The Power of the Quill

Author's Notes:

WARNING, WARNING, WARNING. This chapter contains major Half-Blood Prince spoilers. Please read book six first.

I just want to thank everyone that has patiently waited for me to update this story. I don't plan to give up on any of my WIPs. They're too much fun to write.


This chapter was beta'd by Nakhash Makashefah. She faithfully stood by me as my stories got canon raped by the sixth book. I don't know what I would do without her.


Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter and Co. I own nothing.



The Power of the Quill.


Chapter 23. Family Old And New.


Molly Weasley searched through the racks of used robes at Stiller's Meet Your Needs secondhand robe shop. Pansy sat quietly on a bench nearby. For two weeks the girl had been wearing Ginny's old clothes, half of which used to be Ron's. Luckily, the girl was small for her age. Most of the clothes could be easily made to fit with the use of Molly's wand.

There were very few robes on the store racks that were fit to wear in public; most were worn and faded beyond repair. Molly wished she could have taken Pansy to Madam Malkin's for a new set of robes, but she just couldn't afford it. She knew the girl's self-worth was incredibly low at the moment. Pansy was used to having the finest robes money could buy. Molly knew these secondhand robes would only confirm the girl's worst fears that she was less of a person than she once was. Pansy now believed she was everything her parents had taught her a Muggle-born was: something loathsome and filthy, not even deserving of anyone's pity.

Unfortunately, this was all Molly could afford for now. Arthur was three years overdue for a raise. She knew he would never see one while Cornelius Fudge was still in office. The man had been trying to drive her husband out of the Ministry for years. Arthur's department shrank a little more each year.

She had already accepted some money from both Charlie and Bill to help her with the cost of Ron and Pansy's wedding. Also, Dumbledore had offered to replace Pansy's wand and all of her clothes. Molly had refused. Pansy was going to be a Weasley and Weasleys always took care of their own --even if it did mean secondhand robes.

After going through all of the racks, Molly found two robes in decent condition that might fit Pansy. One was dark burgundy and the other royal blue. Pansy cringed every time Molly would pick up a black or dark green robe. Anything that reminded Pansy of her former school robes made her recoil. Molly knew the child would never return to Hogwarts. It would be up to the family to finish Pansy's education.

"I think these will do nicely, Pansy. Why don't you go try them on?" Molly asked as she laid the robes across Pansy's lap.

Pansy gave the dressing room a nervous look before asking, "Will you come in with me?"

Molly gave her a reassuring smile and said, "These changing rooms are a bit cramped, so the two of us won't fit very well. But I will be right outside the door."

With a very uneasy look on her face, Pansy made her way over to the changing room door. Once inside, she slowly closed the door making sure that Molly was right outside. Molly sighed as she leaned against the door. Pansy was still terrified of being left alone or in the company of men. Molly had to sit with her ever night until she fell asleep. Half the time she would wake to find Pansy had come into her room and slipped into her bed during the night. It seemed impossible that this girl could marry her son in less than two weeks, but Molly knew the Ministry wouldn't give them any choice.

"Mrs. Weasley, fancy seeing you here," Melinda Stiller, the storeowner, said as she approached. Melinda was a very tall, thin woman and had the face of a hyena. Melinda and Molly were in the same year together at Hogwarts, but there was no love lost between the two. Melinda was a Hufflepuff through in through; she believed hard work could cure any problem. She saw all Gryffindors, Slytherins, and Ravenclaws as lazy sots getting by with the least amount of effort.

"Hello, Melinda," Molly said with a phony smile.

"The school term started weeks ago. It's a bit late for school robes, I would think," Melinda accused with a self-satisfied smirk on her face.

"I'm with my son's fiancée. Her robes were destroyed in an accident at school."

"Isn't this something her own mother should be doing?"

Molly didn't want to answer. She knew Melinda was a notorious gossip. She wanted to tell the stick-woman to mind her damn business. "Her mother was unavailable," she lied.

Melinda gave her a probing look and said, "That's right...that new blood law chose one of yours. Whom did your son end up with?"

"Pansy Parkinson," Molly proudly said.

There was a real shocked look on Melinda's face. She placed a hand on Molly's shoulder and said with sincerity, "I'm so sorry, Molly. I know this must be very painful for you. What the Ministry is doing to your family is a crime."

"What do you mean?" Molly asked.

"Forcing your son to marry that spawn of a Muggle whore. I feel so bad for the Parkinsons. Imagine, having that filth living under your roof for sixteen years, thinking she was a normal girl. Now the Ministry is dumping their garbage on you. Someone really should do something about it. Thank God, these marriages aren't permanent," Melinda said with pity in her voice.

Molly was shocked. The woman actually meant every word she'd said. She didn't know if she should feel sorry for Melinda or hex her.

"Try to be brave, Molly. You and your family will get through this," Melinda assured her. She then gave Molly a sympathetic smile and walked away.

