AS ALWAYS, MOST OF THIS STUFF THAT YOU RECOGNIZE BELONGS TO THE LOVELY J.K. ROWLING. ANYTHING YOU DON'T RECOGNIZE IS MINE & ALL THE OTHER DISCLAIMER NOTICES YOU COULD CARE TO THINK OF. ALSO, THIS IS WHERE THINGS START TO GET A LITTLE MORE INTENSE, SO IF YOU ARE EASILY UPSET, CONSIDER THIS YOUR FORMAL WARNING FOR THE REST OF THE STORY.

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"The control of elements is a very precise art. One that cannot be taught if the pupil does not already possess the raw potential."

"My flying—" I interrupted Dumbledore.

"Was your raw potential, as well as the aforementioned bouts of levitating. They indicate that the element you are most comfortable with is air," Dumbledore explained, tacking on, "This is not surprising given your nature.

"Learning how to work with air and everything it encompasses, to make it listen to your will, to truly use it in which ever way you wish, will come naturally to you. At first you will have uncontrollable outbursts, usually fueled by strong emotions. But you must remember that this is why you were able to fly without consciously being aware of it. If you had no inclination at all, you would have fallen the instant I took your broom away," He continued.

"Where is my broom, Professor?" I couldn't believe I overlooked my missing broom in my excitement.

"Safely tucked underneath your bed, but as I was saying—"

"Sorry, Professor."

"Other elements will not come to you as easily. In fact, I believe you will have a very challenging time instructing earth in the most insignificant of ways, seeing as it is the elemental opposite of air. You will also have an easier time controlling water than you will fire. With enough practice, it may even come as easily to you as air."

"Changing temperature, that would be controlling the water?" I couldn't refrain from asking.

"Is there something you would like to tell me, Andrella?"

"When I was flying, I was playing in the clouds and I could feel the water but I couldn't feel the cold," It sounded more like a question.

"Interesting, very interesting…"He trailed off and I wish I had the map to follow. "Yes, I do believe that was the first sign of aquatic control, however a true test will be if you could heat the water up as well."

"Shall I try now, sir?" I was eager to try more, do more, and see what I could actually accomplish. I felt as if I had drunk a gallon of fire whiskey.

"No, I think that is quite enough for tonight," Dumbledore said, "Shall we meet again at the same time next week?"

"It can't be sooner?" I asked feeing liberated enough to make such an improper request.

"I'm afraid you'll be finding yourself very busy in the meantime with assignments from your other professors."

"Sir?" I questioned, hoping I hadn't completely spaced on a whole week's worth of work.

"Based on the outcome of tonight, I will be setting up many lessons between you and the other professors," Dumbledore began. "Starting on Monday, you will have a private lesson with Professor McGonagall. She has said you've been coming along nicely but lack the proper focus."

The way he said it made it clear he was expecting an explanation. "I'm sorry professor, I guess I've been distracted lately," I muttered.

"I hope you find the motivation in you to focus before Monday, you will find that your lessons will become much more vigorous. I'm afraid there is just too much for you to learn and not nearly enough time for you to learn it all. "

"Sir?"

"On Tuesdays, you will accompany Harry Potter in the Dungeons for extra lessons with Professor Snape. While Harry will be there for detention, scrubbing cauldrons by hand no doubt, Professor Snape will be teaching you serums to poisons and the like," Dumbledore said, " These are things I would also like for Mr. Potter to learn, but know that Professor Snape does not have the patience for one-on-one lessons with Harry.

"In addition to that, I believe more time spent with Professor Sprout and Hagrid will bring you into more direct contact with earth. By working with the element, and learning how it works and how it physically feels in your hands, it will hopefully warm up to you, and listen to your will with less resistance," Dumbledore explained.

"I would like that," I replied, thinking about how pleasant a nighttime stroll through the forest with Hagrid would be.

"One last thing before I dismiss you for the night,"

"What is it, Professor?" Sitting back down in the chair to give him my full attention.

