Okay, so if you have actually stuck by this story for six years (can you actually believe it's been that long, because I sure cannot!) you know two things by now. First, I do not own anything J.K. Rowling has so generously provided for all of us to love and allowed all of us to run wild with to create these crazy addictive stories we all read and write! Second, I am a horrible, terrible person that procrastinates and often lacks motivation to type up chapters even though I continue writing them. However, enough though it has taken waaaaaaay too long for this story to be told (6+ years!), I am committed to telling it. So, if you stuck with me thus far or if you are just tuning in, please continue to stick with me. Feedback of all variety is always welcomed and more than encouraged.

In fact, this entire chapter and the fact that it was even written and typed today is because of the gentle prodding and support from BGio89. Thank you so much for hanging in there with me through the years! This chapter is for you!

-XXX-

It took ten minutes for us to reach Dumbledore's office and another ten to explain why we were there. It would have taken less, but George and Fred kept interrupting me, with outbursts of violent promises. They only stopped when Dumbledore threatened to make them return to their dormitory.

When I was finished, Dumbledore sat quietly behind his desk for several moments that stretched on into infinity before finally asking, "Do you know what a pensive is?"

"A what?" I replied, completely thrown off guard by the question.

"A pensive. It is a device or tool used to review memories." Dumbledore explained.

"Review memories? How is that going to help?" George grumbled.

"Yeah, shouldn't we be off tracking them down?" Fred chimed in.

"Certainly not." Dumbledore said without any further explanation, as if it was perfectly simple.

"'Certainly not'?" Fred repeated.

"They are long gone." I answered, coming back to the realization I had before the panic attack.

"Very good, Andrella." Dumbledore said with a kind tip of his head. "But the memory is not."

"How does the pensive work, professor?"

I didn't miss the smile Dumbledore directed my way before launching into an explanation of what a pensive was and how it worked. I didn't notice the small, empty vile on his desk until he asked, "May I please have your memory, Miss Wendling?"

"Will it help catch the man?"

"I believe it will." Dumbledore said gently, careful to avoid promises.

"How do I do it?"

"You simply put your wand close to your right ear and remember."

At that I started to loose my resolve. I didn't want to remember anymore. I wanted to crawl into bed and stay there for weeks, but George quickly grabbed my hand and assured me he was right there next to me and you-know-who-himself could not pull him away. Before I lost the nerve, I asked Dumbledore, "Then what?"

"The memory will emit itself in the form of a silvery wisp. You must carefully twirl it around your wand and then direct it into the vile. Are you able to do that?"

I couldn't find words, so I nodded my head, reaching to take the vile from his hands. I was glad George was next to me, to hold my other hand and even Fred, who kept a reassuring hand on my shoulder. I knew I couldn't do it without them. Also, with all eyes on me I knew there was nothing left but to do it.

Like I said, it was easier than expected with both of the twins' support. I was glad Dumbledore told me how the memory would appear or else I would have been startled enough to drop my wand and muff up the whole thing. In a way, I still was. I worked very hard to focus on the man's face; terrified other memories would spill out if I didn't.

Finally I saw the other end of the strand and unfurled it into the vile as instructed. I corked the vile once finished and slid it across the desk to Dumbledore, an odd sensation of emptiness filling my mind.

"Thank you, Andrella." The headmaster said sincerely. He had a way with words that made you do terribly frightening things, but also made you feel proud and accomplished at your ability to complete them. I hoped the positive feelings would come soon.

"How does that work? Why does it do you any good to bottle her memory?" George voiced the thoughts I was too weak to speak. I didn't feel like talking anymore, but knew it was necessary to stay present in the conversation.

Saying nothing, Dumbledore stood and ambled over to a cabinet at the side of his study. Still silent in a way that made it eerie, he opened up the glass doors, and motioned for us to join him.

"This is the pensive and this is how the memory will make itself useful." He explained, calm as ever, tipping the contents of the vile into the basin.

It looked like an object more suited for Professor Trelawney's classroom than Dumbledore's office with its mysterious, swirling surface that seemed to go on forever within its stone basin. When the last of the memory strand twirled underneath its illusionary surface, a picture started to form at the bottom of the pool. I saw myself approaching the bottom of the Astronomy tower stairs.

"Sir?" I asked, still not understanding.

"When you dip your head into it, you will be transported back into the memory, as if you were there again. Except this time we will all be with you.