Molly couldn't believe what she had just heard. Were people so callous they would make a pariah of an innocent girl because she had had the bad luck to be born to a prostitute? Molly shook her head. This was just another undeserved burden her family would have to bear. Molly realized she hadn't heard any sounds from the changing room in a while.

"Pansy, is everything all right?" Molly asked.

After not hearing a response, Molly entered the small room and closed the door behind her. Pansy was sitting on a small stool with one arm and her head in the burgundy robe. From inside the small room Molly could hear other customers going through the racks outside. She realized that Pansy had heard every word Melinda Stiller had said. She felt herself fill with rage. Melinda had to know that Pansy could hear her through the door. The woman just didn't care. Molly pulled the robe back over Pansy's head. She gathered the girl in her arms and held her.

Despite Melinda Stiller's disgusting behavior, Molly bought the two robes. They needed them and Stiller's was the only place she could afford at the moment. Pansy hadn't said anything since overhearing Melinda. They still had to get her a new wand. Ollivanders was a few shops away. Molly was starting to notice the stares she and Pansy were receiving as they made their way through the crowded streets of Diagon Alley. Apparently, many people had the same opinion as Melinda of her future daughter-in-law.

Halfway to Ollivanders, Pansy suddenly stopped. She was staring at an upscale witches' boutique across the cobblestone street from them. A very well-dressed witch with light blonde hair was exiting the store.

"MOTHER!" Pansy shouted as she ran across the busy street, forcing people out of her way. Before the woman could turn around, Pansy embraced her in a tight hug. Martha Parkinson had a shocked and uncomfortable look on her face. Molly just stood on the opposite side of the street, not sure what to do. She felt a touch of jealousy seeing Pansy embracing her mother with love in her eyes. But she knew Pansy needed her real mother now, more than anything.

"Mum, it's me. I've missed you so much," Pansy said through sobs as she buried her face in her adopted mother's bosom.

"DOUGLAS!" the woman shouted as she tried to free herself from Pansy's grip. Molly suddenly had a sinking feeling in her stomach. This didn't look like it was going to go well.

A large wizard with a thick mustache and salt-and-pepper hair exited the store. When he saw Pansy with her arms around his wife, his face filled with rage. He raised a large black walking stick, sporting a gold eagle head on the tip, above his head.

"GET YOUR FILTHY HANDS OFF HER, MUDBLOOD," he bellowed. With one quick, hard blow, he struck Pansy on the top of her head. She instantly crumpled to the ground.

"PANSY!" Molly screamed as she started running across the crowded street.

Douglas Parkinson grabbed his wife by the arm and headed away from the limp figure he'd left on the sidewalk. He looked back at Molly, giving her a murderous glare. People on the sidewalk were casually stepping over Pansy's body as if it were just some rubbish left behind. As soon as Molly reached Pansy, she took out her wand, pointed it above her and shouted, "Repellipopulus!"

There was a large blue flash. People on the sidewalk and street were thrown back twenty feet in all directions, most landing on their backsides. Molly dropped to her knees beside Pansy. Gently, she lifted the girl's head. Pansy's eyes were opened but unfocused. She blinked a couple of times, trying to clear her head. As soon as Pansy's eyes cleared, tears began to roll down her cheeks.

"It's all right, child. They're gone now," Molly said as she embraced the girl in a comforting hug.

"She doesn't love me," Pansy sobbed. "They never loved me, did they?"

Molly put both her hands on the sides of the stricken girl's head. She looked her right in the eyes and said, "No dear, they didn't. People like that can't love anyone. But you're with me, now. And I promise you my family will love you just as much as we love each other."

"How can you? You're a pure-blood family. You don't deserve to be stuck with me. Everyone is right. I'm nothing but a used up whore, like my mother," Pansy said, as shame and sadness filled her eyes.

Molly took her hands from the girl's head. With her right hand she quickly smacked Pansy hard across the face. The girl's sobbing stopped. She stared at Molly with a shocked look.

"You will never say such a thing again, Pansy," Molly warned. "What happened to you was a brutal crime and tragedy. But it doesn't make you any less a person. You're not the first girl this has happened to, Pansy. I have known others that have gone through this. None of them are whores because of it. You belittle them by calling yourself one. Self-pity is a very dangerous thing, Pansy. You can dig yourself into a hole that you may never climb back out of. Be angry at who did this to you. Not at yourself." Molly stood up. She reached down and offered Pansy her hand. Pansy took it and allowed herself to be pulled to her feet.

"You're going to be a Weasley soon, Pansy," Molly told her. "We Weasleys are made of pretty strong stuff. And we always take care of our own." For the first time since she met her, Molly saw what looked like the start of a smile on the girl's face. Just over Pansy's right eye, a small trickle of blood leaked down from her scalp. A worried look appeared on Molly's face. She bent Pansy's head forward to inspect her scalp. The cut wasn't too bad, but there would be a large lump for a couple of days. "I should call the MLE Patrol[NM1]on that buffoon. What he did was assault," Molly angrily stated as she sealed the wound with her wand.

"Father has always had a temper," Pansy told her.

