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POV of Kent Weasley

“Rosie!” I yelled, waving at her and patting the seat next to me. “Over here!”

My cousin Rose grinned at me and tossed her frizzy red-brown hair. “Hey, Kent.”

“Did you see the new orders we’ve had from the kids? Twenty-five different candy boxes, and over thirty orders for my new product!”

Rose rolled her light blue eyes. “Y’know, Kent, Uncle Percy would kill you if he found out you were one of the Weasleys Wizarding Wheezes black market heads.”

I sighed dramatically, but more than a little of it was real. I had a tough time of it, and so did my dad. He was possibly the most uptight guy to have ever walked the planet. Though I did love him, I’d wished more than once he’d loosen up a bit.

“Dad,” I muttered miserably. Rose looked like she was about to nod in agreement, then caught herself.

“Where’s Al?” she asked, noticing the absence of my once-favorite cousin at school – and one of my only male cousins. Only recently, he’d been getting all weird. Like, really weird, since last year. He’d always been a bit moody and brooding, but lately he’d been mysteriously gone just about all the time. And after that – occurrence - last year, we’d been about as far as could be. I frowned.

“Probably still sulking over the new girl, Rosie,” I said lightly. “Don’t snap my head off, now, but I honestly don’t see what he sees in her. Pretty darn average lookin’ if I may say so myself.”

Rose glared at me reproachfully. “Don’t be so sexist, Kent. She’s a brilliant student and an amazing duelist.”

“Discussing the new girl, aren’t we?” came a new voice, and we all turned to look at Scorpius Malfoy, most infamous womanizer (apart from me and Al and James before he graduated, that is) in the history of Hogwarts. “I don’t think she’s bad, not really. Hard to tell with those floppy robes she always has on – “ He shut up under Rose’s look, which strongly resembled Aunt Hermione’s.

“Looks, looks, and looks!” snapped Rose, throwing her arms up in exasperation. “You guys are so shallow.” Whipping one last cutting glance at us, she got up to join her best friend, Casey Gillard.

“What did I say?” asked Scorpius with a look of comical puzzlement on his face. I snorted. Was I the only one who could tell she fancied him?

“I think you made her jealous, Scorp,” I said, elbowing him. He stared at me in bemusement.


I did my best not to allow my eyeballs to twitch, but boy, it was hard. “She. Likes. You.”

Scorpius shook his head confusedly. “No f-ing way. She can barely stand the sight of me, Kenny!”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Sorry, Kent,” he said, irritation making it play that he wasn’t sorry at all. “And how did we get to Rose and I from the subject of the Leilani girl again?”

“You remembered her name?” I asked in surprise. She was so average it was painful. Mind you, I was in Hufflepuff, not Gryffindor. Therefore, I didn’t spend much time with my cousins apart from free blocks, like today. We had an unofficial meeting here on the front steps in the open hallway, the Potter-Weasleys, plus the sole Malfoy, every single week.

Only today, Dominique was busy snogging Sterling, Rose was too mad to talk, Freddie was on Prefect duty, Molly was off in the sorority, Hugo was probably in some broom cupboard with Anna Lee, Natasha (Uncle Charlie’s kid with some Russian chick; they live so far away that his wife never comes to visit) was busy in the Gobstones Club, Lily was off lusting after some guy, of which I did not want to know the details, and Albus was off somewhere that I didn’t know, which is what usually happens with him. That left Scorp and I to carry on the mantle of the Potter-Weasley-and-one-Malfoy meeting. And the task of thinking in giant, long, run-on sentences.

“Yeah,” said Scorpius. “She’s got my best mate in pieces. It’s hard to forget her.”

I dropped my pack of Extendable Ears that I had been about to ship in surprise, then bent down and snatched it off the ground, praying no teachers were around.


“I know. It’s weird. I think Al knows her from somewhere, but he’s clammed up about it and won’t say a word,” Scorpius said, a little too casually.

“Would never have taken her as a girl Al would fall head over heels for,” I said, trying to remember what she looked like. I came up with thin, delicate features, long black hair, and baggy clothing. Not much to work with, and nothing particularly striking in there.

Scorpius snorted. “Would never have thought Al would have fallen head over heels for any girl,” he snickered. I laughed, ending up with a snotball in my hand.

“Hey, Kent,” said Kristin Crawford, Captain of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team. She was walking up to me, her glossy brown hair falling to her side and her hips swaying. I grinned. Now that girl was h-o-t hot. I wiped the snot on my already stained robes.

“Hey, Kris,” I said, ignoring Scorpius’s amused chuckle behind me. “Wanna go play some Quidditch?”

“Sure,” she said, offering me a hand, and I took hers with my clean one.


Alyssa’s POV

I filed into the D.A.D.A. room along with the rest of my classmates, and groaned. I would have loved this class had it not been for the fact I had to sit with Albus Potter, mainly because Professor Weasley had made it quite clear that the seats we were sitting in for our first day would be our seats for the rest of the year. Sighing, I stopped to redo my loose ponytail, stalling for time before I had to see Albus again. A tingling feeling, which I dismissed as anticipation – negative, of course – filled the pit of my stomach.

