watching Harry closely, "there have been rumors for years. . . . I remember when — well — after that terrible night — Lily — James — and you survived — and the word was that you must have powers beyond the ordinary —

"Such rumors this summer. Of course, one doesn't know what to believe, the Prophet has been known to print inaccuracies, make mistakes — but there seems little doubt, given the number of witnesses, that there was quite a disturbance at the Ministry and that you were there in the thick of it all!"

Harry continued to say nothing and Stella got the impression that Harry wasn't fond of Slughorn, either. Slughorn beamed.

"So modest, so modest, no wonder Dumbledore is so fond — you were there, then? But the rest of the stories — so sensational, of course, one doesn't know quite what to believe — this fabled prophecy, for instance —"

"We never heard a prophecy," said Neville, turning geranium pink as he said it.

"That's right," said Ginny staunchly. "Neville, Stella, and I were all there too, and all this 'Chosen One' rubbish is just the Prophet making things up as usual."

"You were all there too, were you?" said Slughorn with great interest, looking from Ginny to Neville, but both of them sat clam-like before his encouraging smile.

"We were," Stella's voice was still small and Harry released her hand to wrap his arm around her waist, pulling her close.

"Yes . . . well . . . it is true that the Prophet often exaggerates, of course. . . ." Slughorn said, sounding a little disappointed. "I remember dear Gwenog telling me (Gwenog Jones, I mean, of course, Captain of the Holyhead Harpies) —"

The afternoon wore on with more anecdotes about illustrious wizards Slughorn had taught, all of whom had been delighted to join what he called the "Slug Club" at Hogwarts. Stella could not wait to leave but couldn't see how to do so politely. So she thought 'Screw it' and decided to be rude.

"We should get back to our compartments," she interrupted Slughorn in the middle of some story that she hadn't been listening to. "We'll need to get our uniforms on."

"Good Gracious! It's already getting late! I didn't notice! Go, go! McLaggen, you must drop by and borrow that book on nogtails. Harry, Stella – any time you're passing. Same goes for you, miss. Off you go."

Stella didn't point out that he had failed to mention Neville, not wanting to embarrass Neville. Instead, they filed out of the compartment, all breathing a sigh of relief.

"I'm glad that's over," muttered Neville. "Strange man, isn't he?"

"Yeah, he is a bit," said Harry. "How come you ended up in there, Ginny?"

"He saw me hex Zacharias Smith," said Ginny. "You remember that idiot from Hufflepuff who was in the D.A.? He kept on and on asking about what happened at the Ministry and in the end he annoyed me so much I hexed him — when Slughorn came in I thought I was going to get detention, but he just thought it was a really good hex and invited me to lunch! Mad, eh?"

They were passing the Slytherins now and it was Stella being stared at now. She could see people whispering, pointing at her as she went. She was sure they must be talking about how she failed to protect Blaise and Theo just a few months ago, even without being able to hear them. If the others noticed, they said nothing, just kept trying to distract Stella.

She didn't listen to them though, continuing to walk down the corridor towards their compartment. Her head was held high and no emotions showed on her face. Theo would have been proud and Blaise would have smirked as he swaggered along beside her.

Pansy's face popped out of one of the compartments as she bought a licorice wand from the trolley. Her eyes landed on Stella as the trolley moved along and Stella froze. She may be able to pretend in front of others, but Pansy was rather good at seeing through people. It was something she both loved and hated about the girl. The others froze behind Stella and Daphne came out from behind Pansy, looking confused before she saw Stella as well.

"Come on," Neville told Stella, Harry having disappeared somehow.

Stella shook herself and continued walking. As they passed the compartment, Daphne scoffed and Pansy shushed her. Other Slytherins had their compartments open and had seen her coming.

"She let Zabini die…"

"Nott's still in the hospital…"

"Should be her…"

"How she can even show her face…"

"They were blood traitors anyways…"

"Good riddance…"

"Let's place bets on when Nott will finally bite it."

Giggles were heard after the last one and it took everything in Stella not to pull Blaise's wand from her hair and turn it on the fifth years that she had helped tutor since they'd started Hogwarts.

Stella and Neville reached their compartment, finding only Luna left in it. Stella sat quietly in her seat, staring out the window and saying nothing. Neville and Luna both tried talking to her but it was useless. Stella had pulled back into herself, refusing to acknowledge anything around her. Ron and Hermione rejoined them.

"Where's Harry?" Ron asked and Stella turned, not having even realized that Harry wasn't with them.

"Dunno," Neville shrugged. "He went under his cloak after lunch and we haven't seen him since."

"Stella's back, though," Luna offered.

"Oh, thank Merlin," Neville sighed. "I was worried when you just stopped talking to us."

"Sorry," she whispered to him.

"Don't listen to any of them, Stella," Neville told her.

"Any of who?" Hermione asked.

"Did someone upset you?" Ron demanded.

"Some of the Slytherins," Stella told him. "It's not important."

"It obviously is if it upset you," Ron shook his head.

"Just drop it, please? Let's find Harry."

"You need to change," Hermione told Stella.

"Right," Stella sighed.

While Stella and Luna changed into uniforms, Neville, Ron, and Hermione walked through the train, finding no sign of Harry.

"I hope he hasn't done anything too… Harry," Hermione sighed.

"Did you just use his name as a verb?" Stella smirked.

"Possibly," Hermione smiled softly.

"Nice," Stella nodded. "Let's get to the castle. I'll let Professor Snape know that he's missing."

"Why don't we tell Professor McGonagall?" Ron asked, seeming uneasy.

"Because Professor McGonagall has to sort out the first years," Stella sighed. "Let's go."

The five exited the train, walking towards the carriages. Stella froze once they saw the carriages. Large, winged black horses were visible. A shuttered breath left Stella as she just stared.

"Stella?" Neville asked softly.

"She can see them now," Luna explained to Neville before looking to Stella. "Come on, Stella. Let's get to Professor Snape."

Luna took Stella's hand gently, leading her to the carriage, which took off the moment they were all seated. Stella couldn't stop staring at them over Ron and Hermione's shoulders. As they stepped off the carriage, Stella ran her fingers gently over the Thestrals, remembering when Blaise had held her as they flew from the school to London, chuckling in her ear every time she felt her anxiety getting to her before calming her and telling her that he wouldn't let her fall, keeping her warm….

"Miss Black," Snape's voice broke through her thoughts and she turned to find him staring at her with soft eyes, Luna and Neville just behind him.

"I can see them now…" Stella whispered.

"Let's get you to the school," he told her, hand going to her shoulder. "Thank you, Miss Lovegood and Mister Longbottom. You may go."

The rest of the students were already almost gone. Stella took a few deep breathes before nodding to Snape and following him towards the school. A patronus that resembled a wolf appeared in front of them.

"I accept," Snape sighed, sounding annoyed.

"Hagrid, I've found Harry. He was on the train under his cloak. Looks like someone stunned him. On our way now. Meet you at the gate," Tonks's voice spoke.

"Why does Tonks's patronus look like a wolf?" Stella asked, voice flat.

"She has a thing for Remus," Snape grumbled, rolling his eyes.

"Is that jealousy, Professor?" Stella smirked.

"Am I to give you a detention before the opening feast has even begun this year, Black?" Snape asked.

"That's a yes to both our questions."

Snape and Stella both headed towards the gate, a lantern bobbing between the two of them. Stella could only see Tonks in the distance until they got a bit closer and Harry pulled his cloak off, revealing that he had just been hidden. Stella let out a relieved sigh.

"Well, well, well," sneered Snape, taking out his wand and tapping the padlock once, so that the chains snaked backward and the gates creaked open. "Nice of you to turn up, Potter, although you have evidently decided that the wearing of school robes would detract from your appearance."

Stella knew that Snape was peeved about Tonks's patronus but there was no need to be rude to Harry for it.

"I couldn't change, I didn't have my —" Harry began, but Snape cut across him.

"There is no need to wait, Nymphadora." Oh, he was very peeved. "Potter is quite — ah — safe in my hands."

"I meant Hagrid to get the message," said Tonks, frowning.

"Hagrid was late for the start-of-term feast, just like Potter here, who Miss Black had already come to me about, so I took it instead. And incidentally," said Snape, standing back to allow Harry to pass him, "I was interested to see your new Patronus."

He shut the gates in her face with a loud clang and tapped the chains with his wand again, so that they slithered, clinking, back into place.

"I think you were better off with the old one," said Snape, the malice in his voice unmistakable. "The new one looks weak."

Stella let her head fall back, biting her lip to keep in her groan of annoyance.

"Good night," Harry called to Tonks as they began walking. "Thanks for… everything."

"See you, Harry. Cousin."

"Cousin," Stella sighed.

Snape did not speak for a long moment and Harry was glaring at Snape's back with so much hatred that Stella was surprised he didn't burst into flame from accidental magic. Harry was holding Stella's hand tightly in his and she felt like it was the only thing that kept her moving when they passed the Thestrals again.

"Fifty points from Gryffindor for lateness, I think," said Snape. "And, let me see, another twenty for your Muggle attire. You know, I don't believe any House has ever been in negative figures this early in the term: We haven't even started pudding. You might have set a record, Potter."

Stella let her groan of annoyance out this time and Snape looked over his shoulder at her, eyes narrowed slightly.

"Another detention, Miss Black. That makes two before you've even reached the castle. Another record," he told her before addressing Harry again. "I suppose you wanted to make an entrance, did you? With no flying car available, you decided that bursting into the Great Hall halfway through the feast ought to create dramatic effect."

"Well we did learn from Sirius," Stella spoke up, feeling her heart twist a bit when she said her name.

Snape said nothing but Stella saw Harry smirk from beside her. They reached the castle steps at last and as the great oaken front doors swung open into the vast flagged entrance hall, a burst of talk and laughter and of tinkling plates and glasses greeted them through the doors standing open into the Great Hall. Stella wondered if the two could toss the cloak on and sneak to the Gryffindor table (which was the furthest from the entrance) so they wouldn't be noticed.

"No cloak. You can both walk to your tables so that everyone can see you, which is what you wanted, I'm sure."

"I think I'll just skip the feast," Stella decided, pulling Harry by the hand towards the kitchens.

"You will do no such thing," Snape spoke up, looking directly at her now. "You will appear weak if you skip or if you choose to eat with a house that is not your own."

Stella let out an annoyed groan and leaned into Harry for a moment before nodding to Snape. Stella pulled a wand out and tapped Harry's face, whispering a spell to clean the blood from his face. She also tossed her cloak onto him, not really caring that the Slytherin emblem was on it and was a few inches short. It covered Harry's Muggle clothes and she was still technically in uniform. They walked into the Great Hall, hand-in-hand.

The Great Hall, with its four long House tables and its staff table set at the top of the room, was decorated as usual with floating candles that made the plates below glitter and glow. People had turned to stare at them and Stella raised her chin. Harry kissed the top of her head before moving pass the Hufflepuff table to get to the Gryffindor table. Stella walked pass the Ravenclaws, walking over to the Slytherins. She could hear them whispering much the same thing she'd heard on the train. Instead of feeling a great sadness trying to swallow her whole, she felt anger rising inside, a hot blinding anger that made her intestines feel as if they were on fire.

She sat down without caring who she was beside. It didn't matter who she sat beside because the Slytherins beside and in front of her slid down the bench away from her quickly, as if afraid that they would be next. Dinner foods disappeared before Stella could even think to reach for anything, replaced by pudding. She added a bit to her plate, knowing she needed to eat at least something, sitting up straight and listening to the voices around her.

"She killed him…"

"Her fault…"

"Blood traitors…"

"Deserved what they got…"

"Orphan now…"

Giggling as they imagined different ways that Blaise and Sirius had died and Theo had been injured. Stella would not stand for it. She couldn't very well duel everyone in her house, though. No. She would need a plan. And more items from Fred and George. She was very thankful that she'd grabbed multiple mail order forms while in the shop. She'd promised trouble, was sister to the Weasley twins, Snape's favorite student, and the daughter of a Marauder. The Slytherins didn't stand a chance.

Dumbledore got to his feet and the noise around the hall died immediately. His hand looked worse than it had before, blackened and dead. Whispers broke out, this time not directed at her. Dumbledore merely smiled and shook his purple and gold sleeve over his injury.

"Nothing to worry about," he assured the students. "Now… to our new students, welcome. To our old students, welcome back. Another year full of magical education awaits you! Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to say that there is a blanket ban on joke items bought at the shop called Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes," Stella was glad she'd hidden the items in different boxes so they weren't recognizable. "Those wishing to play for their House Quidditch teams should give their names to the Heads of House as usual. We are also looking for new Quidditch commentators, who should do likewise.

"We are pleased to welcome a new member of staff this year. Professor Slughorn—" Slughorn stood up, his bald head gleaming in the candlelight, his big waistcoated belly casting the table below into shadow "—is a former colleague of mine who has agreed to resume his old post of Potions master."

Stella sat up impossibly straighter, eyes finding Snape immediately as a smile began to spread across her face. He had a slight smirk, eyes sweeping the room before landing on her. Her gave the smallest of nods and Stella got ready.

"Professor Snape, meanwhile," Dumbledore had to raise his voice to be heard over all the mutterings that had broken out, "will be taking over the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

Stella cheered loudly with the rest of the Slytherins, perhaps the loudest if she were being honest. Snape, who was sitting on Dumbledore's right, did not stand up at the mention of his name; he merely raised a hand in lazy acknowledgment of the applause from the Slytherin table, a look of triumph on his face.

Stella reached into her bag and set off a small box of fireworks, green and silver flying into the air and exploding spectacularly. Once the fireworks ended, Dumbledore cleared his throat, a small smile sent in Stella's direction.

"Now, as everybody in this Hall knows, Lord Voldemort and his followers are once more at large and gaining in strength," Stella's smile fell instantly, going back to a blank expression but catching Malfoy flinching slightly and reaching for his arm and making a fork float lazily in the air, as if trying to seem like he wasn't listening. "I cannot emphasize strongly enough how dangerous the present situation is, and how much care each of us at Hogwarts must take to ensure that we remain safe. The castle's magical fortifications have been strengthened over the summer, we are protected in new and more powerful ways, but we must still guard scrupulously against carelessness on the part of any student or member of staff.

"I urge you, therefore, to abide by any security restrictions that your teachers might impose upon you, however irksome you might find them — in particular, the rule that you are not to be out of bed after hours. I implore you, should you notice anything strange or suspicious within or outside the castle, to report it to a member of staff immediately. I trust you to conduct yourselves, always, with the utmost regard for your own and others' safety."

Dumbledore's blue eyes swept over the students before he smiled once more.

"But now, your beds await, as warm and comfortable as you could possibly wish, and I know that your top priority is to be well rested for your lessons tomorrow. Let us therefore say good night. Pip, pip!"

With the usual deafening scraping noise, the benches were moved back and the hundreds of students began to file out of the Great Hall toward their dormitories. Stella had a shield on her back and she was grateful for it as multiple Slytherins found it hilarious to shoot small jinxes at her and watch as they bounced off. She heard an angry mew and heard a few students scream before a weight landed on her shoulder.

Stella froze when she found Theo's cat, Jinx, on her shoulder. She let out a slow breath before reaching her hand up and scratching his chest before she continued through the dungeons. Someone gave the password ("Pureblood." "Most of us, anyway.") and Stella stepped into the common room. She looked around out of habit, searching for Blaise and Theo before she shook her head and moved to a corner with squishy arm chairs that she used to lay across Blaise and Theo on.

She took a seat, pulling Jinx into her lap and scratching behind his ears. He purred in her lap and Stella caught a glimpse of a fifth year girl glaring at her, a scratch across the back of her right hand. Stella guessed that the girl had tried sending a nastier hex at her and Jinx had decided that wouldn't do. Stella simply smirked and went back to the cat in her lap.

The first years stared at the lake in awe like they always did and Snape walked in, ready to give a speech before the fifth year ran over to him, the common room having already gone silent when Snape had entered the room.

"Sir! Black's cat attacked me!" she complained.

"Not my cat," Stella spoke up.

"Is that why it's purring in your lap?" one of the injured girl's friends asked.

"Jinx is Theo's cat," Stella stated, shutting the fifth years down rather quickly. "He must not have liked whatever hex you were trying to aim at my back."

"Enough," Snape said, his smooth voice not even raising as the room came to order.

Stella just stayed looking down at Jinx and petting him.

"Many of you will think it is a joke to attack your fellow housemate," Snape spoke up.

"Oh, he's taking Black's side again. Show of hands: who's surprised?" a seventh year asked.

"Unless you would like a months' worth of detention with Filch, you will be quiet while I speak," Snape glared at the crowd. "As I was saying, we need to seem united more than ever this year. The Dark Lord has risen and many will try to attack you for it. They will not care about your names or your status. They will see your green and silver robes and they will not think twice. Attacking each other will make you easier targets, especially the younger students.

"I will remind you that the student you are so happy to attack was the one protecting all of you just last year. You lost a classmate at the end of last year and the other is still in critical condition. I know you are all angry and have questions. You will direct questions to me and not harass your fellow housemate. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir," people answered, some more reluctantly than others.

"We will not be having dueling club this year. There is too much to do. I still expect you to help the younger students when you can, though. Do not let them become prey to the other houses. You will all hold yourselves with respect and act accordingly. I know that you will be targeted and it will be difficult to behave yourselves in those situations. When it happens, do not let them win."

Snape passed Stella the Quidditch schedule and swept out of the room. Stella pulled a self-inking quill from her bag and began taking the best spots on the list, Harry's name being the next one to appear, the two racing to take as many spots as they could before the other. She drew a face blowing a raspberry at Harry's name, using her wand to animate it, before putting the schedule away. A sign-up sheet was on the board and it was empty except for Crabbe and Goyle's names, so she sought them out immediately.

"You two are first line. You don't need to tryout," she informed them before looking to Malfoy. "You still on the team?"

"No," he rolled his eyes.

"Good," she rolled her eyes back before moving on.

She carried Jinx to her dorm room, the other sixth year girls already there. They all quieted when she entered the room but she paid them no mind. She placed Jinx on her bed and reached into her trunk, pulling out sleep shorts and one of Blaise's sweaters. She got ready for bed in the loo, walking back into the room to hear the whispering coming to a stop again. She laid on her bed, Jinx laying on her chest and purring as she stared up at the ceiling, curtain open.

"Go ahead," she told them. "Ask."

"What happened?" Pansy asked, voice soft as she stared at Stella.

"Harry thought that Voldemort had my… had my dad. I couldn't reach him with my ring. We ended up in the Department of Mysteries but it was a trap set up by Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange. Dad and a few others showed up to save us… I wasn't there when Theo… Hermione was there with Theo but don't go asking her about it. Bellatrix was dueling Sirius and I went to help, Blaise chased after me, got stunned, fell into dad, and they both fell through this… arch thing. They didn't come back out."

Stella's hands were shaking as she spoke. The edge of her bed dipped and Stella looked down to find Pansy sitting on the bed, eyes watching Stella knowingly.

"I'm so sorry, Stella," Pansy whispered.

Stella felt close to tears again but she refused to let anyone see.

"I'm tired," she lied before rolling to her side, facing away from everyone.

Jinx moved so he was lying beside her. Pansy stood from the bed and pulled the curtain closed around Stella's bed. There was a bit of whispering but eventually the girls fell asleep. It took a few hours, but Stella finally fell asleep.

Far too soon, Pansy was shaking Stella's shoulder gently, waking her. Stella groaned as she stood, stretching before getting ready for classes. Harry still had her cloak so she walked out of the common room, heading towards the Great Hall and hoping he'd brought it down for her. The ceiling of the Great Hall was serenely blue and streaked with frail, wispy clouds, just like the squares of sky visible through the high mullioned windows. Harry hadn't arrived yet so Stella sat at the Slytherin table, surprise crossing her features when Pansy and Daphne sat on either side of her.

"Stop looking so shocked," Daphne told her. "They were our friends, too."

After everyone ate, schedules were passed around and Stella saw Neville talking to McGonagall. She rushed over to them quickly.

"Herbology, fine," McGonagall was saying. "Professor Sprout will be delighted to see you back with an 'Outstanding' O.W.L. And you qualify for Defense Against the Dark Arts with 'Exceeds Expectations.' But the problem is Transfiguration. I'm sorry, Longbottom, but an Acceptable' really isn't good enough to continue to N.E.W.T level. I just don't think you'd be able to cope with the coursework."

"I'll tutor him," Stella spoke up. "I'll work with him as much as needed to keep his grade up."

McGonagall shook her head.

"That is not how it works Miss Black," she said before looking to Neville again. "Why do you want to continue with Transfiguration, anyway? I've never had the impression that you particularly enjoyed it."

Neville looked miserable and muttered something about "my grandmother wants."

"Hmph," snorted Professor McGonagall. "It's high time your grandmother learned to be proud of the grandson she's got, rather than the one she thinks she ought to have — particularly after what happened at the Ministry."

Neville turned very pink and blinked confusedly; Professor McGonagall had never paid him a compliment before.

"I'm sorry, Longbottom, but I cannot let you into my N.E.W.T. class. I see that you have an 'Exceeds Expectations' in Charms, however — why not try for a N.E.W.T. in Charms?"

"My grandmother thinks Charms is a soft option," mumbled Neville.

"Take Charms," said Professor McGonagall, "and I shall drop Augusta a line reminding her that just because she failed her Charms O.W.L., the subject is not necessarily worthless."

Smiling slightly at the look of delighted incredulity on Neville's face, Professor McGonagall tapped a blank schedule with the tip of her wand and handed it back, now carrying details of his new classes, to Neville. Stella bumped Neville's arm gently with her own, giving him a smile.

"What are you doing here?" a snide voice asked and Stella turned to find a Gryffindor she didn't know glaring at her. "Slytherins shouldn't be over here. They should stay with the other Death Eaters."

"Here's your cloak, Stell," Harry interrupted, putting Stella's cloak on her shoulders and buttoning it for her. "Thanks for last night."

"Of course," Stella smiled at him. "I'm always up for saving 'The Chosen One'. Helps my ego."

"Because you need an ego boost," Ron rolled his eyes with a fond smile.

"Ouch," Stella joked. "Words hurt, brother."

"Wait," the rude underclassman spoke up. "Brother? And Harry Potter?"

"Yes," Stella rolled her eyes. "Run along, now. Don't you have a feather to float or a needle to turn into a matchstick?"

"What do you have first?" Harry asked her.

"I have to get to Ancient Runes," Stella sighed before kissing Harry's cheek and turning to run off. "See you later!"

Stella fell into a seat in Defense.

"What's wrong with you?" Ron asked.

"We got so much homework for Runes," she explained, groaning as she rested her head on Ron's shoulder. "A fifteen-inch essay, two translations, and reading. Luckily, I already did the reading."

"Shame," Ron yawned.

"I hope Snape gives only Gryffindors homework," Stella crossed her arms over her chest, sitting up now.

Snape had imposed his personality upon the room already; it was gloomier than usual, as curtains had been drawn over the windows, and was lit by candlelight. New pictures adorned the walls, many of them showing people who appeared to be in pain, sporting grisly injuries or strangely contorted body parts. Nobody spoke as they settled down, looking around at the shadowy, gruesome pictures.

"I have not asked you to take out your books," said Snape, closing the door and moving to face the class from behind his desk; Hermione hastily dropped her copy of Confronting the Faceless back into her bag and stowed it under her chair. "I wish to speak to you, and I want your fullest attention."

His black eyes roved over their upturned faces, lingering for a fraction of a second longer on Harry's than anyone else's. "You have had five teachers in this subject so far, I believe."

'Including your boyfriend,' Stella thought to herself, having to bite her lip to keep from smirking.

"Naturally, these teachers will all have had their own methods and priorities. Given this confusion I am surprised so many of you scraped an O.W.L. in this subject. I shall be even more surprised if all of you manage to keep up with the N.E.W.T. work, which will be much more advanced."

Snape set off around the edge of the room, speaking now in a lower voice; the class craned their necks to keep him in view.

"The Dark Arts," said Snape, "are many, varied, ever-changing, and eternal. Fighting them is like fighting a many-headed monster, which, each time a neck is severed, sprouts a head even fiercer and cleverer than before. You are fighting that which is unfixed, mutating, indestructible."

Stella made a note to write Uncle Moony and tell him how dramatic his boyfriend was.

"Your defenses," said Snape, a little louder, "must therefore be as flexible and inventive as the arts you seek to undo. These pictures" — he indicated a few of them as he swept past — "give a fair representation of what happens to those who suffer, for instance, the Cruciatus Curse" — he waved a hand toward a witch who was clearly shrieking in agony — "feel the Dementor's Kiss" — a wizard lying huddled and blank-eyed, slumped against a wall — "or provoke the aggression of the Inferius" — a bloody mass upon the ground.

"Has an Inferius been seen, then?" said Parvati Patil in a high pitched voice. "Is it definite, is he using them?"

"The Dark Lord has used Inferi in the past," said Snape, "which means you would be well-advised to assume he might use them again. Now . . ." He set off again around the other side of the classroom toward his desk, and again, they watched him as he walked, his dark robes billowing behind him. ". . . you are, I believe, complete novices in the use of nonverbal spells. What is the advantage of a nonverbal spell?"

Stella and Hermione both raised their hands. No one was surprised when Snape called on Stella.

"It takes less time to think a spell than say it. It also means that your opponent won't know for sure what you're shooting at them," Stella stated.

"Ten points to Slytherin," Snape nodded, again to no one's surprise. "Not all wizards can do this, of course; it is a question of concentration and mind power which some" — his gaze lingered maliciously upon Harry once more — "lack.

"You will now divide," Snape went on, "into pairs. One partner will attempt to jinx the other without speaking. The other will attempt to repel the jinx in equal silence. Carry on."

Stella grabbed Neville immediately. He whispered a disarming spell and Stella blocked it without a single word uttered, already having mastered nonverbal magic.

"Twenty points to Slytherin, Miss Black," Snape said as he strode through the room and Stella smirked before shrugging to Neville when he stared at her in awe.

She approached Neville rather than standing across from him.

"So, what you'll want to do it think the spell very loudly as you do the movements. It's just like doing it verbally but it takes a bit more concentration," Stella explained.

"I'm already concentrating, Stella," Neville complained.

"You can do this, Nev," Stella told him. "It'll take time and practice, but I know you can do it."

"Miss Black, pair with Miss Granger. Maybe the two of you will be on even footing for once," Snape commanded, sounding rather bored.

Stella and Hermione smirked at one another. That was as close to a compliment Hermione was ever going to get from Snape, holding her at the same standards as his favorite student. Before they could actually start though, Snape rounded on Harry and Ron, who was purple in the face trying to jinx Harry without speaking.

"Pathetic, Weasley," said Snape. "Here — let me show you —"

He turned his wand on Harry so fast that Harry reacted instinctively; all thought of nonverbal spells forgotten, he yelled, "Protego!"

His Shield Charm was so strong Snape was knocked off-balance and hit a desk. The whole class had looked around and now watched as Snape righted himself, scowling.

"Do you remember me telling you we are practicing nonverbal spells, Potter?"

"Yes," said Harry stiffly.

"Yes, sir."

"There's no need to call me 'sir,' Professor."

The words had escaped him before he knew what he was saying. Several people gasped, including Hermione. Behind Snape, however, Ron, Dean, and Seamus grinned appreciatively. Stella had to bite her lip hard and look away to keep from laughing, though she caught Harry's smirk at her reaction.

"Detention, Saturday night, my office," said Snape. "I do not take cheek from anyone, Potter . . . not even 'the Chosen One.' "

"He takes it from you all the time," Hermione complained.

"Yeah, but I'm me," Stella shrugged. "Shall we?"

"Ooh, yes!" Hermione was excited now as they turned to face one another.

Hermione shot a Jelly-Legs jinx at Stella and she flicked it away like it was simply a pesty bug. She tried disarming Hermione, but the spell simply bounced off her shield. They kept shooting spells back and forth and both of their competitive sides were coming out. Soon the two were straight up dueling, moving around each other. Stella had turned Hermione's knee backwards at some point but Hermione was tough and she kept moving around. The whole class had stopped and was watching as they silently fought, Snape's brow raised.

Stella was playing with Hermione, knowing she could end it fairly easily but, for the first time in a while, Stella was actually enjoying herself. She smiled and Hermione seemed annoyed by it.

"Impedimenta," Hermione said out loud and Stella stepped out of the way of the spell.

"Stupefy," Stella said but actually cast an Incarcerous.

Black robes wrapped around Hermione and she gasped as Seamus caught her.

"Twenty more points for Slytherin," Snape stated. "Another upside to nonverbal casting is that you can trick your opponent into thinking that you're casting a harmless spell when you actually have a darker one flying towards them."

"We should do that more often," Stella told Hermione as she released her from the ropes. "That was actually quite fun."

"Fun?" Hermione asked. "That was fun for you?"

"Well, yeah," Stella shrugged. "Come on, Hermione. You at least had a little bit of fun, didn't you?"