"He is not your father. Those people were never your parents, Pansy. They're just two conceited snobs that wanted a pet, not a daughter. You're much better off without them," Molly assured her as they started to move down the street towards the Leaky Cauldron.

"Where are we going?" Pansy asked.

"Home. I need to take care of that bump on your head. We'll come back for your new wand later."

Molly walked slowly making sure Pansy was okay. She hated what the Parkinsons had done to Pansy, but she knew it was for the best that Pansy saw them for what they really were. Scum!

............................................................................................................

Screams filled Black Manor early Sunday morning. Harry abruptly awoke with his scar burning worse than ever before. His head was throbbing and his throat was dry and very sore. Harry realized that he was still yelling. He sucked in a large breath to calm himself. He found it hard to think clearly. Too many images were swirling around in his head. He didn't know where he was. The picture of the large white tomb was still very clear in his mind.

Harry realized that four sets of very large eyes were staring at him. He was in the main bedchamber in Black Manor. All of the house-elves were on the bed surrounding him. Olivia held a damp cloth to his forehead while two more elves held his hands.

"Master is okay now. Bad dream is over," the elf holding his right hand said.

A dream? It couldn't have been only a dream. It felt so real. He could still see Snape blasting Dumbledore off the Astronomy Tower with the Killing Curse.

"Do you have some kind of neurological disorder I should know about?" a voice asked from across the room.

Harry removed the damp cloth from his forehead. He fumbled for his glasses on the nightstand. As soon as they were on his face, Narcissa came into focus. She was in her morning robes standing on the far side of the room with a cup of coffee in her hand.

"Where is Draco?" he asked, giving her an accusing look.

"It's Sunday. He's probably at Malfoy Manor with his father, planning how to kill us over breakfast," she said. "Why do you want to know?"

"What's today's date?" Harry asked, looking around the room as if he had never been there before.

"It's the twenty-second," she answered. "You have been having some sort of nightmare for most of the night. You wouldn't wake, and your forehead started to bleed about an hour ago. I think you've ruined my sheets."

"What is the month? The year?" he demanded.

"September, ninety-six," she answered, sounding very bothered.

Harry threw off the sheets covering him and swung his legs over the side of the bed. "I need to see Dumbledore." Harry was about to get up when he realized that he was completely naked. He quickly pulled the sheet back over his exposed groin.

Narcissa smirked and said, "There is nothing there I haven't already seen."

Harry knew that was true, but it still felt as if he hadn't lived this life in over a year's time. One of the elves quickly brought him fresh underwear, a bathrobe, and a pair of slippers.

"I sent word to your school that you were ill and having nightmares. They said someone would come for you," she informed him.

"How long ago was that?" Harry asked as he pulled on his underwear, keeping the sheet on top of him.

"About thirty minutes ago. I think someone is at the front gates already. I would have let them in, but I wanted to see if they could find a way through the Manor's wards. It doesn't look like they're having much luck," Narcissa casually said, then took another sip of her coffee.

Harry threw on the robe and slippers and grabbed his wand. "I can't believe I married you," he angrily stated as he left the room.

"I have a Ministry marriage license if you want proof," Narcissa mockingly called after him.

The sun was shining brightly as Harry stepped outside the Manor. A lone figure awaited him at the wrought iron gates. Professor Lupin was massaging his right hand. His hair looked a little bit frizzed. Remus had a very sad look on his face, as if he had just delivered some very bad news to someone.

"This gate has a bit of a temper," Remus told him.

"Sorry, Professor. The wards here are pretty strong. She doesn't trust anyone."

"Narcissa's paranoia is well deserved, Harry. Like you, she has a habit of collecting enemies."

"Yeah, we're a match made in heaven," Harry said as he opened the gates for Lupin.

"We were told you were having nightmares, Harry. Was it a vision from the Dark Lord?" Lupin asked as he walked up the Manor's drive beside Harry.

"I don't know, Professor. It wasn't like any dream or vision I've had before. It felt so real. I feel as if I've lived an entire extra year in one night's time," Harry tried to explain.

"Was your scar hurting, Harry?"

"Yes. It still hurts a little."

"This may be another of the Dark Lord's tricks," Remus warned.

"Maybe, but it didn't feel that way," Harry said as he rubbed his forehead. "It felt like someone was showing me what could happen. Almost like a warning."

"You need to be careful, Harry. The Dark Lord is a master deceiver," Lupin cautioned.

Pierre appeared as soon as they both crossed the front door's threshold. "May I take your cloak, monsier?" he asked Lupin. Remus handed the doorman his slightly tattered cloak[NM2].

"I don't believe Voldemort had anything to do with the vision, Professor. If what I saw is true, he would never want me, of all people, to know," Harry assured him.

They made their way to the large table in the dining hall. Harry sat at the head of the table; Remus took the seat next to him. Two house-elves appeared with fresh juice and coffee. They both disappeared with a pop after setting the refreshments on the table. Harry hardly noticed them. The way Narcissa treated her elves was rubbing off on him. He almost never thanked them anymore. Living part-time in the Manor was affecting him. Harry knew he would have to work even harder at not becoming a snob.