“Shortz,” Potter greeted me as I sat down, a smirk on his handsome face. Yeah, he was hot, but looks weren’t everything.

“Giant,” I retorted. He laughed and I hated him for it.

“Ready to do some serious work today?” he asked me, raising an eyebrow. I rolled my eyes.

“Sure,” I replied nonchalantly, trying to ignore his proximity.

“Class, turn to page 168 of your textbooks, please,” called Professor Weasley, interrupting our little exchange. Thank God. I fumbled for my book, hands groping for the thick volume. As my hands closed around it, my fingers slipped, and the book tumbled to the ground. A crashing noise sent the eyes of the entire class at me.

“Whoops,” I said, face red. To my surprise, it was Potter who reached down and handed me my book. I stared at him in goggle-eyed shock for a second, then shook my head. Manners, Lizzy.


“No problem,” he said softly, his expression as unfathomable as always, and I frowned. He wasn’t acting like a jerk for once? Before I had a chance to ask him what he was playing at, Professor Weasley spoke again.

“Does anyone know what significance the charm Expelliarmus has?”

My hand shot up almost of its own volition. Professor Weasley smiled at me.

“Yes, Miss Leilani?”

“Well,” I said, talking fast, “the charm Expelliarmus is more commonly known as the Disarming Charm. It’s most famous for being the charm Harry Potter used to defeat Lord Voldemort in the Battle of Hogwarts on April 2nd, 1998. However, it also has a number of other illustrious uses, such as by Justin the Judicious in his takeover of the Wizarding State Garnacia. It was a common spell used by Conrad the Conqueror, who defeated the Goblins in their third revolution in 1321. Finally, it is a signature spell of the mysterious Order of the Phoenix, who, after being decimated before emerging triumphant in 1998, became an important branch of the Department of Mysteries.”

Professor Weasley nodded at me approvingly while the rest of the class gave me dirty looks. I shrugged; I couldn’t help knowing all the answers. Rose Weasley looked a bit disgruntled.

“Very good. Ten points to Ravenclaw!” Professor Weasley then slipped his wand out of his plain black robes. He smiled at us secretively.

“I’m assuming my sixth years know how to Disarm already, so I’m going to be putting a spin on this spell,” he said. “One of my very close friends invented it, and I’ve found it extremely useful. Harry’s a genius when it comes to this stuff.”

My jaw dropped along with everyone else in the class, save the Potter-Weasleys. Rose looked vaguely interested, while Potter actually looked...bored.

Lemme explain. Harry Potter is the most famous, most wealthy, and probably most influential as well as powerful, magic wise, wizard in the world. When he was eighteen, he defeated the evilest dark wizard of all time, Lord Voldemort. He’s currently the head of the Auror Department and the Department of Mysteries, and he knows, well, everything, which I’m pretty sure is a new record. So if we learn a spell he invents, it’s a big deal, since they don’t make many of those spells public.

“In this spell,” continued Weasley, ignoring the fact that our teeth were only a centimeter from the ground, “a very precise wand movement is required. Like this.” He swished upwards and flicked sharply. “Some of you may remember that it resembles a Hovering Charm from your first year. Go on, class, try it.”

I took out my old, battered wand. I didn’t know exactly what was in it; all I knew was that it was made of darker wood than any of my classmates and a family heirloom. Closing my eyes, I swished and flicked, the image of Professor Weasley’s movement slowly morphing into my own.

“If any of you were wondering what the spell is for, then I’ll answer your question now. It’s to slow down spells to give you a chance to duck. It’s much faster to cast than a Shield Charm, Miss Weasley,” he directed at his daughter, who had her hand almost touching the ceiling. She blushed to the roots of her hair, making the father – daughter resemblance even more apparent.

“With me: mahetardus!”

“Mahetardus!” we repeated. As I voiced the words, a tingle shivered down my spine and my finger started to glow a bright blue along with my wand. Hastily, I stuffed it under my desk and hid my index finger, which strongly resembled the top of a Christmas tree, with my other hand. I could feel something buzzing and humming underneath the surface of my skin. Most disconcertingly, however, was the fact that Professor Weasley’s eyes were focused The light vanished.

“Let’s try it. I’m going to aim an Impediment Jinx at Miss Leilani, here, and she’s going to try to stop it.” I gulped.

“Are – are you sure, professor?” I stuttered. I didn’t want to end up Petrified!

“I’m sure,” said Professor Weasley, amusement written all over his expression. Behind me, I heard Sabrina Taylor’s snotty voice whisper, “I bet she doesn’t know what she’s doing. She’s going to need Mandrake Root!”

I blushed crimson, anger turning my vision red. Getting up, I strode to the front of the room and held out my wand. You can do this, I reminded myself.

