The next day…was interesting. I woke up excessively early for how tired I was, before anyone else. Momentarily, upon waking up, I panicked, not remembering where I was only what happened last night with the third note. However, looking beside me, I saw something that eased my mind right away; George was sleeping peacefully, his hand still intertwined with mine. I glanced at the wall, but then remembered that George had transfigured the clock handing on the wall into a cot. Outside was dark with seething storm clouds, and the rain was coming down so hard I couldn't see anything.

I closed my eyes once again and did the best I could to fall back asleep. That turned out to be hopeless, though, with my mind fluttering between a million thoughts at once. The main was only a dream. I knew this because George was in it, and we were much older. However, our position mirrored the one we were currently in. Lying next to each other, holding hands, sleeping peacefully. That's all we were doing, just sleeping, nothing else. It was still perfect, and all I could ask for. We were in a house unfamiliar to me, but somehow I knew it was our house, George and mine.

I wasn't surprised by this dream; I had ones like them all the time. Simple dreams where the only focus was George and I together. I knew that in these dreams were the only place that that could happen. But the dream soon strayed to the other side of the norm, something I've never seen before. Slowly, I rose from the bed without waking up George. It was raining in the dream, just like it was tonight, and I shivered as I tiptoed across the wooden floor of the bedroom. I began to descend down the marble stairs, walking quickly because it was cold against my bare feet. The house was beautiful, but old-fashioned and oddly familiar. When I reached the bottom of the stair well, I opened the door and stepped out into the rain. It felt like glass against my skin, piercing it a thousand times like rain-dropped sized shards.

I was walking- stumbling really-through the grass, with the wind ripping at me and the downpour raping me of sight. That's when I first heard it. My name was being whispered repeatedly, almost blending in with the cacophony of the storm. It was eerie and ominous and I know I shouldn't be following it into the woods, which were equally as forlorn, but I couldn't help myself. My body had a mind of its own and it wouldn't let me turn around, as I desperately wanted to. They kept me on a steady path, which I was sure lead to nothing but disaster.

Shaking as I ambled on trembling legs, the voice got louder and I knew I was getting closer. Deeper and deeper I went until finally I was in the center of a clearing. Above me, braches from the surrounding trees intertwined with each other, blocking out most of the light. The clearing was more like a twisted circle the roots of the trees formed, with thick, black oak trees circling around it. It was only then I became aware of how exposed I was, to both the elements and to whatever may be hiding in the shadows. I had a sudden feeling that there was something hiding, something waiting to jump out and devour me whole…

"Hello? Is there anyway out there?" I questioned the night with a voice that wavered, self-doubting.

I should have stayed quiet, I should have ran out of the woods as fast as my legs would allow. But I didn't do either of the smart things to do, instead I stood there. I stood in the middle of the clearing, in full sight of anything that might be out there, totally and utterly exposed. I didn't even have my wand on me. I felt so naked, so vulnerable.

A sinister laugh broke the silence. My head snapped to the left, looking for the source of the sound. I was about to run, my body was ready to spring into action and move as fast as possible to get out of here. I wanted to be back in bed with George, out of the rain and out of this forest.

"I don't think so, mud blood," He growled from the bushes. "Immobulus,"

And just like that, I was frozen. His spell rendered me defenseless. I couldn't move, not even to blink. Slowly, a figured emerged from the shadows, a massive figure in a black cloak. He approached me still laughing menacingly.

"So we meet, at last, Andrella," His voice was rough and held a deep malignant undertone. He moved behind me so I couldn't see him anymore. If I could still move, I would be a mass of quivering jelly on the forest floor.

"How does it feel to know death is so near?" He asked, his tone sadistic. He was directly behind me now, I could feel the heat radiating from his body, and his breathe sticky and foul on my neck.

Reaching around my back, large, dirty fingers moved over the exposed skin on my stomach. At an agonizingly slow pace, they inched further and further under my thin cotton camisole. I felt so violated as his fingers raved my body with me being able to do anything about it.

"You smell delicious, for a mud blood. I can't wait to sink my teeth into you…" He whispered, making my skin crawl. Pain shot me through instantly, as he dug his sharp fingernails into my stomach. Glancing down, I saw my blood begin to turn my top bright crimson.

Without warning, I was knocked off my feet and straight back into the unforgiving hard surface of an oak tree. Ropes sprang out of nowhere and began to bind me against the trunk. The spell rendering me motionless was no longer in effect, but it made no difference because of the restriction from the ropes. I thrashed my head around hopelessly, dying to find an escape where there wasn't one.

