She could feel the blood pumping through her veins and the sweat dripping from her forehead. The sad fact was that she knew there was no point in being nervous: he was obviously already dead.

Her husband had not been home for days, which at first made her wonder if he wished for a divorce, but he had not taken anything with him. No clothes, no money, no anything. However, this did not make her worried then; it made her petrified, truly petrified.

The weeks had dragged on and she was trying her best to keep her fears from her daughters, who were highly suspicious – especially the eldest. It was hard not to be when you were home schooled and your father was nowhere to be found. It was a good thing that the youngest got into the American academy so she only had to worry about one child.

“Where is he?” the eldest daughter finally asked one day.

The mother looked up at her. For so long she had kept it quiet, but for some reason, her instincts were telling her to reveal her thoughts to her daughter at this moment. Perhaps her instincts were right.

“I don’t know, Demetra.” She began to cry. “I don’t know.”

Demetra’s expression slowly turned to one of sorrow as she watched her mother sobbing into her hands. It couldn’t be true. He wasn’t missing. If it was true, it only meant one thing

“Mother, did he leave an envelope?”

Her mother looked up. “What’s the importance of that?”

“Everything. Mother, Dad left something behind, in an envelope, with the intention of passing it on. Not to me.”

Her mother’s eyes widened. Was this the secret that was hidden for far too long? If so, why would he want to give it to his youngest daughter? Perhaps with Demetra’s condition he did not want to make life any harder for her. Then why not leave it to his wife? For so long she was loyal to him, so why would he not trust her?

“Demetra, what was in the envelope?”

“I don’t know. Nevertheless, maybe that is why he has gone – Mum, do not cry anymore. Listen to me. We have to hide it. Hide it from her. Or at least cover up what’s inside it.”

“We don’t know where it is,” her mother protested, standing up. “And even if we did, this thing must be so scandalous that your father has been taken away. I don’t know about you, but that isn’t exactly an appealing reason to read it.”

“True. However, we can still hide it. If nobody can find the envelope, it would be impossible to pass on.”

Demetra’s mother nodded, grateful for Demetra’s strength and wise decisions. Suddenly she was flooded with guilt for leaving her daughter in exile from the outside world. She was not pure human, but there was still some inside her. Moreover, she was not the monster that her mother thought she might turn out to be.

“Mum?” asked Demetra’s younger sister, sitting on the stairs.

“Darling, go back to sleep.”

“What is this all about? Is this about where Dad is?”

Both Demetra and her mother looked forward, refusing to look in the inquisitive eyes of the young girl. The strength in them was too powerful to face.

“Actually, we were having a discussion about us moving back to England.”

“What?” the girl demanded. “Why?”

“Well,” began Demetra, not sure what to say. Suddenly, an idea popped into her head. “The school has decided that perhaps you aren’t the right pupil. Your behaviour is not to the standards they wish it to be.”

“Stuck-up gits,” her sister sniffed.

“Yes, indeed. Now go back to bed darling.”

“Why can’t I be part of the discussion? What is it that you’re not telling me?”

“If we told you, it would lose the whole purpose of not telling you.”

“What Mum meant to say,” interrupted Demetra, not sure about what her mother was saying, “is that it’s a surprise. Now go upstairs or you’ll never get it.”

“I’m not five, Demmi. I know very well that’s a load of –”

“Don’t swear!”

“Well don’t keep secrets, Mother, and maybe we can cooperate.”

*~*~**~*~*

The house was silent for the rest of the night. After Demetra and her mother discussed the plans, they finally understood what it was they had to do.

“It’s for her, Mum.”

Demetra’s mother gave a nod, not sure whether she believed that statement and went up to bed. When her mother was out of sight, Demetra really started to panic.

I shouldn’t have read it. Dad’s been taken away, and they’ll take me next – if they know that I have read it. What if they come for her anyway, even if they hadn’t known that she was unable to inherit the letter? But what can I –

Demetra’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the gravel crunching outside. Demetra first tried to convince herself that she was hearing things, that her nerves were making her paranoid. But soon she heard a knock on the door and then a bang.

“Sorry about this,” the witch said with a smirk plastered on her face. “I know I’m a little late but I thought I’d come to pay a visit.”

Demetra was about to run, but she was too late.

“Stupefy!”

For that moment, Demetra’s whole body was paralysed. Eventually, she could move her mouth and she muttered, almost inaudibly, “Help.”