"The branch of magic we are embarking on is not only very dangerous, and powerful, but also very coveted. As I have mentioned only a few select wizards possess the ability and they are not will known for a reason. If the information of your abilities fell into the wrong hands, it would be very dangerous for you and your loved ones. That is why I will not be revealing the true intent behind the lessons with your professors to your professors and I must ask for you to tell no one about any of the things we do or discuss,"

"But—"

Dumbledore held up the palm of his hand to stop my outburst and as if reading my mind, replied calmly, "You may tell George and Fred Weasley on the condition that you swear them to secrecy. I must ask you to not tell any of your other friends, family, or acquaintances. I am allowing you only to tell the Weasley twins because I know you will need an outlet for all of this difficult information that will be bombarding you, and that telling you to not tell them would only be ignored."

"Very well, Sir. I will tell George and Fred and not a soul else. I will swear them to secrecy and they will not betray me," As I spoke the words, the adrenaline I felt before faded, and I finally caught a glimpse of the great weight of danger and responsibility that went along with my abilities.

"Then I must wish you a good evening and encourage you to rest up for the days to come. Feel free to clear your schedule."

"Goodnight, Professor," I said meekly, eager to get back to Gryffindor Tower. Dumbledore was right, I did need an outlet and I certainly would have told them without or without Dumbledore's permission.

How was I even going to explain it to George and Fred when I had no idea what it means, myself? Oh hey, guess what guys? All that weird shit I was doing? Just a little elemental control. No need to worry. No, it's not normal at all, but it is for me. Because I'm just a big, fat, flying freak.

My mind was raging and I wasn't watching where I was going. I was walking to the Gryffindor Tower on autopilot, mind rattling with the concept of destiny. I took a wrong turn.

"Well, hello there," a disgusting voice leered, as I stepped further into unknown danger. Marcus Flint leaned casually against the wall, surrounded by the most vicious of the Slytherins' Seventh Years.

"A little late for a stroll in this part of the castle, don't you think? A little bit…reckless," He purred, walking so close to me I could smell his putrid breath.

"Just leave me alone, okay? I don't want any trouble," I tried to stand my ground as assertively as possible with a circle of raised wands forming around my back.

"That's too damn bad for you, seeing as that's all that's on the agenda for tonight," He retorted with a chuckle soaked in arrogance.

"Don't even think about it," said Lucian Bole, a Seventh year as brutal as he was beautiful, pointing his wand tip into my jugular as my wand hand went to search under my robe. "Petrificus Totalus," He said apathetically and just like that I fell into his waiting arms.

My eyes cast to the ceiling, I was unable to see what was happening around me, but I felt arms gripping me everywhere and heard the shuffling of feet as well as Flint's demand that someone disarm me and go get Malfoy. I felt someone reach into my robes to get my wand, and stay to find something extra.

"You'll have your turn," Flint barked, and the hand removed itself as Flint bent over so his face was in mine. "In fact, I think we'll all get our fair turn before Malfoy gets here. I have quite a few ideas for what we can do while we wait," his hands crept up my leg, "And I just know you'll enjoy each and every one..."

I panicked, eyes rolling in every direction, looking desperately for a way out, as hands crept under my skirt. I felt helpless without my wand until I remembered I didn't need it. I closed my eyes and wished for time to stop like it did for once before, just earlier this day, which felt like many lifetimes ago.

But I still felt his fingers exploring further, and I couldn't stop them. I kept repeating the words over and over in my mind but nothing happened except his hands pulling up my skirt.

"I never pictured you as the white cotton panties type, Wendling," Flint snickered, sending the rest of the room into a frenzy. I could feel their eyes on me and knew they were getting closer by the shift of tension in the air, closing in around me. His fingers traced the seams of my underwear gently, fear and nothing else made gooseflesh cover my thighs. He took it as something else.

"You like that, Mudblood?" Flint hissed, flashing his best grimace. Without warning he spread apart my thighs so forcefully that my left leg was flung off the side of the desk. He took this as his opportunity to move in closer, so that he was laying over me. His new angle allowed his to assault my neck with unwanted kissed, while whispering horrible things that only I could hear. His fingers moved as slowly as his mouth, drawing out the torture. "I bet you do,"

"I bet you like it when I touch you. I bet it makes you feel special that someone so much better than you would even think about touching you…" he continued to whisper in between kisses, his mouth attacking my ear rather than trying to speak into it. "I am going to fuck you so hard that fucking that blood traitor scum will never feel the same again."

