Stella Nova Edited

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)(Edited)

31. Chapter 30

Chapter Thirty

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 boyfriend and father and the critical injuries of my 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."

Stella's voice went from angry to suddenly softer, her words more drawn out.

"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 hand 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, hers having done the same, "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? Expelled? Wand snapped? I will warn you that I have multiple wands."

"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. The three camped in the boys' dormitory rather, all planning a bit together after Stella told them about telling Snape she'd done everything, protecting them if there was any backlash. Stella watched as Draco and Tracy became closer, smiling softly as she snuck out of the dorm to give them a bit of privacy, sneaking up to the Gryffindor tower with the assistance of the map. Harry smiled when she crawled into his bed, letting her under the covers.

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 considering that 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. "McLaughy 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! McUnlucky'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 McLowsey'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 and they were all at different stages of brewing.

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 potions book. Stella sighed.

"Well, after working a year in customer service, I almost don't blame Voldemort for becoming evil. 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 Sirius in Grimmauld and then 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 more 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 than 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 a 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. Sadness 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 pass 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 small smile and nodded, as if saying, 'took you long enough.'

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 blond 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 three 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 backwards again, 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 you 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. 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.