“Oh, darling, I put a Sleeping Charm on them all upstairs. Even if you brought in an entire symphony orchestra they wouldn’t be able to wake up.”

“Don’t hurt her.”

“I won’t if she is nice and tells me what I want to know.”

“She doesn’t know anything.”

“But he passed it on to her. I know that envelope; it should have gone to me. But my grandfather wasn’t too keen on my intentions.”

“It’s hidden.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know.”

“Crucio!”

Demetra’s body flung back against the wall and she gave an agonising scream to reflect her pain. The witch came closer to her and pulled her up, so that her midnight blue eyes burned into Demetra’s. “I think you do. Tell me or you, and eventually this entire household, will be dead.”

“You can’t find it without us. We’re the only ones who know where it is.”

“You make a valid point,” the witch started to ponder, sitting on the armchair. “I do need you to find it.”

“The information in it is too dear to just search for it.”

“How would you know? Unless…”

Demetra now realised the huge flaw in her persuasion.

“Unless you know,” finished the witch.

“I don’t.”

“You’re lying.”

“You can’t use the information in it anyway. It has nothing to do with plans, but people.”

“Which people?”

“I won’t say.”

“Crucio! Which people?”

“You’ll … never … get … it … out of –”

“Crucio! One more time and you will be dead. Tell me now! Which people?”

“Go on then. I will never utter the name.”

“Avada Kedavara!”

And the room fell silent but it was soon interrupted by the witch’s cackle.

“Doesn’t she know that she didn’t die for a cause? She died putting everyone else in danger,” the witch said in a singsong voice.

However, the shock came about when the witch went upstairs to find that the two remaining family members in the house had disappeared. It meant that either they both or just one of them managed to wake from the charm. Either that or it did not affect them at all. Then, to her own surprise, she smiled. “Hide while you can, little girl. I’m coming for you.”

2 YEARS LATER...

"I'm going to Hogwarts," chanted Lily Potter repeatedly in excitement, skipping along Platform Nine and Three Quarters.

James smiled politely in response, although he had been wanting to rid himself of her all through the car journey and every moment in King's Cross since as she continued to praise the fact that was going to finally be one of Hogwarts' students - a moment she had been waiting for since she was seven, when James first came to the school of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"Lily, will you please shut up?" However, Albus was much more vocal about how annoying Lily had became over the past week.

"Al," began James, taking pride in his authority as the elder brother, "you were just as excited as Lily when -" James could not finish his lecture, as Albus had wandered off. This left James with Lily and Hugo, who was shyly walking behind.

Lily's eyes became wide as steam burst from the Hogwarts Express. "Come on, Hugo! I want to be the first on!"

The two first-years walked away from James, after a loud yelp from Hugo, and now James Potter finally could have a moment of peace.

Walking through the masses of overenthusiastic students and anxious parents, James searched for a familiar face and for a while but had no luck. Now and again, students would stare at him and he could hear the odd sentence which usually, one way or another, had 'Harry Potter' somewhere in there.

One second-year took a deep breath and walked right in front of James. Even though he knew what was about to be said by the girl, he smiled patiently and tried to quickly escape. Unfortunately, the second-year had a particularly strong grip.

"You're James Potter, aren't you?" Her voice was high and childish and it was obvious that she was trying her best to make it sound professional.

"Yes," replied James blandly. He then tried again to step away but the girl's hand was still clutching his arm.

"Wow. So you're Harry Potter's son? The Harry Potter's son?"

It was clear that the girl was not going to let James so free until she had a full interview. He sighed and finally said, "Yes."

Next time, he thought to himself angrily, just lie.

The girl beamed at him and her hold on James' arm became loose but still in place, ready for any escape plan. "That is so amazing! He was so brave... I'm sure that he has told you loads of stories!"

"Yes, so I heard. However, he usually just reminisces with his friends ... and his wife." James made sure to stress the fact that his father was in a relationship as it was crucial. It was the only way that the girls knew that asking James what his father's shoe size was and then giggling was probably not appropriate.

"Oh, I know. Ginny. She's really good at Quidditch." The girl then took her hand off his arm and held it out. "I'm Esmina Dunlop."

James never knew the name but he recognised her. Esmina liked to think that she was more mature than she actually was. This made her feel that she was entitled to try and become best friends with the seventh-years. Good luck, Victoire...