"Would you hurry up, already? I'm third in the queue!" An unidentifiable voice grumbled, shoving Flint further into me.

"You'll get your turn when me and the others are done!" Flint yelled, but still he began struggling to pull my panties down my stiff legs. He had to push them back together to get any further.

I tried to scream but nothing came out.

His hands brushed against my most sensitive area as he pushed them down my thighs.

I felt tears on my checks.

They were at my knees.

I felt myself starting to shut down, but I resisted.

They were at my ankles.

The fingers on his other hand were places they shouldn't be.

I would not let this happen.

They were on the floor.

I could stop it and I would.

I felt my muscles release.

I could move my hand to wipe the tears from my eyes, but I couldn't sit up. Flint was leering over me, his hands working steadily under him, driving my newfound motivation to fight.

I silently demanded the room to stop, for the air around every other living thing in the room cease up hold them just as they are—and it did. The only downside was that everyone else froze exactly as they were, including Flint. I didn't have time for shame or embarrassment; I needed to run. Someone was sent to get Malfoy and bloody who knows else to do who bloody knows what. I was afraid it would be a continuation. I quickly extricated myself from his hold and then kicked him to the floor.

I let the sole of my feet connect with his nose several times before I pulled myself together. There was work to be done and little time to do it. The forced calm caused me to regain my head and along with it its cold and organized, detached thinking that I needed so badly at the moment. Its instincts told me to scan the faces of each one of my attackers until I had every blemish, every freckle and hair committed to memory. I figured the best way to do that was stare them straight in the eyes for a good moment before socking each one of them in the face. They remained frozen as stone but I knew that once the spell lifted they would each have a gushing nose or mouth full of blood.

The satisfaction of knowing that would have to be enough.

Because the next step of the plan required that they would never know. They would clutch their painful faces, with blood dripping down their fingers but they wouldn't know what had happened to them, who had happened to them. They wouldn't even remember how they got into the room, much less that they had ever seen me. It would be like it never happened for them, once I touched my palm to their foreheads and willed their memories of the night away.

I didn't know how I knew that that would accomplish what I wanted it to doubt I did know it would be successful. I could just feel as if that was the right thing to do although I was also certain I had never learned that anywhere. Without another option, I continued along wiping their memories with nothing but the palm of my right hand and sheer determination. I couldn't afford to loose hope without a Plan B. So I finished up and ran off down the hall, ignoring the urge to kick them all in exactly the place they'd want it least. The hair sticking up on my forearms told me it was time to go.

I heard footsteps approaching and I needed to think fast. There was no time to make it up the stairs unseen, the next best option was the secret hiding place halfway down the hall. It wasn't spacious, but large enough for the Twins and I to hide from Filch. It would do as long as I was quick enough to reach it.

I connected my finger to the one the woman outstretched in the portrait and the wall immediately swung open. With the sound of feet hitting the floor getting louder, I squeezed myself into the dark space and swung closed the door. Nearly shrieking at the soft "oomph" and squishy landing, I instead demanded, "What the hell?! Who's there?!" followed by a quick "lumos."

"Elliott?"

"Andrella?"

"Shhhh!" I said, remembering the world outside.

"What are you doing here?" Elliott whispered.

"I could ask you the same thing!"

"Hiding from the Slytherins,"

"Do you make a habit of hiding in secret holes in the walls?" I snickered.

"Not exactly, but I didn't feel like dealing with them tonight."

"Fair enough."

"And you? What's your reason for being here?"

"Same thing, which reminds me, we need to shut up right now."

"What the bloody Hell is this?!" I heard Malfoy yell clear through the wall. He must have stumbled upon my handiwork.

"Where is the girl?" I heard an unidentifiable voice growl. But it wasn't unfamiliar, nor was the shivers that crept up my spine-the Beast from the woods, the man that sent me the notes.

"You said she was here, Montague!" Draco accused.

"She was!" Montague—I'm assuming Grahmn—stammered. "Flint had her in a full body bind!"

"Maybe she's still here." The gruffer voice suggested. "I can still smell her fear," And then I heard a word I choose to ignore, one that sounded like 'delicious'. I heard the footsteps moving into the hall.