"… it was nice having someone to duel with," Hermione admitted after a moment.

"Mhmm," Stella nodded as they all left the classroom.

"That was brilliant, Harry!" chortled Ron, once they were safely on their way to break a short while later.

"You really shouldn't have said it," said Hermione, frowning at Harry. "What made you?"

"He tried to jinx me, in case you didn't notice!" fumed Harry. "I had enough of that during those Occlumency lessons! Why doesn't he use another guinea pig for a change? What's Dumbledore playing at, anyway, letting him teach Defense? Did you hear him talking about the Dark Arts? He loves them! All that unfixed, indestructible stuff —"

"Well," said Hermione, "I thought he sounded a bit like you."

"Like me?"

"Yes, when you were telling us what it's like to face Voldemort. You said it wasn't just memorizing a bunch of spells, you said it was just you and your brains and your guts — well, wasn't that what Snape was saying? That it really comes down to being brave and quick-thinking?"

"I'll see you all later," Stella sighed as Pansy grabbed Stella's arm and pulling her away.

"Since when are they friends?" Stella heard Ron ask but Stella had already been pulled along towards the dungeons.

"You have potions, yes?" Pansy asked.

"Yeah," Stella nodded.

"It's just us and Draco, then," Pansy told her. "He isn't actually speaking to anyone lately, though, so you're partnering with me."

"Alright then," Stella nodded.

The dungeon door opened and Slughorn's belly proceeded him out the door. Stella had completely forgotten that he would be teaching this class and was no longer looking forward to it. He greeted Stella and Harry with particular enthusiasm and Stella wanted to hide behind Pansy to escape him.

The dungeon was, most unusually, already full of vapors and odd smells. Stella and Pansy took a table at the front, Draco sitting on Stella's right, to which she gave a strange look before shrugging. The four Ravenclaws sat together and Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat with the only Hufflepuff, Ernie. Stella smelt something in the air that was woodsy like a broom, musky like Theo and Blaise's colognes, honeysuckle from the Burrow, and, for some reason, Harry. The cologne's made her breath catch and she looked around the room, eyes wide as Pansy and Draco watched her in confusion. Her eyes landed on the Amortentia and she scrawled.

"What is that smell?" Pansy asked, sinking in her seat a bit as Slughorn passed them.

"Amortentia," Stella growled out, teeth grinding together.

"Correct, Miss Black!" Slughorn smiled brightly. "Can you tell me what Amortentia is?"

Everyone was staring at her now and Stella, for once, did not want to answer a potions question.

"It's classified as a love potion," she said slowly.

"Very good! I'm guessing you recognized it, I suppose, by its distinctive mother-of-pearl sheen?"

"And the steam rising out in spirals and the smell…"

"What do you smell?" he asked curiously.

Stella didn't want to answer a potion's question for the first time ever but Slughorn had already called her out.

"Honeysuckle, my broom, a cologne, and…"

"And?"

"And nothing," Stella shook her head, eyes darting to Harry for a second and causing his eyes to widen.

"Ten points to Slytherin! Now then, now then, now then," said Slughorn, whose massive outline was quivering through the many shimmering vapors. "Scales out, everyone, and potion kits, and don't forget your copies of Advanced Potion-Making. . . ."

"Sir?" said Harry, raising his hand.

"Harry, m'boy?"

"I haven't got a book or scales or anything — nor's Ron — we didn't realize we'd be able to do the N.E.W.T., you see —"

"Ah, yes, Professor McGonagall did mention . . . not to worry, my dear boy, not to worry at all. You can use ingredients from the store cupboard today, and I'm sure we can lend you some scales, and we've got a small stock of old books here, they'll do until you can write to Flourish and Blotts. . . ."

Slughorn strode over to a corner cupboard and, after a moment's foraging, emerged with two very battered-looking copies of Advanced Potion-Making by Libatius Borage, which he gave to Harry and Ron along with two sets of tarnished scales.

"Now then," said Slughorn, returning to the front of the class and inflating his already bulging chest so that the buttons on his waistcoat threatened to burst off, "As you've noticed, I've prepared a few potions for you to have a look at, just out of interest, you know. These are the kind of thing you ought to be able to make after completing your N.E.W.T.s. You ought to have heard of 'em, even if you haven't made 'em yet. Anyone tell me what this one is?"

He indicated the cauldron nearest the Slytherin table. Hermione raised her hand and Stella leaned back in her seat, not wanting to answer questions anymore.

"It's Veritaserum, a colorless, odorless potion that forces the drinker to tell the truth," said Hermione.

"Very good, very good!" said Slughorn happily. "Now," he continued, pointing at the cauldron nearest the Ravenclaw table, "this one here is pretty well known. . . . Featured in a few Ministry leaflets lately too . . . Who can — ?"

Hermione again.

"It's Polyjuice Potion, sir," she said.

"May I ask your name, my dear?" Slughorn asked.

"Hermione Granger, sir."

"Granger? Granger? Can you possibly be related to Hector Dagworth-Granger, who founded the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers?"

"No, I don't think so, sir. I'm Muggle-born, you see."

"Oho! 'One of our best friends is Muggle-born, and she's top two in our year!' I'm assuming this is the very friend of whom you both spoke of, Harry, Stella?"

"Yes, sir," they answered together.

"Well, well, take twenty well-earned points for Gryffindor, Miss Granger," said Slughorn genially. "And now it is time for us to start work."

Stella raised her hand and everyone looked to her.

"Yes, Miss Black?"

"You didn't ask us about the Felix Felicis," she pointed out.

"Oho," Slughorn smiled and Stella got the idea that it was on purpose. "Yes. I'm assuming you know what it does?"

"It's liquid luck. I believe it's two tablespoons for a full days' worth? If taken too often it can cause extremely reckless behavior."

"Correct, Miss Black! Ten more points!" Slughorn looked dreamily at the cauldron. "And that is what I shall be offering as a prize in this lesson."

There was silence in which every bubble and gurgle of the surrounding potions seemed magnified tenfold.

"One tiny bottle of Felix Felicis," said Slughorn, taking a minuscule glass bottle with a cork in it out of his pocket and showing it to them all. "Enough for twelve hours' luck. From dawn till dusk, you will be lucky in everything you attempt.

"Now, I must give you warning that Felix Felicis is a banned substance in organized competitions . . . sporting events, for instance, examinations, or elections. So the winner is to use it on an ordinary day only . . . and watch how that ordinary day becomes extraordinary!

"So," said Slughorn, suddenly brisk, "how are you to win my fabulous prize? Well, by turning to page ten of Advanced Potion Making. We have a little over an hour left to us, which should be time for you to make a decent attempt at the Draught of Living Death. I know it is more complex than anything you have attempted before, and I do not expect a perfect potion from anybody. The person who does best, however, will win little Felix here. Off you go!"

Stella didn't even open her book. She knew the best ways to make Draught of Living Death. Snape had tutored her over the summer and she realized then that he must have known he would be teaching Defense before Slughorn had even been asked to return.

Stella cut her roots thinly then crushed her sopophorous bean with the flat end of her knife.

"Sir, I think you knew my grandfather, Abraxas Malfoy?"

Stella glanced up but continued working.

"Yes," said Slughorn, without looking at Malfoy, "I was sorry to hear he had died, although of course it wasn't unexpected, dragon pox at his age. . . ."

Her potion was lilac and she began the stirring patterns, adding a clockwise stir every seventh turn, causing the potion to turn pale pink. Stella's potion was done and she raised her hand, Slughorn walking over and smiling down at it.

"And without even cracking open your book!" he said excitedly. "Well done! Time's up all!"

Stella looked over and saw Harry's potions which was the same color as hers. Her eyes widened and she looked to Harry, giving him a proud smile.

"Well, Mister Potter, your potion is also perfect. Did you use your book?"

"Yes, sir," Harry admitted.

"I believe the clear winner is Miss Black then! Twenty points to Gryffindor for your potion though, Mister Potter."

Stella took the vial, smiling proudly. She couldn't wait to tell Snape and see his shocked face when she told him Harry had made a perfect potion as well. Stella could have skipped out of the room as she headed to Snape's office for her detention, potion still in her pocket as she didn't trust the other Slytherins to not steal it.

"Hello, sir," Stella smiled ruefully. "I have a story for you and you're going to hate it… Oh!"

"Stella!" Remus yelled, face red as he and Snape jumped apart.

"Uncle Moony," Stella smirked. "When did you get here?"

"A few minutes ago," he shrugged, scratching the back of his head and unable to look in her eyes.

"Mhmm," she hummed before looking to Snape to find him with more color on his face than she'd ever seen before. "My detention?"

"We can forget this one," Snape stated and Stella let out a loud laugh, causing Snape to glare at her.

"Uh huh," she nodded, still chuckling slightly. "Sure, sir. See you tomorrow."

Stella went up to Gryffindor tower, checking the map for the password before walking in. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were by the fire, Hermione looking rather put out. Stella fell backwards over the couch, upside down between Harry and Ron.

"Hello, all," she smiled before handing the potion to Harry. "Here. For your first perfect potion."

"He didn't earn it," Hermione scoffed. "I doubt you did, either."

"Are you still mad that I'm better at potions than you?" Stella rolled her eyes.

"Stella, are you sure?" Harry asked, eyes wide.

"Of course," she nodded.

"His potions book is covered in notes!" Hermione complained.

"So are all of Ginny's," Stella shrugged. "She gets all of my books. It's part of why she's top of her class. That and, well, Gin is just brilliant."

"Here," Harry said, passing the book to her. "Hermione is convinced it's evil."

"Specialis Revelio," Stella cast.

"I did that already," Hermione complained.

Stella opened the book and smirked at the handwriting. Harry would not be using this book if he knew.

"Can I make a copy of this?" Stella asked. "I can look through the copy and tell you if there's anything you shouldn't do. Will that make you feel better, Mione?"

"… yes it would."

"Harry?"

"Go for it."

Stella made a copy and passed Harry the original back. She'd do as she said she would but she felt rather accomplished. Two things to make fun of Snape with within a few hours of each other? Dreams really did come true.

Stella ran to Defense early, letting herself in, much to Snape's annoyance.

"I didn't get to congratulate you yet, sir," she told him, catching her breath.

"And you had to run in here to do that?"

"That and to tell you things you aren't going to like," she shrugged.

Snape sighed and waved at Stella, telling her to proceed.

"Harry is suddenly great as potions. Almost as good as me, in fact."

"What?" Snape asked, confused.

"Well, you see sir, Harry didn't have a potions book because he didn't' think he'd be able to take the subject. Slughorn takes Exceeds Expectations students, though. He and Ron were given old books to use until their new ones come in. Turns out a student left their book behind like twenty years ago and they were exemplary potions student. Whole thing is covered in notes and useful tips. The hand writing just looks so familiar…"

"Damn it!" Snape cursed, catching on.

"Sir!" Stella laughed.

"He has my old book?"

"Has no clue it's yours," Stella told him. "If he did, I doubt he'd continue to use it."

Snape let out an annoyed groan and rubbed his face harshly.

"May I use one of my questions, sir?"

"Might as well."

"The Half-Blood Prince? Really, sir? Bit full of yourself there," Stella smirked.

"Detention."

"That's against the rules," Stella pointed out.

"Fine, he said through grit teeth. "My mother's maiden name was Prince."

"Was?" Stella asked, her smile falling away.

"She died when I was in my sixth year…"

"I'm sorry, sir…"

Students began filing into the classroom and Stella went to her seat, her and Snape both pretending that they didn't share the loss of parents in common. Saturday afternoon, Stella was on the Quidditch pitch with Crabbe, Goyle, Baker, O'Connor, Keeny, and Walsh, the seven flying around and tossing the ball back and forth. They were the only ones to have shown up and Stella had made them all first line, not that she would have actually chosen anyone else. They were the better players honestly. All six of the boys actually wanted to play professionally one day and Stella was already debating if she should make Baker captain after she graduated next year.

They played a practice game, Baker goalie for both teams as they only used half the field. Crabbe was beater for Stella and O'Connor and Goyle was beater for Keeny and Walsh. The seven trained hard together for the next several hours, score not being kept, mostly because Baker blocked so many shots. He really was just unbelievably talented. After practice, the seven walked towards the school, smiling with one another as they went.

"Well, well, well," six seventh year Ravenclaws stepped in their way, the one in the center speaking. "What do we have here?"

Crabbe and Goyle stepped to the front as Stella put herself in front of Baker, the youngest of the group.

"Looks like a few little Death Eaters in training," one of them smirked.

"Well, we can't have that, now can we?" the leader smirked, his wand sliding into his hand, the others following suit.

Spells began to fly and Stella told Baker to run, giving him cover as he went to find Snape. Stella had two wands in her hands and she was fighting hard. Crabbe and O'Connor were down already and Goyle looked like he was one good hex away from it as well. Stella jumped in front of him, blocking the spell that was heading towards him while sending another one under her shield.

"Cover Crabbe and O'Connor," Stella told Goyle as she rushed forward, surprising one of the Ravenclaws when she punched him in the face instead of throwing a spell, breaking his nose.

She got three more spells out before she felt herself being thrown backwards. Goyle ended up catching her with a cushioning charm on the ground behind her. Stella bounced once, throwing a spell before she hit the ground again. Goyle yelled and rushed forward, tackling the Ravenclaw that had attacked Stella behind her back. Stella's eyes grew before she ran after him, tackling the girl that had gone to jump on Goyle's back.

The two rolled across the grass and Stella landed on top, raining punches down on the girl's face. She didn't stop until the girl was out cold, face bloodied from her family ring and bruises already forming. Stella stood, breathing heavily before she turned to see Goyle having done the same.

"What is the meaning of this?" McGonagall's voice demanded as she rushed over. "Miss Black, Mister Goyle, what?"

She seemed too shocked to say anything. There were six older students on the ground, four of them knocked out by magic and two almost unrecognizable. Crabbe was out cold but O'Connor had just woken up, seeming extremely confused. Keeny and Walsh had their wands out, pointed at the Ravenclaws in case they tried anything else. Baker returned then, Snape running behind him.

"Stella!" Baker yelled, rushing to her and his arms wrapping around her waist in a tight hug.

"Good job, kid," Stella whispered to him, still breathing heavily, blood dripping from her lip and feeling a few different bruises on her body.

"What?" McGonagall was still shocked.

"I've got it Minerva," Snape tried but McGonagall came out of her shock then.

"Absolutely not! You will let them get away with brawling with other students!"

"I am taking them all to the hospital wing and then to the Headmaster," Snape corrected her. "Mister Baker came to find me when the fight began. I'm sure a pensieve will help us decide appropriate punishments."

Stretchers appeared under the knocked out students and O'Connor, who still seemed confused, probably a concussion. Stella began limping after them when Goyle walked over and lifted her into his arms, carrying her bridal style instead. Stella turned red for a moment before shrugging. They passed students as they went and Stella tried not to be embarrassed at being carried but it was rather difficult.

She thought about how Blaise used to hold her back with a hand on her leg or shoulder and how Theo would physically carry her from a fight, making it so she could only yell at people over his shoulder. Here was Goyle, who watched her break someone's nose and tackle someone before leaving the Black family crest imbedded in their face. The differences were screaming at her, red flags appearing in her head.

In the Hospital Wing, Madam Pomfrey let out a gasp of shock before she got to work, going to the two that Goyle and Stella had gone after first. Goyle placed Stella on a bed gently before going to the end of her bed and standing guard. Dumbledore rushed in with Flitwick a minute later and Stella tried to make herself look smaller, having no success at doing so as Dumbledore's eyes found her quickly.

"Miss Black, would you like to tell me your account of the events?"

"We were coming back from practice and those six stopped us, called us Death Eaters in training. They threw the first spell. I told Noah Baker to run and gave him cover as he went to get Professor Snape," Stella answered honestly.

"What happened to Miss Thacher's and Mister Holdings' faces?" Flitwick demanded.

"Oh, is that their names? Holdings threw me with a spell so Goyle had a go at him. Thacher tried to attack Goyle from behind so I tackled her. I think Muggle brawling is a good form of wandless magic."

"Black," Snape growled.

"Sorry, sir," Stella flinched. "Sarcasm and bad jokes are a coping mechanism."

Snape pulled Stella's hand into his own, looking at her knuckles for a moment before tapping her hand with his wand, sewing the cuts back together and clearing away the blood. He put bruise balm on her hand before moving to Goyle and doing the same to his fists.

Pomfrey finally made it to Stella, waving her wand to produce a diagnostics charm. She tutted unhappily before she got to work, muttering under her breath the entire time.

"Broken ankle, bruised ribs, bump on the head…"

Stella was handed two potions before being told to lay down, closing her eyes and falling asleep due to one of the pain potions. Stella woke in the middle of the night, complete darkness surrounding her. She sat up slowly, seeing the Ravenclaws and the majority of her team in beds around her. She wondered why she'd woken up when she heard it.

"Stell," Harry's voice whispered and Stella looked around in confusion before realization dawned on her.

"Harry, I can't see you," she whispered.

"Oh," Harry removed the cloak, "sorry. Forgot."

"That thing is basically a part of you," Stella let out a quiet laugh. "What are you doing here?"

She scooted over in the bed, pulling Harry's arm so he laid beside her. They were laying on their sides, whispering back and forth, Stella telling Harry what had happened.

"And Goyle ran at the guy?"

"He caught me, too," Stella nodded.

"Weird."

"Thanks," Stella told him with a nod and a quiet laugh.

"I don't mean it like that," Harry assured her. "It's just weird. I mean, how many times have you and Goyle actually interacted with one another?"

"Not very," Stella admitted. "Just Quidditch, really. I used to help him with homework quite a bit."

Harry seemed thoughtful, thinking rather hard about something.

"Is this about Malfoy and your theory again?" Stella asked him.

"I know you probably think it's stupid. Ron and Hermione do."

"I'll see what I can find," Stella told him.

"Really?" Harry asked, eyes wide.

"Really," Stella nodded. "It might not happen very quickly though, so be patient with me. Pansy said Malfoy isn't really talking to anyone anymore so it'll take some time."

"Of course," Harry nodded. "Thank you, Stella."

"Of course," Stella smiled to him.

"I should let you get some sleep…"

"Will you stay?" Stella asked him.

"Yeah," Harry nodded, seeming nervous suddenly.

"You don't have to if you don't want to," Stella told him.

"I want to," he insisted quickly. "I do."

"Okay," Stella nodded.

"Okay."

Harry moved to his back, pulling Stella closer to him. She rested her head over his heart, the steady thumping lulling her back into sleep. Stella woke as Harry snuck out of the bed, morning light pouring into the room. He kissed her head and pulled the cloak on, sneaking out of the Hospital Wing to get back to his tower. Stella sat up again, looking out at the Slytherins as Madam Pomfrey began moving around in her office. The Slytherins and four of the Ravenclaws were released after breakfast, the Slytherins going first. The boys surrounded Stella as they walked through the halls, heading towards the common room. Stella was thankful that it was Sunday, meaning less students would be in the halls. It saved her from more of the strange looks that they were receiving.

The group was applauded when they walked in. Stella didn't feel like being applauded though and went to her dorm, deciding to change into jeans and a thin shirt before taking a walk around the grounds, hair up with Blaise's and Sirius's wands sticking out of her messy bun, her own wand in her front pocket. She ran into Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"Oh, hi," she smiled, feeling shy suddenly.

"Where are you heading?" Harry asked her.

"I was just going to get some air," she admitted. "Common room is a bit too bipolar for me right now."

"Sure you aren't trying to see the Gryffindor tryouts?" Ron smirked.

"I forgot those were today," Stella admitted. "I won't go near the pitch."

"You can come," Harry spoke up quickly.

"Harry, we're captains of opposing teams," Stella smirked.

"I know who's on your team and how they play. It's fine. Hermione needs company anyways."

"Fine," Stella sighed, following the three out. "Don't get mad when I learn all your strategies, though."

"Honestly, I could probably use your help," he sighed.

"You'll do great," Stella assured him. "You're a great player and we already know that you're a great teacher."

A misty drizzle had begun and Stella put heating spells on all four of them before Harry handed her his glasses so she could make it so water bounced off of them if the rain picked up more. She kissed his cheek before following Hermione into the stands. Half of Gryffindor house had shown up and Stella knew that most of them weren't there to tryout. She got stares and pointed at quite a bit but she watched the field, ignoring everyone.

"How do you do that?" Hermione asked in a whisper.

"Do what?" Stella asked in confusion.

"Ignore everyone when they're talking about you, as if you can't hear them?"

"I'm not ignoring them," Stella admitted. "I know what people say about me, Mione. They've been saying it for years. I've grown used to it. There's a difference."

Hermione gave her a sad look as Stella turned back to the field. Ten first years were sent away quickly, followed by ten girls, who were giggling the entire time. One of them, the pretty brunette from the train, glared at Stella as she passed her. The third group had a pileup halfway around the pitch. Most of the fourth group came without broomsticks. The fifth group were Hufflepuffs.

"If there's anyone else here who's not from Gryffindor," roared Harry, who sounded seriously annoyed, "leave now, please!"

There was a pause, then a couple of little Ravenclaws went sprinting off the pitch, snorting with laughter. Stella stood.

"Not you!" Harry yelled and Stella looked to him, feeling a bit chastised as she sat back down.

They two gave each other amused smiles and Harry turned back to everyone that was trying out. Romilda Vane glared harder. After two hours, many complaints, and several tantrums, one involving a crashed Comet Two Sixty and several broken teeth, Harry had found himself three Chasers: Katie Bell, returned to the team after an excellent trial; a new find called Demelza Robins, who was particularly good at dodging Bludgers; and Ginny, who had outflown all the competition and scored seventeen goals to boot. Pleased though he was with his choices, Harry had also shouted himself hoarse at the many complainers and was now enduring a similar battle with the rejected Beaters.

Stella let out an annoyed sigh and stood. She summoned her broom and took to the air, getting to Harry's side quickly. Stella pulled a small pouch from her pocket where she kept a bit of first aid; her calming draughts, pain potions, and an allergy potion included. She passed Harry a potion for his throat, which he took without question.

"Need help?" she asked him. "I swear not to sabotage you."

"Please," Harry sighed.

"Okay, well I can tell you right now that those five are not going to work as beaters. They have no upper body strength."

"Oi! You five!"

Harry immediately listened to Stella's advice. She was honest and told him how she'd picked her team the year before and Harry nodded, sending away any second year on the field for now. Stella flew back over to Hermione, hovering close by and watching from her broom.

"I don't think you're supposed to be helping him choose the team you'll be playing against," Hermione smirked.

"I wanna beat the best," Stella shrugged. "Gryffindor actually has some impressive players."

Harry ended up choosing a third year who had given him a bump on the back of his head with a bludger, Stella healing the bump quickly, and a fourth year who looked a bit small but he aimed well. Keeper tryouts were last and the stands were more full than when Harry had begun. Ron looked a bit green and Stella passed him a potion for his nerves as McLaggen took his turn. He gave her a grateful look after taking it and she gave him a pat on the back, telling him to just breath and have fun.

"Good luck!" cried a voice from the stands on Ron's turn.

Stella looked over to Lavendar Brown and smirked. She and Hermione shared an amused look before watching Ron fly into the air, Stella having taken a seat again, her broom beside her. Ron saved five goals and McLaggen was pissed. He rushed towards Harry from where he now stood on the ground and Stella jumped on her broom, flying down quickly as Harry stepped back.

"His sister didn't really try," said McLaggen menacingly. There was a vein pulsing in his temple. "She gave him an easy save."

"Rubbish," said Harry coldly. "That was the one he nearly missed."

McLaggen took a step nearer Harry, who stood his ground this time.

"Give me another go."

"No," said Harry. "You've had your go. You saved four. Ron saved five. Ron's Keeper, he won it fair and square. Get out of my way."

"I'd hate to have to send more people to the hospital wing this weekend," Stella spoke up, spinning her wand between her fingers.

McLaggen glared at Stella and then cast one more dark look at Harry before walking away, growling what sounded like threats to thin air. Harry turned around to find his new team beaming at him.

"Well done," he told them. "You flew really well—"

"You did brilliantly, Ron!" Hermione smiled, running onto the field.

Stella pulled the schedule from Harry's pocket so he could check when their first practice was. She flew into the air as everyone else went their separate ways, just hovering in the air above everything. She could see a dark figure heading towards the pitch and rolled her eyes before flying towards him.

"Hi, sir," she greeted. "I'm guessing you're here to tell me my punishment?"

"Detention for the next week," he told her. "Seems like you really were just defending yourself but still. Duels and brawls are both against school rules."

"Of course, sir," Stella nodded.

"What are you doing out here?"

"Watching Gryffindor tryouts," Stella shrugged.

"Don't know why I'm surprised."

"Is Uncle Moony still here?" she asked curiously.

"No. He simply came for a quick meeting with the headmaster," Snape sniffed.

"Is that what I saw?" Stella smirked.

"Is that one of your questions or are you receiving another detention?"

"How did the two of you start?" Stella asked curiously.

"A girl named Lily Evans and I were best friends before starting at Hogwarts. She was sorted into a different house than I but we still found time to study together. She became friends with Lupin and he started studying with us. We began speaking when he wasn't around his… friends. It was tentative at the start but we were together from second to fifth year. Lily was the only other person who knew of our relationship. Covered for us a few times as well."

"Lily Evans… Potter?"

"Potter's mother," Snape nodded.

"Huh," Stella nodded, looking Snape over a bit. "Another question."

"Go on."

"You're more pale lately. Any idea what's causing it?"

"I am a spy in an ongoing war while maintaining a highly stressful teaching job where I am forced to keep mouthy teenagers from killing one another, Head of a House, oversee detentions, even on my days off, brew potions for the hospital wing, and… I have poor genetics."

"… why isn't Slughorn helping make the potions?"

"Horace Slughorn prefers to teach and nothing else," Snape explained.

"I don't like him," Stella sighed.

"I didn't think that you would, honestly. You are not one to associate with people who think they're better than others."

"Thank you?"

"You're welcome."

"I can help with the potions," Stella told him. "I'll go put my broom away and we can go to the brewing room."

"… That would be most helpful."

Stella flew off quickly, putting her broom away before running back to Snape. The two swept back into the castle, going straight to the third floor. The Hospital Wing had its very own brewing room and Stella had never actually been in it before. It was darker than the hospital wing, most potions ingredient needing to be kept in dark places to keep them from expiring quicker. There were ten work stations with cauldrons and their own sinks.

Snape told her the potions they were low on and Stella got to work, taking over three stations at once. Snape sat at a desk that was there, looking beyond tired. She brewed basic pain relief, cure for the common cold, and an allergy relief, all three likely to be needed soon. Two hours later, she waved her wand and potions portioned into vials, labeled themselves, and flew to the cabinets, organizing themselves. Stella sent the cauldrons to clean themselves and turned, finding Snape asleep with his head laid down on the desk.

"Sir?" she asked softly, shaking his shoulder gently.

Snape sat up quickly, taking a deep breath and looking around.

"Let's get you back to your quarters," she told him, summoning a dreamless sleep to herself and passing it to him to take once he was in his room.

Stella walked down to the dungeons alone, feeling like she'd actually had a rather decent day until she heard her name. She paused, hearing voices coming from around the corner. She activated the map in a hushed tone and stood just around the corner, listening as she stared at the map.

"She's so easy," Pansy laughed to Daphne, Lily, Crabbe, Goyle, and Millicent. "I mean, seriously. I talk to her once and she thinks we're the best of friends. Pathetic."

"She thinks we're friends now," Goyle spoke up. "Cause of the fight."

Stella didn't think that about either of them but she wondered why it mattered.

"I'm telling you, it's going to be too easy," Daphne told them. "All we have to do is stay close to her and then we'll be able to turn Potter over to the Dark Lord. She's going to lead her boyfriend right to him and not even realize it."

"Then she can watch him die like she watched Zabini," Pansy was smirking. "Good riddance."

The whole group laughed.

Stella swore she saw red but forced herself to walk away, holding her breath as she did so. She threw herself into an empty classroom and began breathing heavily. She put up a privacy charm and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to keep her emotions in check. She began screaming in anger suddenly, the chairs and desks in the room flying away from her in different directions, crashing into the walls, some breaking due to the impact.

Stella took harsh breaths, waiting until she had calmed enough to check the map. She stood in the center of the destroyed room, watching as the group moved to the common room. Stella decided that if the Slytherins wanted to manipulate her and use her to get to Harry, they were in way over their heads. If war was what they wanted, war was what they'd get.

Stink pellets kept getting into most of the sixth year Slytherins belongings. So strange how it kept happening. Strange how Stella and Tracy were the only ones not caught in the crosshairs. It was happening in the halls so there was no way to pinpoint how it was happening. Ten dungbombs went off in the common room while Stella was in the brewing room with Snape and Stella smirked as he ran off to check on everyone, feeling rather proud of herself for convincing Fred and George to create some that were on timers.