"The problem is, Harry, you don't know what is true and what isn't."

With a worried look, Harry said, "I know it can't all come true. The dream started right after the battle in the Ministry last summer. There was nothing about my marriage or the new law in this vision. You didn't even become our D.A.D.A Professor. But I still feel that part of the vision'll come true."

"I didn't get the job?" Remus asked with a raised brow. "Who did?"

"Snape," Harry coldly answered. His blood still boiled with rage every time he thought of the man.

"The Headmaster was considering Professor Snape for the job this year if I hadn't accepted," Lupin said as he rubbed his hand on his chin. "If Severus took my position, who replaced him?"

"Horace Slughorn."

"Slughorn?" Remus said with surprise. "I didn't realize that my old Potions Professor was still alive. He may not be."

Harry reached for the orange juice and said, "So it's true. Slughorn's real and he was head of Slytherin when you and my parents went to Hogwarts?"

"Yes, it is true. But that doesn't mean anything, Harry. Someone might have mentioned Slughorn to you in passing. I think your subconscious might have been filling in the blanks. It used everything you know and might have forgotten to make sense of this dream or vision," Remus skeptically said.

Harry looked right at Remus; he was pretty sure he had never heard of Slughorn before the vision. When his green eyes met Remus' he asked, "Professor, have you ever heard of the Half-Blood Prince?"

There was truly a look of shock on Remus' face. Harry knew right away the name meant something to him.

"I'm right, aren't I? You've heard it before," Harry said with a self-satisfied smile on his face. "It's Professor Snape, isn't it?"

"No, Harry. Severus isn't the Half-Blood Price. You are," Remus answered.

Now it was Harry's turn to look shocked. If there was one part of the vision he was sure about, it was that.

"That not possible, Professor. Snape is the Half-Blood Prince. His father was a Muggle and his mother was a witch named Eileen Prince," Harry said with desperation in his voice.

Remus placed his hand on Harry shoulder. With an elegant smile, he said, "No, Harry. Severus comes from a very old pure-blood family. His mother was a witch from Russia named Natasha Levotov. Her great-grandfather was supposed to have been the great Russian wizard Rasputin. I knew Eileen Prince. She wasn't Severus' mother, Harry. She was James' mother. She is your grandmother, Harry."

"I'm the Half-Blood Prince," Harry said, but still couldn't believe it.

"Yes, Harry. That is what your grandmother always called you. Of course, Lily wasn't too thrilled with it."

Harry placed both of his hands on his forehead. He felt a terrible headache starting.

"Harry, this could have all been just a very vivid dream. You were only a baby, but the memory of your grandparents remains in your mind. I'm sure you've heard your grandmother's name before. Your brain was just trying to make sense of some long forgotten memories," Remus assured him.

Harry took his hands away from his face and said, "I guess you could be right, Professor. It might've just been a dream. But can I ask you a personal question, to be sure?"

"Of course, Harry," Remus said with a smile.

"Did you tell Tonks that you couldn't see her anymore because you're a werewolf?"

Remus' amber eyes grew twice their normal size. His mouth fell open slightly. "Impossible," Remus said in a whisper as he stared at Harry. "How could you know?"

"It was in my dream. You also said that you thought you're too old for her. Is it true, Professor?"

"Yes, Harry. It is very true. I told Tonks that very thing not an hour ago," Remus answered. The man was visibly shaken.

"She doesn't care that you're a werewolf, Professor. If you break up with Tonks, it'll really hurt her," Harry told him.

"She deserves someone better, Harry. I could never be a real husband to her. I know that I'm only half a man. I have accepted it. She doesn't need the burden of my illness."

"She loves you, Professor. It'll destroy her if you do this. Tonks won't get over you. I've seen it in my dream," Harry said, trying to convince him.

"We still don't know what part of your vision is fact, Harry," Remus stated.

Harry just smiled. He knew Remus believed the dream was real. Why else would he start calling it a vision again?

"Harry, we need to discuss this with Dumbledore right away," Remus suggested. "Do you have your Portkey with you?"

"No, but I think I can Apparate," Harry told him.

"You know how to Apparate?" Remus asked hesitantly.

"Er... yeah. I learned how in my vision," he explained.

"Maybe we shouldn't test that until later, Harry," Remus cautioned. "We don't want you to splinch yourself."

"Maybe he should get properly dressed before leaving," Narcissa stated as she strolled into the room. "He's a member of the Black family now. Appearances mean everything these days. Being seen with a werewolf is bad enough."

"Ah, Narcissa. You're looking lovely and cold as ever," Remus said as he stood and gave her a mock bow.

Narcissa stood at the far end of the table. She gave Remus a smug look and said, "Lupin, you're looking quite well. I'm glad to see you finally got that flea problem under control."

Remus kept his smile. Harry knew he would never let Narcissa know the insult had hurt him in he least bit.

"Thank you for your concern, Narcissa. I'm glad to see the years have treated you fairly well. You're months away from needing those high-priced regeneration potions all the middle-aged witches are using."