There was no time for words so I slapped my hand roughly over Elliott's mouth, while simply holding a finger to my lips and hoped that along with the desperation in my eyes that would be enough explanation.

"Scent dies here," I could practically feel him breathing on the other side of the tapestry. I could hear him sniffing the air. I could feel it. The tension in the air was the tension in my shoulders. "Unless she's hiding in the walls."

There was silence and then a banging on the tapestry. But nothing happened.

"Doesn't seem likely," Malfoy concluded.

"Then what?" The second man boomed.

"We go clean up the mess and wake up those idiots."

"Perhaps for you. As for me, I have to report back to your father, empty-handed once again"

"He said she was here!" were the last words I heard Malfoy yell until the grunting of the awakening Slytherins, groaning from their fresh and unremembered bruises.

I kept my hands firmly clamped over Elliott's mouth long after I heard their footsteps trail away. Even though I was growing evermore aware of how closely our bodies were pressed together, I had to be sure they were gone. I would not be killed by my own impatience.

I slowly removed my hand from his mouth, offering a meager, "I think it's safe now."

"What the bloody hell was that all about?" Elliott remained calm as he had the entire time but raised his eyebrows.

"It's a long story." I tried to shrug it off, which only reminded me how I was pressing him against the wall with my body. He didn't seem to mind.

"It's a long walk back to Gryffindor tower." He urged.

"You live in Ravenclaw and that isn't too far from here." I countered, pulling away from him and opening the tapestry, still very cautious.

"You think I'm going to let you walk alone right now after whatever just happened? Knowing that people are looking for you?"

"You really don't have to do that," I said as we climbed out of the portrait hole.

"But I will, nevertheless." He said, tone firm enough that I knew I should just accept it. And Although I was confident I could handle them now that I was fully prepared, it did feel better to have someone there with me.

"Who was that guy? And what's up with you and Malfoy?" He said brazenly.

"Going right for the heart of it, aren't ya?"

"No better way to get what you want."

"And what is it that you want, exactly?" I raised an accusatory eyebrow, that I hoped effectively conveyed that he should stop it right now and watch himself.

"To know what happened back there."

With a begrudging sigh, I said, "What Malfoy or his father have to do with me, I have absolutely no clue. As far as I'm concerned they are death eater scum and I want nothing more to do with them except to break their faces," With another sigh, I decided I was too tired to fabricate a story at this point and that the truth would be easier. "But the man that was with Malfoy…he's been stalking me for a while now."

"Stalking you?" His incredulity was embarrassing for me. It was if he was either saying I was not enough to have a stalker or conceded for thinking so. He was probably thinking neither.

"Do you remember when I was out of classes for a week?"

"When you were in the hospital wing, you mean?" Elliott corrected.

"His doing."

"And you still don't know who 'he' is, specifically?"

"Nope, but I might be a step closer to figuring it out after tonight."

"How so?" He questioned as we reached the top of yet another staircase.

"I know he's friends with the Malfoys, so he's probably related to death eater scum as well."

"A subject you feel passionately about?" he chuckled.

"Well, don't you?" I rounded on him, not believing what I was hearing.

"Of course, but isn't it sort of a non-issue now? You know with You-Know-Who gone and all?" I could tell he was trying to ease the tension with a joking tone, but it only made it worse.

"And I thought Ravenclaws were supposed to be smart."

"What does that mean?"

"That you have to be either thick or jaded to think that Voldemort is gone for good or that his shady gang of criminals don't exist anymore."

"Okay, so new subject?" Elliott tried.

"I think that would be best." I huffed, trying with all my self-control not to flip out at him.

"So what do you think about this Triwizard Tournament business? Neutral enough waters?" He attempted, with an obvious sense of trepidation.

"I think Harry did an outstanding job with that Horntail," I said honestly, imagining the fair bit of flying he did that day. I could almost feel the wind blowing back my hair, the clouds in my face, and I was back in the air for just a moment. And for just a moment I felt a smile tug at my face. For just a moment, my mood was lifted, until I remembered where I was and why I was there. Talking to Elliott outside of Potions class had been perfectly nice, but I should have been in bed already. I should have been in bed hours ago, with out any occasion to talk to him in the first place. I should have been watching where I was going.