"Nice to meet you." It was not as if James could introduce himself; she already knew him.

After another failed escape attempt, James stood for what felt like an eternity while she rambled on about herself, now and again batting her eyelashes at James.

"You probably don't care about that though..."

Damn straight. James shook his head. "No, that's really interesting. I mean, who knew it was so hard to tan..."

Esmina continued her own audio autobiography until finally, Esmina turned as a hand was placed on her shoulder. Doing so, she now became face-to-face with Venice Adams.

Venice, properly pronounced Ve-niece rather than the city - something which Venice found she always had to point out, was one of the most feared girls in the school. Her back combed, ginger hair matched her angry personality and her eyes were often hidden by a thick rim of eyeliner and mascara. Fortunately for James, Venice also happened to be one of his best friends.

"Oh, Venice!"

"Ve-niece," spat Venice impatiently.

"Of-of c-c-course!" Esmina looked as if she had been struck around the face. "I-I -"

"Walk away." Venice's glare went through Esmina like a dagger.

Esmina nodded weakly in response and scurried away. Venice expression transformed to a friendly and pleasant grin. "God, I love it when they run. Cracks me up every time."

James wrapped his arm around her. "Thank you."

"Come on." Venice begun to walk towards the train. "We need to get a compartment before it's full."

"What about the others?"

Venice grunted. "Have you already blocked it from you're memory? They're prefects now."

He probably had. James never thought that he would become prefect but he certainly did not think that the others would. Lola was the most likely one but she was hardly an asset to the school and Aidan was a complete surprise; the boy cared more about his toenail than school issues. Hearing the news, it made James question for the first time why he did not get it. Before then, the badge did not really mean anything to him.

~*~*~**~*~*~

The landscape rapidly passed James by as he looked out, his cheek pressed against the frosty window. Venice looked at him for a few moments and then kicked him and said, "For Merlin's sake, James, being a prefect isn't a big deal anyway. I'm not a prefect..."

"I'm not bothered about that," lied James.

"Look, either this prefect thing is eating you up inside or you're fantasizing about Lola Dukes again, which I really hope isn't true." Venice then muttered under her breath, "There are other women here, you know..."

James bolted up. "I am not!"

"Sure..."

"What? Do you really think after all this time I would still like her? You might as well say that I spent the whole summer pining over her..."

This fact was sadly true. Ever since Lola Dukes came over from America two years ago, James had felt drawn to her. She was slightly vein and obnoxious sometimes but James still could not resist watching every step she took, he certainly enjoyed the view. The summer was unbearable as he could not see her face once. He had pondered over sending her a message by owl but removed the idea from his thoughts, concluding that it was too desperate.

This, Ladies and Gentlemen is the son of The brave, honourable Harry Potter!

"Whatever," muttered Venice, taking a large bite from her chocolate frog. "Because if not, James. You know, she's not as great as everybody thinks. I mean, seriously, she can be a bit of a bitch sometimes. You can do so much better..."

"Like who?" said James absently.

Venice glared at James. "Sorry, I was wrong. You two are perfect for each other."

"You just said she was a bitch."

"I know," stated Venice.

James laughed at Venice comment, even if she did not see the comical side of it. "Sorry. But I assure you, Venice, I have no interest - "

Before James could finish, the lights of the compartment and the whole train went out. Immediately, Venice and James were both thrown to one side by a sudden jolt. Venice stood up and peered out of the window. "We're not moving."

"Well done," said James sarcastically. He tried to stand up but he began to feel dizzy. Venice appeared to be swaying.

"James?" Venice noticed James' weak appearance.

"I just feel a little..." James then collapsed to the ground.

"James!"

Everything around James began to become blurry.

"James!"

He began to slip away.

"James..."

And everything fell silent.

The steps continued down a long corridor - or what James thought was a corridor. The image was blurred and it was increasingly hard to make anything out.

"We can't just leave them to die!" The woman's voice was shrill with anxiety.

"We have no choice, we have to think of the bigger picture!"

"It's you that should be fighting, it's your battle!"

Their shouts stopped after one, high pitched and horrifying scream and everything returned to the former darkness that James had come from...

"James!"

James slowly opened his eyes, trying to separate reality from the illusion. The train stopping - that was real; the two girls arguing - that was fake; him fainting - that was real; the scream - he knew it was fake, but in the back of his mind, it felt so real. It was the one part of it that he did not feel disconnected to.