Harry watched Narcissa. Like Remus, she held her cool and just politely smiled.

"I did hear correctly, Remus? My very intrepid niece has had her eye on you? Well, there is no accounting for taste, is there? She gets that from her mother. She's most likely under the impression that werewolves are animals in the sack. Unfortunately, nothing could be further from the truth," she said with a cruel smirk. "Still, it is brave of you not to saddle that poor child with your cursed existence. Not when there are so many real men out there for her to choose from. Men with a future," she said, then took a sip of her coffee.

Remus was no longer smiling. What she'd said about Tonks really wounded him. He was used to insults about his condition. But what Narcissa had said about his relationship with Tonks was more than Harry thought Remus could endure.

"I had forgotten you had such intimate knowledge about werewolves, Narcissa. How is Fenrir Greyback? Do you two still stay in touch?"

The crashing sound of breaking glass filled the large room. Narcissa had let her coffee cup slip from her fingers to the floor. All color had drained out of her face. Her body was visibly trembling.

"You...you... you must excuse me. I'm late for an important appointment. Harry, I will leave it to you to show your guest out," Narcissa said, trying to regain her composure. She folded her arms over her chest and quickly fled the room.

Harry gave Remus a puzzled look and asked, "What was that about?" It was the first time he had seen Narcissa back out of a verbal confrontation. Remus looked equally surprised.

"I believe that is what's called, putting one's foot in one's mouth," Remus said with regret.

"I don't understand, Professor."

"It was a just a rumor, Harry. I didn't know it was true. It was thoughtless of me to mention it to her," Remus apologetically said.

"What rumor?" Harry curiously asked. "Does it have something to do with Greyback, the werewolf that bit you?"

Remus just stared at him.

"What?" Harry said.

"Harry, I've never told anyone the identity of the werewolf who cursed me. Not even James and Sirius. How can you possibly know?" Remus asked.

"My vision, Professor. Greyback was one of Voldemort's Death Eaters. He was attacking children of the people who defied the Dark Lord. He even attacked Bill Weasley right inside Hogwarts," Harry answered.

"We need to see Dumbledore right away," Remus said with a worried expression. "If Fenrir Greyback has rejoined the Dark Lord, the Order must be warned."

"What about the rumor? Did Narcissa have an affair with Greyback?" Harry asked.

"No, Harry. Fenrir worked closely with Lucius, doing deeds that even Lucius found repellent. He disposed of a lot of Lucius' personal enemies. It was rumored that Lucius once let Greyback have his wife for a night as payment. Greyback had apparently been lusting after Narcissa for some time. He waited until Lucius really owed him before he demanded her. From Narcissa's reaction, we must conclude that the rumors were true," Remus explained.

"From the look on her face, I don't think she was that willing," Harry suggested.

"Fenrir Greyback would never want her if she were willing, Harry. He only takes women. Most don't survive," Remus said with a sympathetic look. "She must have thought no one knew."

"How did you know, Professor?"

"I know many werewolves, Harry. Greyback is a braggart. He has told the story many times. I didn't really believe it was true. Lucius has always been a very jealous man. Whatever Fenrir did for him, it had to be big," Remus answered. "Go get dressed, Harry. We must get to Hogwarts right away."

As Harry ran up the stairs to his bedchamber, he thought about what Remus had told him. He had a feeling Narcissa wouldn't be inviting Remus back anytime soon. If she was a victim of Fenrir Greyback's carnal lust, he needed to know. Harry knew bringing up the subject with Narcissa might get himself hexed with an Unforgivable Curse. Harry also had a bigger problem to deal with. He might secretly be in love with Ginny Weasley.

............................................................................................................

For over five straight hours Harry told Dumbledore as much as he could about the Half-Blood Prince vision. He tried to remember every last detail. Especially when it came to Snape and the Horcruxes.

"Sir, do you believe me? This can't be just a dream," Harry asked. "It has to be a vision of some kind."

"I think it is both, Harry," Dumbledore said, looking at Harry over his half-moon glasses.

Ever since Harry lost Sirius in the battle at the Ministry, his relationship with the Headmaster has been a bit shaky. But after seeing Dumbledore's death in the vision, Harry knew his feelings were as strong as ever for the old wizard.

"How can it be both?" Harry asked.

"I'm not sure, Harry," Dumbledore honestly answered. "But we know some of what you have seen isn't true. Professor Slughorn returning to Hogwarts, for example. But your description of my encounter with young Tom Riddle at the orphanage was accurate. Down to every word said. The memory of my meeting with Riddle when he asked to teach here was just as precise. And the Order has suspected that Scrimgeour is the real force behind Cornelius Fudge. No, Harry, this is much more than a simple dream."

Harry could tell that what he'd told the Headmaster really worried him. If the Horcruxes did exist, it made Voldemort even more dangerous.

"What about, Snape, Professor. In my vision he betrays you. We have to do something about him. He can't be trusted. We need to warn Hermione."