Stella was in the second floor girls loo, listening to Moaning Mrytle complain as she brewed a few potions at once, having combined two stalls to make them into one so she had enough room to work. She'd gotten an idea last time she'd been in Potions class. She was using her copy of Professor Snape's old book to make changes to Veritaserum, Confusing Concoction, Alihotsy Draught, Hate Potion, Wideye Potion, and Moonseed Poison. She was careful with all of them, keeping them in bubbles so the fumes wouldn't interact and have reactions. She'd also anonymously mail ordered items from Fred and George's shop, paying an extra fee so the items came in looking like care packages from home, school books, and feminine items. It was rather genius of them.

Stella walked to the Gryffindor table on the morning of the first Hogsmeade day. She sat beside Harry, listening as Ron told Hermione the story of Harry making him dangle upside down in the air.

"Levicorpus?" Stella asked Harry.

"Yeah," he smiled.

"Nice," she nodded. "I 'accidentally' got Crabbe with that one the other day."

"Wish I'd have seen it," Harry complained.

"I did find one spell in there that you should stay away from. I'll find it later and tell you which page," she told him.

"Alright," Harry nodded.

"See? Stella's checking the spells!" Ron told Hermione, who was glowering across from them. "You just don't like the Prince, Hermione," he pointed a sausage at her sternly, "because he's better at Potions than you."

"It's got nothing to do with that!" said Hermione, her cheeks reddening. "I just think it's very irresponsible to start performing spells when you don't even know what they're for and stop talking about 'the Prince' as if it's his title, I bet it's just a stupid nickname, and it doesn't seem as though he was a very nice person to me!"

"I don't see where you get that from," said Harry heatedly. "If he'd been a budding Death Eater he wouldn't have been boasting about being 'half-blood,' would he?"

"The Death Eaters can't all be pure-blood, there aren't enough pure-blood wizards left," said Hermione stubbornly. "I expect most of them are half-bloods pretending to be pure. It's only Muggleborns they hate, they'd be quite happy to let you three join up."

"I literally killed three of them," Stella whispered across the table to her. "I doubt they'd be willing to take me as a replacement."

"There is no way they'd let me be a Death Eater!" said Ron indignantly, a bit of sausage flying off the fork he was now brandishing at Hermione and hitting Ernie Macmillan on the head. "My whole family are blood traitors! That's as bad as Muggle-borns to Death Eaters!"

"And they'd love to have me," said Harry sarcastically. "We'd be best pals if they didn't keep trying to do me in."

This made Stella and Ron laugh; even Hermione gave a grudging smile, and a distraction arrived in the shape of Ginny.

"Hey, Harry, I'm supposed to give you this."

It was a scroll of parchment with Harry's name written upon it in familiar thin, slanting writing. "Thanks, Ginny . . . It's Dumbledore's next lesson!" Harry told Stella, Ron, and Hermione, pulling open the parchment and quickly reading its contents. "Monday evening!"

He looked suddenly light and happy. Filch was standing at the oak front doors as usual, checking off the names of people who had permission to go into Hogsmeade. The process took even longer than normal as Filch was triple checking everybody with his Secrecy Sensor.

"What does it matter if we're smuggling Dark stuff OUT?" demanded Ron, eyeing the long thin Secrecy Sensor with apprehension. "Surely you ought to be checking what we bring back IN?"

His cheek earned him a few extra jabs with the Sensor, and he was still wincing as they stepped out into the wind and sleet. The walk into Hogsmeade was not enjoyable. Stella had always hated the cold. She'd wrapped herself in multiple sweaters but she'd left her scarf behind on her bed, Jinx having been curled on top of it when she'd gone to put it on. Even warming charms could only do so much.

Harry, noticing Stella still shivering, put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close, letting her steal a bit of his body heat. Zonko's was boarded up, but Ron pointed toward Honeydukes and the four rushed inside.

"Thank God," shivered Ron as they were enveloped by warm, toffee-scented air. "Let's stay here all afternoon."

"Harry, m'boy!" said a booming voice from behind them.

"Oh no," muttered Harry.

The four of them turned to see Professor Slughorn, who was wearing an enormous furry hat and an overcoat with matching fur collar, clutching a large bag of crystalized pineapple, and occupying at least a quarter of the shop.

"Harry, that's three of my little suppers you've missed now! Oh! You as well Miss Black, though I understand your reasoning," said Slughorn before poking Harry genially in the chest. "It won't do, m'boy, I'm determined to have you! Miss Granger loves them, don't you?"

"Yes," said Hermione helplessly, "they're really —"

"So why don't you come along, Harry?" demanded Slughorn.

"Well, I've had Quidditch practice, Professor," said Harry, who had switched a few practices with Stella. This strategy meant that Ron was not left out, and they usually all had a laugh with Ginny, imagining Hermione shut up with McLaggen.

"Well, I certainly expect you to win your first match after all this hard work!" said Slughorn. "But a little recreation never hurt anybody. Now, how about Monday night, you can't possibly want to practice in this weather. . . ."

"I can't, Professor, I've got — er — an appointment with Professor Dumbledore that evening."

"Unlucky again!" cried Slughorn dramatically. "Ah, well . . . you can't evade me forever, Harry!"

And with a regal wave, he waddled out of the shop, taking as little notice of Ron as though he had been a display of Cockroach Clusters.

"I can't believe you've wriggled out of another one," said Hermione, shaking her head. "And how are you getting out of them?"

"I help brew the potions for the hospital wing," Stella shrugged before Hermione continued.

"They're not that bad, you know. . . . They're even quite fun sometimes. . . ." But then she caught sight of Ron's expression. "Oh, look — they've got deluxe sugar quills — those would last hours!"

Stella bought all of Ron's favorites to make him feel a bit better. He still looked moody and shrugged when Hermione asked where he wanted to go next.

"Let's go to the Three Broomsticks," Harry tried. "It'll be warm."

Harry bundled his scarf over Stella's face and pulled her close again. The bitter wind was like knives on their faces after the sugary warmth of Honeydukes. The street was not very busy; nobody was lingering to chat, just hurrying toward their destinations. The exceptions were two men a little ahead of them, standing just outside the Three Broomsticks. One was very tall and thin; squinting through his rain-washed glasses Harry recognized the barman who worked in the other Hogsmeade pub, the Hog's Head. They were barely feet from him when Stella recognized him. Harry seemed to have as well, from him shouting, "Mundungus!" when they were close enough to be heard.

The squat, bandy-legged man with long, straggly, ginger hair jumped and dropped an ancient suitcase, which burst open, releasing what looked like the entire contents of a junk shop window.

"Oh, 'ello, 'Arry…. Stella," said Mundungus Fletcher, with a most unconvincing stab at airiness. "Well, don't let me keep ya."

And he began scrabbling on the ground to retrieve the contents of his suitcase with every appearance of a man eager to be gone.

"Are you selling this stuff?" asked Harry, watching Mundungus grab an assortment of grubby-looking objects from the ground as Stella bent down to help.

Her hand hovered over a goblet, recognizing it immediately. Her eyes slowly moved over to Mundungus slowly. He audibly gulped but Stella didn't even get the chance to do anything before Harry had the thief pinned against the wall of the pub by his throat. Holding him with one hand, Harry pulled out his wand.

"Harry!" squealed Hermione.

"You took that from Stella's house," said Harry, breathing heavily and face dangerously close to Mundungus's. "It has the Black family crest on it."

"I – no – what?" spluttered Mundungus, who was slowly turning purple.

"What did you do, go back the night Sirius died and strip the place?" Harry snarled.

"I – no –"

"Give it to me!"

"Harry, you mustn't!" Hermione shrieked as the man started turning blue.

There was a BANG and Harry's hands were thrown from Mundungas. Stella stunned the man before he could do anything else though. Harry and Stella stood tall beside each other, both looking rather terrifying, even wrapped up to protect themselves from the cold.

"Wow, you look like Mum when she's angry," Tonks voice spoke but Stella didn't care.

She kneeled down, looking through the rest of Mundungus's belongings. There were multiple stolen goods, some that Kreacher hadn't gotten to hide in his room yet. She summoned everything that had fallen and placed it into the case before standing with it in her hand. Harry's wand was pointed at Mundungus, keeping an eye on him while waiting for Stella to tell him what she wanted done.

"Let's get inside," Stella told the group as she shrunk the case and put it in her pocket. "It's cold."

The four teens left Tonks and Mundungus outside, not looking back as they stepped inside. Harry was fuming but Stella had a calm anger about her. She seemed to keep the same demeanor at almost all times now, always quietly angry, refusing to show weakness. Harry and Stella sat while Ron and Hermione went to get drinks. Harry held Stella close, kissing the top of her head and just leaning against her. Stella was shaking now but it had nothing to do with the cold.

Hermione and Ron returned with the drinks, saying nothing as they sat across from the two. Stella would have found it entertaining how much they were tiptoeing around the two lately if she weren't so angry at just about everyone around her all the time.

"Shall we call it a day and go back to school, then?" Hermione asked as they all finished their drinks.

It had not been a fun trip and the weather was getting worse the longer they stayed. Once again they drew their cloaks tightly around them, rearranged their scarves, pulled on their gloves, then followed Katie Bell and a friend out of the pub and back up the High Street, Harry holding Stella yet again. Stella caught a glimpse of Dean and Ginny in Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop and smirked before ducking her head as a sharp bit of wind blew through the street. It was then that she heard part of the conversation happening up ahead.

"It's nothing to do with you, Leanne!" Katie stated.

They rounded a corner in the lane, sleet coming thick and fast, blurring Stella's vision. Leanne made to grab hold of the package Katie was holding; Katie tugged it back and the package fell to the ground.

At once, Katie rose into the air, not as Ron had done, suspended comically by the ankle, but gracefully, her arms outstretched, as though she was about to fly. Yet there was something wrong, something eerie. . . . Her hair was whipped around her by the fierce wind, but her eyes were closed and her face was quite empty of expression. Stella, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Leanne had all halted in their tracks, watching.

Then, six feet above the ground, Katie let out a terrible scream. Her eyes flew open but whatever she could see, or whatever she was feeling, was clearly causing her terrible anguish. She screamed and screamed; Leanne started to scream too and seized Katie's ankles, trying to tug her back to the ground. Harry, Ron, and Hermione rushed forward to help, but even as they grabbed Katie's legs, she fell on top of them; Harry and Ron managed to catch her but she was writhing so much they could hardly hold her. Instead they lowered her to the ground where she thrashed and screamed, apparently unable to recognize any of them.

Stella watched in stunned silence for a moment before she ran back towards Hogsmeade.

"TONKS!" she screamed. "TONKS!"

"What's happened?" Tonks demanded, appearing in front of Stella.

"Katie! She's been hurt! Come on!" Stella grabbed Tonks's hand and dragged her back to the others.

Harry had run towards the school, presumably to get a teacher. Katie was still writhing and screaming on the ground.

"Get back!" Tonks shouted. "Lemme see her!"

"Something's happened to her!" sobbed Leanne. "I don't know what –"

Harry returned with Hagrid as Stella stole Ron's scarf. She crouched down as Tonks performed a few spells and nodded to Hagrid, letting him lift Katie and run her towards the school. An ornate opal necklace was visible, poking out over a brown-paper package. She wrapped it in Ron's scarf, careful not to touch it. Harry, seeing what she was doing, hurried over, taking it from her the moment she was finished, not wanting it anywhere near her.

"How did Katie get ahold of this?" Hermione asked Leanne.

"Well, that's why we were arguing. She came back from the bathroom in the Three Broomsticks holding it, said it was a surprise for somebody at Hogwarts and she had to deliver it. She looked all funny when she said it. . . . Oh no, oh no, I bet she'd been Imperiused and I didn't realize!"

"I'm happy that I didn't need to pee today," Stella mumbled before raising her voice. "We need to get to the school, take that to a teacher."

"She didn't say who'd given it to her, Leanne?" Hermione asked gently.

"No . . . she wouldn't tell me . . . and I said she was being stupid and not to take it up to school, but she just wouldn't listen and . . . and then I tried to grab it from her . . . and — and —"

Leanne let out a wail of despair. As they followed Hermione and Leanne up the road, Harry seemed to be thinking furiously. They had just entered the grounds when he spoke, unable to keep his thoughts to himself any longer.

"Malfoy knows about this necklace. It was in a case at Borgin and Burkes four years ago, I saw him having a good look at it while we was hiding from him and his dad. This is what he was buying that day when we followed him! He remembered it and he went back for it!" Harry told Stella.

"I — I dunno, Harry," said Ron hesitantly. "Loads of people go to Borgin and Burkes . . . and didn't that girl say Katie got it in the girls' bathroom?"

"She said she came back from the bathroom with it, she didn't necessarily get it in the bathroom itself —"

"McGonagall!" said Ron warningly.

Harry looked up. Sure enough, Professor McGonagall was hurrying down the stone steps through swirling sleet to meet them.

"Hagrid says you five saw what happened to Katie Bell — upstairs to my office at once, please! What's that you're holding, Potter?"

"It's the thing she touched," said Harry.

"Good lord," said Professor McGonagall, looking alarmed as she took the necklace from Harry. "No, no, Filch, they're with me!" she added hastily, as Filch came shuffling eagerly across the entrance hall holding his Secrecy Sensor aloft. "Take this necklace to Professor Snape at once, but be sure not to touch it, keep it wrapped in the scarf!"

Stella and the others followed Professor McGonagall upstairs and into her office, Stella telling Harry that Malfoy had been in detention today, not in Hogsmeade. He looked disappointed but nodded.

"How do you know that?" Ron asked in a whisper.

"I told Harry I'd keep an eye on him," Stella whispered back.

"Oh, not you, too," Hermione groaned.

The sleet-spattered windows were rattling in their frames, and the room was chilly despite the fire crackling in the grate. Professor McGonagall closed the door and swept around her desk to face Stella, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and the still sobbing Leanne.

"Well?" she said sharply. "What happened?"

Haltingly, and with many pauses while she attempted to control her crying, Leanne told Professor McGonagall how Katie had gone to the bathroom in the Three Broomsticks and returned holding the unmarked package, how Katie had seemed a little odd, and how they had argued about the advisability of agreeing to deliver unknown objects, the argument culminating in the tussle over the parcel, which tore open. At this point, Leanne was so overcome, there was no getting another word out of her.

"All right," said Professor McGonagall, not unkindly, "go up to the hospital wing, please, Leanne, and get Madam Pomfrey to give you something for shock."

When she had left the room, Professor McGonagall turned back to Stella, Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"What happened when Katie touched the necklace?"

"She rose up in the air," said Harry, before the others could speak, "and then began to scream, and collapsed."

"Why is it that when something happens it is almost always you four?" McGonagall sighed.

"Been asking myself that same question for a few years, Professor," Ron tried for a joke.

"I need to go up to the hospital wing and check on Katie Bell," McGonagall sighed. "Good day to all of you."

The four walked out of the office, watching as McGonagall ran off.

"I have potions to brew," Stella sighed. "I'll see you lot later."

"Yeah," Harry nodded, kissing Stella's head before releasing her and letting her leave them.

They thought she was heading to the hospital wing, but Stella turned on the second floor, stepping into Mrytle's bathroom. There was already someone there though. Draco Malfoy was standing over a sink, breathing heavily. Stella closed the door quietly, not letting him know that she was there until, after watching him for a few minutes as he tried to not have a panic attack, she cleared her throat.

Draco's wand was in his hand in a second, shooting a spell at her without hesitation. Stella flicked her wand, sending the spell off to the side. Draco looked horrified when he realized who he'd shot a spell at, hand shaking and wand slowly lowering.

"What – what are you doing here?" he asked, voice shaking.

"This is the girl's bathroom. What are you doing here?" Stella asked in return.

"None of your business," he scoffed, trying to stand tall but still shaking.

"Do you need a calming draught?" Stella asked, already pulling one out of the stash that she kept on her regularly these days; being around people who were planning to use you to kill your best friend grated on the nerves a bit.

Stella walked slowly to Draco, hands raised to show she didn't have her wand in hand and that she had a draught out for him. She was trying to make it obvious that she meant him no harm. Once she was an arm's length away, Stella held the potion out to him and he took it in his shaking grasp, swallowing it down quickly. It took a minute but Draco was able to stop shaking.

"Would you like to see what I'm doing?" Stella asked, trying to distract him.

"Why not?" he sighed.

Stella waved for him to follow her and led him to the very last stalls. She opened one of the doors wide and let Draco see inside, finding her cauldrons bubbling away and a few potions already bottled up. There were joke products galore as well, stocked up in a corner. Draco stared in confusion before looking to Stella.

"You're stock piling joke items?" he asked. "Why?"

"Revenge," she shrugged, taking a calming draught of her own.

"Aren't you the one always sprouting off about how none of us are our parents?" Draco deadpanned.

"We aren't our parents," Stella shook her head. "The ones I'm going after are their own people planning against me to get to Harry. I refuse to lose another friend."

Draco's eyes widened a bit, but his expression stayed blank outside of that.

"What happened?" he asked. "Who's planning against you?"

He almost sounded protective.

"Parkinson, Greengrass, Crabbe, Goyle, Bulstrode, and Moon. I overheard them making fun of Blaise's death and Theo's injuries and laughing because they thought I was easy to manipulate. They plan to use me to get closer to Harry so that they can hand him to Voldemort when the time comes."

Draco flinched at the name but Stella said nothing, even as he rubbed his arm. She knew. She'd caught a glimpse in Potions two weeks ago but said nothing. Draco was more pale and thin than normal, almost like a ghost walking through the halls. Voldemort liked to use children and she had no doubts that the same was happening now.

"Wanna help?" Stella asked, remembering how close Draco, Theo, and Blaise had once been as kids.

"Absolutely," he growled out, more than likely thinking the same thing Stella just had.

The two got to work, brewing more potions and bottling ones that were finished. Stella showed Draco the changes to the potions and he followed them to the tee. Two days later, the Veritaserum was complete. Stella used the map so that she and Draco could sneak into the kitchens late at night, disillusioned as they walked in so that the elves couldn't snitch on them. The kitchens were set up in the same manor that the Great Hall was, making it so that food would transfer from the table in the kitchen, straight to the tables in the Great Hall. Stella took the inner side of the table and Draco took the outer. The two walked down the table, pouring the truth potion into goblets and swirling them around the edges before moving to the next. Every goblet, tea cup, fork, and spoon ended up with a layer of the potion. It took a few hours to get the entire table, but they headed back to the dorms, sneaking in and climbing into their beds as if nothing had happened.

Stella dressed like she always did in the morning. Draco was skipping breakfast, which would surprise no one since he'd already been skipping meals doing who knew what. Stella went to head to the Gryffindor table but Pansy grabbed her arm, dragging her to the Slytherins instead. Stella had to keep appearances up and let the Slytherins think that they were on the right track. It was a bit unnerving how easily they bought her friendship. She truly thought Pansy would have seen through it by now but Stella had Occluded every time it got hard and Pansy always asked if she was thinking of Blaise and Theo whenever she did it. Stella would nod and take a few deep breaths before giving Pansy a weak smile and moving along.

"What happened at Hogsmeade?" Pansy asked her, news of Katie being attacked had finally made it around the school apparently. "We heard you were there."

"She touched a cursed object," Stella shrugged. "Not sure how she got it or how she was stupid enough the touch the damn thing."

"Dirty half-blood," Daphne muttered to Lily, thinking Stella couldn't hear her so Stella pretended she hadn't.

"Let's hurry and eat. We have Charms this morning," Pansy sighed.

Tracy kept glancing at Stella from down the table, a worried expression on her face as she saw the other Slytherins surrounding Stella. Stella wondered if Tracy had figured it out. When the others had figured out that Tracy was a Muggle-born, she'd been pushed out of the group and made friends with some Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. She and Stella were still friendly though and Stella was sure Tracy wanted to warn her.

Having already taken the antidote just in case, Stella began eating breakfast without a bit of worry, drinking her morning tea and eating her bacon and eggs. It started with the first years, who began telling each other their crushes, which was actually a little sweet. Third year was next and Stella got to witness the end of a relationship when it was discovered that one of them was cheating.

"I wanna fuck you," Pansy sighed, looking at Stella.

"I'll think it over," Stella shrugged and then forced a confused look onto her face as she looked to Pansy, whose hand was covering her mouth.

"I didn't mean to say that," Pansy told her, a bright blush taking over her face.

More chaos was breaking out amongst the Slytherin table, people blurting out secrets. It was rather amusing considering they were supposed to be the sneaky house. Stella stood from the table quickly and went straight to the heads.

"Sir!" Stella yelled when she was close enough.

"What is going on?" Snape asked, confused before he ran towards the table, three fist fights and a duel having broken out.

Stella smirked as the teachers and students were all distracted. She walked to the door, arms folding over her chest as she leaned against the wall by the entrance, watching. Draco stepped in, leaning against the wall beside her, the same smirk on his face. Tracy hurried over to them.

"Stella, they're plotting against you," Tracy stated, out of breath. "You have to stay away from them."

"I know," Stella shrugged. "Why do you think this is happening?"

"You did this?"

"We did," Stella tilted her head towards Draco before pulling a potion from her pouch and passing it to Tracy. "Antidote."

Tracy took it quickly, passing the vial back to Stella and joining them on the wall.

"You should know I'm not nearly done yet," Stella told Tracy.

"I want in," Tracy glared at the Slytherins. "They deserve everything you have planned."

"Let's get out of here."

The three pushed themselves off the wall, leaving through the doorway without another word. Harry, Ron and Hermione saw them leaving and followed quickly. Stella cast disillusionment charms quickly though, losing the Gryffindors in the crowd. Once in the bathroom, Stella removed the charms and led Tracy to the enlarged stall. Stella told Tracy her plans, what she wanted to do in order of when she wanted it done.

"You want to do what to the common room?" Tracy asked, eyes wide.

"You heard me," Stella smirked.

Things were tense in the Slytherin house, Snape popping in more often than not now to check on all of the students and make sure no one was at one another's throats again. The best part was that Stella had no suspicion on her at all. The other houses had been targeting them so often that no one even thought to think that the attack had come from inside the house itself. Not even the elves had any information to give, but Stella knew she wouldn't be able to sneak into the kitchens again.

Stella told Draco that she knew about the mark three days later, having avoided Harry, Ron and Hermione for the past few days now. He'd had a bit of a break down and told Stella everything; Narcissa being held captive by Voldemort and threatened with Greyback, being assigned to kill Dumbledore and get Death Eaters into the school through a magical cabinet that needed repairing. She'd pulled him into a tight hug as he'd cried, vowing to protect them herself and reinserting them into the family, black sparks shooting into the air of Mrytle's bathroom and causing her to wail in fright.

Stella was looking more and more like Bellatrix Lestrange every day. Her hair was curling and becoming frayed in places. She pulled it up so no one would see. Her smile was more nasty and her laugh was turning a bit mad. Draco was having some of the same issues. He smirked wickedly quite often and his hair was always a mess. They only took calming draughts every so often now.

They had both heard of the Black Madness before but experiencing it was a whole nother thing. They both knew what was happening but neither really minded at this point. Tracy, on the other hand, was a bit unnerved around them at times. Stella would remind her how the Slytherins had treated her since finding out about her parentage though and she'd get this determined look on her face before bottling a potion, holding it up to the light so she could see it better. Stella knew she was manipulating the other girl a bit and wanted to feel bad for it, but she didn't.

The game against Gryffindor loomed closer and closer. Katie needed to be replaced but Stella didn't know who would be taking over since she was still avoiding Harry. She pushed her team hard, trying to keep herself in line every time that she saw one of her beaters. She knew Ron was still having problems and his nerves would get to him. Anytime she had a class with them, she would sing 'Weasley Is our King' under her breath. It kept the trio away from her as well, which was helpful.

Pansy seemed beyond thrilled by Stella's behavior, no clue what was coming for her. She thought Stella had finally given up on the Gryffindors and was coming around to them. She'd still push Stella to talk Harry at times and Stella would lie and say that she was to appease her. Stella knew it wouldn't last after the game though. She could claim her competitive side for her distance for now, but after the game, it would be a different story.

Pansy had been flirting with Stella constantly now and Stella had been flirting back, trying to keep her entertained. She just embraced her inner Sirius. They were in an abandoned corridor one day after having taken a walk through the school.

"Screw it," Pansy groaned out, grabbing Stella's face and kissing her roughly.

Stella forced herself not to flinch away. Instead, she put her hand on Pansy's throat and pulled her behind a tapestry before pressing her against the wall, other hand on her hip as she pressed her body to Pansy's.

"Oi!"

Stella looked over but stayed pressed to Pansy, not even looking a little bit ashamed of herself as her eyes locked onto Harry and Ron.

"Hmm?" Stella hummed, tilting her head slightly.

"I don't want to find my own sister snogging people in public!" Ron yelled.

"This was a deserted corridor till you came butting in," Stella pointed out as Pansy began kissing her exposed neck.

"Maybe we should go to our dorm?" Pansy suggested.

"You go on," Stella told her, turning so their lips were almost touching. "I want to have a word with my brother."

"I'll be waiting," Pansy gave Stella a quick kiss before Stella stepped back, letting Pansy pass her.

"Right," Stella sighed once Pansy was gone, tossing up a privacy spell before turning to Ron, "let's get this straight. It is none of your business who I decided I snog or when or where I do it—"

"Yeah, it is!" said Ron angrily. "D'you think I want people saying my sister's a –"

"A what?" Stella asked, her wand sliding into her hand as her temper rose. "A what, exactly, Ronald?"

"He doesn't mean it," Harry tried.

"Oh yes he does!" Stella yelled. "Just because he's never snogged anyone in his life, just because the best kiss he's ever had is from our Aunt Muriel—"

"Shut your mouth!" Ron bellowed, bypassing red and turning maroon.

"I will not!" Stella yelled back. "You chase after Fleur every time she enters a room, hoping she'll give you a kiss on the cheek. It's pathetic! If you went out and got a bit of snogging done yourself, you wouldn't mind so much that everyone else does it!"

Ron had pulled out his wand too; Harry stepped swiftly between them.

"You don't know what you're talking about!" Ron roared, trying to get a clear shot at Stella around Harry, who was standing in front of Stella with his arms outstretched. "Just because I don't do it in public—"

"Been kissing Pigwidgeon, have you?" Stella laughed. "Or have you got a picture of Aunt Muriel under your pillow?"

"You—"

A streak of orange light flew under Harry's left arm and missed Stella by inches. Harry pushed Ron up against the wall, arm pressed to his throat.

"Don't be stupid—" Harry tried.

"Harry's snogged Cho Chang! Hermione snogging Theo and I snogged Blaise and now Pansy! It's only you who acts like it's something disgusting and that's because you've got about as much experience as a twelve year old!"

Stella turned on her heel and headed towards the dungeons. She felt a bit bad for everything she'd said but she hoped it would save Ginny from having to scream at him later. She and Dean were a bit hot and heavy these days as well. She'd need to have a talk with her, make sure that if anything went further that Ginny was being safe and knew what to expect.

Pansy was in the dorm room, looking rather put out by the fact that Daphne and Millicent were talking at her. Stella snickered and sent her a wink before heading back out. She ended up working on her potions again as Draco tried thinking of different ways to kill Dumbledore. She pretended not to notice when one of her vials of Moonseed Poisoning disappeared, hoping that Draco wouldn't get expelled or murdered just after she'd written to Gringotts to make him a vault again. It was a lot of paperwork.

Stella snuck over to the Quidditch field, watching a rather dismal practice. Ron was in a foul mood and it showed. He ended up missing every shot, letting the Quaffle through every time before bellowing at Robins, causing her to burst into tears.

"You shut up and leave her alone!" shouted Peakes, who was about two-thirds Ron's height, though admittedly carrying a heavy bat.

"ENOUGH!" bellowed Harry, who had seen Ginny glowering in Ron's direction and, remembering her reputation as an accomplished caster of the Bat-Bogey Hex, soared over to intervene before things got out of hand. "Peakes, go and pack up the Bludgers. Demelza, pull yourself together, you played really well today. Ron . . ." he waited until the rest of the team were out of earshot before saying it, Stella just barely able to hear from her hiding spot, "you're my best mate, but carry on treating the rest of them like this and I'm going to kick you off the team."

She really thought for a moment that Ron might hit Harry, but then something much worse happened: Ron seemed to sag on his broom; all the fight went out of him and he said, "I resign. I'm pathetic."

"You're not pathetic and you're not resigning!" said Harry fiercely, seizing Ron by the front of his robes. "You can save anything when you're on form, it's a mental problem you've got!"

"You calling me mental?"

"Yeah, maybe I am!"

They glared at each other for a moment, then Ron shook his head wearily. "I know you haven't got any time to find another Keeper, so I'll play tomorrow, but if we lose, and we will, I'm taking myself off the team."

Ron strode away and Harry tilted his head back, looking beyond frustrated.