"I'm... I'm fine," said James feebly, scanning the scene around him.

Venice was above him, holding onto his shoulders and shaky him lightly until he sat up. A few students he did not recognize were scattered around him, probably a chosen representative from each compartment to see what was happening to the Potter boy. The last thing he saw, which brought a smile to his face, was his two other friends: Lola Dukes and Aidan Hardcastle.

"How are you feeling?" Lola's accent felt like soft music to James' ears, being the first time he had heard it since the previous year.

"I'm fine. Just a little faint."

"You sure, from what Adams said, you just fainted out of nowhere."

Venice snorted with displeasure. Adrian had become accustomed to calling Venice by her last name, feeling that it suited her true gender more. For a while, Venice gave him another nickname, feeling that it suited his nature more, but the Professors argued that they had never heard such obscene language, and never wish to in the future and the nickname had come to an end. Alas, Adams lived on.

Freezing for a moment, James tried his best to remember the dream again. It had become more of a passing memory to him but one thing stayed with him. The scream. He could never forget the scream...

"Mate, are you alright?"

"Yes. I told you, I'm fine."

Lola knelt down beside him and he could have sworn that he heard Venice wretch. "Are you sure? You look awfully pale..."

"Well... I am a little..." James shook his head as he pondered about how pathetic he'd seem. "No, I'm fine."

"Okay but..."

Coughing, Venice stepped forward. "He's fine. No mothering needed."

James could not help but let out a small laugh, which made Venice's smile softly widen while Lola grunted and slowly turned away, muttering, "I'll go change."

"I'll come with you." Venice's previously sarcastic mood had disappeared slightly as she walked slowly after Lola.

"So we're off again."

"Yeah, although I don't see why it took so long -" Adrian stopped for a moment as he looked at James' expression and explained, "You've been out for a couple of hours."

"Really? What was the problem?"

"Not sure. But come on. How could they not have fixed it in ten minutes. I don't know if this had escaped whoever was in charge but there is this little thing which usually makes things work at an impeccable rate... what was it? Oh yes, magic."

Once again, Adrian's gift of bringing a smile to James' face had struck again. Even though Adrian demanded that everybody should take him more seriously, it was hard to when his timing and natural character was one of the most comic things that James had ever come across. If Adrian was someone to be taken seriously, James probably would not have been his friend.

"Oi! All I'm saying is, a wand can pretty much fix everything. So the amount of time it took was just stupid. Well, now we're off again but frankly, I'm not looking forward to the new year now. Probably wouldn't have minded an extra couple of hours."

"Why?"

"Adams."

"What have you done this time?"

"I met her sister."

James' eyes were wide with anticipation. He had heard stories about the rest of the Adams family. The name itself had some interest - well, not to James but it had amused Adrian, explaining that it was a Muggle thing every time James asked why. Venice had never said much about her actual relatives except that her mother was hard to bear and that she had a father and a younger sister. However, any other information was strictly prohibited.

"And?"

"She's... well... I don't really know how to say this..."

"Well?"

A grin formed on Adrian's visage as he said, "She's girlie."

The pause lasted a couple of seconds before James gasped, "No." instantly regretting it because he felt like a gossiping schoolgirl.

"Yes. She's blonde -" that alone was enough to shock anyone "- pretty, no makeup, high voice and when she bumped into me she actually said, 'Excuse me.' I would never have recognised her."

"But how did you know it was her?"

"Her name's Verona. Wait - Ver-on-a."

"Oh..." Clearly, it was a hobby of their mother's to give her children names of Italian cities with the wrong pronunciation. But you had to hand it to Mrs. Adams: probably no other mother had thought of it before her.

~*~*~**~*~*~

The Great Hall was as brightly decorated as always. The candles floated gracefully above their heads as they entered and approached their seats.

"Adams, I just bumped into her -"

"You had a conversation. Don't lie! You two were chatting away. Oh and -" Venice's face was an inch apart from Adrian's as she said, "I am not called Adams."

Lola sat down awkwardly, trying to hide the fact that she was craning her neck to see if she could see a young Adams in the line. James sped to sit next to her without seeming too obviously keen to get a chance to speak alone with her while the other two squabbled.

"Do you think you can see her?"

"Nope. The first few are boys so no luck there."

"We'll still get a good look at her when she gets sorted."