Dumbledore just chuckled. "My dear boy, if Severus was going to betray me, he would have done so a long time ago. The person in your vision wasn't Severus Snape, Harry. I'm not even sure if he did betray me," Dumbledore suggested.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked in frustration. "Of course it was Snape. He killed you and ran away with Draco." He couldn't believe the Headmaster still trusted Snape. Harry wondered if Dumbledore was becoming a bit barmy.

"Harry, some unknown person or force placed a lot of information into your mind while you slept. It's quite apparent to me that you tried to make sense of this new information by placing it all in a very real dream. The Severus Snape you dreamed about wasn't real. But who he represented was."

"Who did he represent?" Harry asked, knowing he wasn't going to like the answer.

Dumbledore just smiled and said, "You, Harry."

"ME?" Harry said in a raised voice. Harry was right; he didn't like the answer.

"Yes, Harry. You fear that someone close to you will die because of your fight against the Dark Lord. Subconsciously, you feel that you are betraying them. You saw Severus as your darker half. You're afraid that you might be faced with the same choice he had to make," Dumbledore explained.

"I would never do what he did," Harry stated firmly.

"The truth is, Harry, none of us know until we're faced with it. With any luck, you'll never have to find out."

"My luck doesn't seem to run that way," Harry glumly said. "Professor, how are we to know what in my vision is and isn't real?"

"It won't be easy, Harry. I would like you to come to my office twice a week. We'll put what you've experienced into my Pensieve and have a look at it. We'll start with what you learned about these Horcruxes. I also plan to send members of the Order to this cave. If there is a part of the Dark Lord's soul there, we need to find it."

"Professor, in my vision someone had already stolen Slytherin's necklace."

"Nevertheless, Harry, we need to be sure. In the meantime, I will have this tested," Dumbledore said as he removed a ring from his desk drawer.

Harry felt a shiver run down his spine as he looked upon Slytherin's signet ring.

"Be careful, Professor," he warned. "You lost the use of your hand because of that thing."

Dumbledore held up the ring and studied it with his eyes. "Don't worry yourself, my boy. I have no intention of destroying this ring anytime soon."

"If it's a Horcrux, you must destroy it, Professor," Harry insisted.

"Harry, we know that not everything in your vision is true. If this is a piece of Voldemort's soul, he might be able to feel when we destroy it. I believe it will be safer to destroy the Horcruxes once all are in our hands. The Dark Lord must never know we seek these artifacts, until it is too late."

Dumbledore placed the ring back in his desk drawer. He stood up and came around his desk to Harry. "Harry, I need you to promise me something?" he asked in a very serious tone of voice. "Harry, we don't know if these Horcruxes really exist. For all we know, Voldemort might have put this all in your head to confuse you. Until we know for sure, you must keep what was in your vision to yourself. No one must know, not even your closest friends, Harry. It would only endanger them needlessly."

"I promise, Professor. I won't tell anyone," Harry vowed.

"Very good, Harry. I think you should get some rest now, my boy. That vision didn't allow you much sleep. You might make a visit to the hospital wing and ask Madam Pomfrey for a dreamless sleep draught," Dumbledore advised.

"I think I'll do that, Professor," Harry said as he got up to leave. He had a lot of thinking to do. His mind was still swimming with images from his vision. Before leaving, Harry turned and asked, "Professor, you said that Snape was really me in the vision. If that's true, who was Draco supposed to be? I know the real Draco would've killed you on the spot."

"We can only make a guess, Harry," Dumbledore answered.

"A guess is better than nothing. Nothing is what I'm coming up with," Harry frustratingly said.

"You're going to be a father soon, Harry. The Draco in your dream might represent your unborn child," Dumbledore suggested.

"But I'm having a girl."

"I don't believe the sex of your child matters, Harry. Only that, one day, they might have to make the same choices your Draco had to make. Of course, I'm only guessing," Dumbledore cautioned.


"I don't think I like the idea of my daughter growing up in a world with Voldemort in it," Harry said with a cheerless look on his face.

"Then it will be up to us to make sure she does not," Dumbledore said with a smile. "Now go get some rest, Harry. I need to contact my old friend Horace. See if he did, in fact, tell Tom Riddle about Horcruxes."

"When you see Slughorn, Professor, please don't mention me to him," Harry asked.

"Do not worry, my boy. I will be asking the questions, not answering any," Dumbledore assured him.

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Just south of the small village of Ottery St Catchpole, Draco and three other cloaked figures landed their brooms in a field just west of the Burrow. They were all supposed to be at Malfoy Manor for the evening, celebrating his father's return from Azkaban. If anyone asked, they had an airtight alibi. It was nearly eleven o'clock. Draco knew he had to be back by one in the morning at the latest.

He'd only had a week to plan this raid. Besides Crabbe and Goyle, Millicent Bulstrode was the only other person he'd had time to recruit. Draco was actually surprised at how eager Millicent was to take part in getting rid of Parkinson. They had shared a dorm for five years, but Millicent seemed to have a real resentment towards Pansy. Draco wasn't about to question it. He needed all the help he could get.