"Mr. Weasley, if you would." Fred stepped forward as asked and hesitantly tipped his face into the pensive until he fell over and disappeared completely, as if he had tipped over into a well.

"If you would care to join him," Dumbledore said leaving it perfectly clear that these were instructions, not suggestions.

I refused to let go of George's hand, so instead we both put our faces in the pensive allowing it to transport us back into my memory of earlier in the night, when things were simpler still. I felt like Alice falling through the looking glass except the tunnel was shorter and landing more soft, as we crash-landed into Fred who was just picking himself up off the floor.

Dumbledore joined us seconds later, landing gracefully on his feet. Years of practice, no doubt.

"What now, professor?" Fred asked once he had finally managed to rise to his feet, without any more setbacks.

"Now we wait and we watch."

It only took a moment of waiting until Crabbe was coming down the stairs, mumbling to himself. It was then that it dawned on me that I could see myself.

"My invisibility spell didn't work!"

"On the contrary, Andrella. It worked well enough to save your life. We can only see you now because it's your own memory. If we were to review the memory of Mr. Crabbe, you would have remained invisible." Dumbledore explained. "Now, we must follow." He instructed as memory-me began to climb the stairs.

"It's okay, Drella. I'm here. "George said again as my feet refused to take the first step.

"It is just a memory, Andrella, and these people are nothing but a figment of that memory. Nothing can hurt you here. "Dumbledore said. All of them stood waiting for me to make the first move.

"Nothing except the truth." I mumbled under my breath, knowing they could all still hear me as I took the first step.

The second, the third, the fourth and so on were easier once I was already in motion, determined to make it to the top, but then again it always was. I only paused for a split second at the sound of the voice answering to Malfoy, and I only continued walking because George was one step behind, making his close proximity known to me.

"That is certainly Lucius Malfoy, yet the question as to why or even how that is so remains unanswered," Dumbledore all but mused to himself.

We stopped when the memory-me stopped; two steps behind, unable to peer around the corner into a memory that did not exist.

"She's here. I can smell her."

"Bring her to me."

"This is it," I mumbled under my breath, squeezing George's hand so hard I felt the bones. I resisted the urge to close my eyes. Although I would never forget the face, I needed to see it again.

"It couldn't be!" Dumbledore didn't hide his surprise as the man rounded the corner.

Just before I was beginning to dread looking at his foul, pointed teeth as they shined in the pale light of the half-full moon for a second longer; he was gone. Just like before, we were in the Gryffindor sixth year boys' room. Except this time we were only around long enough to see the confusion work its way on to my face. I was thankful we didn't stay for more.

Leaving the memory was much less exciting than entering it. With nothing more than a tilt of the head, we were back inside Dumbledore's office, all cluttered around the small cabinet containing the still swirling pensive.

"What is his name?" I was the first to break the resulting silence that the memory created.

"I can't be certain—" Dumbledore began to say but I wouldn't let him finish.

"Yes, you can! You recognized him and you couldn't believe it but you did know his face." I seethed, not bothering to hold my tongue while talking to the headmaster, " Who is he?"

"Fenir Greyback." Dumbledore admitted with a sigh.

"No!" The twins cried out their disgust in unison.

"I'm afraid so." Dumbledore concluded.

"Who is he?" I asked, not understanding the reaction.

"A werewolf, and the worst of his kind. Completely ruthless, with a mentality of growing and teaching his kind to be just as ruthless." He explained.

I couldn't process the information with endless more question popping into my head. "Why was he with Lucius Malfoy? Why does he want me dead?"

"I'm afraid that I truly do not have answer for either of your questions, only feeble guesses." Dumbledore conceded.

"I'll take anything, Professor."

"As to why Lucius Malfoy would be in the presence of Fenir Greyback this particular evening, I cannot say. However it is know that they were both Death Eaters, or as much as Voldemort would ever allow a werewolf to join his ranks. As to why either would want you dead I am afraid that your guess is truly as probable as mine,"

"Well, how did they get in, then?" George challenged, his shortness mirroring his impatience.

Dumbledore paused for several moments, and thankfully the twinkle in his eyes shown with amusement rather than reproach.

"As they were at the top of the Astronomy table and had no other possible way in, " He started, "Evidence would suggest they flew."

"And nothing will be done about it, will it?" I said to the spot just beyond Dumbledore's left shoulder that I was growing a fondness for.

"About them being in the school or their plot to abduct you?" He countered.

"Either, both."