"For the last time, there's nothing to be ashamed of. She's quite nice."

"Oh please. She's like having a sack of chocolate shoved down your throat - too sweet and very uncomfortable."

Adrian tried to argue back, but Venice had slumped down onto the table, signaling that the conversation was over as the Headmistress stepped up for his speech.

There was always some argument as to whether or not Professor Sarah Fawcett deserved the role as Headmistress. She was young, just a year younger than James' father, and had been thought among the students as an unexpected candidate. While her intelligence could not be denied, possibly being one of the most intelligent people of the newest generation, there were others with more experience and more wisdom, especially on the teaching staff.

Nevertheless, James had always appreciated her and found her a thoroughly interesting and good Headmistress.

Unfortunately, her words were lost to James as he peered around to view the sorting. When the procession began, James, Adrian and Lola sat up a bit more as Venice slumped down.

"Abery, Cynthia."

Lola sighed. "How long will this take?"

The sorting hat took a deep breath before booming, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Their bench applauded loudly as she hurried towards their table but soon it died down as the next name was called. "Adams, Verona."

"Ver-on-a."

The voice was completely unexpected. Although James had expected something sweeter than Venice, from what Adrian said, he could not help but find the voice musical.

"Pardon?"

The girl came on and muttered softly, clearly correcting Professor McGonagall. Her hair was in blond waves that come down to her shoulders and her eyes were wide and intrigued, completely unlike Venice's, who were now closed with embarrassment.

"Oh yes. Verona."

Etching further a little more, Verona hauled herself onto the stool and the hat was placed on her head and her eyes searched and she smiled as they finally landed on Venice. However, Venice did not return the smile, instead focusing hard on the table in front of her.

“GYFFINDOR!”

Verona smiled with glee and jumped down from step to step and hurried along to the table, tapping Venice on the shoulder as she sat upon her seat.

“See. She’s not embarrassed of you.”

“Shut up.”

Adrian slumped down again as he surveyed Venice’s glare in his direction.

“Shame. They’d be a cute couple,” mused Venice.

“I can think of people better suited for each other.” However, James was not prepared to reveal that he thought it was the two of them.

The evening continued, the argument between Venice and Adrian rising and dropping at random stages. This was until finally, James heard someone call, “Lily Potter.”

This name had everyone in the room’s attention. This was not uncommon that a Potter took control of the scene, reminding everyone of their all time hero: Harry Potter. James only wished that her face was not displayed in front of everyone so that they would know who to come and interrogate.

James could remember when he himself was sorted. Gryffindor could not be more pleased and half the table gave him a standing ovation. When Albus got sorted, they were used to having a Potter but still looked smugly over at the other houses.

The silence was too long for comfort as the hat muttered to himself and Lily replied just as inaudibly. Finally, the hat looked up and shouted, “HUFFLEPUFF!”

James was in shock and was not the only one at that. Looking to his side, he spotted Albus with his mouth gaping open in disbelief. There was no doubt that they would be surprised. Every member of their family that they could think of was in proud Gryffindor.

This went through Lily’s mind, as well. While the Hufflepuff table was cheering with more enthusiasm than James had ever remembered in his five years at the school, Lily stalked down with a scowl fixed on her face. However, the grimace that was so keenly revealed had completely washed away from her face as she sat down with a sudden look of panic.

And looking around, he saw that Lola shared it. And it clicked as he remembered why the scream was so familiar.

It was Lola Dukes’

*~*~**~*~*

Everyone started following their prefects but James had a different plan. He couldn't stand being around other people, definately not while all these thoughts were swirlling through his mind at an uncontrolable rate.

He began to sprint, not caring which direction he was going in. All he needed was the get away so he could have some time to himself, away from the excited first-years and his friends.

He was breathing deeply, his chest heaving in an out with such intensity that he could almost cry due to the lack of oxygen. If his pulse hadn't slowed down, the blood no longer rushing to his head, he would not have noticed that someone else was there with him.

Her eyes were dark, but ghostly at the same time and her skin was as pale as he ever remembered. Her gaunt face revealled one of some anguish, her soul clearly still tortured.

"Hello, Caprilla."

Caprilla Tulson was one of the people he least wanted to see. She wasn't a perticularly bad person, she was just odd. It was revealled in their first-year that she enjoyed burying dead birds. It was especially awkward between them because her arch enemy was none other than Venice Adams.