"Listen up. Leave your brooms here. We'll walk the rest of the way," Draco ordered. "You each have a bottle of dragon's blood with you. We'll need to pour it on the ground all the way around the house. There can be no gaps or someone could escape."

"How will dragon's blood stop someone from escaping?" Millicent asked with a skeptical look on her face.

"It stops anyone from Apparating or using a Portkey, stupid. Didn't you pay attention in Defense Against the Dark Arts?" Draco asked, giving her a snobbish, superior look.

A fire appeared in Millicent's eyes. She quickly moved forward towards Draco. When she was standing only inches away, Draco realized for the first time that Millicent was nearly as big as Crabbe and Goyle. As quick as a snake, Millicent grabbed him by the throat with one hand. Draco could feel the air to his lungs being cut off. She was just as strong as Crabbe and Goyle, too.

"What did you call me?" she demanded through clenched teeth.

"Nothing," Draco was able to choke out.

"That prissy little bitch used to call me stupid," Millicent angrily said. "I only put up with her because my father works for the Parkinsons. I don't have to, anymore. Not from her or from you, pretty-boy."

As soon as Millicent released him, Draco dropped to his knees and gasped for air. He was having a bad month. This was the second time a witch had assaulted him. He would make sure both Millicent and Granger paid for touching him. But right now he needed Millicent. He had no idea how many of the Weasleys were at home. His plan needed a least four attackers, one to guard each side of the house. Draco gave Crabbe and Goyle a furious look. He couldn't believe they'd let that hag manhandle him that way.

Draco got to his feet and said, "Come on, you lot. We have to hurry."

"What a dump," Goyle said as they reached the Burrow's garden. "It looks like a stiff wind could blow that pile of shit down."

"Quiet, Goyle. We don't want to wake anyone," Draco warned. "We want them all asleep when we start our attack."

"I want Pansy," Millicent coldly said. "I want to personally beat that Mudblood's pretty face in. I want her to know it was me."

"Bulstrode, you do understand that we're not here to beat anyone up? We're here to finish off everyone in this house. Kill them all," Draco firmly stated.

"Kill everyone? Isn't that going a bit far, Draco?" Goyle nervously asked.

"It has to be done, unless you want to spend the rest of your life in Azkaban," Draco angrily answered.

"But you said she'd never tell, Draco," Crabbe timidly mentioned.

"Leave it to Weasley to actually want that filthy Mudblood whore," Draco said with disgust. "He might convince her to talk one day. We can't take that chance."

"I don't care if that Mudblood talks or not. I want to see her die a painful death for all the crap my father made me put up with," Millicent said with a cruel gleam in her eyes. The sight gave even Draco a chill.

"This is the plan. We each take one side of the house. Pour your dragon's blood on the ground to your left, a fourth of the way around or until we made a complete circle around the house. There can be no gaps or they'll escape. Once that's done, I'll destroy the fireplace from the outside so they can't Floo away. As soon as you hear me do that, start throwing fire hexes into every window and doorway. This dung heap will go up in a flash. Hex anyone trying to escape. We can't let even one live to tell what happened. When we're done, I'll put the Dark Mark over the ruins. Let everyone think the Weasleys were the targets. Not Pansy."

"I hope Pansy runs out towards me," Millicent evilly said. "I'll Stun her, then throw Pansy's ass right back in the fire. I can't wait to hear that bitch scream. I want to see her flesh cook on her bones."

Draco, Crabbe and Goyle gave her a cautious look.

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Molly had only been asleep for an hour when a strange noise woke her. She looked at the clock on her nightstand. It was eleven o'clock, too soon for Arthur and Bill to have returned from their meeting with the Order. The twins were spending the night in their store again. She and Pansy were the only ones home. Molly guessed that Pansy was having another nightmare. She had some dreamless sleep draught in the kitchen. Molly got out of bed and headed downstairs. When she was only halfway down the stairs, an enormous explosion on the ground floor rocked the entire house. The air was filled with dust and debris.

Molly placed her hand over her mouth to keep from breathing in too much dust. Just as the dust began to clear, a huge fireball crashed though the living-room window. Another one filled the kitchen. The sound of breaking glass and flames filled the house. The dust in the air seemed to ignite.

Molly scrambled back up the stairs as a wave of scorching heat followed her. She burst through Pansy's bedroom door. The girl was already out of bed. Molly knew they were under attack. She would have to Apparate them both out of the house. She wrapped her right arm tightly around Pansy's waist.

"Hold on to me as hard as you can, Pansy. We're going to side-along Apparate out of here," Molly told her as thick black smoke filled the room.

Molly concentrated for all she was worth but nothing happened. They both started to cough and choke as more smoke filled the room.

"What's wrong?" Pansy asked though her coughs.

"I don't know. I'm being blocked somehow," Molly answered.

There was a loud crash and another fireball broke through the bedroom window. Pansy screamed as the bed and wall next to her caught fire. Molly's eyes were stinging from the smoke. She knew the smoke would overtake them both in less than a minute. They had to get out of the house now. She grabbed Pansy by the wrist and pulled her from the room. There was only one way to go: up.