"Any chance you'll go easy on us tomorrow?" he asked suddenly and Stella jumped when he looked directly at her. "I saw you an hour ago. I am a seeker after all."

"No chance," she smirked, walking onto the field. "Wanna fly for a bit? Get rid of some of that stress?"

He chewed his lip before shaking his head.

"Why were you with Malfoy that day?" he asked.

"I can't tell you," she shrugged. "I'll tell you eventually, but for now, I have to keep it to myself."

"Okay," he nodded.

"Okay?" Stella asked in confusion, honestly shocked that Harry had let it go so easily.

"I trust you," Harry told her and Stella gave him a soft smile.

"Twenty galleons says I catch the snitch before you do?"

"You're on."

Breakfast was the usual excitable affair next morning; the Slytherins hissed and booed loudly as every member of the Gryffindor team entered the Great Hall. Stella glanced at the ceiling and saw a clear, pale blue sky: a good omen. The Slytherin table was a sea of silver and green, all cheering as the team joined the table. It seemed they were back to liking her again, though they still talked badly about her behind her back. Maybe Snape's speeches had gotten to them but she doubted it.

The team left the table, going down to the changing rooms together. Stella got changed behind a screen before joining the rest. They walked out onto the pitch to tumultuous roars and boos. One end of the stadium was solid red and gold; the other, a sea of green and silver. Many Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws had taken sides too: Amidst all the yelling and clapping Stella could distinctly hear the roar of Luna Lovegood's famous lion-topped hat.

"Captains, shake hands," Hooch demanded and Harry and Stella shook hands, Stella sending Harry a wink before he kissed her hand.

"Oi! Stop flirting down there!" Ginny yelled and Stella laughed before mounting her broom.

"On my whistle… three… two… one…"

And they were off. Stella flew high into the air. She heard Zacharius Smith making fun of Ron before hearing that O'Connor was streaking down the field.

"… Slytherin's first attempt at a goal and—"

Stella didn't bother to look.

"- Weasley saves it, well, he's bound to get lucky sometimes, I suppose…"

"What?!" Stella screeched, turning quickly and seeing Ron smiling proudly and passing the ball to Ginny.

Harry laughed and Stella turned her glare on him. She and Harry raced through the field, searching hard for the snitch. Half an hour into the game, the score was zero to zero, Ron and Baker both working overtime. Both teams were frustrated and Stella decided to say screw it, flew down, stole the Quaffle from Ginny, tore down the field and threw the ball through a goal post, scoring the first ten points of the game.

"Find the snitch!" Stella yelled at Walsh and he took off into the air.

Coote hit a bludger and took out Baker, Stella yelling in anger as her youngest player was taken to the hospital wing on a stretcher. Walsh took over goal post instead. Ginny and Stella were fighting for goals now. Every time that Stella scored a point though, Ginny scored two. The score was 240-80 in Gryffindors favor and Stella was pissed. Smith had started in on Harry's beaters now.

"Of course, Coote isn't really the usual build for a Beater," said Zacharias loftily, "they've generally got a bit more muscle —"

"Hit a Bludger at him!" Harry called to Coote as he zoomed past, but Coote, grinning broadly, chose to aim the next Bludger at Stella instead, who was just passing Harry in the opposite direction.

Stella bumped Harry with her foot as she passed him, knowing Hooch wasn't looking.

"Hey!" he complained.

"I don't like Coote! Or Ginny!" she yelled before she saw a streak of gold. "Get ready to lose that bet!"

She took off down the field, Harry chasing after her.

"Black of Slytherin has seen the Snitch! She's seen something Potter hasn't!" Smith yelled excitedly.

Stella was so close, Harry right behind her. She just wanted the game to end, put her team out of their misery at this point and keep the score as close as possible so they could catch up on points in other games, get the chance to play Gryffindor again at the end of the year. Stella's fingers wrapped around the snitch and she flipped in the air, flying pass Harry and holding up the snitch.

"She's done it! Black catches the snitch and ends the game making the final score 240-230! Gryffindor wins…"

Smith grumbled the last bit. Stella wasn't paying attention to his words though as she flew directly into the commentator's podium with a large crash. Harry flew to her quickly, helping her back to her feet as McGonagall began screaming at her.

"Sorry, Professor," she sighed, hands going to her hips. "Wasn't paying attention after I caught the snitch."

Harry let out a laugh and lifted Stella into a hug before setting her back down quickly and joining his team as they celebrated. Stella got back on her broom, flying over to where Pansy was standing, the rest of the Slytherins having already left.

"Here," Stella smiled softly, passing the snitch to her. "I caught it for you. Sorry I couldn't win it."

"There's always next time," Pansy smiled back, taking the snitch and staring down at it. "Do you know what everyone thinks when the seeker gives the snitch to someone?"

"No. What?" Stella shook her head, knowing exactly what it meant.

"It means that the seeker wants to take things seriously with the person it's given to. When Potter gave you one, everyone backed off," Pansy told her.

"I forgot he even gave me one," Stella lied. "Don't think he knows what it means, either."

"Hmm," Pansy hummed. "Do you still want me to have it?"

"Yeah," Stella nodded. "Only if you want it though."

"Hmm," Pansy hummed. "I'll think it over. See you later, Black."

"See you later, Parkinson," Stella smirked before flying down to the changing rooms.

Stella took a quick shower and got dressed. She walked out of the changing room to find Harry waiting for her.

"Party in the tower," he told her. "Wanna come?"

"Always," Stella smiled. "Then you can give me my gold."

Harry laughed and nodded, leading her towards the castle.

"So, what's going on with you and Pansy?" Harry asked as they walked into the school, seeming as if he didn't want to know the answer to the question.

"We're just having fun," Stella shrugged. "I think I deserve some fun after the ministry, honestly. So do you."

"I guess," he shrugged.

Stella grabbed his hand and gave him a small smile.

"How are you actually doing?" Stella asked him.

"It doesn't matter," he shook his head. "You lost—"

"We're not talking about what I lost," she told him quickly. "I'm asking after you. You lost your godfather. Blaise was your friend and Theo is, too. So, how are you actually doing?"

Harry sighed and pulled Stella into an empty classroom, which happened to be the one closest to the Gryffindor common room. He put up a privacy charm and turned to her, looking a bit broken. Stella wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her chin on his chest, looking up at him. Harry wrapped his arms around her waist as well, staring down at her with brilliant green eyes.

"I feel better when you're around," Harry admitted. "It feels easier to breath."

"I feel the same," she admitted, meaning it.

"I didn't know about you and Blaise," he told her.

"I forgot that you weren't there during that argument," Stella sighed. "Yeah. It was at Christmas."

"Why didn't you tell anyone?" Harry asked.

"Honestly we wanted to see how long it would take for anyone to notice," Stella smirked. "Theo knew. Walked in on us snogging once."

"I don't wanna hear about that," Harry frowned.

"Oh?" Stella laughed. "Why not?"

Harry remained silent, staring down at her.

"Why not?" Stella asked, voice soft.

"I don't know," he told her but Stella could tell it was a lie. "We should get to the party."

"Okay," Stella sighed and neither of them moved causing her to smirk. "Any day now."

"Right," Harry let out a small laugh and stepped away from her, pulling her with him.

Renewed cheers and clapping greeted their appearance, and they were soon surrounded by a mob of people congratulating Harry and telling Stella "good flying". It took time to shake off the Creevey brothers, who wanted a blow-by-blow match analysis, and the large group of girls that encircled Harry, laughing at his least amusing comments and batting their eyelids. Romilda Vane was, once again, glaring at Stella. Stella simply rolled her eyes as Harry pulled her closer, arms wrapped around her as he stood behind her, chin resting on the top of her head. This seemed to deter the girls and they finally moved along.

"Am I just fourth year repellant for you?" Stella laughed as they finally found Hermione, who was laughing with Ginny. "Hello."

"What are you doing at a Gryffindor party?" Ginny smirked.

"Celebrating that I caught the snitch before- Is that Ron?" Stella pointed towards the two people in the corner making out.

"Yeah, the filthy hypocrite," Ginny laughed. "He yelled at me the other day for holding hands with Dean and now he's eating Lavendar Brown's face."

"That's my fault. I may have riled him up a bit," Stella smirked. "I suppose he's got to refine his technique somehow."

Harry let out a chuckle which reverberated from his chest through Stella's back. Stella spotted Crookshanks trotting after Arnold and pointed it out to the two girls, who both immediately went after their pets. Harry's arm tightened around her as McLaggen approached them, seeming to try for some sort of swag as he walked but looking more like he didn't know how to work his own arms as they waved around beside him.

"Stella Black," McLaggen smirked. "Any way I could steal you from Harry for a dance?"

"I'd rather drown in the lake," Stella told him, pulling Harry away.

"Come on," Harry laughed and the two headed up to his dorm room, away from the crowd and the noise. "Twenty galleons, yeah?"

"Don't worry about it," she shrugged. "I don't really want the money."

"But I lost," Harry pointed out.

"You'll make it up to me some other way," she shrugged, plopping down onto his bed.

Harry smirked and sat beside her, the two falling backwards and laying down with their legs hanging off the side of the bed.

"Wanna see something cool?" Stella asked, head turning towards Harry.

"Sure," he smiled in return.

"Baubillious," Stella said, pointing her hand up and causing white sparks to shoot from her fingers.

Harry was delighted by her having figured out a bit of wandless magic. She shot different color sparks into the air for a while, the two giggling as Harry requested different colors.

"Are you going to Slughorn's party?" Harry asked her.

"I think I have to," Stella sighed.

"That makes two of us," Harry shot back.

"Well, at least we'll be in good company," Stella smirked.

"Do you want to go together?" he asked.

"Sure," Stella nodded.

"Cool," Harry nodded, staring up at the ceiling again.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Dean asked as he walked into the room, freezing when he saw Stella and Harry on his bed, the two having changed how they were laying when their legs began to fall asleep so now they were cuddled closer to one another. "Oh! Sorry to interrupt. I'll go."

Dean left in a hurry and Stella and Harry exchanged looks before they began laughing. It was late by the time the two stopped talking and Harry asked Stella if she could stay. Stella agreed and stole some of Harry's clothes to sleep in, which included a clean Quidditch jersey. She stepped out of the loo, her hair still up in a messy bun. Harry just stared at her, eyes wide and mouth open slightly.

"What?" Stella asked him, knowing perfectly well what that look meant but not willing to admit it.

"Nothing," Harry shook his head quickly, going to the loo to get changed himself.

Stella made herself comfortable on the bed, the blanket covering her legs where the shorts Harry'd found for her didn't cover. He returned and climbed in beside her, pulling the blanket up over the two of them and shutting his curtain. Harry pulled Stella close to his side and Stella laid her head on his chest and their legs tangling together. It didn't take long for them to fall asleep.

"OI!" Ron bellowed the next morning, waking them. "THAT'S MY SISTER!"

"And she's trying to sleep in," Stella grumbled, getting comfortable on Harry's chest again after they'd both initially jumped.

"Wha—" Ron sputtered.

"What time is it?" Harry asked, grabbing his wand and casting a charm to check the time. "Ron, it's eight on a Sunday. Why are you awake?"

"Why is my sister in your bed?" Ron demanded.

"Not the first time it's happened. Don't know why it's such a big deal now," Stella complained.

"Not the first time!?"

"Shut it," Seamus complained, sitting up in his own bed. "What's going on?"

"Hi, Stella," Dean waved, looking far too awake and entertained for her liking.

"Stella?" Neville asked. "How long have you been here?"

"She slept here," Dean answered.

"You knew?!" Ron was shocked.

"I came up to see where Harry'd run off to last night and found them," Dean shrugged.

"Can we circle back to THAT'S MY SISTER?!" Ron bellowed again.

"And you're a toerag but you don't hear us screaming it at eight in the morning," Stella rolled her eyes before sitting up and stretching. "I should probably get to the dungeons."

"Before your girlfriend comes looking for you?" Harry joked.

"Funny," Stella rolled her eyes, climbing over Harry and getting out of the bed. " 'Scuse me."

Stella went to the loo, changing into the jeans she'd worn to the party but unable to find her shirt. She walked back into the dorm, checking along the floor as she went.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked her, now sitting up.

"I can't find my shirt," she admitted.

"I'll find it later and bring it to you," Harry offered. "You should hurry before Snape goes looking for you."

"He's much scarier than Parkinson," Stella agreed. "Alright. I'll get your jersey back later."

"Keep it," Harry shrugged. "It was an old one. Doesn't fit anymore."

"Bye, all!" Stella called as she left the room.

A few people were already in the common room and Stella waved as she left. She took shortcuts to get to the dungeons, avoiding being caught as she walked into the Slytherin common room, disillusioned. Pansy was there with Daphne, the two whispering back and forth. Stella approached them slowly, tiptoeing so they wouldn't hear her.

"I'm telling you, Daphne, it's going to happen," Pansy smirked.

"Are you sure you want to take it that far?" Daphne asked her.

"She may be a blood traitor, but she's still hot. And rich," Pansy rolled her eyes. "Using Black may pay off in more ways than one."

Stella walked away then, rolling her eyes as she went. Maybe it was time to step up her game.

The night before Slughorn's party there was a party in the Room of Requirement. Stella passed the message along to the Gryffindors and led the Slytherins to the room, having told Draco to be seen literally anywhere else. He ended up getting detention with Flitwick for the cause. Tracy was staying back with the younger students, studying in the common room in plain view. Stella had to keep up appearances as she and Pansy walked hand-in-in hand into the room, Stella having used the map to keep them all from getting caught.

She was wearing a school skirt but it was rolled up dangerously short, a white button up blouse that was barely done, and kitten heels, hair pulled up in a high ponytail and lips stained red. Pansy had been eyeing her the entire time that she'd walked around the dorm getting ready, bending so she could look in the mirror while doing her makeup so her skirt rode up even more.

Music was already blaring and drinks were flowing when they got there. Stella moved straight to the dance floor with Pansy. She pulled Pansy's body against hers, the two dancing against each other inappropriately as quite a few people watched on. Pansy moved her face as if to kiss Stella, so Stella spun her around, making her face away from her. One hand was on Pansy's hip as they ground against one another. Her other hand went up Pansy's front, going between her breast and up to her neck, choking her just slightly so Pansy tilted her head back, eyes closed.

Stella moved her hand from Pansy's throat back to her back, bending her forward so that she bent at her waist. The two girls laughed as Pansy stood straight again, turning in Stella's arms. Stella's hand wound into Pansy's hair as Pansy went to kiss her again. Stella pulled her head back just a bit by her hair before giving her a teasing smile and then kissing her.

Stella didn't mind the kissing honestly. She liked the control that Pansy let her have. If she didn't know what Pansy was actually planning, she would have seriously thought on sleeping with her by then but she did know. Which was why Stella separated from Pansy slowly and gave her a smirk.

"Entertain yourself for a bit?" Stella asked her. "I'm going to get us drinks."

Pansy nodded, a bit breathless. Stella passed Pansy off to Daphne and strode over to the drink table where Harry was standing with Seamus and Neville.

"Having a good time?" Seamus asked.

"About to be," she answered, pulling two potions from her pocket, removing the cork, and pouring the contents into the two punch bowls. "I wouldn't suggest drinking this. Let the other Gryffindors know discreetly, please."

Stella poured a glass for Pansy before grabbing a firewhiskey spiked butterbeer and leaving the boys. She passed Pansy her drink and the two continued dancing, drinking as they went. Stella even made out with her a bit more before separating again. She danced happily, jumping up and down with the beat. Soon the Slytherins were getting a bit sloppy, almost as if they'd ingested copious amounts of confusing concoction. Stella and the other houses stuck to the bottles rather than the punch that the Slytherins were drinking.

Pansy wondered off and Stella strutted over to Harry's side, turning and leaning her back against his chest. Harry's arms wrapped around her and she just watched everything unfolding. The Slytherins were bumping into people, seemingly lost and confused by their surroundings.

Stella loved messy bitches.

"Girls go to strange lengths for revenge," Harry commented and Stella let out a dark chuckle.

"You have no idea."

"What did they even do?" Harry asked. "You never told me."

"It's a part of that thing I can't tell you yet," Stella admitted. "Can I stay with you tonight? I don't fancy babysitting them."

"Of course," Harry whispered directly into her ear and Stella couldn't stop the shiver that worked through her body.

Damn firewhiskey. Harry chuckled, as if knowing what he was doing to her. She gave him a glare and then smirked, dragging him to the dance floor, hiding them in the crowd. She danced on him much like how Pansy had been dancing on her not too long ago. Harry's eyes widened and his hands tightened their hold on her hips, holding her close and moving with her.

They ended up leaving before the other boys in his year, Stella leaving the map with Neville, who looked rather out of place in the crowd. They fell into Harry's bed, him staring at the hem rather short skirt with interest.

"Alright there?" she smirked, feeling rather bold.

"This skirt is very short," he told her, face red from alcohol.

"And I am very cold in it," Stella admitted, pulling Harry close.

Harry was lying halfway on top of Stella, staring down at her and breathing heavily. Neither moved or said anything, remaining silent and Stella wondered if Harry was going to give in or not, barely a few inches between them now. Harry leaned forward and Stella watched as he leaned up, kissing her forehead before holding her to his chest, pulling a blanket over the top of them. She felt disappointed as she drifted to sleep.

The Slytherins had woken up with severe headaches that hangover potions couldn't heal. It got them in trouble throughout classes all day, Tracy, Stella, and Draco hiding their victorious smirks the entire time.

Later that night, Stella dressed in a red cocktail dress and heels. Her hair was braided in a bun and she had the necklace and earrings that Sirius had gotten for her on. She never took off her watch from Blaise or the bracelet from Harry, so those were on as well. She finished her makeup, a smokey eye and red lips, before leaving the Slytherins behind, finding Harry waiting for her outside the portrait hole. His eyes widened when he saw her and his mouth fell open, reminding Stella a bit of when he'd seen her at the Yule Ball.

"Hey," she smiled brightly and Harry shook himself.

"Hi," he told her, voice soft. "You look beautiful."

"Thank you. You look nice as well," she told him honestly, fixing his tie a bit. "Should we go?"

"Yeah," Harry nodded.

"How were your last few classes of the day?" she asked him, trying to make small talk.

"Alright," Harry nodded. "Did you hear there's a vampire coming?"

"I have!" Stella smiled excitedly. "I've never actually seen one before."

Harry stopped her outside of Slughorn's office.

"Ready?" he asked, looking a little resigned.

"As I'll ever be," she shrugged.

Whether it had been built that way, or because he had used magical trickery to make it so, Slughorn's office was much larger than the usual teacher's study. The ceiling and walls had been draped with emerald, crimson, and gold hangings, so that it looked as though they were all inside a vast tent. The room was crowded and stuffy and bathed in the red light cast by an ornate golden lamp dangling from the center of the ceiling in which real fairies were fluttering, each a brilliant speck of light. Loud singing accompanied by what sounded like mandolins issued from a distant corner; a haze of pipe smoke hung over several elderly warlocks deep in conversation, and a number of house-elves were negotiating their way squeakily through the forest of knees, obscured by the heavy silver platters of food they were bearing, so that they looked like little roving tables.

"Harry, m'boy! And, of course, Stella! Two of you are always together," boomed Slughorn, almost as soon as Harry and Stella had squeezed in through the door. "Come in, come in, so many people I'd like you to meet!"

Slughorn was wearing a tasseled velvet hat to match his smoking jacket. Gripping Harry's arm so tightly he might have been hoping to Disapparate with him, Slughorn led him purposefully into the party; Harry seized Stella's hand and dragged her along with him, her trying not to laugh in the process.

"Harry, I'd like you to meet Eldred Worple, an old student of mine, author of 'Blood Brothers: My Life Amongst the Vampires' — and, of course, his friend Sanguini."

Worple, who was a small, stout, bespectacled man, grabbed Harry's hand and shook it enthusiastically; the vampire Sanguini, who was tall and emaciated with dark shadows under his eyes, merely nodded. He looked rather bored. A gaggle of girls was standing close to him, looking curious and excited.

"Harry Potter, I am simply delighted!" said Worple, peering shortsightedly up into Harry's face. "I was saying to Professor Slughorn only the other day, 'Where is the biography of Harry Potter for which we have all been waiting?' "

"Er," said Harry, "were you?"

"Just as modest as Horace described!" said Worple. "But seriously" — his manner changed; it became suddenly businesslike — "I would be delighted to write it myself — people are craving to know more about you, dear boy, craving! If you were prepared to grant me a few interviews, say in four- or five-hour sessions, why, we could have the book finished within months. And all with very little effort on your part, I assure you — ask Sanguini here if it isn't quite — Sanguini, stay here!" added Worple, suddenly stern, for the vampire had been edging toward the nearby group of girls, a rather hungry look in his eye. "Here, have a pasty," said Worple, seizing one from a passing elf and stuffing it into Sanguini's hand before turning his attention back to Harry.

"My dear boy, the gold you could make, you have no idea —"

"I'm definitely not interested," said Harry firmly, "and I've just seen a friend of mine, sorry."

Harry and Stella practically ran to where Hermione was standing with a tall redhead that Stella would know anywhere.

"Fred?" she asked, eyes wide and a smile on her face. "What are you doing here?"

"Mia invited me," Fred shrugged, looking rather pleased with himself.

"Brilliant," Stella smiled wide, knowing that Fred still held a flame for Hermione, who deserved to be happy, even if it wasn't with Theo.

"Hello, Professor Trelawney," Fred greeted.

Stella could smell cooking sherry but hadn't realized who it was coming from until the professor that she'd never had appeared beside her.

"I had the strongest urge to come see you, dear," Trelawney said to Stella.

"Erm- did you?" Stella asked, trying to step closer to Harry to escape the teacher.

"You should be careful of your left arm," the woman told her.

"Will do…" Stella nodded slowly as Fred, Hermione, and Harry tried not to laugh.

"Harry Potter!" said Professor Trelawney in deep, vibrant tones, noticing him for the first time.

"Oh, hello," said Harry unenthusiastically and it was Stella's turn to try to not laugh.

"My dear boy!" she said in a very carrying whisper. "The rumors! The stories! 'The Chosen One'! Of course, I have known for a very long time. . . . The omens were never good, Harry. . . . But why have you not returned to Divination? For you, of all people, the subject is of the utmost importance!"

"Ah, Sybill, we all think our subject's most important!" said a loud voice, and Slughorn appeared at Professor Trelawney's other side, his face very red, his velvet hat a little askew, a glass of mead in one hand and an enormous mince pie in the other. "But I don't think I've ever known such a natural at Potions!" said Slughorn, regarding Harry with a fond, if bloodshot, eye. "Instinctive, you know — like his mother! I've only ever taught a few with this kind of ability, I can tell you that, Sybill — why even Severus —"

And to Harry's horror and Stella's great amusement, Slughorn threw out an arm and seemed to scoop Snape out of thin air toward them.

"Stop skulking and come and join us, Severus!" hiccupped Slughorn happily. "I was just talking about Harry's exceptional potion-making! Some credit must go to you, of course, you taught him for five years!"

"Hello, sir," Stella smirked.

"Black," Snape greeted only her, sending a glare at Fred.

"It's natural ability!" shouted Slughorn. "You should have seen what he gave me, first lesson, Draught of Living Death — never had a student produce finer on a first attempt, I don't think even you, Severus —"

"Really?" said Snape quietly, his eyes still boring into Harry, who felt a certain disquiet.

The last thing Harry wanted was for Snape to start investigating the source of his newfound brilliance at Potions. Little did he know that Snape already was aware of why Harry was doing so well.

"Remind me what other subjects you're taking, Harry?" asked Slughorn.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms, Transfiguration, Herbology . . ."

"All the subjects required, in short, for an Auror," said Snape, with the faintest sneer; Stella was just surprised that Snape actually knew why Harry was taking those subjects.

"Yeah, well, that's what I'd like to do," said Harry defiantly.

"And a great one you'll make too!" boomed Slughorn.

"I don't think you should be an Auror, Harry," said Stella while shaking her head. Everybody looked at her. "Luna says the Aurors are part of the Rotfang Conspiracy, I thought everyone knew that. They're working to bring down the Ministry of Magic from within using a combination of Dark Magic and gum disease."

Harry inhaled half his mead up his nose as he started to laugh. Emerging from his goblet, coughing, sopping wet but still grinning, he saw something calculated to raise his spirits even higher: Draco Malfoy being dragged by the ear toward them by Argus Filch.

"Professor Slughorn," wheezed Filch, his jowls aquiver and the maniacal light of mischief-detection in his bulging eyes, "I discovered this boy lurking in an upstairs corridor. He claims to have been invited to your party and to have been delayed in setting out. Did you issue him with an invitation?"

Stella knew he just needed a cover. Malfoy pulled himself free of Filch's grip, looking furious.

"Alright, I wasn't invited!" he said angrily. "I was trying to gatecrash, happy?"

"No, I'm not!" said Filch, a statement at complete odds with the glee on his face. "You're in trouble, you are! Didn't the headmaster say that nighttime prowling's out, unless you've got permission, didn't he, eh?"

"That's all right, Argus, that's all right," said Slughorn, waving a hand. "It's Christmas, and it's not a crime to want to come to a party. Just this once, we'll forget any punishment; you may stay, Draco."

Filch's expression of outraged disappointment was perfectly predictable. Malfoy's smirk was in place again. And why was Snape looking at Malfoy as though both angry and . . . was it possible? . . . a little afraid? Harry looked to Stella, seeing her and Draco exchange a glance before looking anywhere but at each other and knew she'd planned something.

"I'd like a word with you, Draco," said Snape suddenly.

"Oh, now, Severus," said Slughorn, hiccupping again, "it's Christmas, don't be too hard —"

"I'm his Head of House, and I shall decide how hard, or otherwise, to be," said Snape curtly. "Follow me, Draco."

Draco nodded to Stella and she nodded back, a smirk on her face. Slughorn moved on and Harry, Hermione, and Fred all stared at Stella.

"Can't tell you," she told Harry and he let out a frustrated groan. "You'll know soon enough."

"What?" Hermione asked in confusion before screaming could be heard.

"They're singing my song," Stella's smirk turned into a sinister smile as they joined the crowd leaving the office to see what the commotion was.

There was water covering the floor, reminding Stella of second year. The first through third year Slytherins were all unharmed, Tracy having snuck them out of the common room to show them a secret pathway that led to the astronomy tower using Stella's map. Draco had been caught long enough ago that he couldn't be tied in and Stella had been with Harry for the past hour.

"What's happened?" Slughorn demanded as Snape and Draco came running back to the crowd.

More screaming was heard and Snape ran ahead of everyone. Draco moved to Stella's side and the two bumped elbows, smirking all too proudly of themselves before both shivered and controlled their expressions. They rushed forward as well, the others following suit.

"Stay back!" Snape yelled, McGonagall and Dumbledore having joined them now.

"How many inside?" Dumbledore asked, wand raised.

"All of them," Snape breathed, looking panicked.

"What's happening?" Tracy asked, appearing with the younger students.

"Don't know," Stella shook her head, looking confused.

"Where were you?" Snape demanded from Tracy.

"I was showing the younger students a few shortcuts to classes. They're having a rough year after all."

"Stella?" Baker asked, going to her side.

"Let's all step back!" Stella yelled, waving her arms and forcing everyone to step away from the door.

"Ready," Dumbledore told Snape and McGonagall and they nodded, bubblehead charms in place.

The door opened and water began sloshing out before Dumbledore waved his wand, forcing it to stop. Snape and McGonagall jumped into the water, wands raised. Merpeople began pushing students out of the room and into the hall, Pomfrey appearing and healing students as they came out. Stella stepped forward, rolling her eyes before helping Pomfrey. Most of the Slytherins had been removed now, most having been in their rooms when it had happened and safe when the glass separating the Slytherin common room from the Black Lake had shattered suddenly, random explosions having taken it out.

Those that had been in the common room however…

Pomfrey was working hard over Parkinson and Greengrass. They had burn marks on them and had swallowed multiple mouthfuls of water. Stella took over the less injured students who hadn't been as close to the explosion. She forced the water out of their lungs so they were able to breathe again before passing them to Draco to move out of the way.

She'd yet to see Crabbe, Goyle, or Bulstrode as the water began to receded. Stella guessed that Snape and McGonagall had fixed the glass now and were pushing the water out of the common room. Crabbe, Goyle, and Bulstrode were the last ones pushed out, having the same injuries as Parkinson and Greengrass.

'Good,' Stella thought to herself as Snape and Dumbledore began working on them.

They were taken on floating stretchers to the hospital wing and Stella stepped into the common room, finding the glass completely intact again. She walked carefully inside, looking around to see the water damage and waving her wand, fixing the damage a bit and making sure there was no evidence left behind from how she'd done it. Draco walked beside her lazily, waving his wand with her. Flitwick and Sprout ran in, searching the room for evidence and shooing Stella and Draco out.

"Well, I think I'm all partied out," Stella sighed, kicking off her heels.