This wasn't just an ordinary hatred. Venice tormented Caprilla to a point where nobody wanted to speak to her anymore. James had to admit, he did take some part in it but he admired Venice so much in that year and Caprilla was gothic and bizarre.

"I didn't expect to see you here," she said calmly, standing up from her crouching position. She then swiped her sleeve over her eyes; she had clearly been crying.

"Yeah," replied James nervously, "but I thought I'd also get away from the beginning of the year festivites..."

"No, I mean here, in the girls' bathroom."

Hearing this, James took a moment to survey his surroundings. He had never actually been in the bathroom, but the faded colours and lack of urinals certainly showed that it was for the female gender.

"Who is it? Tell them to go away!" schriek a voice behind one of the stalls.

Rolling her eyes, Caprilla shouted back, "Calm down, Myrtle, it's only Potter."

"Harry?" Suddenly the voice was slightly more enthusiastic.

"No, James."

"Oh..."

James' eyes sprang open in alarm as a ghost went through the cubicle door. Of course! This was the bathroom that Moaning Myrtle occupied. James had only ever heard of her, but he only needed those few seconds to understand everyone else's dislike for her.

"Well, sorry to disturb you... I was just leaving - wait." James noticed that something was lying on the ground. Picking it up, he discovered that it was an envelope and it revealled that it belonged to Caprilla. "This is yours."

He held it out but she immediately replied, "No it isn't."

"But it's addressed to you."

"Oh sure, then I open it and a dung bomb flies out at me."

"No seriously, it was right there on the ground!" Even though it was probably justified, James was still hurt that Caprilla thought that he was constantly preparing for attack.

"It was," said Myrtle in agreement. He was momentarily relieved but then he saw her eyes look him up and down and he became slightly afraid.

Looking back at Myrtle for reassurance and shuffled towards James. Grabbing the letter, she looked around it and then her eyes widened. "Thank you." Her voice faltered slightly and she backed away.

"I'm not going to attack you, Caprilla, so you have stop looking at me like I'm about to pounce," stated James with irritation after both she and Myrtle insisted on being a couple of feet away from him. "If you look at the bigger picture, I haven't been -" James stopped in confusion.

"What?"

"Nothing," replied James. Why had the idea of the bigger picture seemed so familiar to him?

Caprilla's lips parted in speech but she was cut off by a deafening scream.

Sarah Fawcett couldn’t stand her position as Headmistress. As soon as she remembered who blabbered onto her about how fulfilling and rewarding it was, she was going to hex them. Was it just the fact that she was a Hufflepuff, or that she was a female, or that she was one of the youngest witches to have ever taken on the position, she would never know. However, she was definitely sure that true respect from her fellow colleagues was very rare. They were not rude, per say, but she found that they never really looked at her in the same way that they might have to someone such as Dumbledore – though, it is generally accepted that Dumbledore was one of the most respected men.

Pacing in her office, as she frequently did, her head shot up as she heard a loud, rather distressed, scream. Halting, Sarah prayed to herself that it was just in her imagination. However, the portraits muttered in a very anxious tone and she knew that her chances of a calm afternoon were incredibly slim. School hadn’t even technically started and there was already trouble. It was just one of those things that would cause countless of letters to go out in a lame attempt to get her fired.

“You should go now,” said the portrait behind her.

“I know,” replied Sarah irritably, raising her wand. “I’m just figuring out how to pull of the situation like you, Albus.”

That was one thing Sarah could never completely feel comfortable with calling one of the greatest wizards of all time by his first name. However, it seemed only professional to do so and Sarah never wanted to offend Albus Dumbledore, even if he was only a portrait and an echo of the truly great spirit.

The portrait of Albus Dumbledore beamed. “Sarah, I am sure that you are perfectly capable of handling this school without my advice.”

Easy for you to say, thought Sarah as she walked out of the office. Her footsteps were light and she bounced down, only to be stopped by the Gargoyles below, who seemed to have not noticed her presence... again.

“Hem, hem.” Even though it sounded disgracefully like one of her old Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers, Professor Umbridge, it seemed to be the only way to grab their attention.

The gargoyles turned around, and, with what Sarah was determined to believe was a smirk, they leapt aside to let her through. Not bothering to listen out for their sniggers as she walked away, Sarah strode forward, not caring that she didn’t actually have a clue where she was going.