"Officially, as it were that you were invisible and only the word of a sixteen year old witch can confirm they were present. No, the wizarding authorities will do nothing.

"However that does not mean nothing will be done. I, personally, will do all that I can to ensure that nothing of the sort will ever occur again. However, once again, you must also take extra precautions. That means no more late night wandering, invisible or otherwise."

"Yes, sir." I said, feeling equally comforted and chastised.

"And, Andrella, after your lessons with Professor Moody tomorrow, please report immediately to me, please."

"But—"

"In light of recent events, I think it prudent to speed up some aspects of your lessons. Do you disagree?"

"No, professor."

"In that case, I must insist, off to bed! All of you!"

"Goodnight, Professor." We mumbled half-heartedly. I allowed the twins to lead me down the stairs and out of the headmaster's office, and the rest of the way back to Gryffindor tower in a sort of daze.

I was glad the common room was empty. For one, I didn't think I could deal with any more excitement in one night. Also, I couldn't deal with the hushed whispers as George lead me up to his dormitory without hesitation, certainly not from me. I couldn't sit alone in my own bed, wide-awake, thinking of the possibility and probability of my death without driving myself mad.

Fred broke the silence with a quick goodnight before disappearing behind the curtains of his four-poster and allowing George and I to do the same.

I stayed curled up into his chest, allowing the sound of his heartbeat to calm me down, until I had almost succeeded in falling asleep.

"Will you stay with me?"

"What?" I said, suddenly wide-awake.

"Will you stay with me even after all this is done…" He repeated.

"What? George, I don't understand…" And I was afraid, my mind was racing, each possibility worse than the rest.

"When you're not scared anymore, when Greyback is caught, will you stay here with me? Just like this?" He asked against, sincerity shining through every word. I couldn't see his face, head still buried in the crook of his neck, but his hands were ghosting along my arm. Before allowing me the chance to answer, he sighed against my hair, whispering, "I've gotten used to falling asleep with you here."

"Yes." I answered, barely more than a breath.

"Okay, then. Go ahead." He said smugly, drawing me in closer.

"'Go ahead' with what?"

"With the snuggling and what not." He said very seriously.

"You are such an idiot!" I laughed, pushing him away and then quickly pulling him back.

"But you love me anyway?"

"…I mean, I guess."

"Now, who's being the idiot!?"

"Still you!" I teased, sticking out my tongue. He leaned forward and licked it.
"Ewwww George!

"I'll ask you again." George said, moving to pin me beneath him. His eyes bore into mine and I never felt more naked while completely clothed. "Are you sure you love me?"

"I'm sure."

"Forever?" He breathed against my lips.

"For always." I exhaled, closing the centimeters between our lips.

After a few minutes, George pulled away and once against in a very serious tone, "So, about this snuggling?"

XXXXXXXXXXX

For a moment, when the sunlight from the gap in the curtain first penetrated my eyelids, I thought it was just a part of my dream. A white stream of light instead of red or purple or green, but unlike its colorful counterparts it didn't move and fade away. It remained a Constance announce that eventually made me leave my comfortable position to turn away from the sun. Only when I tried to shift my weight the wall I had been leaning against wrapped its arm around me and pulled me in closer.

Not wanting to move anywhere but closer into George's arms, I abandoned the idea of moving to a more shaded position and instead covered my eyes with my forearm. I allowed myself to pick up on my other sensory information, not quite ready to open my eyes yet. We must have been the only ones left in the dorm, considering the dead silence broken ever so often by a snore from George.

The light on my eyelids was bright enough to tell me that it was late and long past time to be up, but I didn't feel like it. The world was a much less scary place when all it consisted of was a single ray of sunshine. This little fantasy of peace and security only extended to the end of the twin size mattress.

Even still there was a buzzing.

I could feel it tugging now, right at the back of my mind, the darkest corner filled with fear and doubt, the smug little know-it-all-told-you-so-voice. It lived to mock me. "You don't know? Isn't it obvious?" I ran with my thoughts in circles, always ending up at the same place, no further along than where I started and the voice taunts, "and you're supposed to be 'all-knowing'"

And now I know I am crazy, hearing voices and all, but since it's the least of my worries, I haven't got the time to care. I had to solve my own murder before it could happen.

Thankfully before another full mental go around, George awoke with a healthy yawn and a lazy stretch of his arms that pulled me smack against his body.

I squeaked when I felt it, separated by only three flimsy layers. "Good morning, is it?" I teased, feeling my own temperature rise to meet his.