"Me as well," Draco nodded, picking Stella's heels off the floor for her before turning to the younger students. "Sleep over in the abandoned classroom down the hall. Let's go."

The students followed Stella, Draco, and Tracy away, only Harry, Fred, and Hermione seeing the looks on their faces. They all looked… mad. Not angry mad, but off their rockers, out of marbles to lose, mad.

Stella was standing in the kitchen of the Burrow peeling sprouts when Harry finally got her alone. She'd sat with Draco and Tracy on the train and, as much as Harry wanted answers, there was no way he was going to spend any sort of time in Draco's presence if he could help it.

"Want to tell me what's going on now?" Harry asked.

"I'd like to know that as well," Snape's voice spoke up, causing Harry to jump and Stella to freeze, her blood running cold.

How in the bloody hell had he figured it out? Stella turned slowly, setting the knife down as she did so. Snape's nostrils were flaring, even with Remus's hand on his shoulder.

"You could have killed them," Snape hissed out.

Stella had never seen him so mad before. He had this murderous glint in his eyes and Stella wanted to know how he'd figured it out.

"Stella Nova, tell me that Severus is mistaken?" Remus asked and she could already hear the disappointment in his voice, as if he already knew the answer.

"What are we talking about?" Stella asked, wanting to know exactly what she needed to take credit for.

"Moonseed poisoning," Snape hissed out and Stella slapped her forehead, having completely forgotten she'd poisoned the group earlier in the day so it would be harder to heal them.

"I forgot I did that," she groaned.

"You forgot?" Snape asked, taking a step closer to her; he was still across the room but Stella still flinched.

"How'd you figure it out?" she asked him curiously.

"I saw you slip it into their drinks," Snape hissed. "Didn't know what it was until I saw it on their diagnostics."

"Damn. I'd been so sneaky up until now," Stella sighed, leaning back against the sink.

"What else have you done?" Remus demanded, shock on his face.

"All of it," Stella smirked, staring directly at Snape. "And I'm nowhere near done."

"You are done—"

"No."

"- or Albus will expel you," Snape finished his sentence. "I won't tell him the extent of the damage you've caused but he knows the poisoning was you. I had to tell him the moment I realized it."

"Are they all alive?" Stella asked curiously.

"They will survive," Snape nodded, deflating a bit and thinking the conversation was through.

It was. Just not in the way he wanted.

"Damn," she sighed. "I was hoping to get at least one of them."

"What?" Harry asked, eyes wide.

"What happened to the girl that said the sins of the parents did not reflect on the children?" Snape demanded. "I know that their parents are Death Eaters but you yourself have defended them by claiming they are not their parents."

"And I was right. They are not their parents. They are their own people and as their own people, they decided to laugh at the death of my best friend and father and the critical injuries of my other best friend," Stella was slowly walking towards Snape as his eyes widened. "They mimic how they think Sirius and Blaise died when they don't know I'm disillusioned in the corner of the common room. They take bets on how long it'll take before Theo succumbs to his wounds. They call them blood traitors and laugh as they say that they got what they deserved. They plot and plan to use me to get to Harry so that they can turn him over to Voldemort.

"You should be proud of my restraint. This is me being nice about it. You are lucky that they are all still breathing and that I have not taken over residence in Sirius's old cell in Azkaban for it. You will be lucky if, by the end of the year, I haven't slit all of their throats myself."

Stella brushed pass Severus and Remus, head held high and a sneer on her face. Harry followed after her a moment later, the two climbing the stairs to Stella's old room. She took her shirt off the moment she entered her room, pulling on one of Theo's old sweaters instead. Harry had looked away when she'd stripped. Stella fell onto her bed, hands shaking and teeth chattering together.

Harry sat on the edge of her bed, watching her carefully. They sat silently for a few minutes before Harry took Stella's shaking hand in his steady one. He laid back with her, their shoulders overlapping a bit.

"I should have known you were protecting me," he whispered into the silence. "I should have guessed that it had something to do with Sirius, Blaise and Theo, too."

"I should have just told you so you could have calmed me down," Stella told him in response.

"Oh, I would have volunteered to help," Harry told her. "Can I still or are you done?"

"Nothing major left," Stella shrugged. "I've got a laughing potion and a few pranks up my sleeve but that's it. Oh! A Hate Potion. I forgot about that one. I'm saving it until the end of the year. Just in time for exams. Draco's helping me brew it."

"Brilliant," Harry smirked, head turned to the side so he could stare at her.

"Aren't you scared of me?" Stella asked him in confusion.

"Scared? Stella, you're marvelous," Harry told her with a shake of his head, a look of awe on his face. "You… I can't believe you've done all of this to protect me."

"I would do anything for you, Harry," Stella shook her head this time.

The two laid there, staring at one another for a long moment before Stella blushed, looking away.

"Do you think he hates me now?" Stella asked.

"Who? Snape?" Harry clarified and Stella nodded. "I don't think he could ever hate you. I think he thinks of you as a daughter. He may be mad that you almost killed them and disappointed that you didn't go to him about what was happening, but he doesn't hate you."

Stella nodded before moving closer to Harry. She rested her head on Harry's shoulder. Harry kissed the top of her head, still clutching her hands as the two stayed hidden for the rest of the night.

Christmas Eve night, the Weasleys and their guests were sitting in the living room, which Ginny and Stella had decorated so lavishly that it was rather like sitting in a paper-chain explosion. Stella, Fred, George, Harry, and Ron were the only ones who knew that the angel on top of the tree was actually a garden gnome that had bitten Fred on the ankle as he pulled up carrots for Christmas dinner. Stupefied, painted gold, stuffed into a miniature tutu and with small wings glued to its back, it glowered down at them all, the ugliest angel Stella had ever seen, with a large bald head like a potato and rather hairy feet.

They were all supposed to be listening to a Christmas broadcast by Molly's favorite singer, Celestina Warbeck, whose voice was warbling out of the large wooden wireless set. Fleur, who seemed to find Celestina very dull, was talking so loudly in the corner that a scowling Molly kept pointing her wand at the volume control, so that Celestina grew louder and louder. Under cover of a particularly jazzy number called "A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love," Fred and George started a game of Exploding Snap with Ginny. Ron kept shooting Bill and Fleur covert looks, as though hoping to pick up tips. Meanwhile, Remus, who was thinner and more ragged-looking than ever, was sitting beside the fire, staring into its depths as though he could not hear Celestina's voice.

"We danced to this when we were eighteen!" said Molly, wiping her eyes on her knitting. "Do you remember, Arthur?"

"Mphf?" said Mr. Weasley, whose head had been nodding over the satsuma he was peeling. "Oh yes . . . marvelous tune . . ."

Stella was watching Remus and he must have finally felt her gaze upon him because he looked directly at her all of a sudden. Or maybe he'd just been looking over to make sure she wasn't trying to drown anyone. She tilted her head towards the door and Remus nodded. The two stepped outside, wrapped in sweaters and scarves as they sat on the bench in the garden.

"Go ahead. Tell me I've gone too far," Stella told him as the silence stretched far too long for her liking.

"I can't," he sighed. "I should but I can't."

"Did you tell Professor Snape that?"

"I did."

"Is that why you look like someone broke your broom?"

"It is."

"I'm sorry…"

"No," Remus shook his head, putting his arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. "He'll calm down and we'll talk."

"I shouldn't have gone that far," Stella disagreed. "It was stupid."

"How'd you manage it?" he asked curiously. "Severus said it had to have been some seriously strong magic to break that glass."

"Turns out that help actually is given to those at Hogwarts if they ask," Stella smirked. "I was disillusioned in the common room so often that no one noticed when I just asked the school for help. If you're nice and convincing enough, the school will provide."

"Huh," Remus nodded, looking a bit dumbfounded.

"The stairs were my first tip off. I was bleeding badly after…. An incident last year that we do not need to discuss at this moment. The stairs took me to the third floor so that I was by the hospital wing without having to move around too much. Very helpful when you're bleeding out."

"We really will need to discuss all of your trauma at some point," Remus grumbled.

"You first," Stella smirked.

They walked back into the Burrow to find Fleur imitating Celestina's singing. Stella and the others took that as their cue to head to bed. Harry snuck into Stella's room, letting out a huff as he fell into the bed beside her. Stella just smiled and rolled her eyes before cuddling into his side.

They woke to find both of their stocking at the ends of Stella's bed. She wondered if Mum knew that her magic had sent Harry's stocking to her room or not as she changed into her sweater, which looked almost the exact same as Harry's, his green and hers red. She smirked as Harry stared at the color before glaring at the one on Stella.

"Give me that one," he demanded.

"No way," she smirked. "I've already put this one on. I'm quite comfortable."

"Give it," Harry growled playfully, rushing her and tackling her backwards on the bed.

"No!" Stella yelled, laughing as Harry tickled her sides.

"Give it!" Harry yelled and Stella tried to wiggle away from him to no avail; he was much stronger than she'd given him credit for.

They were both breathing heavily from laughing, Stella's sweater half pushed up her body so her stomach was on display. She was laying on her side, facing away from Harry as he cuddled her back, presents forgotten at the end of the bed now. Harry kissed her cheek and sat up, looking at the exposed skin of her back before freezing.

"Stell?" he asked, voice shaking.

"Hmm?" she asked, rolling over so she could see him.

"What happened to your back?" he asked.

Stella's eyes widened, having completely forgot about the scars there. She couldn't even see them so it was hard to remember that they were there. She sat up slowly, seeing Harry's anger rising.

"Did it happen at the ministry?" he asked her.

"No," she shook her head.

"Was it the Slytherins?" he asked jumping up from the bed and pulling his wand out. "I'll kill them myself."

"It wasn't the Slytherins," Stella jumped up, grabbing Harry's hand.

Harry turned to her, eyes wide and wild.

"Who?" he asked her.

"Umbitch and Filthy Filch," she told him. "The day Fred and George left the school. Filch had just gotten permission to whip students as punishment. I got ten lashings for each of them and ten more because she thought I'd helped them."

"I'll kill her," he growled out.

"No," Stella pulled him close, arms wrapping around his waist. "Leave the darkness to me. She's gone now anyways. If we ever see her again, I give my full consent to you shooting a hex at her."

"Fine," Harry grumbled. "What about Filch?"

"Oh, he's getting trick treats for Christmas from her," Stella smirked. "Won't know what hit him."

Harry smiled down at her and they headed down the stairs, deciding to save the rest of their gifts for later. They stopped in Ron's room, Harry just walking in with Stella behind him.

"She's got to be joking…"

Stella and Harry walked closer, trying to get a closer look at what was in Ron's hands. A thick gold chain with something hanging from it.

"What's that?" asked Harry.

"It's from Lavender," said Ron, sounding revolted. "She can't honestly think I'd wear…"

Stella and Harry had finally gotten a good look at the thing and promptly burst out laughing. Dangling from the chain in large gold letters were the words: 'My Sweetheart.'

"Nice," Harry got out.

"Classy," Stella agreed.

"You should definitely wear it around Fred and George."

"If either of you tell them," said Ron shoving the necklace out of sight under his pillow, "I- I- I'll—"

"Stutter at us?" said Harry, grinning. "Come on, would I?"

"How could she think I'd like something like that, though?" Ron demanded of thin air, looking rather shocked.

"Well, think back," said Harry. "Have you ever let it slip that you'd like to go out in public with the words 'My Sweetheart' round your neck?"

"Well . . . we don't really talk much," said Ron. "It's mainly . . ."

"Snogging," said Harry.

"Well, yeah," Ron nodded.

"Let's go eat breakfast," Stella smirked, taking Harry's hand and pulling him out of the room.

Everybody was wearing new sweaters when they all sat down for Christmas lunch, Fleur's and Molly's made by Stella, Stella having figured out that Molly wasn't making Fleur one two days ago so she'd gotten to work. Molly was sporting a brand-new midnight blue witch's hat glittering with what looked like tiny starlike diamonds, and a spectacular golden necklace.

"Fred and George gave them to me! Aren't they beautiful?"

"Well, we find we appreciate you more and more, Mum, now we're washing our own socks," said George, waving an airy hand. "Parsnips, Remus?"

"Gravy, Fleur?"

In Ron's eagerness to help her, he knocked the gravy boat flying; Bill waved his wand and the gravy soared up in the air and returned meekly to the boat.

"You are as bad as zat Tonks," said Fleur to Ron, when she had finished kissing Bill in thanks. "She is always knocking —"

"I invited darling Tonks to come along today," said Molly, setting down the carrots with unnecessary force and glaring at Fleur. "But she wouldn't come. Have you spoken to her lately, Remus?"

"No, I haven't been in contact with anybody very much," said Remus. "But Tonks has got her own family to go to, hasn't she?"

"Hmmm," said Molly. "Maybe. I got the impression she was planning to spend Christmas alone, actually."

She gave Remus an annoyed look, as though it was all his fault she was getting Fleur for a daughter-in-law instead of Tonks, but Stella knew the real reason. Molly was trying to help Tonks couple up with Remus but he simply wasn't having it. Stella wondered how she was the only one who had realized that Remus was gay. Then again, she'd only figured it out because of Severus.

"Tonks's Patronus has changed its form," Stella told Remus. "Professor Snape said so anyway. I didn't know that could happen. Why would your Patronus change?"

Remus took his time chewing his turkey and swallowing before saying slowly, "Sometimes . . . a great shock . . . an emotional upheaval . . ."

"It looked big, and it had four legs," said Harry, noticing the glance that Stella and Remus shared and Stella knew he'd be questioning her later.

"Arthur!" said Molly suddenly. She had risen from her chair; her hand was pressed over her heart and she was staring out of the kitchen window. "Arthur — it's Percy!"

"What?"

Arthur looked around. Everybody looked quickly at the window; Ginny stood up for a better look. There, sure enough, was Percy Weasley, striding across the snowy yard, his horn-rimmed glasses glinting in the sunlight. He was not, however, alone.

"Arthur, he's — he's with the Minister!"

Before any of them could say anything, before Molly and Arthur could do more than exchange stunned looks, the back door opened and there stood Percy. There was a moment's painful silence. Then Percy said rather stiffly, "Merry Christmas, Mother."

"Oh, Percy!" said Mrs. Weasley, and she threw herself into his arms.

Rufus Scrimgeour paused in the doorway, leaning on his walking stick and smiling as he observed this affecting scene.

"You must forgive this intrusion," he said, when Molly looked around at him, beaming and wiping her eyes. "Percy and I were in the vicinity — working, you know — and he couldn't resist dropping in and seeing you all."

But Percy showed no sign of wanting to greet any of the rest of the family. He stood, poker-straight and awkward-looking, and stared over everybody else's heads. Arthur, Fred, and George were all observing him, stony-faced. Percy's eyes did land on Stella, who just stared back at him blankly.

"Please, come in, sit down, Minister!" fluttered Molly, straightening her hat. "Have a little purkey, or some tooding. . . . I mean —"

"No, no, my dear Molly," said Scrimgeour. Stella guessed that he had checked her name with Percy before they entered the house. "I don't want to intrude, wouldn't be here at all if Percy hadn't wanted to see you all so badly. . . ."

"Oh, Perce!" said Molly tearfully, reaching up to kiss him.

". . . We've only looked in for five minutes, so I'll have a stroll around the yard while you catch up with Percy. No, no, I assure you I don't want to butt in! Well, if anybody cared to show me your charming garden . . . Ah, that young man's finished, why doesn't he take a stroll with me?"

"No," Stella immediately answered as the minister stared at Harry.

"It's alright," Harry whispered to her.

"Not. Alone."

"Come on," Harry took Stella's hand gently, seeing the pleading look in her eyes and remembering everything that she'd told him that morning. "It's fine," Harry told Remus, who had half risen from his chair. "Fine," he added to Arthur, who had opened his mouth to speak. "I'll have Stella with me."

"Wonderful!" said Scrimgeour, standing back to let Harry and Stella pass through the door ahead of him. "We'll just take a turn around the garden, and Percy and I'll be off. Carry on, everyone!"

Harry and Stella walked across the yard toward the Weasleys' overgrown, snow-covered garden, Scrimgeour limping slightly at Harry's other side. He had, Stella knew, been Head of the Auror office; he looked tough and battle-scarred, very different from portly Fudge in his bowler hat.

"Charming," said Scrimgeour, stopping at the garden fence and looking out over the snowy lawn and the indistinguishable plants. "Charming."

Stella and Harry said nothing. They could tell that Scrimgeour was watching Harry.

"I've wanted to meet you for a very long time," said Scrimgeour, after a few moments. "Did you know that?"

"No," said Harry truthfully.

"Oh yes, for a very long time. But Dumbledore has been very protective of you," said Scrimgeour. "Natural, of course, natural, after what you've been through. . . . Especially what happened at the Ministry . . ."

Stella's hand tightened around Harry's and he gave a gentle squeeze, letting her know he was there.

Scrimgeour waited for Harry to say something, but Harry did not oblige, so he went on, "I have been hoping for an occasion to talk to you ever since I gained office, but Dumbledore has — most understandably, as I say — prevented this."

Still, Harry said nothing, waiting.

"The rumors that have flown around!" said Scrimgeour. "Well, of course, we both know how these stories get distorted . . . all these whispers of a prophecy . . . of you being 'the Chosen One'. . ."

They were getting near it now, Harry thought, the reason Scrimgeour was here.

". . . I assume that Dumbledore has discussed these matters with you?"

"Yeah, we've discussed it."

Stella worked hard to not show her shock on her face. She'd have questions for Harry now the moment they were alone.

"Have you, have you . . ." said Scrimgeour. Harry could see, out of the corner of his eye, Scrimgeour squinting at him, so he pretended to be very interested in a gnome that had just poked its head out from underneath a frozen rhododendron. "And what has Dumbledore told you, Harry?"

"Sorry, but that's between us," said Harry. He kept his voice as pleasant as he could, and Scrimgeour's tone, too, was light and friendly as he said, "Oh, of course, if it's a question of confidences, I wouldn't want you to divulge… no, no… and in any case, does it really matter whether you are 'the Chosen One' or not?"

Harry had to mull that one over for a few seconds before responding. "I don't really know what you mean, Minister."

"Well, of course, to you it will matter enormously," said Scrimgeour with a laugh. "But to the Wizarding community at large . . . it's all perception, isn't it? It's what people believe that's important."

Harry said nothing and Stella watched on, her wand just inside her sweater in case she needed it.

"People believe you are 'the Chosen One,' you see," said Scrimgeour. "They think you quite the hero — which, of course, you are, Harry, chosen or not! How many times have you faced He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named now? Well, anyway," he pressed on, without waiting for a reply, "the point is, you are a symbol of hope for many, Harry. The idea that there is somebody out there who might be able, who might even be destined, to destroy He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named — well, naturally, it gives people a lift. And I can't help but feel that, once you realize this, you might consider it, well, almost a duty, to stand alongside the Ministry, and give everyone a boost.

"What say you, Harry?"

"I don't exactly understand what you want," said Harry slowly. " 'Stand alongside the Ministry' . . . What does that mean?"

"Oh, well, nothing at all onerous, I assure you," said Scrimgeour. "If you were to be seen popping in and out of the Ministry from time to time, for instance, that would give the right impression. And of course, while you were there, you would have ample opportunity to speak to Gawain Robards, my successor as Head of the Auror office. Dolores Umbridge has told me that you cherish an ambition to become an Auror. Well, that could be arranged very easily. . . ."

"So basically," Harry said, as though he just wanted to clarify a few points, but Stella felt his body tense when he heard Umbridge's name, "you'd like to give the impression that I'm working for the Ministry?"

"It would give everyone a lift to think you were more involved, Harry," said Scrimgeour, sounding relieved that Harry had cottoned on so quickly. " 'The Chosen One,' you know . . . It's all about giving people hope, the feeling that exciting things are happening. . . ."

"But if I keep running in and out of the Ministry," said Harry, still endeavoring to keep his voice friendly, "won't that seem as though I approve of what the Ministry's up to?"

"Well," said Scrimgeour, frowning slightly, "well, yes, that's partly why we'd like —"

"No, I don't think that'll work," said Harry pleasantly and Stella smirked. "You see, I don't like some of the things the Ministry's doing. Locking up Stan Shunpike, for instance."

Scrimgeour did not speak for a moment but his expression hardened instantly. "I would not expect you to understand," he said, and he was not as successful at keeping anger out of his voice as Harry had been. "These are dangerous times, and certain measures need to be taken. You are sixteen years old —"

"Dumbledore's a lot older than sixteen, and he doesn't think Stan should be in Azkaban either," said Harry. "You're making Stan a scapegoat, just like you want to make me a mascot."

They looked at each other, long and hard. Finally Scrimgeour said, with no pretense at warmth, "I see. You prefer — like your hero, Dumbledore — to disassociate yourself from the Ministry?"

"I don't want to be used," said Harry.

"Some would say it's your duty to be used by the Ministry!"

"Yeah, and others might say it's your duty to check that people really are Death Eaters before you chuck them in prison," said Harry, his temper rising now. "You're doing what Barty Crouch did. You never get it right, you people, do you? Either we've got Fudge, pretending everything's lovely while people get murdered right under his nose, or we've got you, chucking the wrong people into jail and trying to pretend you've got 'the Chosen One' working for you!"

"So you're not 'the Chosen One'?" said Scrimgeour.

"I thought you said it didn't matter either way?" said Harry, with a bitter laugh. "Not to you anyway."

"I shouldn't have said that," said Scrimgeour quickly. "It was tactless —"

"No, it was honest," said Harry. "One of the only honest things you've said to me. You don't care whether I live or die, but you do care that I help you convince everyone you're winning the war against Voldemort. I haven't forgotten, Minister..."

He raised his right fist. There, shining white on the back of his cold hand, were the scars which Dolores Umbridge had forced him to carve into his own flesh: I must not tell lies.

"I don't remember you rushing to my defense when I was trying to tell everyone Voldemort was back. The Ministry wasn't so keen to be pals last year."

They stood in silence as icy as the ground beneath their feet. The gnome had finally managed to extricate his worm and was now sucking on it happily, leaning against the bottommost branches of the rhododendron bush.

"What is Dumbledore up to?" said Scrimgeour brusquely. "Where does he go when he is absent from Hogwarts?"

"No idea," said Harry.

"And you wouldn't tell me if you knew," said Scrimgeour, "would you?"

"No, I wouldn't," said Harry.

"Well, then, I shall have to see whether I can't find out by other means."

"You can try," said Harry indifferently. "But you seem cleverer than Fudge, so I'd have thought you'd have learned from his mistakes. He tried interfering at Hogwarts. You might have noticed he's not Minister anymore, but Dumbledore's still headmaster. I'd leave Dumbledore alone, if I were you."

There was a long pause.

"Well, it is clear to me that he has done a very good job on you," said Scrimgeour, his eyes cold and hard behind his wire-rimmed glasses. "Dumbledore's man through and through, aren't you, Potter?"

"Yeah, I am," said Harry. "Glad we straightened that out."

And turning his back on the Minister of Magic, he strode back toward the house, Stella still by his side and holding his hand.

Late in the afternoon, a few days after New Year, Stella, Harry, Ron, and Ginny lined up beside the kitchen fire to return to Hogwarts. The ministry had arranged this one-off connection to the Floo Network to return students quickly and safely to the school. Only Molly was there to see them off, everyone else at work. Molly dissolved into tears at the moment of parting. Admittedly, it took very little to set her off lately; she had been crying on and off ever since Percy had stormed from the house on Christmas Day with his glasses splattered with mashed parsnip (for which Fred, George, and Ginny all claimed credit).

"Don't cry, Mum," said Ginny, patting her on the back as Molly sobbed into her shoulder. "It's okay. . . ."

"Yeah, don't worry about us," said Ron, permitting his mother to plant a very wet kiss on his cheek, "or about Percy. He's such a prat, it's not really a loss, is it?"

Molly sobbed harder than ever as she enfolded Harry in her arms.

"Promise me you'll look after yourself. . . . Stay out of trouble. . . ."

"I always do, Mrs. Weasley," said Harry. "I like a quiet life, you know me."

She gave a watery chuckle before hugging Stella tightly, pulling away gently and placing her hand on Stella's cheek, giving her a soft smile. Finally, she stood back.

"Be good, then, all of you. . . ."

"Hogwarts!" Stella called out, appearing in Snape's office. "What's up, sir?"

"My blood pressure every time you come around," he answered.

"That's fair," she shrugged, plopping into her normal seat. "So, do I get detention for the rest of the year? Quidditch privileges revoked? No more Hogsmeade?"

"After speaking with Albus, we have decided that, as long as you do not harm anyone again, we will leave it be," Snape told her.

"What?" Stella asked, confused.

"I explained to him what you'd overheard and Miss Davis confirmed that she'd also heard it. Given the circumstances and the… loses that you've suffered… we've decided to give you a pass. If something like this happens again, you will be expelled and your wand will be snapped," he told her.

"… well alright then," Stella nodded. "I actually only had little pranks left to be honest with you."

"As long as you do not injury anyone again, I will not step in."

"Thank you, Dad…" Stella said quietly as she walked out of the room.

She didn't see Snape freeze up, eyes growing wide and a tear escaping him.

The Slytherins were all back in the common room, minus Parkinson, Crabbe, Goyle, Bulstrode, and Greengrass, who had the most injuries and would not be returning until after the first week of term, giving Stella, Tracy, and Draco plenty of time to enjoy the peace and quiet in their absence.

On the first day of classes, apparation lessons were announced. All that day there was much talk about the forthcoming lessons; a great deal of store was set by being able to vanish and reappear at will. Stella was sticking to the Gryffindors, Tracy walking along beside her, neither caring about keeping up appearances anymore.

"How cool will it be when we can just —" Seamus clicked his fingers to indicate disappearance. "Me cousin Fergus does it just to annoy me, you wait till I can do it back . . . He'll never have another peaceful moment. . . ."

Lost in visions of this happy prospect, he flicked his wand a little too enthusiastically, so that instead of producing the fountain of pure water that was the object of today's Charms lesson, he let out a hose-like jet that ricocheted off the ceiling and knocked Professor Flitwick flat on his face.

"Harry's already Apparated," Ron told a slightly abashed Seamus, after Professor Flitwick had dried himself off with a wave of his wand and set Seamus lines: "I am a wizard, not a baboon brandishing a stick." "Dum — er — someone took him. Side-Along-Apparition, you know."

"Stella was with me," Harry spoke up quickly.

"Neville's apparated, too," Stella added, putting the limelight on him instead.

Neville blushed and sputtered a bit before answering questions asked by their classmates, all excited and wide eyed.

The next morning, Harry was debating with Hermione and Ron over getting something from Slughorn, none of them seeing her walking towards them.

"He loves you," Ron said, waving an airy forkful of fried egg. "Won't refuse you anything, will he? Not his little Potions Prince. Just hang back after class this afternoon and ask him."

Hermione, however, took a gloomier view.

"He must be determined to hide what really happened if Dumbledore couldn't get it out of him," she said in a low voice, as they stood in the deserted, snowy courtyard at break. "Horcruxes . . . Horcruxes . . . I've never even heard of them. . . ."

"What are we talking about?" Stella asked curiously as she sat beside Harry and all three clammed up. "Well, alright then. I'll see you lot later."

Stella went to the library, looking for any book that contained the word 'horcrux.' She found nothing and she thought the word over. It must be something dark and it had something to do with Slughorn. She'd ask Snape later what it was and research based on his reaction.

It was after potions class where Harry had used a bezoar to get points in class that Harry finally told her everything. He told her about the memories he'd seen with Dumbledore, showing Voldemort growing up and why he was the way that he was. He told her about trying to figure out what horcruxes were from Slughorn, just for him to blow up at Harry. He also told her Ron's and Hermione's reactions and how disappointed he was. Stella had listened to all of it, taking it all in before letting out a long breath.

"Alright," Stella sighed. "Well, I overheard you say horcruxes at breakfast this morning and didn't find anything in the library. It almost sounds familiar though so I think I've read about them somewhere. I'll ask Kreacher to bring me any books on it if I can't get answers from Snape though. I was going to ask him what they were next lesson."

"That's all you have to say?" Harry asked curiously.

"I'm sure that Hermione is giving you logic while Ron is giving you jokes and strategies. I'm here to get you the information for the darker stuff apparently," Stella shrugged before seeing Harry's relieved expression. "And, of course, for you to vent."

"Thank you," Harry breathed, pulling Stella into a tight hug.

"Of course, Harry," Stella smiled, hugging him back just as tightly.

The snow melted around the school as February arrived, to be replaced by cold, dreary wetness. Purplish-gray clouds hung low over the castle and a constant fall of chilly rain made the lawns slippery and muddy. The upshot of this was that the sixth years' first Apparition lesson, which was scheduled for a Saturday morning so that no normal lessons would be missed, took place in the Great Hall instead of in the grounds. The Slytherins in their year had returned and Stella was rather annoyed that she and Draco were keeping their distance from each other again, not wanting them to catch on.