Molly and Pansy coughed violently as they made their way up the stairs through the thick smoke to the attic. The ghoul was screaming its head off.

"Get out of here, you bloody twit!" Molly screamed at the creature. The ghoul let out one loud cry and disappeared through the wall.

"We're trapped. What do we do now?" Pansy asked with desperation in her voice.

"Charlie left an old Cleansweep up here that doesn't work too well. Help me find it," Molly told her.

They both got on their hands and knees and started looking for the broom. Molly's hands were blistering from the heat rising up through the floorboards. Smoke filled the room about their heads. It was becoming almost impossible to see.

"I FOUND IT!" Pansy shouted.

"Go to the window," Molly told her.

The floor creaked and cracked with every step Molly took. She knew they only had seconds before the whole house caved in upon itself. Just before reaching Pansy and the window, Molly's left leg broke through the floorboards up to her knee. She screamed as flames burned her flesh. Molly pulled on her leg but couldn't free herself.

"GO, PANSY! Before it's too late," Molly screamed.

Pansy dropped the broom by the window. She rushed over to Molly.

"No, Pansy. Save yourself. It's too late for me," Molly pleaded.

"I'm not leaving you," Pansy forcefully said as she took hold of Molly's right arm. "You're all I've got left. Please don't leave me."

With their combined strength, Molly was able to pull her leg free. The skin was raw, blackened and burned in part. She couldn't stand on it. The pain almost made her pass out.

She leaned on Pansy as they made their way to the window. A large part of the floor collapsed behind them. Huge flames filled the room. Pansy took the broom's handle and smashed the window. Flames were roaring on the outside of the house, as well. Pansy helped Molly onto the broom then climbed on behind her. They both kicked off together. The old broom wobbled badly under their combined weight. Leaning forwards, they flew through the broken window. The attic exploded behind them. A huge fireball surrounded the two witches. Just as Molly thought they would burn to death, they broke into the clear night air. The ends of Molly's nightdress were still on fire. The broom started to buck wildly as its few remaining straw bristles burned. They started to rise quickly. Then the broom dove straight toward the ground.

"Pull, Pansy. Pull as hard as you can," Molly ordered.

Together they both pulled back on the old broom's handle. Slowly, the broom started to level out, but not quickly enough. Molly knew they were going to crash.

"Brace yourself, Pansy," she shouted.

With a sickening crack, they crashed into the small hill just east of the Burrow. Molly lay stunned, flat on her back, with the broken broom between her legs. Pansy lay moaning next to her. Gathering as much strength as she could, Molly leaned over to check on Pansy.

"Ouch," Pansy cried as Molly touched her right arm. "I think it's broken," Pansy said through tears.

"Is anything else broken?" Molly asked.

"No, I don't think so," Pansy answered as she sat up.

A gigantic BOOM rocked the night. Molly could see the smoke and fire reaching hundreds of feet into the air from the other side of the small hill. She crawled to the top. The sight before Molly's eyes tore her heart apart. Her beloved home was engulfed in flames. Half of it had already collapsed on itself. Above it was the ghostly green image of the Dark Mark. All of her children's photos were now gone. Everything they owned was being destroyed. So many memories lost.

Molly could make out four cloaked figures in front of what was left of her home. They were yelling and dancing in a circle. Thankfully, the flames and smoke had covered Molly and Pansy's escape. The attackers probably believed no one had survived.

"It' s Draco," Pansy said in an emotionless voice.

Molly looked to her right to see Pansy standing there cradling her arm.

"Get down before they see you, child," Molly whispered.

"YOU SHOULD HAVE KILLED ME!" Pansy screamed with fury. "YOU HEAR ME, YOU BASTARD? YOU SHOULD HAVE KILLED ME!"

Forgetting about the pain in her leg, Molly reached up and forcefully pulled Pansy down next to her. The girl cried out as her right elbow hit the ground. Molly placed a hand over Pansy's mouth to silence her. She was thankful the roar of the fire had covered Pansy's outburst.

"Please, Pansy. We're not safe yet," Molly pleaded. Pansy remained quiet as Molly removed her hand. "We're both still alive. That's all that matters now."

Out of the corner of her eye, Molly saw the four cloaked figures speed away into the night sky on brooms. She pulled Pansy into a warm hug. She knew she had saved the most valuable thing in her house: the brave girl in her arms. Together they lay on the hill in each other's embrace and wept for their lost home.

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Next chapter coming soon.

Please let me know what you think.


Here a question for my reviewers. What parts of the Half-Blood Prince should I use in this story? I've opened it up so that I can use most of the sixth book if I want. But what parts should be trashed?


[NM1]Aurors go after Dark wizards, not regular criminal activity
[NM2]Went with two lines of thought here. One, they're wizards - blah, blah, blah. Second, it's customary to keep one's jacket on. If he had on an overcoat of some sort, someone would offer to put it away for him.