"Good Mornin'," George grumbled, pulling me further into him still.

"Is there something I can help you with?" I said slyly, squirming to try to face him.

His reply came in the form of a strangled grunt, as he pulled himself around, pinning me to the bed with his body. He didn't say anything else but he didn't need to. His eyes were shouting what he intended to do to me. He reached under his pillow to retrieve his wand. After saying a spell aimed at the door he placed it back on the nightstand, returning to face me with that wicked grin.

There was an audible click and a shiver ran down my spine even though I was burning up. I could barely take a breath to prepare myself before I was completely consumed by George.

XXXX

"You know, I think we should start every morning like this," George said, pausing to shoot me a devastating smile as he laced up his shoes.

"Is that so?" I replied, less enthusiastic as yet once again my hair refused to stop shouting 'sex!' with not only a megaphone but a bullhorn as well.

"Oh, yeah. I feel like I could go fight Dragons or something. You just have that effect on me," He winked.

"Not still bitter about that, are you?" I teased, words leaving my mouth before realizing that was one of the worst things I could have said.

"Let's not talk about that, Drella. I'm in an excellent mood right now." He deflected the comment with grace, "And I'm bloody ravished!"

"Are you now?" I giggled, noticing the spot I made on his neck, peeking above his shirt collar and growing redder by the second.

"It's all your fault really! You've tired me out!" George defended himself.

"Yeah, yeah. Let's go get some breakfast."

"You mean lunch?" George corrected, pointing to the clock on the wall. It was nearly midday.

"Damn! Come on, let's go!" I swore, grabbing George's hand before rushing the entire way down to the Great Hall.

Once we arrived in the Great Hall, and made our way to where Fred was sitting with Lee Jordan, both of them rose from their seats to give us sweeping bows and a standing ovation.

"Stop it!" I shrieked, slapping Fred's hand away, before quickly sitting down. I was determined not to draw any more attention to our late entry.

"That's quite a clever charm you put on the door, " Lee commented with an unabashed grin.

"Shut it, will you?" George retorted, piling a more than socially appropriate amount of food onto his plate.

"Afraid they'll run out of food, mate?" Lee continued to jest.

"What did I say about you shutting up?" George said in between large mouthfuls of food, so in all reality, it didn't sound like words, much less distinguishable English.

Fred was about to say a rude comment just as Renae approached the table and I stopped listening.

"Hey, Andi. Do you have a moment?" She said reproachfully. The bags under her eyes looked heavier than her voice.

"Yeah, of course." I said, working quickly to finish buttering my biscuits and wrapping them in napkins. "See you later?" I asked George hopefully.

He mumbled something in the affirmative, steadily working on his second plate of food. I kissed his cheeks, to avoid the gravy dribbling down his chin, before grabbing a goblet of pumpkin juice and following Renae out of the Great Hall.

She led me to the first deserted classroom she could find and locked the door behind us.

"Okay, what's going on Renae?" I asked as soon as I had the chance to catch my breath, suspicious of her blood shot eyes.

"It's Draco. "She said miserably, throwing herself down into a chair.

"What has that little git done?" I seethed, blood already boiling.

"It's not what he's down it's what I've done! And what I've done is make a right prat out of myself!" She cried, hiding her watering eyes in the palms of her hands.

"What are you talking about?" I said, abandoning my breakfast to wrap my arms around her shoulders in the most reassuring gesture I could think of. I felt helpless, but needed to do something.

"Last night! I was so stupid! Why did I drink so much?"

"What do you mean? I thought everything was fine except for Crabbe coming in!" I choked down my revulsion; it was time to be a friend.

"Me too! But I today he'll barely talk to look at me much less talk to me!"

"What—"

She cut across me before I could finish the question. "Today at breakfast, I went over to talk to him and he said he was too busy! /but all he was doing was talking to Crabbe and Goyle!"

"What were they—"

"And then the same thing just happened now! Except he as with her!" Renae ranted.

"Who?"

"Who else but that delightfully horrible pug-faced slag?" Her tone was dripping in the most unflattering sarcastic jealousy.

"No!"

"Yes! He was too busy to talk to me because Pansy bloody Parkinson sank her filthy talons in!"

"But how—"

"Oh, how else?" She retorted, "I've been so bloody stupid! This whole time I bet he's been shagging her, right behind my back!"

"You don't know that—"

"Don't I?" She shrieked again, clearly on the verge of breaking down. "It all makes sense now! He wasn't interested in me, when he was already getting everything he wanted from her!"