"Yeah, he did well. But I'm more interested in the next task."

"Why's that?"

"I mean if they gave them dragons in the first task, I can't hardly imagine how they're planning to top that."

"You're right. I'm sure it's going to be even better than the first one. They'll probably bring out unicorns or something.

"Perhaps something a bit more ferocious, like a basilisk or a mantacore."

"Not that I'd think they'd release something so deadly into a bunch of teenagers, but if they did use a basilisk it would be a peace of cake for Harry."

"Who I assume you're routing for?"

"Of course! Gryffindor pride!" I laughed, "but I assume you're not."

"I'm torn," he admitted.

"Between him and Cedric?"

"Between him and Fleur,"

"Traitor!"

"My mom is French and my dad is English, so we spent most of our summers in France."

"…And?" I goaded.

"Fleur is a family friend. My grandmother's home neighbors the Delacours." He explained further.

"Still…" I said, but his argument was strong.

"Anyway, I've been meaning to ask you something," Elliott said clearing his throat. We had just reached the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"I'm all ears,"

"I've been meaning to ask since the Ball was announced, before George and you…"

"…Okay?" My heart was beating so loud I could hear it. I did not like where this was going.

"I know its probably a moot point, But I couldn't live with myself if I never asked." After a long pause, he continued with a hopeful smile, "Will you go to the Yule Ball with me?"

Although I knew it was coming, it still caught me off guard, "Oh…"

"It's okay!" Elliott said quickly, "I know you're going with George," He answered with the ghost of his smile that was almost sincere enough to seem practiced.

"I'm sorry," was all I could think to say. Though truth be told, the subject had never come up before between George and I, and for all I knew he had no intention of going.

"Like I said, I couldn't live with myself if I didn't ask."

"We can still be friends, though, right?"

"I would hope so! I would hate to find a new Potions partner this late in the year," He chuckled.

"See you tomorrow, then?" I asked hesitantly.

"Tomorrow it is. Goodnight, Andrella."

"Goodnight," I waved goodbye, turning to say the password but seeing the door was already open.

That's odd. The Fat Lady once had me standing out here for hours just last week for someone to come along because I had forgotten the password. I was too tired to question it now.

I needed sleep.

But I didn't want to sleep alone.

I was almost disappointed that the common room was empty, but at the same time equally glad because it allowed me to get away with my split decision at the split of the staircase. No one was there to see me turn left instead of right. No one was there to see me wonder up to the sixth year boys' dormitory.

I smiled at the scarlet letters on the door reading "COME IN" and knew that George had not forgotten to meet me. After only a second of hesitation, I opened the door, careful not to make a noise as I tiptoed in and closed the door just as silently. I wished I had gotten one of them to show me how to change the words on the door but it was too late for that now.

I was thankful for George's bed being the first one on the right and that I didn't have to stumble too far in the dark. I was genuinely touched at the space he had left me on the bed, which left me just enough room to slip right in. It was an endearing but comical sight to see all of George's gangly limbs being forced to the left side as if there were an invisible line down the middle that would shock him if he veered too far over. I didn't bother undressing and instead settled right into his arms, only bothering to remove my shoes.

Once settled, he greeted me with a groggy, semi-conscious, "I hoped you'd come."

"Can't think of another place I'd rather be," I whispered against his collarbone, nestling down into the warmth of his chest, as his arms wrapped around me like a safety blanket.

I quickly fell into a dreamless sleep. The sound of George's breathing was the only thing that existed.

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HEY, GUYS! Sorry it's been so long. I'd love to say that updates will be coming more regularly as of late, but that would most likely be a lie as I am staring back up with classes in a week. I have not given up on this story! (In fact, another re-read has brought new inspiration). But alas, I hope you have liked what I have written for this chapter and are excited for what is in store. I have warned you once, and I shall warn you again, that very soon this story will be taking a darker turn. In order to due so, I'll possibly have to change around some aspects of the original story. Anyway, that's enough from me for now.

I love you all (anyone who is reading this story) and I would love to hear from you all! Anything at all, positive/negative, whatever. Constructive is best. xD

Ex's and Oh's

Audrey V. Sullivan