When Stella and Tracy arrived to the Great Hall, much to the annoyance of Pansy who had been trying to get Stella alone for two weeks now, they found that the tables had disappeared. Rain lashed against the high windows and the enchanted ceiling swirled darkly above them as they assembled in front of Professors McGonagall, Snape, Flitwick, and Sprout — the Heads of Houses — and a small wizard whom Stella took to be the Apparition instructor from the Ministry. He was oddly colorless, with transparent eyelashes, wispy hair, and an insubstantial air, as though a single gust of wind might blow him away.

"Good morning," said the Ministry wizard, when all the students had arrived and the Heads of Houses had called for quiet. "My name is Wilkie Twycross and I shall be your Ministry Apparition instructor for the next twelve weeks. I hope to be able to prepare you for your Apparition Tests in this time —"

"Malfoy, be quiet and pay attention!" barked Professor McGonagall.

Everybody looked around. Draco had flushed a dull pink; he looked furious as he stepped away from Crabbe, with whom he appeared to have been having a whispered argument. Draco moved away from Crabbe, going closer to Stella and Tracy instead.

"— by which time, many of you may be ready to take your tests," Twycross continued, as though there had been no interruption.

"As you may know, it is usually impossible to Apparate or Disapparate within Hogwarts. The headmaster has lifted this enchantment, purely within the Great Hall, for one hour, so as to enable you to practice. May I emphasize that you will not be able to Apparate outside the walls of this Hall, and that you would be unwise to try.

"I would like each of you to place yourselves now so that you have a clear five feet of space in front of you."

There was a great scrambling and jostling as people separated, banged into each other, and ordered others out of their space. The Heads of Houses moved among the students, marshaling them into position and breaking up arguments. Draco took the spot beside Stella and Crabbe took the spot beside him, looking rather determined. Stella noticed Harry move to the spot behind Draco, listening in on the conversation.

"I don't know how much longer, all right?" Draco shot at Crabbe, oblivious to Harry standing right behind him. "It's taking longer than I thought it would."

Crabbe opened his mouth, but Draco appeared to second-guess what he was going to say. "Look, it's none of your business what I'm doing, Crabbe, you and Goyle just do as you're told and keep a lookout!"

"I tell my friends what I'm up to, if I want them to keep a lookout for me," Harry said, just loud enough for Draco to hear him.

Draco spun around on the spot, his hand flying to his wand, but at that precise moment the four Heads of House shouted, "Quiet!" and silence fell again. Draco turned slowly to face the front again, glancing over at Stella with wide eyes. She just shook her head and Draco nodded.

"Thank you," said Twycross. "Now then…"

He waved his wand. Old-fashioned wooden hoops instantly appeared on the floor in front of every student.

"The important things to remember when Apparating are the three D's!" said Twycross and a few snickers were heard around the room, including from Stella who Tracy threw an amused look at. "Destination, Determination, Deliberation!

"Step one: Fix your mind firmly upon the desired destination," said Twycross. "In this case, the interior of your hoop. Kindly concentrate upon that destination now."

Everybody looked around furtively to check that everyone else was staring into their hoop, then hastily did as they were told.

"Step two," said Twycross, "focus your determination to occupy the visualized space! Let your yearning to enter it flood from your mind to every particle of your body!

"Step three," called Twycross, "and only when I give the command . . . Turn on the spot, feeling your way into nothingness, moving with deliberation! On my command, now . . . one —"

Stella glanced around in shock, many other students doing the same thing. Snape looked a bit amused by the confusion and Stella gave him a gentle glare before looking at her hoop again.

" – two –"

Stella focused on the hoop, trying to feel her magic inside of her stirring.

"- THREE!"

Stella tripped when she turned and would have fallen over had Draco not just barely caught her. She gave him a thankful look. The whole Hall was suddenly full of staggering people; Neville was flat on his back; Ernie Macmillan, on the other hand, had done a kind of pirouetting leap into his hoop and looked momentarily thrilled, until he caught sight of Dean Thomas roaring with laughter at him.

"Never mind, never mind," said Twycross dryly, who did not seem to have expected anything better. "Adjust your hoops, please, and back to your original positions. . . ."

The second attempt was no better than the first. The third was just as bad. Not until the fourth did anything exciting happen. There was a horrible screech of pain and everybody looked around, terrified, to see Susan Bones of Hufflepuff wobbling in her hoop with her left leg still standing five feet away where she had started.

The Heads of House converged on her; there was a great bang and a puff of purple smoke, which cleared to reveal Susan sobbing, reunited with her leg but looking horrified.

"Splinching, or the separation of random body parts," said Wilkie Twycross dispassionately, "occurs when the mind is insufficiently determined. You must concentrate continuously upon your destination, and move, without haste, but with deliberation . . . thus."

Twycross stepped forward, turned gracefully on the spot with his arms outstretched, and vanished in a swirl of robes, reappearing at the back of the Hall.

"Remember the three D's," he said, "and try again. One — two — three—"

But an hour later, Susan's Splinching was still the most interesting thing that had happened. Twycross did not seem discouraged. Fastening his cloak at his neck, he merely said, "Until next Saturday, everybody, and do not forget: Destination. Determination. Deliberation."

With that, he waved his wand, Vanishing the hoops, and walked out of the Hall accompanied by Professor McGonagall. Talk broke out at once as people began moving toward the entrance hall.

"How did you do?" asked Ron, hurrying toward Harry and Stella. "I think I felt something the last time I tried — a kind of tingling in my feet."

"I didn't feel anything," Harry shrugged as Hermione joined them. "But I don't care about that now—"

"That's our cue," Stella sighed, pulling Tracy away.

"You know what he's up to?" Harry asked, sounding shocked.

"Yes and I'm not telling you what it is. Leave it," Stella told him.

Three lessons on, Apparition was proving as difficult as ever, though a few more people had managed to Splinch themselves, Stella herself included. Frustration was running high and there was a certain amount of ill-feeling toward Wilkie Twycross and his three D's, which had inspired a number of nicknames for him, the politest of which were Dogbreath and Dunghead.

Hogsmeade was cancelled on Ron's birthday and she'd heard him complaining a few times in the halls. She'd simply rolled her eyes and snuck an extra galleon into his pocket to cheer him up later.

Stella was standing at the end of Ron's bed, staring at him and waiting to hear what she was afraid of.

"Moonseed poisoning," Snape drawled, his and Dumbledore's eyes landing on Stella.

Stella closed her eyes, taking a few deep breaths before opening her eyes again. She looked to Snape and he knew it hadn't been her. She thought of the Slytherins possibly having figured her out and trying to get back at her but that didn't make sense. They would have no idea that Ron would drink Slughorn's mead. That left…

"I'll be back," Stella promised the others, who hadn't even looked up from Ron the entire time.

Stella strode out of the hospital wing, Snape following close behind her. Stella stunned Crabbe and Goyle quickly, neither even having the chance to turn towards her before she'd got the silent spells off. She walked in front of the wall three times before a door appeared. Snape followed her in and they walked through stacks upon stacks of abandoned things. She found Draco, muttering over that damned cabinet and shot a stinging hex at him.

"Ow!" he yelled, turning towards her and his eyes widening when he saw Snape behind Stella. "Stella, what?"

"Ron drank the mead," Stella growled out, teeth clinched together.

Stella grabbed Draco's collar and slammed him against the cabinet. Draco's eyes widened.

"Is he alright?"

"No, he isn't alright! He's in the hospital wing! Harry had to shove a bezoar down his throat!"

"I'm so sorry, Stella," Draco had tears running down his face. "So sorry. He wasn't the target. You know he wasn't."

"I should kill you where you stand."

"I'm your cousin," Draco whispered.

"Which is the only reason you are still alive," she hissed out. "This needs to stop, Draco. You are being sloppy and reckless. If anyone else gets hurt…"

"They won't," Draco shook his head quickly. "I swear. No more."

"Good. Now, take your potions," she commanded, turned on her heel, and left Draco there with Severus.

Stella went to the Headmaster's office, waiting in front of the gargoyle for Molly and Arthur to appear. She couldn't stand looking at Ron anymore. It hurt too much knowing she'd made the poison that had almost cost her brother his life.

Molly and Arthur came down and the three headed to the Hospital Wing, Molly holding Stella's hand tightly as they walked. They walked through the doors and Molly immediately wrapped Harry in a tight hug.

"Dumbledore's told us how you saved him with the bezoar," Molly sobbed. "Oh, Harry, what can we say? You save Ginny… you saved Stella… you saved Arthur… now you've saved Ron…"

"Don't be… I didn't…" Harry muttered awkwardly.

"Half our family does seem to owe you their lives, now I stop and think about it," Mr. Weasley said in a constricted voice. "Well, all I can say is that it was a lucky day for the Weasleys when Ron and Stella decided to sit in your compartment on the Hogwarts Express, Harry."

Madam Pomfrey reminded them of the six visitor limit and Hagrid, Harry, and Hermione left almost at once, leaving just the Weasley's (adopted and not) behind. Fred pulled Stella under his arm, holding her against him. They stood a silent vigil over Ron, standing close to one another and just watching over him.

Stella had signed up to commentate Quidditch matches and it turned out that she'd been chosen to commentate the Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff game. Snape told her as she was heading to the Great Hall to grab a quick breakfast before visiting Ron before classes. He was still asleep but she still wanted to make sure that he was still breathing. She knew how strong the potion was after all. She found him awake instead.

"Oh, thank Merlin!" she rushed to him, jumping onto his bed and pulling him into the tightest hug she'd possibly ever given anyone. "Don't you ever scare me like that again."

She was not afraid to admit that she cried while hugging Ron, who just hugged her back, letting her get it all out. Stella had always been more emotional than Ginny and Molly, something that he'd picked on her for when they were kids, but now he sought her out at times for it. Especially in moments like this where he'd woken up in the Hospital Wing, alone and terrified that Harry might have been poisoned as well. Harry was his brother at that point, red hair didn't matter, especially conserving Stella's hair was as black as Harry's. He just fit.

Stella told him everything that Harry had told them and how Stella hadn't found any answers in Slytherin, meaning it hadn't been any of them. Pomfrey shooed her out of the Wing not long after, telling her to get to class. Stella had hugged Ron one last time before rushing off, smiling as she told Harry and Hermione that Ron was awake on the way to Charms.

On the morning of the Quidditch match, Luna looked a bit sad.

"What's wrong Luna?" Stella asked her.

"I wanted to commentate a game but I was told all the spots were full," Luna explained.

"Well, I'm commentating today's game. Want to do it with me?"

"Are you sure?" Luna asked, eyes widening.

"Of course," Stella smirked; she wouldn't miss Luna commentating for the world.

"And that's Smith of Hufflepuff with the Quaffle," said a dreamy voice, echoing over the grounds. "He did the commentary last time, of course. Stella Black-Weasley, you flew into him, I think probably on purpose, it looked like it. Smith was being quite rude about Gryffindor and you're very protective of them. I expect he regrets that now he's playing them — oh, he's lost the Quaffle, Ginny took it from him, I do like your sister, she's very nice…"

Stella had her hand over her mouth, lip almost bleeding from how hard she was biting down on it in the seat beside Luna. Definitely worth it.

"Cadwallader steals the Quaffle from Weasley, he's flying towards the goal post. McLaughingstock –"

"McLaggen!" McGonagall corrected.

"That's what I said, Professor," Stella shrugged. "McLaggen covering for Ronald Weasley this week aaaannnnnddddd – Cadwallader scores! Ten-zero Hufflepuff!"

"Can I click the button?" Luna asked into her megaphone.

"Sure, Luna," Stella answered with a smile.

"I do like buttons."

"Explains your earrings. You'll have to tell me where I can get a pair," Stella nodded before looking at the field again. "And Harry Potter's now having an argument with his Keeper." Hufflepuffs and Slytherins below in the crowd cheered and jeered. "I don't think that'll help him find the Snitch, but maybe it's a clever ruse. . . ."

Harry flew off after yelling at McLaggen, taking the hint from Stella to hurry up the game. It was a bit warm that day and she was starting to sweat.

"Weasley with the Quaffle. She shots… SHE SCORES! TEN-TEN!"

The game continued with Stella giving real commentary while having small discussions with Luna, who got to press the buttons every time.

"Seventy-forty to Hufflepuff!" Stella announced.

"Oh, look! McLaughy's got a hold of one of the beaters bats," Luna stated.

"McLaggen!"

"That's what she said Professor. McLoser trying to play any position other than his own with a beater bat in hand and- HARRY!"

McLaggen had hit a bludger directly at Harry, hitting him in the face and sending him to the ground. Stella was ready to run onto the field herself but Snape's hand on her shoulder forced her to sit back down.

"With the loss of the captain and seeker due to McDumba—"

"I'm warning you, Black!" McGonagall shouted.

"She's not wrong, Professor," Luna shrugged. "Hufflepuff shoots another point while the Gryffindor Keeper continues to not play Keeper. Ginny with the quaffle."

"Give them Hell, sister," Stella said into her megaphone, watching as Harry was carried off of the field.

Ginny took Stella's statement to heart and scored three more times, stealing the Quaffle twice.

"Ninety-seventy to Hufflepuff! They've been awarded a penalty shot for McLaggen's abuse towards the chaser while approaching the post and Cadwallader puts it away with no problem, bringing the score to a hundred to seventy in Hufflepuff's favor and… Smith's seen the snitch!"

"Or maybe he's noticed the cloud shaped like a hippogriff up there," Luna offered.

The final score ended up being at three hundred and twenty to eighty, Smith having just followed the snitch around a bit while his team scored more points. Stella headed straight to the Hospital Wing, finding Ron and Harry talking.

"I could hear the match commentary from here," said Ron, his voice shaking with laughter. "I hope Luna always commentates from now on. . . . Loser's Lurgy…"

"Are you okay?" Stella asked Harry as Ron laughed.

"No," he grumbled, pouting.

"Could be worse?" she tried.

"How?" he asked.

"You could have lost to me."

"I did lose to you."

"I meant Gryffindor could have lost to Slytherin as a whole. Not just the snitch."

"I guess," he sighed. "Who let Luna commentate?"

"I did," Stella smirked. "I was commentating the match and Luna looked put out because she'd wanted to do it just once. I told her we could share it."

"Brilliant," Ron smiled wide. "It should be the two of you every game."

"I need to go look over a potion but I wanted to check on you first," Stella told Harry. "Can the two of you stay out of trouble, please? I thought I was the trouble child. Jeez."

Stella left the hospital wing and went to Myrtle's bathroom, checking over the Hate Potion that took entirely too long to brew. Six months. Six months! She'd messed up the first batch before having to start over, which was why it had to wait until exams. She was making Polyjuice for Draco as well, which was wearing her down a bit with how large of batches she was doing. How Hermione managed it in their second year was beyond her. Then again, she'd only made one batch while Stella was making about seven.

Tuesday night, Harry dragged Stella to the Gryffindor tower and to his empty dorm room. A few of the Gryffindors smirked and snickered when they saw them and Stella knew what they were thinking but just shrugged at them, giving a smirk as she followed Harry. After they were sat on his bed, Harry began telling her all about his meeting with Dumbledore. Stella felt anger boiling in her blood at how Dumbledore had spoken to Harry. Harry was a student! If the memory was so damn important then Dumbledore could get it his damn self! Not make Harry feel bed and manipulate him for it! She expressed as much and Harry seemed confused, not having seen it that way.

"He gave me a task, Stell," Harry shook his head as she paced angrily in front of his bed. "I didn't do it. It's just important is all."

"I understand that it's important but Ron almost died and you're stressed from everything else going on. He doesn't need to add onto it. I'm sorry for interrupting though. I shouldn't have gotten so angry. Continue, please?"

Stella sat beside Harry again, listening as Harry told her everything. By the end of it, they were lying beside each other, curtain pulled closed and a silencing spell around the bed curtesy of Snape's old spell. Stella sighed.

"Well, after working a year in customer service, I almost don't blame him. I hear it's terrible," Stella nodded.

Harry let out a laugh at that, giving her a grateful look.

"However, jinxing the Defense position simply because he didn't get the job is a bit childish. Very Slytherin thing to do, though, so I'm not too surprised."

Another laugh.

"I asked Professor Snape what a horcrux was and he yelled at me," Stella sighed, laying her head on Harry's shoulder.

"I'm sure that was a new experience for you," Harry tried to joke.

"It's not, actually," she said, voice sounding far away.

Harry moved away a bit so he could get a look at her. Stella just shrugged and pulled Harry back to her, complaining that she'd been comfortable and causing him to laugh again. The two wrapped around one another, falling asleep and being woken by Ron complaining again.

"How many times do you have to find us sleeping together before you stop complaining?" Stella asked, grabbing robes and a tie quickly before using her wand to fix her hair. "See you in Defense."

Stella ate breakfast in the kitchen to avoid Parkinson and Greengrass before she ran to Defense class, having just finished dressing as she ran into the room and fell into her seat.

"Miss Black, I was unaware that you had changed houses? Shall I deduct points from Gryffindor for running through my classroom as you have?" Snape asked.

Stella looked at him in confusion and he glanced at her tie and then Harry's. Stella looked down seeing red and gold around her neck. She bit her lip, cheeks flushing a bit as she slowly took the tie off. She passed it to Ron, who passed it to Harry, her tie being passed along as well. Once they were both in correct uniform, Snape rolled his eyes. At the end of the class, Snape assigned a ridiculously long essay over how to defend themselves against dementors and Stella groaned as she sat in a chair in the library with a book on the patronus charm.

Next defense class was a bit annoying.

"Late again, Potter," said Snape coldly, as Harry hurried into the candlelit classroom. "Ten points from Gryffindor."

Half the class, Stella included, were still standing.

"Before we start, I want your dementor essays," said Snape, waving his wand carelessly, so that twenty-five scrolls of parchment soared into the air and landed in a neat pile on his desk. "And I hope for your sakes they are better than the tripe I had to endure on resisting the Imperius Curse. Now, if you will all open your books to page — what is it, Mr. Finnigan?"

"Sir," said Seamus, "I've been wondering, how do you tell the difference between an Inferius and a ghost? Because there was something in the paper about an Inferius —"

"No, there wasn't," said Snape in a bored voice.

"But sir, I heard people talking —"

"If you had actually read the article in question, Mr. Finnigan, you would have known that the so-called Inferius was nothing but a smelly sneak thief by the name of Mundungus Fletcher."

Harry whispered something that Stella couldn't hear.

"But Potter seems to have a lot to say on the subject," said Snape, pointing suddenly at the back of the room, his black eyes fixed on Harry "Let us ask Potter how we would tell the difference between an Inferius and a ghost."

The whole class looked around at Harry, who had paled slightly.

"Er — well — ghosts are transparent —" he said.

"Oh, very good," interrupted Snape, his lip curling. "Yes, it is easy to see that nearly six years of magical education have not been wasted on you, Potter. 'Ghosts are transparent.' "

Damn, Snape was in a mood.

Pansy Parkinson let out a high-pitched giggle. Several other people were smirking. Harry took a deep breath and continued calmly, though his insides were boiling, "Yeah, ghosts are transparent, but Inferi are dead bodies, aren't they? So they'd be solid —"

"A five-year-old could have told us as much," sneered Snape. "The Inferius is a corpse that has been reanimated by a Dark wizard's spells. It is not alive, it is merely used like a puppet to do the wizard's bidding. A ghost, as I trust that you are all aware by now, is the imprint of a departed soul left upon the earth . . . and of course, as Potter so wisely tells us, transparent."

"Well, what Harry said is the most useful if we're trying to tell them apart!" said Ron. "When we come face-to-face with one down a dark alley, we're going to be having a shufti to see if it's solid, aren't we, we're not going to be asking, 'Excuse me, are you the imprint of a departed soul?' "

There was a ripple of laughter, instantly quelled by the look Snape gave the class.

"Another ten points from Gryffindor," said Snape. "I would expect nothing more sophisticated from you, Ronald Weasley, the boy so solid he cannot Apparate half an inch across a room."

"No!" whispered Hermione, grabbing Harry's arm as he opened his mouth furiously. "There's no point, you'll just end up in detention again, leave it!"

"Now open your books to page two hundred and thirteen," said Snape, smirking a little, "and read the first two paragraphs on the Cruciatus Curse. . . ."

Stella stayed behind after class, determined to talk things out with Snape. She knew his foul mood couldn't solely be due to her. She hadn't heard from Remus in a while and she was rather worried and willing to bet that Snape hadn't heard from him either.

"Yes, Black?" Snape asked with a roll of his eyes.

"We haven't spoken in a while," she shrugged. "I was hoping we could."

"If this is about the horcr—"

"It's not," Stella interrupted quickly. "Typically I get detentions to spend time with you or just show up in your office. You've been avoiding me and going rather easy on me though."

"I believe I told you that as long as no one ends up being seriously maimed –"

"It's because I called you 'dad,' isn't it?" Stella blurted out. "I didn't mean to say it if that helps? You could have just told me to stay away rather than acting like I don't exist though. I got enough of that from Molly over the summers."

Stella turned and left the room, refusing to let Snape see her tears. Pansy was waiting in the hall though, and Stella jumped when she saw her, sniffling and wiping her tears away quickly.

"Hey," Stella choked out before clearing her throat. "What are you doing here?"

"Don't play stupid. You've been avoiding me," Pansy told her. "Why are you crying?"

"I'm not," Stella insisted, wiping her face and walking down the hall.

"What did he say to you?" Pansy demanded. "What happened over Christmas break? Is it because I got hurt? Look, Stella, I know that losing your father and Blaise has been hard on you but you can't push people away just because you're afraid of losing them."

"Afraid of losing you?!" Stella yelled and people stared at them. "You? Who laughs about the death of my best friend and father when she thinks I'm not around?! Who places bets on when Theo will die?! Who is using me to get to Harry Potter so she can hand him over to Voldemort?!"

Pansy stood shocked, face turning red.

"How do you—"

"I heard you!" Stella yelled, a lie on her lips so the dots wouldn't get connected that she'd been behind all the pranks. "Just before I left for Slughorn's party! You weren't exactly quiet about it! You were using me this whole time! All of you were! Well, I'm done defending people and taking care of people and caring for people who don't deserve it. Leave me alone or you'll regret the day you ever met me."

Stella turned and walked away. She ended up in Harry's bed, skipping classes for the rest of the day with the curtain closed. She'd cried on and off most of the day before Harry had opened his curtain and jumped at the sight of her, curled up as small as possible and eyes red under his blanket. Harry climbed into the bed beside her, pulling the curtain closed and pulling her close, letting her cry on his chest, having heard about the argument in the halls.

Stella took to wondering the castle rather than going to Slytherin common room. She would walk into Gryffindor tower every day after classes, do homework with Hermione, take a shower in Ginny's dorm, and then crawl into bed beside Harry, the curtain closed so the others didn't see her. She was the one avoiding Snape now, who had tried on multiple occasions to get her to stay behind after classes. Harry and Draco were the only people whose company she actively sought out anymore. Tracy was keeping her distance to hold her cover down and so the Slytherins wouldn't attack her in the halls more than they already did.

Stella, Harry, Ernie, and Draco were the only ones in Potions three weeks later, none being old enough to apparate yet. Well, Stella was old enough, but she refused to leave Harry and Draco alone in the castle together.

"All too young to Apparate just yet?" said Slughorn genially. "Not turned seventeen yet?"

They shook their heads.

"Ah well," said Slughorn cheerily, "as we're so few, we'll do something fun. I want you all to brew me up something amusing!"

"That sounds good, sir," said Ernie sycophantically, rubbing his hands together.

Draco, on the other hand, did not crack a smile.

"What do you mean, 'something amusing'?" he said irritably.

"Oh, surprise me," said Slughorn airily.

Stella bumped Draco's elbow gently, turning the pages in his book to one she knew he'd get a kick out of. He smirked before getting started. Stella looked through the book before deciding to just make a laughing potion. That would be considered 'amusing,' wouldn't it?

"A laughing potion!" Slughorn laughed without taking any of it. "Amusing, indeed! I see Professor Snape taught you well."

Stella's smile fell a bit before she recovered and simply nodded. Slughorn smiled at Draco's babbling potion before moving over to Harry and Ernie.

"Well, now, this looks absolutely wonderful," said Slughorn.

"Course it does," Stella rolled her eyes to Draco, both smirking.

"Euphoria, I take it? And what's that I smell? Mmmm . . . you've added just a sprig of peppermint, haven't you? Unorthodox, but what a stroke of inspiration, Harry, of course, that would tend to counterbalance the occasional side effects of excessive singing and nose-tweaking. . . . I really don't know where you get these brain waves, my boy . . . unless —"

Stella noticed Harry pushing his book further into his bag.

"— it's just your mother's genes coming out in you!"

"Oh . . . yeah, maybe," said Harry, relieved.

Ernie was looking rather grumpy; determined to outshine Harry for once, he had most rashly invented his own potion, which had curdled and formed a kind of purple dumpling at the bottom of his cauldron. The bell rang and Stella left with Draco, the two heading to the third floor quickly before anyone could see them. He was helping her with the Hate Potion as it was giving her fits at this point.

Draco left for the seventh floor and Stella began wondering around again. She saw Harry beaming as he walked towards her. She smiled back, giving him a confused look.

"What are you doing out and about?" she asked him but Harry said nothing, simply grabbed Stella's face and kissed her deeply.

Stella, caught completely off guard, gasped as Harry pressed her to a wall. After a minute, Harry slowly pulled away from Stella and she followed his lips with her own, trying to kiss for a bit longer.

"I have to go down to Hagrid's," he told her. "Will you wait in my room for me?"

"Yeah," Stella nodded, still a bit breathless.

"We're going to actually talk about our kiss this time 'round," he told her, giving her a rather pointed look.

"Oh- okay," she nodded.

Harry kissed her head and left. Stella stood, just watching him go. Even after he turned the corner, she still didn't move. She finally gave herself a shake and went off the Gryffindor common room, finding Ron and Hermione whispering urgently back and forth to one another.

"Um… what's going on?" Stella asked.

"Harry took Felix Felicis," Hermione sighed.

"To get the memory from Slughorn," Ron added to Stella's confused look.

"Oh, that explains it!" Stella slapped her forehead.

"Explains what?" Hermione asked, confused.

"I saw him in the hall on the way here. It's not important. Hermione, did you finish the Runes essay already? I'm having issues with one of the translations and was hoping for a bit of advice?"

"Of course!" Hermione agreed.

After finishing her Runes work, Stella snuck up to the dorm room and climbed into Harry's bed, pulling on the pajamas that she'd started keeping at the end of Harry's bed behind the curtain. She laid down but, as the night wore on, she grew more and more tired before her eyes closed of their own accord. She woke with a start when Harry climbed into the bed beside her but both were too tired to speak, just cuddling close and fell asleep.

The next morning, Stella and Harry were knotted so tightly around one another that Stella couldn't tell which limbs were hers and which were his. Harry woke her by kissing her head and she smiled up at him.

"So, how was Felix?" she asked, whispering so Ron wouldn't yell at them yet again.

"Very helpful," he admitted, voice also a whisper before he leaned down and kissed her lips gently.

"We're supposed to talk about it," she reminded him. "You said something about last time, as well."

"After the second task," Harry nodded.

"When you were too embarrassed to tell me it was just because of how relieved you were to see me?" Stella clarified.

"I just said that because I thought you were embarrassed by it," Harry admitted, seeming a bit confused.

"Oh, we're both idiots," Stella groaned, hiding her face in Harry's chest.

"How so?" he asked.

"Harry, I've had a crush on you since, like, second year," she admitted, looking into his eyes again.

"We are idiots," he agreed. "I've liked you since the end of first year."

They both let out quiet laughs and Stella looked back up again. Harry gave Stella another gentle kiss before she sat up, telling him she needed to go get ready for classes.

"Wait," his hand reached out, grabbing hers. "Are we- can we- will you—"

"Use your words, love," Stella smirked.

"Will you be my girlfriend?" Harry got out, face warming and seeming more nervous that Stella had ever seen him.

"I'd like that," Stella nodded.

She leaned in, kissing Harry slowly. Harry pulled her back to the bed, neither caring about classes in the moment as he laid half on top of her, the two kissing slowly. Stella decided to test the waters, giving Harry's bottom lip a small nip. Harry pressed further into Stella, the kisses turning a bit more frantic now.

Movement on the other side of the curtain caused them both to freeze. The loo door opened and closed and Stella had to bite her lip to keep from giggling.

"I should go," she whispered.

"Or we could skip classes and stay here all day," Harry offered.

"Because my brother, who is one bed over, would love that," Stella held in her giggle.

"Fine," Harry complained, kissing Stella once more before letting her up.

Stella gave Harry one last quick kiss before she tiptoed out of Gryffindor tower. She disillusioned herself as she went, sneaking into Slytherin common room to find Pansy crying beside Daphne.

"I actually liked her," Pansy sniffled.