"Who are you?" I shouted at the cloaked figure coming toward me once more. My abdomen was flaming red hot with pain, and I was doing my very best not to let it consume me.

"That isn't important. The only thing you need to know is that I was sent here to kill you. Boss said doesn't care how, just as long as it's painful," He smirked, and I could see his teeth in the moonlight. They were sharp and dirty, and I knew that if I did not find a way out of this, they would be the death of me.

"Who sent you? Why are you here! Why won't you just leave me alone!" I demanded, my voice shrill with terror. It seemed that this all was on a much deeper level than I ever imagined.

"You ask too many questions, little girl. Mud bloods should learn to be silent, mud bloods should learn their place. Six feet underground," He snarled, coming closer.

I could see the outline of his face now. It was all hard lines. He was hairy and dirty, and his pointed teeth were bright yellow with grime. His hands were one me again, but not invasively or tauntingly. He was gripping me with so much force I knew that I'd have bruises in the shape of his hand print. His fist hit the side of my cheek with full force and I tasted blood. He continued to hit me, and cut into my skin with his razor-sharp nails. I felt blood gushing down my body at various places as I began to feel light-headed. My eyes were closing on their own accord, and I knew it wouldn't be long until I blacked out.

In one last frantic attempt, I called out for help silently. "George, Fred…please, please help me. He's here, he has me…I can't…I don't know…just please, help me…"

The last thing I remembered before all was lost in a sea of muggy shadows was the hooded man yelling out "Crucio!" and a million flaming knives being pushed into my skin mercilessly.

George's POV.

"George, Fred…please, please help me. He's here, he has me…I can't…I don't know…just please, help me…" Drella's voice begged quietly. She sounded so far away, like she wasn't right by my side. I thought it was a dream at first, just my imagination, but then I felt around beside me. All I felt were sheets, cold sheets. My eyes opened immediately, alarmed. She wasn't there. She wasn't sleeping peacefully next to me where I left her.

Sitting up, I saw Fred do the same directly across from me. Our eyes locked in one of those connected ways we do so often. We knew that something wasn't right, and that we both heard Drella calling for help. As quietly as possible, we both pulled on clothes and exited the room, careful not to wake anyone up. We knew all the places to step around in order to avoid making a loud creaking noise that would surely wake up Kennedy.

But at the moment, neither of us were being careful. I was too rushed, my insides twisted in anger and fear. Whoever was threatening Drella-stalking her-had her. We had no idea where she was or how she even left without anyone noticing. Fred and I placed protective enchantments on all the entrances. I should have heard a loud distinct ringing my ear the second she opened the door. I have no idea how she managed to sneak out without breaking the charm, or how she even knew that it was there to disarm it.

The corridors were deserted, yet all too familiar to my brother and I in it's abandoned stated. We were practically running down the stairs, immensely thankful that they didn't decide to change course when we needed them so badly to stay on track. Turning the corner hastily, we didn't notice the stern-looking cat hidden in the shadows. A second later and McGonagall stood before us, with a warning look in her eyes as if to say that our excuse better be a good one.

"Do explain yourselves, please," She ordered, her noise pointed upward in a way that lacked haughtiness but exuded authority.

"Andrella is in trouble. We heard her…we don't know where she is. She said that he has her, the person who was stalking her," I explained, hating the fact time was wasting away. So much time had passed by, and still we had no clue where she was. What could possibly be happening that we don't know about, what could he be doing to her….

"Very well. In that case, follow me. We'll go to Professor Dumbledore together," She insisted. Turning, she lead us quickly down the path to the headmaster's office.

But I couldn't think beyond my last thought, despite the fact that we were heading to wake up Drella's greatest chance. All I could think about was how Drella was with that lunatic, where he could be doing what he wanted. He could be hurting her right now, making her feel pain that no one as perfect as her should feel. And the darkest cloud on the horizon was the worse to think about. The other possibility of what he was doing to her…against her will…

"Minerva?" Dumbledore mumbled, obviously confused at yet other late night visit. He looked past McGonagall to see us one again. "Come in, come in," He added gravely, stepping out of the way of the doorway to allow us to enter.

"It's Andrella. I cast those protected spells you told me to, and she still got out somehow. She sent Fred and me a message asking us for help. He has her," I explained, my fists clenching with an undeniable rage.

"Sent you a message?" Dumbledore questioned, looking at us intensely.

"Yes, I haven't a clue as to how she did it, but she sent a message to George and me. It was as if she was a voice in my head. But she sounded so distant at the same time," Fred explained, anxiously. I could tell that he was on the same page as I am. Wondering what the hell we were still doing here, and why we weren't out searching for Andrella instead.