"You don't know that for certain." Was the only positive thing I could think to say.

"How could I be so stupid?"

"Will you please stop saying that"? I said impatiently. "You are by not means stupid, so stop calling yourself that. You've…you've just been tricked is all. You wouldn't be the first one to be mislead by his winning smile." It was getting harder to keep the loathing out of my voice.

"OH MY GOD!" Renae suddenly exclaimed.

"What?! What's wrong?"

"That sneaky bastard!"

"Wha—"

"Last night! Crabbe! It was all just a distraction! How did I not see it before?"

"Slow down and explain what you're on about. I can't keep up."

"Last night when Crabbe came and interrupted us! It must have been planned so that he could get me to leave so he could be with her!" She exclaimed in a tone as shrill as the light shining from the light bulb that lit above her head. Too bad she was off, way off—or maybe that really was for the best.

"But didn't he say his father was there?"

"Yes, but that doesn't make any bloody sense that Mr. Malfoy would be here at Hogwarts, never mind so late! It was clearly just an excuse, a poor one at that. And if I hadn't been so pissed I would have seen it then."

Now I finally saw just how difficult it would be keeping last night's events a secret from Renae. I knew I couldn't tell her where he really was last night, why he really left her, or who he was truly with last night; but I also couldn't lie to her. I settled with the most noncommittal yet support thing I could say.

"If that's what he was doing, then you've better off without him. You deserve someone who truly wants to be with you and doesn't blow you off t hang out with his friends or other girls."

"That's easy for you to say," Renae scoffed. "You've got the perfect guy, and what's more, he actually loves you back. Like head over heels, story book, makes you want to Ralph loves you."

I waited several moments, waiting for the inevitable apology.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap or harsh on your relationship. It's just hard not to when my mind is shouting at me to hate him, to get revenge on the both of them and forget he ever existed, "She said vehemently, before triaging off wit her anger. When she continued, there was nothing but sadness in her voice. "But my heart is saying 'stay, try again, what if you never find someone who makes you feel this way again?' and I just really don't know what to do."

"Always follow your heart, but let your mind guide you back if you are lost." I said quietly.

It was now Renae's turn to say "what?"

"It's something my mum used to always say. Whenever I didn't know what to do, she told me that."

"Did you find it helpful?"

"Not particularly. " I admitted with a smile, which I was delightfully surprised she returned.

"What are you doing today?" Renae changed the subject abruptly.

Once again I was faced with the dilemma of withholding truth. "Lessons with Professor Moody."

"Today? But it's Saturday!"

"Yeah, I know," I sighed heavily. "But you know Professor Dumbledore. He wouldn't let a silly think like a weekend get in the way of learning."

"How did your lesson go? You never told me!" Renae said, clearly scandalized, yet too intrigued to stop herself edging forward in her seat.

"Well, whose fault is that?" I shot back, grinning cheekily at her indignation.

"Come on! Just tell me!" She whined.

"Oh, alright. It was fine," again with the lying, but while I was already at it, I thought I'd go the extra mile to keep my promise to Dumbledore. "Kinda boring, actually."

"Boring?! How could it be 'boring'? You brought your broom!"

"Yeah, well. I didn't get to use it." I said, adding a dash of bitterness to my tone, hoping it would help make my case.

"Whadaya'mean?"

"Took it to check for hexes."

"What? Why?"

"Yeah, seems he's been meaning to do that since the attack. Slipped his mind or something."

"But haven't you flown it since then?"

"No, haven't had time to." I thought quickly, thinking of a plausible excuse. "You now with the extra lessons and George and all."

"I suppose with him around, you've found a better way to let out steam." Renae grinned. "Tell me, what kind of "extra lessons" has he been giving you?"

"Renae!" I shouted, scandalized yet amused by her brashness.

"Don't act like you're innocent! I see that spot peaking out from under that color! And that hair! No amount of smoothing elixir could tame that mess!"

"Okay, okay!" I relented, pulling up my shirt color as if it was a turtle shell to hide in.

"No, but seriously. I'm glad everything is going well. It is going well, isn't it?" As she said it, her eyebrows rose above her left eye, fishing for gossip.

"Yeah, it is. George finally asked me to the ball ad he said he had a surprise for me, too, but I don't know what that's about." I added quickly, seeing the mist building in her eyes.