"I know," Daphne nodded, holding Pansy close. "I told you it was a terrible plan. I knew you'd end up liking her."

"She hates me. I don't know how to fix it," Pansy began crying again and Stella left the room, rolling her eyes as she went.

She should probably feel bad for Pansy being so upset but she couldn't find it in her to care as she thought of Pansy pretending to be Blaise as Bulstrode, pretending to be Bellatrix, 'killed' her. Stella took a shower and dressed quickly, Sirius's and Blaise's wands in her hair as she walked down the stairs to the common room, not bothering to hide her presence anymore. Stella walked right by the other Slytherins and out of the common room, not caring in the slightest when Daphne and Millicent tried to get her attention.

Harry and Stella didn't tell anyone, wanting to figure things out at their own pace first. Plus, neither Harry nor Stella were excited at the idea of having to tell Ron. The only thing that threw a wrench into everything was Katie Bell returning to school. Stella was in the bathroom stall when Draco showed up, crying to Mrytle like he tended to do when he didn't know she was there.

Stella came out of the stall, going to Draco's side quickly.

"Stella… I can't do it anymore… I can't… I just want t-t-to give u-u-up," he sobbed.

"Don't give up, Dray," Stella told him, holding his face between her hands. "You can't give up. I'll find a way to get you and Narcissa to safety. You just have to hold on. Don't give up. Can you do that for me?"

Draco was shaking to hard, panicking. Stella ran to the stall, searching for a calming draught and still hearing Draco crying where she'd left him.

"No one can help me," Draco was saying. "I can't do it. . . . I can't. . . . It won't work . . . and unless I do it soon . . . he says he'll kill me. . . ."

Suddenly there was a silence before she heard spell fire. Stella ran out of the stall, finding Harry and Draco shooting spells at each other. She rushed forward tossing up a shield before just throwing herself into the mix, ducking as a sink exploded beside her.

"Cruci—"

"No!" Stella threw herself between them as Harry shouted, "SECTUMSEMPRA!"

Blood spurted from Stella's face and chest, as though she'd been slashed with an invisible sword. She stagged backwards and collapsed onto the waterlogged floor with a great splash, her wand falling from her grip.

"No!" Draco yelled, just barely catching Stella's head in his lap. "Stell… Cousin?"

"No…" Harry gasped, crawling over to them. "Stella, please… I didn't—"

"MURDER! MURDER IN THE BATHROOM! MURDER!" Mrytle was screaming.

The door banged open behind Harry and both boys looked up, terrified: Snape had burst into the room, his face livid. Pushing Harry roughly aside, he knelt over Stella, drew his wand, and traced it over the deep wounds Harry's curse had made, muttering an incantation that sounded almost like song. The flow of blood seemed to ease; Snape wiped the residue from Stella's face and repeated his spell. Now the wounds seemed to be knitting back together.

Harry was still watching, horrified by what he had done, barely aware that he too was soaked in blood and water. Moaning Myrtle was still sobbing and wailing overhead. When Snape had performed his counter curse for the third time, he lifted Stella into his arms.

"You need the hospital wing. There may be a certain amount of scarring, but if you take dittany immediately we might avoid even that. . . ."

Snape began carrying Stella out of the bathroom, turning at the door to both boys, a cold fury in his voice.

"The two of you wait here for me…"

Snape carried Stella to the hospital wing, holding her against his chest carefully, as if afraid she would break again.

"Shh," he whispered to her before gently placing her on a bed, telling Pomfrey what she needed and sending her after the potions.

"Dad…" Stella groaned out just before her eyes fluttered closed.

She could hear people around her but she couldn't open her eyes, so she caught bits and pieces of conversations.

"I'm going to kill him," Draco hissed out.

"No, you aren't," Tracy argued. "She'd never forgive you."

"Might be worth it…"

….

"I'm sorry, Stella," Pansy was crying and Stella could feel her holding Stella's hand tightly. "I'm so sorry."

….

"I'll kill him," Ron growled, reminding her of Draco's promise earlier.

"He didn't mean to," Ginny argued with a sniffle. "She'd tell you so if she were awake."

"But she isn't awake! He almost killed her!"

….

"I know you can hear me. I'm giving you a potion to help you heal and you'll be able to move around again in about twenty minutes. Just in time for the Quidditch match," Snape's voice was a comfort, as was the feeling of the potion being magically ingested as it began to work through her system. "While we wait for it to work, I want to explain myself.

"It was not just because you called me… that. You could do much better. I know Arhtur Weasley has not stood up to his wife, nor will he, and let you leave and I know that Sirius Black is now gone, but I am possibly the worst option for you to care for in that way. For that reason, I have pushed you away.

"You have done nothing wrong. I am the one at fault. I fear my influence is why you have turned to such a dark place after the deaths of Blaise and Black. You were such a bright and happy girl when you first came to this school and I have hurt you on multiple occasions. I refuse to do it again.

"Draco and I will be keeping our distances from now on. I know that you are aware of what he must do. I will assist him from here on out. Goodbye, Stella Nova. I do, truly, love you like a daughter. I am sorry."

Stella felt tears running down her face before she was able to open her eyes. Sandess so strong took over and Stella slowly sat up, Pomfrey rushing over to her. Stella shook her head and stood, going behind a screen and changing into a clean school uniform. She got to the stands and watched from below as Gryffindor flew against Ravenclaw. Harry wasn't in the air, so Stella went to the dungeons, grabbed the map and went to the tower, looking at the map just long enough to get the password.

Harry wasn't in his room so Stella sighed before landing on the couch. She laid there for a while, waiting for Harry to return. The rest of Gryffindor house returned before then though, celebrating and holding up the Quidditch cup. Stella smiled as her eyes found Ron's, him beyond relieved to see her and pulling her into a tight hug.

"How are you feeling?" he asked her.

"Better," she admitted. "Where's Harry?"

"Detention," Ginny answered, looking a bit worried.

Just then the common room door opened and Harry walked in.

"Are we mad at him?" Ron asked.

"No," Stella gave a laugh.

"Brilliant," Ron sighed before rushing towards Harry with the cup. "We won! We won! Four hundred and fifty to a hundred and forty! We won!"

Ginny glanced at Stella and then ran forward. She threw her arms around Harry's neck and pulled him into a kiss. Harry's eyes widened and he pushed Ginny away quickly. His eyes found Stella's and she wasn't sure who looked more shocked. Silence had fallen around the room and Ginny was blushing so hard that her face matched her hair.

"Sorry…" she whispered to Harry but the whole room could hear. "I thought—"

Harry moved past her quickly, going straight to Stella. He grabbed her face in his hands and kissed her, holding her close. Neither were thinking or worrying about the fact that fifty people were watching. After several long moments, they broke apart. The room was still deadly quiet before several people wolf-whistled and there was an outbreak of nervous giggling.

Harry looked over Stella's head to see Hermione beaming, Ginny and Romilda Vane glaring, and Neville looking a bit sad. Harry's eyes finally found Ron though. He was still clutching the cup and wearing an expression appropriate to having been clubbed over the head. For a fraction of a second they looked at each other, then Ron gave a tiny jerk of the head, as if saying 'Well, if you must.'

Harry grinned down at Stella and gave her another gentle kiss before pulling her out of the common room by the hand, deciding that a long walk in the grounds was for the best.

"You'd think people had better things to gossip about," said Stella, as she sat on the common room floor, leaning against Harry's legs. "Romilda Vane has asked me yet again how I stole you from my own sister."

"You didn't steal me," Harry seemed confused as he reached down and pulled Stella into his lap. "I was always yours."

"Oh, please stop," Ron groaned, rubbing his face in annoyance. "Just because I gave my permission—"

"Your permission?" Stella's brows rose. "Since when do I need permission?"

"Just don't start snogging in public—"

"You filthy hypocrite! What about you and Lavender, thrashing around like a pair of eels all over the place?" demanded Stella.

"I want to talk to you, Harry," Hermione spoke up.

"What about?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"The so-called Half-Blood Prince."

"Oh, come off it!" Stella complained. "Have you really not figured it out yet?"

"Figured what out?" Hermione demanded.

"It's Snape," she said as if it were obvious, which it had been for her. "I recognized the handwriting immediately but didn't say anything because Harry needs to pass Potions to become an auror and I knew he wouldn't use the book otherwise. I even asked Snape about it. He's a half-blood and his mother's maiden name was 'Prince,' which is where the name come from."

"Eileen Prince," Hermione gasped, pulling a picture out and showing it to Stella.

"That's her," Stella confirmed. "That's Snape's mother."

"Your relationship to Snape is strange," Ron shook his head.

"Should I be worried?" Harry asked, trying to joke through how uncomfortable he felt about having used Snape's old book.

"We don't have any sort of relationship anymore," Stella grumbled leaning into Harry.

"Want me to tell him not to call me 'sir' again?" Harry asked. "I already have detentions every Saturday for the rest of the year. Can't get much worse, can it?"

"I appreciate the offer," Stella smirked, kissing Harry's cheek before looking down at the picture in her hands again. "Can I keep this?"

"Sure," Hermione nodded.

Jimmy Peaks appeared in front of them, passing a scroll to Harry before running off.

"It's from Dumbledore," Harry told them and Stella could tell that Ron and Hermione didn't know that Stella knew about the memories based on the looks they shot her. "He needs me in his office as quickly as possible."

"I just got comfortable," Stella complained as she stood, letting Harry up. "I have to go throw things at the Slytherins anyways. See you all later."

Stella kissed both Harry's and Ron's cheeks before leaving. She had instant darkness powder in her hand and a disillusionment charm in place. She tossed some of the powder into the common room and rushed back out again. She smirked when she heard screaming behind her, continuing back towards the Gryffindor common room. She walked in as Harry was rushing out again.

"Hey," she said in confusion.

"Whatever Malfoy has been doing, he's done it. Fixed something."

Stella's eyes widened.

"You know. I have to leave with Dumbledore for the night. When I get back, you need to tell me everything."

"I will," she promised him. "Go with Dumbledore. Be careful."

Harry kissed her hard before rushing off. Stella walked into the common room to find Ron and Hermione looking beyond worried.

"What's happening?" Stella asked them.

"We—"

"- can't explain everything," Hermione spoke over Ron, cutting him off. "Something's happened and we need to all be on alert tonight. We might have to fight…"

"Alright," Stella nodded. "I have a few things to help us. I'll be back."

Stella went to Mrytle's bathroom. The sink that had exploded was already repaired and the water had been cleaned. Luckily, the stalls hadn't been bothered during the duel or Stella's fireworks would have probably all exploded. She grabbed all of her joke items and her defense items, stuffing them into her extendable purse before using the map to get around the school, it being pass curfew now.

Stella stopped in front of the portrait though when she saw Remus on the map. She ran towards his footprints finding him in a hall, arguing with Tonks.

"Uncle Moony!" she shouted, running straight into his arms.

He lifted her in a hug, spinning her a bit in the process. She could tell he was tense but laughing at her reaction to seeing him.

"I've missed you," she complained into his shoulder before he set her back on her feet.

"I've missed you, too, Cub. I'm sorry for not writing."

"No," Stella shook her head. "I get it. It's okay. Are you here because Dumbledore's left for the night?"

"I am," he nodded before confusion crossed his face. "How did you know that?"

"He told Harry," Stella shrugged.

"And, of course, Harry told you," Remus smirked.

"Attached at the hip, they are," Tonks spoke up, reminding Stella that she was there.

"Hello, cousin," Stella smiled at her.

"Cousin," Tonks greeted, not looking a whole too thrilled to see her.

"Here, Uncle Moony. It's a glove that makes it where your wand can't be taken from you. Fred and George came up with it," Stella passed a glove to Remus, giving him a pointed look.

"Thank you, Cub," Remus smirked. "It's past curfew. Shouldn't you be down in the dungeons?"

"I don't go down there if I can help it," Stella shrugged. "I was heading towards Gryffindor tower when I saw you on the map. Wanted to see you."

"Well, you've seen me," Remus smirked. "Come along. I'll take you up now."

"Alright," Stella smiled, walking along beside Remus, leaving Tonks behind. Once they were out of earshot, Stella gave Remus an unimpressed look. "Why don't you just tell her the truth?"

"People would not take kindly to my relationship with Severus."

"I don't mean that part," Stella rolled her eyes. "Just tell her you prefer men. She'd leave you be if you did. Give up hope and stop tagging along after you as she does. Sirius would have so many jokes but he'd tell you the same that I am."

"Sirius did not know that I preferred men. None of my friends outside of Lily did," Remus spoke up and Stella stopped mid-step, tripping a bit and causing Remus to reach out and catch her. "Stella Nova, it is not that big a deal."

"It's a huge deal!" Stella argued loudly. "You keeping a huge part of yourself from your best friends is ridiculous! They already knew you were a werewolf, why would you… Oh, my Gods. You were already scared that they were going to stop being friends with you because you were a werewolf, so you didn't tell them about being gay so they wouldn't have another thing to use against you. Are you really that thick?!"

"Lower your voice," Remus tried.

"I will do no such thing! What kind of brainless thoughts are you having? If they'd left you for something as simple as you being with someone who was the same sex as you then they wouldn't have been friends worth having in the first place!"

"I know that now," Remus assured her, hands moving to her arms and rubbing gently. "The only reason I didn't tell Sirius before he died was because I wanted him to get better first. Breath, Stella Nova."

"Fine," she grumbled, arms uncrossing from over her chest as she reached into her bag again. "Harry told Ron and Hermione to stay alert around the castle tonight. Something's going on. I have a bunch of stuff to help if something does happen. Here. Decoy detonators if you need a distraction."

"That looks like more than decoy detonators to me in there," Remus raised an amused brow.

"Don't judge me," Stella told him. "Go back to your post, mister 'I'm-Too-Afraid-To-Tell-Tonks-That-I'm-Gay' and I'll go to mine."

"I want you to stay in the tower tonight," Remus tried and Stella snorted.

"Yeah, cause I'm known for doing what I'm told. See you if any fighting begins. Love you!"

Stella ran into the tower as Ron opened it to see what all the shouting was about.

"Love you!" she heard Remus call after her as the portrait swung shut.

"Alright. Order members are crawling all over the place and I've got explosives, dungbombs, decoys, and instant darkness powder for all, along with shield cloaks and gloves. Who's all coming out tonight?"

"Neville and I," Ginny spoke up, looking a bit uncomfortable.

"Brilliant. I'd love to see a death eater being attacked by their own boogies," Stella smirked, passing her a few items. "Here you are. Put these on, please. You, too, Neville."

"Harry wanted all of us to take a bit of Felix Felicis if any fighting began," Hermione said, holding up the bottle.

"We can watch the map to see if anyone shows up tonight. If they do, we'll each take a bit and then head off," Ron nodded, looking at the map in Stella's hands.

"Here," Stella smirked. "Our master strategist."

"I like the sound of that," Ron smirked, taking the map and watching it. "Alright. We'll keep an eye on the Room of Requirement and go from there. We should each partner up with someone but there's an odd amount of us.

"Neville, you're with Ginny. Hermione, you're with me. Stella… well I think you could take over Great Britian and still have time for afternoon tea with Snape afterwards so you'll be on your own until Harry returns, then you're with him."

"Luna wants to help as well," Ginny spoke up, pocketing her coin from the D.A. "She's on her way up now."

"Stella with Neville then. In each pair we need someone to shield and someone to attack. That'll be Luna, Neville, and me. Stella, Hermione, Ginny, you three'll be the defense."

"Sounds good," Stella nodded, pointing to where Tonks was on the map. "She's rather close to the room."

"So's Snape," Hermione pointed at Snape just a floor below.

"At least they'll be able to get there quickly," Ron shrugged. "Let's all sit. This might take a while."

It was an hour later, when no Order members were close by, the group headed down to the Room, standing guard outside of it and waiting, each taking a sip of golden potion. Twenty minutes later, Draco poked his head outside the room and everything went dark.

"Lumos!" Neville and Luna.

"Incendio!" Hermione shouted out.

"It's Instant Darkness Powder!" Stella yelled out, pulling Neville with her towards a corridor exit, trying to get out of there before a random spell was sent their way.

The group of six students finally made it out of the hall and ran almost directly into Remus and Tonks.

"What's happened?" Remus demanded.

"Malfoy," Stella stated, grabbing the map from Ron and looking through it. "Heading towards the Astronomy Tower with six Death Eaters."

"We're on it," Tonks stated and the kids chased after the Order members, both shooting off patronuses to warn the other adults.

Fighting broke out immediately and Neville kept throwing up shielding charms as Stella shot out stunners, not wanting to accidentally hit one of the Order members with anything worse. The Death Eaters had no problems with shooting darker spells, but Felix kept the students safe. Stella and Neville both failed to see Fenrir Greyback trying to sneak up on Stella, but Bill saw it.

"No!" he jumped in the way at the last second, blocking the werewolf from hurting his sister.

"Bill!" Stella screamed, shooting a strong stinging hex at the wolf before shooting him backwards off of Bill, who was bleeding terribly now.

Neville ran at the staircase that Greyback had run through with an angry yell before being thrown backwards.

"No!" Stella yelled before tossing a softening spell at the wall, causing Neville to bounce off of it instead of cracking his head open.

Stella was on her own, fighting against the large blonde death eater that seemed to enjoy shooting spells off in any and every direction without a care in the world. Stella dodged under spells, her wand in one hand and Sirius's in the other. Snape ran in then and went straight up the stairs, paying no attention to anyone else as he went. She wondered for half a second if you needed the dark mark to get through before having to duck under another spell.

Ginny appeared beside Stella then, pulling her away from the Death Eater quickly. They hid behind a tapestry for a moment, both catching their breath.

"Nevile?"

"Knocked out. Luna?"

"Sprained ankle and bump on the head. Hid her behind a tapestry."

"Shit."

"Yeah."

"Are we okay?"

"I'd like that."

"Good because I'd hate to end up dying tonight with you thinking I was mad at you when I'm not."

"Same."

"Okay. Enough of this."

Stella ducked out from behind the tapestry with Ginny just as the Death Eaters came down from the tower.

"Sectumsempra!" Stella yelled and the blonde death eater fell to the floor, bleeding out from cuts all over his body.

"Incarcerous!" Ginny yelled and one of the tower death eaters flew backwards, wrapped in black ropes.

A lumpy Death Eater began fighting Ginny and a woman who looked like the man began dueling Stella.

"Crucio — Crucio — you can't dance forever, pretty —"

"Bombarda!" Stella shouted and the wall behind the two blew up, causing them to run with their arms over their heads to get away.

"Petrificus Totalus!" Harry's voice came and Stella looked over to see him pushing Greyback off of him.

"Harry?" Stella asked.

"Where'd you come from?" Ginny asked, seeming just as confused as Stella.

He ignored them both though and took off after the Death Eaters. Stella and Ginny shared a look.

"Get Luna and Neville to the Hospital Wing," Stella told Ginny.

"You go after Harry," Ginny nodded in agreement.

Stella had the map out and was chasing after Harry. She ran through the same shortcut that he had taken, stuffing the map into her pocket and assumed he was heading to the front entrance where she'd seen Snape's and Draco's names with two of the Death Eaters, heading towards the grounds. She saw the Hufflepuffs looking confused and she yelled for them to get back into the common room as she passed, assuming Harry had just torn through the hall like she now was.

She ran towards Hagrid's hut, which was on fire, illuminating what was happening. It seemed Snape had pushed Draco towards the gates and told him to run as Harry shot spells at Snape. Snape was glaring at Harry now.

"Fight back!" Harry was screaming. "Fight back, you cowardly—"

"Coward, did you call me, Potter?" Snape shouted back. "Your father would never attack me unless it was four on one, what would you call him, I wonder?"

"Stupe—"

Snape blocked the spell and demanded the other death eater leave, no one having noticed Stella approaching quickly from the castle. Harry was tossed backwards and screamed in pain before Snape yelled at the Death Eater again, finally sending him away.

"Sectum—"

"No, Potter!" screamed Snape.

There was a loud BANG and Harry was soaring backward, hitting the ground hard again, and this time his wand flew out of his hand. Stella could hear Hagrid yelling and Fang howling as Snape closed in and looked down on Harry where he lay, wandless and defenseless. Snape's pale face, illuminated by the flaming cabin, was suffused with hatred just as it had been before he had cursed Dumbledore.

"You dare use my own spells against me, Potter? It was I who invented them — I, the Half-Blood Prince! And you'd turn my inventions on me, like your filthy father, would you? I don't think so . . . no!"

Harry had dived for his wand; Snape shot a hex at it and it flew feet away into the darkness and out of sight.

"Kill me then," panted Harry "Kill me like you killed him, you coward —"

"DON'T!" screamed Snape, slashing his wand through the air and causing Harry to scream in pain.

Stella felt a blinding rage then. Snape had been right. She did deserve better.

"Expelliarmus!" she yelled and Snape blocked the spell, taking several steps back from Harry in the process.

Stella shot three more spells silently before Snape broke out of his stupor and fought back.

"Stay—" a stunner. "Away—" a stinging hex. "From—" another disarmer. "HIM!" a blaster.

Snape blocked the blasting spell and sent one of his own.

Stella ducked and tossed a tripping jinx at the ground, causing Snape to fall backwards. She rushed to Harry, standing in front of him protectively just as Buckbeak ran at Snape, causing Snape to run away, Buckbeak chasing after him. Stella turned, breathing heavily to find Harry slowly sitting up.

She helped him to his feet and summoned his wand, passing it to him.

"Hagrid," Harry muttered. "HAGRID?!"

Harry stumbled toward the burning house as an enormous figure emerged from out of the flames carrying Fang on his back. With a cry of thankfulness, Harry sank to his knees, shaking all over and his breath coming out unevenly.

"Yeh all right', Harry? Yeh all righ'? Speak ter me, Harry…"

Hagrid's huge, hairy face was in front of Harry's trying to bring him back. Harry's hand reached up, petting Fang gently.

"I'm all right," Harry panted. "Are you?"

" 'Course I am . . . take more'n that ter finish me."

Stella let out a small laugh of relief as Hagrid put his hands under Harry's arms and raised him up with such force that Harry's feet momentarily left the ground before Hagrid set him up right again. Stella could see blood trickling down Hagrid's cheek from a deep cut under one eye, which was swelling rapidly. She taped Hagrid's cheek with her wand, casting a healing charm to help with the swelling before she began putting out the fire on Hagrid's house, Harry and Hagrid joining her quickly.

"S'not too bad," said Hagrid hopefully a few minutes later, looking at the smoking wreck. "Nothin' Dumbledore won' be able to put righ' . . ."

"Where is Dumbledore?" Stella asked Harry. "I thought you were with him?"

"I was bindin' up a couple o' bowtruckle legs when I heard 'em comin'," said Hagrid sadly, still staring at his wrecked cabin. "They'll've bin burnt ter twigs, poor little things. . . ."

"Harry?"

"But what happened, Harry? I jus' saw them Death Eaters runnin' down from the castle, but what the ruddy hell was Snape doin' with 'em? Where's he gone — was he chasin' them?"

"He . . ." Harry cleared his throat; it was dry from panic and the smoke. "Hagrid, he killed . . ."

"Killed?" said Hagrid loudly, staring down at Harry. "Snape killed? What're yeh on abou', Harry?"

"Harry?" Stella's voice was shaking and Harry looked to her, eyes locking on hers.

"Snape killed… Dumbledore."

"No," Stella fell to her knees and Harry rushed forward, catching her.

Hagrid simply looked at him, the little of his face that could be seen completely blank, uncomprehending.

"Dumbledore wha', Harry?"

"He's dead. Snape killed him. . . ."

"Don' say that," said Hagrid roughly. "Snape kill Dumbledore — don' be stupid, Harry. Wha's made yeh say tha'?"

"I saw it happen."

"Yeh couldn' have."

"I saw it, Hagrid."

"What musta happened was, Dumbledore musta told Snape ter go with them Death Eaters," Hagrid said confidently. "I suppose he's gotta keep his cover. Look, let's get yeh back up ter the school. Come on, Harry. Up ya get, Stell. Harry's wrong. Come on."

The oak front doors stood open ahead of them, light flooding out onto the drive and the lawn. Slowly, uncertainly, dressing-gowned people were creeping down the steps, looking around nervously for some sign of the Death Eaters who had fled into the night. Harry's eyes were locked somewhere else though and Stella followed his eyes with her own and gasped, hands covering her mouth in shock.

"What're they all lookin' at?" said Hagrid, as he, Stella and Harry approached the castle front, Fang keeping as close as he could to their ankles. "Wha's tha', lyin' on the grass?" Hagrid added sharply, heading now toward the foot of the Astronomy Tower, where a small crowd was congregating. "See it, Harry? Righ' at the foot o' the tower? Under where the Mark . . . Blimey . . . yeh don' think someone got thrown — ?"

Hagrid fell silent, the thought apparently too horrible to express aloud. They moved, dreamlike, through the murmuring crowd to the very front, where the dumbstruck students and teachers had left a gap.

Stella heard Hagrid's moan of pain and shock, but Stella and Harry did not stop; they walked slowly forward until they reached the place where Dumbledore lay and crouched down beside him.

Dumbledore's eyes were closed; but for the strange angle of his arms and legs, he might have been sleeping. Harry reached out, straightened the half-moon spectacles upon the crooked nose, and wiped a trickle of blood from the mouth with his own sleeve. Then he gazed down at Dumbledore's still face. The crowd was muttering behind them but Stella couldn't bring herself to care as Harry held her hand so tightly that she knew there would be bruises left behind.

Harry moved his knee and picked something up off of the ground. An opened locket rested in Harry's hand, a small piece of parchment stuck inside. Harry opened the note and read it before placing it back into the locket and closing it. Harry began to cry and Fang let out a mournful howl.

"Yeh can' stay here," Hagrid tried to get Harry to move. "Come on, now."

"No," Harry shook his head.

"Harry, come on."

It was Stella this time, pulling him upward by his hand. He obeyed her and Stella pulled him away from the ground before pulling him close and wrapping her arm around his waist.

"We're going to the hospital wing."

"I'm not hurt," Harry told her.

"It's where everyone else is," she told him, having checked the map before pulling Harry away from Dumbledore's body.

"Who else is dead?" Harry asked.

"No one," Stella shook her head, thinking of Bill now.

"But the mark – Malfoy said he stepped over a body."

"He stepped over Bill, but it's all right, he's alive."

"Are you sure?" Harry didn't believe her and Stella didn't blame him, her voice shaking horribly.

"Greyback tried to attack me. He threw himself in the way. He was hurt badly but he was alive when I ran after you," Stella explained. "He's in the Hospital Wing."

"There were other bodies on the ground…"

"Neville got knocked out and Luna's ankle was sprained. Probably one of them?" Stella suggested. "Harry, if we hadn't had the Felix potion, I think we'd all have been killed. Everything just sort of missed us…"

They had reached the hospital wing. Pushing open the doors, Stella saw Neville lying, apparently asleep, in a bed near the door. Ron, Hermione, Luna, Tonks, and Remus were gathered around another bed near the far end of the ward. At the sound of the doors opening, they all looked up. Hermione ran to Harry and hugged him; Remus moved forward too, looking anxious.

"Are you both alright?" he demanded, voice a bit panicked.

"We're fine… How's Bill?" Harry asked.

Stella let go of Harry and rushed forward, finding her brother looking unrecognizable, so badly slashed and ripped that he looked grotesque. Stella gasped and her shaking hands covered her mouth again. Madam Pomfrey was dabbing at his wounds with some harsh-smelling green ointment. Stella remembered the spell that Snape had used to heal her wounds and stepped closer quickly, wand out as she tried it. The wounds closed a bit and some of the bleeding stopped, but nothing major enough to calm Stella.

"How?" Madam Pomfrey asked. "I've tried everything I know, but there is no cure for werewolf bites."

"He wasn't bitten at the full moon," said Ron, who was gazing down into his brother's face as though he could somehow force him to mend just by staring. "Greyback hadn't transformed, so surely Bill won't be a — a real — ?"

"No, I don't think that Bill will be a true werewolf," said Remus, "but that does not mean that there won't be some contamination. Those are cursed wounds. They are unlikely ever to heal fully, and — and Bill might have some wolfish characteristics from now on."

"Dumbledore might know something that'd work, though," Ron said. "Where is he? Bill fought those maniacs on Dumbledore's orders, Dumbledore owes him, he can't leave him in this state —"

"Dead," Stella's voice was flat as she spoke, Occluding to try to hold herself together. "Dumbledore's dead."

"No!" Remus yelled in shock.

"How did he die?" Tonks whispered. "How did it happen?"

"Snape killed him," said Harry and Stella whimpered. "I was there, I saw it. We arrived back on the Astronomy Tower because that's where the Mark was. . . . Dumbledore was ill, he was weak, but I think he realized it was a trap when we heard footsteps running up the stairs. He immobilized me, I couldn't do anything, I was under the Invisibility Cloak — and then Malfoy came through the door and disarmed him —"

Hermione clapped her hands to her mouth and Ron groaned. Luna's mouth trembled.