"Did you hear anything besides her voice? Any indication as to her location?" asked Dumbledore, who seemed to find no oddity in her communicating with us telepathically.

"No…wait. Yes, there was something. You could hear the rain and the sounds of trees being blown in the wind," I recalled, thinking about it as hard as I could, trying to remember anything that might help.

"The Forbidden Forest. I believe that in the heart of the Forbidden Forest-at the deepest part-we will find Andrella," Dumbledore concluded, finally standing. He rose his hand a broomstick flew into it, without seeming to have a source. "You'll agree that it is better than walking, correct?"

We both nodded our heads, flying was much more time efficient. Unsurely, Fred and I did the same and our Clean Sweeps bashed against our palms. I was half-ready to fly straight through the window from Dumbledore's office, but Dumbledore began leading us out of his office and toward the main entrance.

"Surely you aren't allowing them to come with us," McGonagall explained in shock as we exited Hogwarts, immediately doused with the heavy rainfall.

"Even if I did not allow them to follow along, you know that they'd sneak out moments after I banned them," Dumbledore sighed, mounting his broom. The three of us followed his example and within seconds, we were zooming across the grounds toward the ominous forest edge.

The higher we went, the larger the forest grew. It seemed to stretch on forever, and I couldn't be more thankful of the time the brooms were saving us. I had no idea how Dumbledore knew that Drella was somewhere hidden in its gloomy depths, but I knew that he was right. I could almost feel us coming closer to her every second. Along with the sense of nearing was a stab of pain, a pain signaling we were too late. But onward I pushed, fighting against that last thought.

Finally, after what seemed to be hours no matter how fast we were actually going, we approached the heart of the forest. We were as silent as possible while lowering down to peer into the darkness. Blindly, we searched for her. At last, Fred had spotted two figures standing alone in a clearing, one looming over the other.

I wasn't even thinking straight as I lunged straight into the clearing, able to see Andrella's head of pale blond hair from under a much larger figure. I should have listened to Fred calling my name, calling me back so we could form a plan. But I couldn't. All I could hear was Drella's voice begging for help, and see that man over her, doing whatever he wanted…

I was gone in another rage of fury, as I dove even deeper and extracted my wand from my robes. Without thinking, I began shouting curses and spells and anything else I could think of to possibly stop him. I was out of range and none of them hit the intended target, my aim effected by my anger. But I gave up the most crucial element of all, the element of surprise. The man snapped his head upward in my direct, his face and arms stained with blood. He was savage looking, all teeth and hair. In a second, he was gone with a loud crack.

I couldn't even feel stupid for letting him get away; all I could think about was that I could see Andrella in full now. Her pajamas hung off her in torn scarps of fabric, and her tiny body was drowning in crimson from a plethora of cuts and scratches. I threw my broom aside and kneeled in the mud beside her, cradling her head in my lap. She looked so weak and pale, so unlike the lively girl I saw everyday with a smile on her face. It caused me physical pain to look at her like this, with all this blood falling out of her without there being anything I could do to stop it.

"Minerva, send a patronus to Madam Pomfrey and let her know that we will be transporting a patient in critical condition within five minutes," Dumbledore's tone was serious yet controlled. He knelt down beside me and began muttered spells I didn't understand. The bleeding seemed to slow down marginally, but it would make all the difference.

"George, I want you to take her on your broomstick. Hold her extra carefully, and mind her injuries. Fly her as fast as you can safely to the Infirmary. I give you permission to fly in the halls," Dumbledore directed. For a blank second I just stared at him. 'Now, George, go,"

I bundled Andrella in my arms, holding her firmly to my chest. I didn't care that my clothes were now stained with her blood; all I cared about was getting to Madam Pomfrey so she should bring her back to me. It was difficult to fly very fast while having to support her so much, but not impossible. I was still soaring through the air with alarming speed, and determination.

Losing Andrella was something I couldn't bare to have happen. I…care about her so much, and for so long. She's my best friend, the only person besides Fred that knew me better than I knew myself, and she didn't have the advantage of being my twin. I love her, I know that much. Not like a sister exactly, but something stronger than friendship. I can't really explain it; all I know is that losing her would be like losing the best part of me.

I shuddered, remembering the sick freak that did this to her was still out there. But what worried me most was not what might come in the future, but the present. Everything was happening so fast, without any real order or reason. Just…so fast. And she was losing so much blood, her wounds look so deep. I pressed my finger into the side of her jugular, scratched and bruised. My heart raced fast than it ever has before when I felt hers not beating at all…