Sir Nicolas de Mimsy Porpington, informally known as ‘Nearly Headless Nick’, floated towards her and reported, “It came from the third floor corridor.”

“Thank you, Nicolas.” It had taken a while for Sarah to get out of the habit to call him by his more famous nickname, but the ghosts seemed to accept her and she was going to keep that respect, even if she would have to call the Grey Lady ‘Dame’.

When she had reached the third floor, she knew that she was in the right place. There were loud sobs surrounding the area and in which they entered and a blonde girl was in tears, her hands covering her face.

“Excuse me,” said Sarah cautiously.

Lower her hands, Angela Hallington revealed her face. Seeing Sarah, she gasped, threw her arms around her headmistress and cried, “Oh, Professor Fawcett! It was awful!”

“What happened?”

“There was – and I – oh, Professor!” Angela began to hysterically cry on Sarah’s shoulder. She tried her best to pry Angela off her without seeming offensive, but Angela was proving harder to shake off than she had imagined.

“What’s going on?” Sarah froze as Dominic Higgs walked towards them. Dominic was in his seventh-year and often found it very amusing to be one of Sarah’s greatest opponents on the student front. He was a Slytherin and, had it not been for his rude behaviour, a shoe-in for Head Boy. Alas, that opposition was taken over and Dominic apparently was now making it his business to monitor her behaviour.

Angela immediately stopped crying and, with a dignified sniff, said, “Nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing; I heard a scream.”

Biting back to comment on how observing he was, Sarah merely looked at him and stated, “It’s all under control. I would highly suggest that you go back to your common room, Higgs.”

Dominic grinned. “I’m sure everything is.”

Sarah made herself seem a little taller and raised her eyebrows. “Higgs, your common room.”

“I can help, you know?”

Angela glared straight at him. It is no wonder that Angela was a Gryffindor. Nobody would usually show any open dislike to Dominic, who generally seemed like a very tricky character.

“I know you can,” said Sarah calmly. “Nevertheless, I think it’s best that you report back to your common room. As a prefect, it is your duty to make sure that tonight runs smoothly.”

“Wouldn’t this fall into that category?”

“Ten points off Slytherin for cheek. I don’t think that just because it’s the first day, I won’t be willing to give out detentions, Higgs.”

Dominic smirked again, which annoyed Sarah immensely - she truly could not think of another student that she could possibly have loathed more than Dominic Higgs – and he coolly said, “I suppose so. I hope you get better, Angela.”

As he began to walk away, Angela muttered, “I wish I could say the same for you.”

“Never mind him,” said Sarah sweetly. “Now what happened?”

Angela breathed in deeply. “I was walking down here – I needed to get away from Demetra Jennings.” Demetra Jennings was Angela’s supposed best friend, who made Angela cry more than any other person managed to do. It really was the perfect example of the saying that it’s your friends who know how to hurt you the most. “Well, anyway, I was walking and muttering about her, when this woman came and held a wand to my throat.” Angela became slightly more teary again and continued, “And kept talking about my sister. But I don’t have a sister!”

“I know you don’t,” replied Sarah.

“Well, she left, didn’t she?”

“What did she look like?”

Pausing for a moment, Angela finally said, “I don’t know, it was too dark. But she scared the hell out of me.”

*~*~**~*~*

“Don’t you want to split up?” suggested James, eager to leave Caprilla and walk on his own for a while.

“Right, and then you ditch me.”

“What does it matter? We don’t need to be a team!”

Raising her eyebrow, Caprilla said, “So you admit that you want to ditch me?”

“You know what, yes, I do. Now that we’ve gotten that sorted –” Looking at Caprilla as he spoke, James didn’t even notice himself smash straight into the woman in front of him.

She was tall, dark, and James had to admit, very attractive. Her eyes set on James and regarded him with a mildly interested expression. “Sorry,” she said dryly.

“No problem,” replied Caprilla, just as unemotional as her.

“You’re a Potter boy, aren’t you?”

Taken aback by the abrupt comment, James answered, “Yes, I am.”

Nodding her head, the woman revealed a lopsided grin. “Impressive. I never thought I’d get a chance to meet a Potter boy. And you are…?”

“Caprilla.”

“Hmm…” The woman didn’t seem the least bit intrigued by Caprilla until her eyes lowered down and her face became a frown. “Heading off to post an owl, I see. Pretty late, don’t you think?”