"That's great, Andi. Draco hasn't asked me and now I bet he'll ask that-"

"OH! I FORGOT TO TELL YOU!" I interjected remembering the one true piece of gossip I could actually tell her.

"What is it?" My tone of surprised appeased her resentment of being interrupted.

"Elliott asked me the to ball, too!"

"WHAT?!" She shouted, latching onto my forearm.

"Elliott Napier asked me to the Yule Ball the other night."

"But when? How? Why? Details, woman, give me the details!" Renae scolded.

"I ran into him a couple of nights ago on the way back from Dumbledore's office and he insisted on walking me back." I hurried over these details, skipping the most crucial part that the teenage girl in me urged to divulge, but the promise of a much wiser woman kept my mouth shut on those particular aspects. "And he asked me once we go back to the Tower!"

"But why?" He knows you're with George! Everyone does! You two don't exactly skimp on the P.D.A."

"P.D.A.?" I repeated.

"Public Displays of Affection" She explained.

"I know what it means!" I snapped, "When did you start using muggle slang?"

"I've picked up a few thinks over the year. But never mind that! What did he say? What did you say?"

"He said that he knew I was going with George but he 'couldn't live with himself if he didn't ask'."

"And what did you say to that?" She was hanging on the edge of her seat in a rather dramatically comical fashion.

"Just that I was going with George and I hoped we could still be friends."

"And wh—"

"And he said of course and that he wished me good night and then he just left."

"Wow."

"'Wow' what/" I asked, respecting a reaction but not that one.

"It's just that—well, I'm sorry, but I thought he would have gotten over you by now."

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh, come on, Andi!" Renae sighed with absolute exasperation, but a small smile still shone through.

"What?"

"I know you never had eyes for anyone else but George, but it's so obvious that he liked you!"

"No! No way! That's just ridiculous," I refuted, my cheeks flushing on instinct.

"Yes, he does Andi! Why else do you think he's chosen to stay with you for potions all these years although the houses rarely mix partners!"

"That's because we make a good team and we've become friends!"

"But he's always wanted to be more than friends with you!"

"We've been partners since we were eleven, Renae! We're just friends!"

"I know you are, but he fancies you! Why else would he bother asking you out, knowing full well that you would be going with your boyfriend?"

"Well, I don't know. That was weird, but he doesn't—"

"But nothing, Andi! He fancies you. I know it. You didn't see his face when he came to visit you in the hospital wing."

I paused for the first time. I never heard mention of this before. "What do you mean?"

He busted in the day after it happened, demanding to see you. But then he saw George sitting next to you and ran right back out." She explained then as an after thought, added, "Fred ran after him though."

"What?!" I cried, horrified by the possibilities.

"Yeah, I don't know what happened but Elliott never came back."

"Fred never said what that was all about?"

"No, he didn't. She said, allowing herself to remember. "And it was weird because George asked him. They actually got into a little bit of a fight because of it."

"Renae!" I screeched, hitting her arm repeatedly.

"Hey, stop that!"

"As my best friend, it is your duty to tell me these things! Your womanly obligation!"

"Sorry, Andi! I was a little more interesting in you coming out of your comma!"

"Oh…right." The thought stopped my steadily climbing mood in an instance. I was back in the Forbidden Forest, staring down the promise of death in the eyes of the monster that I now know is known as Fenir Greyback.

"You okay, Andi?" Renae's mood broke, too and worry rushed to fill in the cracks.

"Yeah," I said unable to meet her eyes at first, busy concentrating the bubbling thoughts to remain under the surface. "Yeah, I'm just late for that lesson with Professor Moody."

"I still think that's cruel and unusual punishment."

"I know but if they end saving my life, then I wouldn't be complaining." I replied. I was surprised by how morose my voice sounded and I was shaken by my inability to shake these unwanted feelings.

"Well, what are you doing tonight?" Renae asked, hopefully to change my spirit as well as the subject.

"George and I have plans. I think it might have to do with that surprise he mentioned."

"Oh, all right, and tomorrow?"

"Can't remember making any plans."

"Do you want to make plans? Fair warning, they need to involve me catching up on my homework."

"Yeah, that sounds great." I smiled at her.

"It's a date then. You, me, and mountains of blank parchment with approaching deadlines!"

"Cheers!" I mumbled sarcastically, sounding as if I would very much rather attending another one of Sir Nicolas' Death Day parties.

"Aren't you late for something?" Renae teased, lightly pushing me down the hall leading to the defense against the Dark Arts classroom.