"— more Death Eaters arrived — and then Snape — and Snape did it. The Avada Kedavra." Harry couldn't go on.

Madam Pomfrey burst into tears. Nobody paid her any attention except Ginny, who whispered, "Shh! Listen!"

Gulping, Madam Pomfrey pressed her fingers to her mouth, her eyes wide. Somewhere out in the darkness, a phoenix was singing in a way Stella had never heard before: a stricken lament of terrible beauty. And Stella felt, as she had felt about phoenix song before, that the music was inside him, not without: It was his own grief turned magically to song that echoed across the grounds and through the castle windows.

How long they all stood there, listening, she did not know, nor why it seemed to ease their pain a little to listen to the sound of their mourning, but it felt like a long time later that the hospital door opened again and Professor McGonagall entered the ward. Like all the rest, she bore marks of the recent battle: There were grazes on her face and her robes were ripped.

"Molly and Arthur are on their way," she said, and the spell of the music was broken: Everyone roused themselves as though coming out of trances, turning again to look at Bill, or else to rub their own eyes, shake their heads. "Harry, what happened? According to Hagrid you were with Professor Dumbledore when he — when it happened. He says Professor Snape was involved in some —"

"Snape killed Dumbledore," said Harry.

She stared at him for a moment, then swayed alarmingly; Madam Pomfrey, who seemed to have pulled herself together, ran forward, conjuring a chair from thin air, which she pushed under McGonagall.

"Snape," repeated McGonagall faintly, falling into the chair. "We all wondered . . . but he trusted . . . always . . . Snape . . . I can't believe it. . . ."

"Snape was a highly accomplished Occlumens," said Remus, his voice uncharacteristically harsh. "We always knew that."

"But Dumbledore swore he was on our side!" whispered Tonks. "I always thought Dumbledore must know something about Snape that we didn't. . . ."

"I think someone else in this room might know the reason," Harry said, eyes locked on Stella, who was still staring down at Bill and very close to tears. "Stell?"

"Hmm?" she asked, looking up and see everyone staring at her, not having heard any of the conversation happening around her. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Do you know why Dumbledore trusted Snape so much?" Harry asked.

"Because… Snape was best friends with a muggleborn girl before he came to Hogwarts with her. They were friends all the way through sixth year or so. Voldemort targeted her and Snape turned spy to try to protect her."

"Who was she?" Harry asked, confused.

"Your mother…"

Harry's eyes widened and he needed to sit down. Remus pulled up a chair quickly, helping Harry into it quickly.

"They were friends?" Harry asked, voice small.

"He didn't go into detail…" Stella whispered, eyes going back to Bill as she grew silent again, tuning out the conversation around her as she tried to keep herself from having a breakdown, occluding and catching random bits of the conversation.

"I saw him run straight through the cursed barrier as though it wasn't there," said Remus. "I tried to follow him but was thrown back just like Neville. . . ."

"He must have known a spell we didn't," whispered McGonagall. "After all — he was the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. . . . I just assumed that he was in a hurry to chase after the Death Eaters who'd escaped up to the tower. . . ."

"I think it was the Dark Mark," Stella spoke up. "I thought about it when Neville got thrown back. I think it was a spell to keep any one who didn't have the mark out of the area."

"I thought that as well," Harry nodded before turning to the others again. "So what happened when he came back down?"

"Well, the big Death Eater had just fired off a hex that caused half the ceiling to fall in, and also broke the curse blocking the stairs," said Remus. "We all ran forward — those of us who were still standing anyway — and then Snape and the boy—"

"Draco," Stella corrected.

"- emerged out of the dust — obviously, none of us attacked them —"

"We just let them pass," said Tonks in a hollow voice. "We thought they were being chased by the Death Eaters — and next thing, the other Death Eaters and Greyback were back and we were fighting again — I thought I heard Snape shout something, but I don't know what —"

"He shouted, 'It's over,' " said Harry. "He'd done what he'd meant to do."

The doors of the hospital wing burst open, making them all jump: Molly and Arthur were striding up the ward, Fleur just behind them, her beautiful face terrified.

"Molly — Arthur —" said Professor McGonagall, jumping up and hurrying to greet them. "I am so sorry —"

"Bill," whispered Mrs. Weasley, darting past Professor McGonagall as she caught sight of Bill's mangled face. "Oh, Bill!"

Lupin and Tonks had got up hastily and retreated so that Molly and Arthur could get nearer to the bed. Molly bent over her son and pressed her lips to his bloody forehead.

"You said Greyback attacked him?" Arthur asked McGonagall. "But he hadn't transformed? So what does that mean? What will happen to Bill?"

"We don't know yet," said McGonagall, looking helplessly at Remus.

"There will probably be some contamination, Arthur," Remus answered. "It is an odd case, possibly unique… We don't know what his behavior might be like when he awakens."

Molly took the nasty-smelling ointment from Madam Pomfrey and began dabbing at Bill's wounds.

"And Dumbledore… Minerva, is it true?" Arthur asked.

"Yes."

"Dumbledore gone," whispered Arthur, but Molly had eyes only for her eldest son; she began to sob, tears falling onto Bill's mutilated face.

"Of course, it doesn't matter how he looks. . . . It's not r-really important . . . but he was a very handsome little b-boy . . . always very handsome . . . and he was g-going to be married!"

"And what do you mean by zat?" said Fleur suddenly and loudly. "What do you mean, ' 'e was going to be married?' "

"Well — only that —"

"You theenk Bill will not wish to marry me anymore?" demanded Fleur. "You theenk, because of these bites, he will not love me?"

"No, that's not what I —"

"Because 'e will!" said Fleur, drawing herself up to her full height and throwing back her long mane of silver hair. "It would take more zan a werewolf to stop Bill loving me!"

"Well, yes, I'm sure," said Molly, "but I thought perhaps — given how — how he —"

"You thought I would not weesh to marry him? Or per'aps, you hoped?" said Fleur, her nostrils flaring. "What do I care how he looks? I am good-looking enough for both of us, I theenk! All these scars show is zat my husband is brave! And I shall do zat!" she added fiercely, pushing Molly aside and snatching the ointment from her, causing Stella to smile proudly at her.

Molly fell back against her husband and watched Fleur mopping up Bill's wounds with a most curious expression upon her face. Nobody said anything; Stella did not dare move. Like everybody else, she was waiting for the explosion.

"Our Great-Auntie Muriel," said Molly after a long pause, "has a very beautiful tiara — goblin-made — which I am sure I could persuade her to lend you for the wedding. She is very fond of Bill, you know, and it would look lovely with your hair."

"Thank you," said Fleur stiffly. "I am sure zat will be lovely."

"You see!" said a strained voice. Tonks was glaring at Lupin. "She still wants to marry him, even though he's been bitten! She doesn't care!"

"It's different," said Lupin, barely moving his lips and looking suddenly tense. "Bill will not be a full werewolf. The cases are completely —"

"But I don't care either, I don't care!" said Tonks, seizing the front of Lupin's robes and shaking them. "I've told you a million times. . . ."

"Oh, my Gods… HE'S GAY!" Stella yelled out, thoroughly done with this. "Gay! Likes men! Grumpy ones at that! Jeez… Sorry, Uncle Mooney…"

Remus was giving Stella an exasperated look and she flinched, feeling a bit bad about having outed him. She just couldn't stand listening to this anymore. Her da… Professor had just killed Dumbledore and then run off with Draco… who was terrified for his and his mother's lives. Bill had been almost torn to pieces protecting her and Snape had killed Dumbledore. Neville had been injured and Snape had killed Dumbledore. Snape had killed Dumbledore… Her dad killed the great Albus Dumbledore…

"I need…"

Stella didn't finished her sentence. She just walked out of the room, running the moment she was out the doors. She made it into the courtyard, falling to her knees and gasping for air. She couldn't occlude or calm herself as she began to sob, her throat feeling as if someone had their hands wrapped around it and closing her airways.

Of course it was Remus who found her. He was always the one finding her it seemed. He kneeled in front of her, forcing her to copy his breathing, looking close to tears himself. Once she was able to breathe again, Remus pulled her into his arms, holding her and letting her cry. He ended up carrying her through the school, taking her into Hogsmeade, to the house that she owned there. He laid her in bed, pulling off her shoes before laying the blanket over her and sitting on the edge of the bed, brushing the hair from her face as she fell asleep, watching over her while she slept.

All lessons were suspended, all examinations postponed. Some students were hurried away from Hogwarts by their parents over the next couple of days — the Patil twins were gone before breakfast on the morning following Dumbledore's death, and Zacharias Smith was escorted from the castle by his haughty-looking father. Seamus Finnigan, on the other hand, refused point-blank to accompany his mother home; they had a shouting match in the entrance hall that was resolved when she agreed that he could remain behind for the funeral. The Slytherins were all removed within a day, minus Stella and Tracy.

Some excitement was caused among the younger students, who had never seen it before, when a powder-blue carriage the size of a house, pulled by a dozen giant winged palominos, came soaring out of the sky in the late afternoon before the funeral and landed on the edge of the forest. Stella watched from a window as a gigantic and handsome olive-skinned, black-haired woman descended the carriage steps and threw herself into the waiting Hagrid's arms. Meanwhile a delegation of Ministry officials, including the Minister of Magic himself, was being accommodated within the castle.

Stella went back up to the school and gave Tracy the Gryffindor password so that she could sleep in Padma's old bed so the two weren't alone in the Slytherin common room. Stella kept making her way down to the dungeons though, sitting in the middle of the common room with the portrait open and just staring around. Harry found her this time.

"Hey," he whispered as he sat beside her.

"Hi…"

"Do you want to tell me what was going on?"

"Draco's mother was being held by Voldemort. His father made him take the mark and the mission of killing Dumbledore, a suicide mission really, in order to protect her. Voldemort was going to give her to Greyback if he failed."

"How long have you known?" Harry asked.

"The moment you told me your theory, I started looking for signs. Saying Voldemort's name made him flinch and reach for his arm, I saw something black on his arm during potions one day… I finally just asked him about it in October, I think? He told me everything."

"He just came out and told you?" Harry asked, shocked.

"Are you really surprised?" Stella asked him. "We are talking about the boy that, when turned into a ferret, ran to me for protection."

"You disinherited him, though…"

"He knew I would still protect him if he needed it, though. It was my stash of darkness powder he used to distract us. The poison that Ron drank I had made. Didn't realize what he would do with it when he nicked it, though, or else I would have made him give it back… Snape stopped me from killing Draco that day… I should have known better…"

"You shouldn't have known anything. You trusted him. This isn't on you. If anything, I should have known better," Remus insisted and Stella shook her head quickly as Remus walked into the room, joining Harry and Stella on the floor where they sat, facing the glass leading to the lake.

"He played all of us," she whispered.

Stella visited the Hospital Wing multiple times a day, Bill joking and laughing like he always did. Ginny, Ron, Hermione, and Harry joined her most of the time. All that appeared to change so far was that Bill seemed to now have a great liking for very rare steak.

". . . so eet ees lucky 'e is marrying me," said Fleur happily, plumping up Bill's pillows, "because ze British overcook their meat, I 'ave always said this."

"I suppose I'm just going to have to accept that he really is going to marry her," sighed Ginny later that evening, as she, Stella, Tracy, Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat beside the open window of the Gryffindor common room, looking out over the twilit grounds.

"She's not that bad," said Harry. "Ugly, though," he added hastily, as Stella raised her eyebrows, and she let out a reluctant giggle.

"Well, I suppose if Mum can stand it, I can," Ginny smirked.

"Anyone else we know died?" Ron asked Hermione, who was perusing the Evening Prophet.

Hermione winced at the forced toughness in his voice. "No," she said reprovingly, folding up the newspaper. "They're still looking for Snape but no sign…"

"Of course there isn't," said Harry, who became angry every time this subject cropped up. "They won't find Snape till they find Voldemort, and seeing as they've never managed to do that in all this time . . ."

"I'm going to go to bed," yawned Ginny. "I haven't been sleeping that well since . . . well . . . I could do with some sleep."

"Me as well," Tracy nodded, following Ginny out, the two having become a bit closer since she'd moved into the Gryffindor common room.

"I'm going to go find Uncle Moony. I promised I'd check in with him before heading to bed," Stella told the group.

She gave Harry a quick kiss, Ron looking away pointedly, and left the tower. She had the map out and headed down to Remus's old room, which McGonagall had given him back, telling him that he'd be Defense teacher the next year if it was the last thing she did. After knocking, Remus opened the door, letting Stella in.

"How are you feeling?" Remus asked.

"Tired," she admitted.

"Do you want to stay here tonight? I'll take the couch."

"No," Stella gave a soft smile as Remus handed her the potions that she'd been working on taking properly. "Thank you for this."

"Of course," he nodded. "Had I known you weren't taking them, we would have started this sooner."

"I shouldn't need someone else to tell me to take my potions," she complained. "I should have been able to keep up with it. I don't know why I stopped."

"You went through two traumatic loses in one night, your best friend is still in the hospital, and overheard people that you had, not only grown up with but, thought may be your friends reenacting those traumatic events," Remus defended. "Part of grief is anger. Yours got the best of you. I don't blame you for it. Even the calmest of men would have retaliated harshly in your situation.

"I also think that Draco may have affected you a bit. He wasn't taking his potions either, correct? So, maybe the two of you bounced off of one another a bit."

"Yeah. The Black's aren't known for their teamwork while sane," Stella joked, taking her potions quickly, saving the sleeping one for when she made it back up to the tower.

Her hair was less curled than it had been, not that she'd really let anyone see just how badly it had gotten, Harry being the exception and not knowing what it meant. She didn't laugh at random or have dark thoughts that were hard to ignore anymore. She was feeling more like herself in the past few days, which made it impossible for her to ignore her grief when it came to Sirius, Blaise, and Snape and Theo, who while not dead, she felt a major loss because of.

"Are you going to be alright tomorrow?" Stella asked Remus as the silence grew between them, both lost in their own loss of the potions master.

"I will be," Remus nodded. "You?"

"Yeah," Stella nodded. "I'm worried about Harry though. He's been quiet. Don't get me wrong, he's always been a bit quiet, but not with me. I think he's going to try and do something stupid."

"I doubt you'll let him do anything stupid. Not alone, at least," Remus smirked.

"Oh, never," Stella smirked back. "He may be a reckless idiot at times but he's my reckless idiot. Wouldn't have it any other way."

"Lily used to say the same about his father, James. I am very proud of the person that you are becoming," Remus told Stella, pulling her into a tight hug. "Your parents would be, too. Marlenne, especially, would have liked how protective you are. You get that from her."

"And here I thought it was the Blacks who went over board," Stella joked.

"Oh, absolutely," Remus snorted a laugh. "It's why Sirius was drawn to her. Both dramatic, liking a bit of flare."

"Well, at least I come by it honestly. I should get back. G'night Uncle Moony. Love you."

"Love you, too, Cub," Remus smirked, kissing the top of her head before sending her on her way.

Stella walked into the tower, finding the three having already left the common room. She went up to the sixth year boys dorm and knocked before Ron opened the door, letting her in. Seamus, Dean, and Neville gave her small smiles as she headed to Harry's bed, falling down beside him with an 'oof' and causing him to smirk.

They rose early to pack the next day; the Hogwarts Express would be leaving an hour after the funeral. Downstairs, they found the mood in the Great Hall subdued. Everybody was wearing their dress robes and no one seemed very hungry. Professor McGonagall had left the thronelike chair in the middle of the staff table empty. Hagrid's chair was deserted too; Stella thought that perhaps he had not been able to face breakfast, but Snape's place had been unceremoniously filled by Rufus Scrimgeour. Harry avoided his yellowish eyes by talking to Stella instead, back turned on the Minister. Among Scrimgeour's entourage, Stella spotted the red hair and horn-rimmed glasses of Percy Weasley. Ron gave no sign that he was aware of Percy, apart from stabbing pieces of kipper with unwonted venom, but Percy's eyes locked on Stella's for a moment before she looked away first.

Professor McGonagall had risen to her feet, and the mournful hum in the Hall died away at once.

"It is nearly time," she said. "Please follow your Heads of Houses out into the grounds. Gryffindors, after me."

They filed out from behind their benches in near silence. Stella had never seen Professor Sprout, Head of the Hufflepuffs, looking so clean; there was not a single patch on her hat, and when they reached the entrance hall, they found Madam Pince standing beside Filch, she in a thick black veil that fell to her knees, he in an ancient black suit and tie reeking of mothballs. They headed out toward the lake, Stella unable to stop remembering the second task as they did so.

The warmth of the sun caressed her face as they followed Professor McGonagall in silence to the place where hundreds of chairs had been set out in rows. An aisle ran down the center of them: There was a marble table standing at the front, all chairs facing it. It was the most beautiful summer's day.

An extraordinary assortment of people had already settled into half of the chairs; shabby and smart, old and young. Most Stella did not recognize, but a few she did, including members of the Order of the Phoenix: Kingsley Shacklebolt; Mad-Eye Moody; Tonks, her hair miraculously returned to most vivid pink; Molly and Arthur; Bill supported by Fleur and followed by Fred and George, who were wearing jackets of black dragon skin. Then there was Madame Maxime, who took up two and a half chairs on her own; Tom, the landlord of the Leaky Cauldron in London; Arabella Figg, Harry's Squib neighbor, he whispered to her; the hairy bass player from the Wizarding group the Weird Sisters; Ernie Prang, driver of the Knight Bus; Madam Malkin, of the robe shop in Diagon Alley; and some people whom Stella merely knew by sight, such as the barman of the Hog's Head and the witch who pushed the trolley on the Hogwarts Express. The castle ghosts were there too, barely visible in the bright sunlight, discernible only when they moved, shimmering insubstantially on the gleaming air.

Stella, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Tracy, and Ginny filed into seats at the end of a row beside the lake. People were whispering to each other; it sounded like a breeze in the grass, but the birdsong was louder by far. The crowd continued to swell; with a great rush of affection for both of them, Stella saw Neville being helped into a seat by Luna.

Cornelius Fudge walked past toward the front rows, his expression miserable, twirling his green bowler hat as usual; Stella next recognized Rita Skeeter, who, she was infuriated to see, had a notebook clutched in her red-taloned hand, and then, with a worse jolt of fury mixed with fear, Dolores Umbridge, an unconvincing expression of grief upon her toadlike face, a black velvet bow set atop her iron-colored curls. At the sight of the centaur Firenze, who was standing like a sentinel near the water's edge, she gave a start and scurried hastily into a seat a good distance away. Harry gripped Stella's hand tightly, remembering her telling him about her punishment for herself, Fred, and George the year before.

The staff was seated at last. Stella could see Scrimgeour looking grave and dignified in the front row with Professor McGonagall. She wondered whether Scrimgeour or any of these important people were really sorry that Dumbledore was dead. But then she heard music, strange, otherworldly music, and she forgot her dislike of the Ministry in looking around for the source of it. She was not the only one: Many heads were turning, searching, a little alarmed.

"In there," Ginny whispered.

And she saw them in the clear green sunlit water, inches below the surface, reminding Harry horribly of the Inferi: a chorus of merpeople singing in a strange language they did not understand, their pallid faces rippling, their purplish hair flowing all around them. He had told her all about the cave when she'd told him about Draco helping her with her revenge against the Slytherins all year and about Narcissa being held captive and threatened with Fenrir Greyback. The music made the hair on Stella's neck stand up, and yet it was not unpleasant. It spoke very clearly of loss and of despair. As she looked down into the wild faces of the singers, she had the feeling that they, at least, were sorry for Dumbledore's passing. Then Harry nudged her and she looked around.

Hagrid was walking slowly up the aisle between the chairs. He was crying quite silently, his face gleaming with tears, and in his arms, wrapped in purple velvet spangled with golden stars, was what Stella knew to be Dumbledore's body. For a moment, the strange music and the knowledge that Dumbledore's body was so close seemed to take all warmth from the day. Ron looked white and shocked. Tears were falling thick and fast into both Ginny's and Hermione's laps. Harry gripped Stella's hand tighter than ever.

They could not see clearly what was happening at the front. Hagrid seemed to have placed the body carefully upon the table. Now he retreated down the aisle, blowing his nose with loud trumpeting noises that drew scandalized looks from some, including, Stella saw, Dolores Umbridge . . . but Stella knew that Dumbledore would not have cared. Harry tried to make a friendly gesture to Hagrid as he passed, but Hagrid's eyes were so swollen it was a wonder he could see where he was going. Stella glanced at the back row to which Hagrid was heading and realized what was guiding him, for there, dressed in a jacket and trousers each the size of a small marquee, was the giant Grawp, his great ugly boulderlike head bowed, docile, almost human. Hagrid sat down next to his half-brother, and Grawp patted Hagrid hard on the head, so that his chair legs sank into the ground. Stella had a wonderful momentary urge to laugh, glancing at Harry and seeing him fighting the same urge as her. Then the music stopped, and they turned to face the front again.

A little tufty-haired man in plain black robes had got to his feet and stood now in front of Dumbledore's body.

Stella laid her head on Harry's shoulder, drowning out the man's words and just trying to offer Harry any comfort that she could. She felt a few tears hit her head and sat up, passing him a handkerchief discreetly so no one would see. He stared out over the lake, toward the forest as he wiped his face. Stella noticed the merpeople had broken the surface of the water and that the centaurs were on the edge of the forest, all watching and paying their respects to Dumbledore as well.

The little man in black had stopped speaking at last and resumed his seat. Then several people screamed. Bright, white flames had erupted around Dumbledore's body and the table upon which it lay: Higher and higher they rose, obscuring the body. White smoke spiraled into the air and made strange shapes. There were a few more cries of shock as a shower of arrows soared through the air, but they fell far short of the crowd. It was, Stella knew, the centaurs tribute. The centaurs disappeared into the forest and the merpeople sank back into the lake.

"Stella, listen," Harry whispered and Stella turned to face him completely. "I can't be involved with you anymore. We've got to stop seeing each other. We can't be together."

Stella knew this was his dumb thing of the day and just stared at him, looking completely unamused.

"It's been like . . . like something out of someone else's life, these last few weeks with you," said Harry. "But I can't . . . we can't . . . I've got things to do alone now."

Stella continued to stare, unblinking.

"Voldemort uses people his enemies are close to. He'll try to use you as bait. Think how much danger you'll be in if we keep this up. He'll know, he'll find out. He'll try and get to me through you."

"No," Stella shook her head.

"What?" Harry asked, confused now.

"I said no. I reject your rejection, Harry Potter," Stella told him.

"Stella… How do you think I'd feel if this was your funeral… and it was my fault?"

"Harry, I was your most missed thing in fourth year. Your Godfather was my father. Pettigrew has, undoubtedly, already told him how close we are, as has Snape more than likely. I'm a Black and that alone would make me a target. So, no, Harry. We aren't doing that. We're sticking together like we're supposed to and, if you try this again, I'll hex you until you need better glasses. Am I understood?"

Harry laughed at that, quiet but relieved, as if he'd just needed to be told how stupid he was being to see it himself.

"Alright," he nodded. "You're right."

"I tend to be," Stella smirked. "Want to go for a small walk? Get away from all these people?"

Moving felt much more bearable than sitting still, just as setting out as soon as possible to track down the Horcruxes and kill Voldemort would feel better than waiting to do it.

"Harry!"

They turned. Rufus Scrimgeour was limping rapidly toward them around the bank, leaning on his walking stick.

"I've been hoping to have a word . . . do you mind if I walk a little way with you?"

"No," said Harry indifferently, and set off again, Stella's hand held firmly in his.

"Harry, this was a dreadful tragedy," said Scrimgeour quietly. "I cannot tell you how appalled I was to hear of it. Dumbledore was a very great wizard. We had our disagreements, as you know, but no one knows better than I —"

"What do you want?" asked Stella flatly.

Scrimgeour looked annoyed, but as before, hastily modified his expression to one of sorrowful understanding, ignoring Stella completely.

"You are, of course, devastated," he said. "I know that you were very close to Dumbledore. I think you may have been his favorite pupil ever. The bond between the two of you —"

"What do you want?" Harry repeated, coming to a halt.

Scrimgeour stopped too, leaned on his stick, and stared at Harry, his expression shrewd now.

"The word is that you were with him when he left the school the night that he died."

"Whose word?" said Harry.

"Somebody Stupefied a Death Eater on top of the tower after Dumbledore died. There were also two broomsticks up there. The Ministry can add two and two, Harry."

"Glad to hear it," Stella rolled her eyes.

"Well, where I went with Dumbledore and what we did is my business. He didn't want people to know."

"Such loyalty is admirable, of course," said Scrimgeour, who seemed to be restraining his irritation with difficulty, "but Dumbledore is gone, Harry. He's gone."

"He will only be gone from the school when none here are loyal to him," said Harry, smiling in spite of himself.

"My dear boy . . . even Dumbledore cannot return from the —"

"I am not saying he can. You wouldn't understand. But I've got nothing to tell you."

Scrimgeour hesitated, then said, in what was evidently supposed to be a tone of delicacy, "The Ministry can offer you all sorts of protection, you know, Harry. For you and your loved ones, such as Miss Black here. I would be delighted to place a couple of my Aurors at your service —"

Harry laughed. "Voldemort wants to kill me himself, and Aurors won't stop him. So thanks for the offer, but no thanks."

"So," said Scrimgeour, his voice cold now, "the request I made of you at Christmas —"

"What request? Oh yeah . . . the one where I tell the world what a great job you're doing in exchange for —"

"— for raising everyone's morale!" snapped Scrimgeour.

Harry considered him for a moment.

"Released Stan Shunpike yet?"

"I see you are —"

"Dumbledore's man through and through," said Harry. "That's right."

"And I'm Harry's," Stella spoke up again. "You are making him uncomfortable during a time of grief. I suggest you walk away and leave us be. I'd hate for the ministry to make an enemy out of the House of Black at a time like this."

Scrimgeour glared at them for another moment, then turned and limped away without another word. Stella could see Percy and the rest of the Ministry delegation waiting for him, casting nervous glances at the sobbing Hagrid and Grawp, who were still in their seats. Ron and Hermione were hurrying toward Harry and Stella, passing Scrimgeour going in the opposite direction. Harry turned and walked slowly on, pulling Stella along with him, waiting for them to catch up, which they finally did in the shade of a beech tree under which they had sat in happier times.

"What did Scrimgeour want?" Hermione whispered.

"Same thing he wanted at Christmas," Stella sighed.

"Wanted me to give him inside information on Dumbledore and be the Ministry's new poster boy," Harry nodded.

Ron seemed to struggle with himself for a moment, then he said loudly to Hermione, "Look, let me go back and hit Percy!"

"No," she said firmly, grabbing his arm.

"It'll make me feel better!"

"I'll help!" Stella offered.

Harry laughed. Even Hermione grinned a little, though her smile faded as she looked up at the castle.

"I can't bear the idea that we might never come back," she said softly. "How can Hogwarts close?"

"Maybe it won't," said Ron. "We're not in any more danger here than we are at home, are we? Every where's the same now. I'd even say Hogwarts is safer, there are more wizards inside to defend the place. What d'you reckon, Harry?"

"I'm not coming back even if it does reopen," said Harry.

Ron gaped at him, but Hermione said sadly, "I knew you were going to say that. But then what will you do?"

"I'm going back to the Dursleys' once more, because Dumbledore wanted me to," said Harry. "But it'll be a short visit, and then I'll be gone for good."

"But where will you go if you don't come back to school?"

"Grimmauld," Stella spoke up, sending Harry a smirk. "I'll need a new secret keeper, but after that, it'll be there for anyone who needs a safe place to stay. Uncle Moony and I are going to expand the dueling room so we can train anyone who wants it. Teach people how to fight like you did last year."

"Stella Nova?" a haggard voice asked and Stella turned, finding said uncle waiting for her. "Time to go, Cub."

"Okay," Stella nodded, turning back to the others. "I'll see you tomorrow, Ron. Harry, Hermione, I'll send word once the secret keeper has been chosen. I love you all."

Stella hugged Hermione, the other girl hugging her just as tightly in response. Stella gave Ron a quick hug before pulling Harry into a kiss, not caring as Ron began complaining. Harry held Stella's face gently in his hands, holding her to him for a few seconds longer before they separated, staring into one another's eyes before he nodded to her. She gave him a quick peck on the lips before going to Remus.

"Alright, Cub?" he asked, voice soft.

Stella glanced back at Harry, Ron and Hermione before looking to Remus again.

"I will be."

A figure was walking towards her and Remus now, a cane in hand and limping slightly. Remus froze up and Stella stared curiously. The sunlight was blinding her a bit so she raised her arm, blocking the light from her eyes for a moment before she gasped, running forward quickly. She flung herself into his arms, both toppling backwards and landing on the ground, neither caring at the looks they were receiving or about the fall. Stella was crying heavily as Theo held her in his arms, finally awake.