Caprilla clutched to the letter by her side more tightly, replying, “I was bored.”

“But –”

“Professor Fawcett never mentioned an addition to the staff.”

“Must be a Ravenclaw,” said the woman, sounding both bored and annoyed. When Caprilla glared at her, she then said sweetly, “They’re always so eager to question these things.”

“And you must be a Slytherin,” retorted Caprilla. “They’re always so keen on not answering.”

The woman’s laugh seemed earnest. “I like you. No, I’m not a member of the staff, I was just… popping in?”

“You can’t Apparate.” This time it was James.

“Well, most people can’t Apparate. But I must be going down.” Her eyes lingered on the two for a moment longer. “Have a good year.”

As the woman walked away, Caprilla hissed, “I’ll bet you a Galleon that she was behind that scream.”

James rolled his eyes and continued to walk on, closely followed by Caprilla. “I know she seems a bit odd, but that doesn’t mean that she’s evil.”

“But she’s an adult Slytherin who’s wandering around the corridors for no good reason. In my History books, there’s a correlation with those kinds of people.”

“You’re in the past.”

“You know what they say. ‘History repeats itself’.”

“What?”

Caprilla shook her head. “Never mind.”

They continued to walk on, listening for something to hint to them as to where the trouble was. Eventually, they gave up on the search and stopped in the middle of an abandoned corridor.

“Where are we?” asked James, looking at his surroundings.

“I have no clue,” replied Caprilla, “I was following you.”

“Fantastic,” said James sarcastically.

Walking in a circle, Caprilla tried to figure out their exact location until she heaved a sigh. “So you don’t recognise where we are at all?”

“I just said –”

“All right, all right.” Turning away, Caprilla mumbled, “Just checking.”

“James!”

He could hear Lola shouting for him around the area and rushed towards the voice. Caprilla followed him, but had a scowl of her face that made him shiver every now and again, something that he did not find a very pleasing experience.

Lola’s hair was loosely tied in a pony tail and there were bags already forming under her eyes; she was the kind of girl who needed sleep. When she saw him, she exclaimed, “Thank God. I heard a scream and –”

“You thought the highly feminine scream was me?”

“No,” replied Lola, who was now grinning. “What I thought was that you might have been involved. I’m going to take a wild guess and suppose that you were looking for her just now. That’s why you left so suddenly, wasn’t it?”

“No, it was –” James stopped when he remembered why he actually left so suddenly. The scream echoed again in him mind, sharper than ever, but he shook it off. Instead, he stood up firmly and said, “I just felt a bit ill.”

“That’s why you went to the girls’ bathroom?” inquired Caprilla.

Hating the girl that bit more, James snapped, “I wasn’t aware of what was going on.” He then turned to Lola, explaining, “I felt really ill.”

Lola nodded, but James was firmly under the impression that she didn’t believe a word of it. She began to walk and both of them followed her, while she said, “Anyway, you guys should have come back anyway. If you were ill, James, you could have gone to the Hospital Wing – what do you have there?”

James followed Lola’s eye line to the letter in Caprilla’s hand. Noticing the same thing, Caprilla snatched it away from Lola’s sight. “Never you mind.”

There was something in Lola’s eyes, that James guessed was suspicion, that cancelled out the casual way she waved her hand and said, “Just asking.” The other reason that James thought otherwise was that her eyes were fixed on the letter.

Caprilla might have thought the same thing, as her hand was now protectively covering her pocket as they began to walk away. James felt awkward between the two women as he began to wonder about what the letter was exactly, and why it was affecting the two so much.

The moment Caprilla was out of sight, Lola pursed her lips and James almost asked what that was about, but he then remembered that it was the first time that they were alone together since his dream. He tried to calm himself down by telling himself that it was just a dream, but as he remembered the scream, the face formed with it once more. Lola’s features were contorted with agony as a green light flashed by her face.

“James!”

“Huh?” James was awoken by a trance as he saw Lola looking at him with concern, her eyebrows furrowing together.

Sighing, she stated, “You were just standing there, like you were in some sort of trance just then.”

“I’m fine.”

“Too much drama, that’s what I think.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” breathed out James.

"You know that Angela Hallington is crying already?"

Raising his eyebrows, James replied, "Probably Demetra's doing."

James didn't even notice that for a moment Lola's whole body went rigid as she said, "Too much drama."