“Impedimenta!” The red line of light exploded with no warning, and it started arcing towards me. I gritted my teeth and concentrated. If I failed, I would never be able to live this down. My body was tingling and humming again with a strange energy.

“Mahetardus!” I yelled, and my own electric blue shot collided with Professor Weasley’s. A purple knot gathered between the two spells.

At that moment, I couldn’t care less, as I was swamped by a tidal wave of déjà vu.

Professor Weasley’s face was changing, changing into a man with messy brown hair and pale grey eyes. His cruel mouth turned up in a distorted grin as he poured green light at the teal sphere that was radiating. My hand shook, but somehow, I sent my energy towards him to combat his. The part of me that was thinking now had been locked into a cage, and all I could do was scream and rail and fear for my life.

It was just like the nightmare.


Sweat poured from my matted hair, dripping into my vision as I pushed, pushed everything I did to stop that light that I understood was the Avada Kedavra from my numerous readings. The man laughed hollowly, jeering.

“You can’t stop me, Alyssa,” he whispered, and I was drawn in like a bug to a net. The brick walls of the alley we were in shook, and mortar crumbled. Fear was blossoming in me, and I heard an inhuman sound while something tore away at my chest and tried to eat out my heart.

“Mahetardus!” I screamed, putting in the last of my magical energy, and the green spell dissolved into nothing, vaporized by the blue. The man stopped mid-word, frozen into position. I slumped back against the brick and felt the familiar feeling of darts pricking my body, my response when I had nothing left. I collapsed inward like a folding chair and sprawled across the floor, unmoving –


Cold water splashed onto my face. I blearily opened my eyes and looked into Albus Potter’s eyes and his wand tip. A shadow of what I thought was concern rimmed their green depths, green like the spell that had almost killed me. I shot up straight.

“Get away from me,” I croaked while I backed away, heart racing. He frowned.

“Lizzi.” I barely registered his use of my actual name. “What’s wrong?”

I took a step backwards into the desk behind me, breathing in a deep, shuddering whiff of air. Reality swamped my brain again, and I sighed, feeling normal again.

“Sorry,” I muttered. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not fine,” he countered. “You just fainted in the middle of D.A.D.A., for heaven’s sake!”

I noticed that the classroom was empty. “How – how long was I out?”

“’Bout two minutes,” he said grimly. “Not long, but long enough for the news to travel through the gossip grapevine.”

Suddenly, a flaming shape hurled itself at me.

“What – “ it said, between blows at my face, hands, and chest, “did – my – dad – ever – do – to – you – you - BITCH?” The voice of Rose Weasley resounded through my head. I lay there stupefied, not registering her pummeling. Professor Weasley?

Albus grabbed Rose and pulled her off me. She looked hysterical, her eyes red, and I could finally see that Professor Weasley was standing stock still in front of me. He was unmoving and hard as stone.

“What happened to him?” I asked weakly. Albus shot me an odd look from behind Rose’s curtains of red hair.

“You petrified him!” screamed Rose, trashing in her cousin’s arms as he whispered soothing words to her. I cringed as I realized that it might indeed have been me. The vision or hallucination I had had...what was that? Shame and guilt washed over me, staining my deepest feelings. I couldn’t control myself. I was a danger to society.

“What in the name of Merlin is going on here?” Professor McGonagall, the headmistress, burst into classroom backed by Professor Longbottom and Professor Scamander. “I had half a dozen hysterical students screaming at my office entrance that someone attacked their Professor, who can very well take care of himself – “ her gaze settled on the still form of Ronald Weasley. She stopped midsentence, the color draining from her face. Her thin lips formed a small “O.”

Professor Longbottom, however, recovered rather quickly. He swiftly Stunned the struggling Rose, who fell limp in her cousin’s – dare I say it? – strong, muscular arms that showed as the wide sleeves of his robes had been pushed up to his shoulder.

Lizzi! Stop ogling the man!

“Miss Leilani, Mr. Potter?” he said, his voice colder than I’d ever heard it. I swallowed hard and willed my voice to come out. I utterly failed.

Oddly enough, it was Albus who came to my rescue. Darn it. I’ve been consistently thinking about him in first name basis...

“Lizzi tried to use a spell for the first time for a demonstration and she accidentally overcharged it,” said Albus, calmly casting a drying spell with wand.

“Really,” said Professor Longbottom, raising an eyebrow. “And it knocked out the seasoned ex-Deputy Head of the Auror Department?

“Professor Weasley wasn’t prepared for the strength of the spell, sir.”

“I see,” Professor McGonagall cut in. She looked at me sternly, a flicker of doubt in her eyes. “Since it was accidental, and overcharging a spell could happen to the best of students, there will be no punishment. However, Miss Leilani, I would be more careful about knowing my strength if I were you.”

Professor Scamander, a very pretty blonde with wide grey eyes, gave me a secretive smile as she walked out behind the other two.

“Thanks,” I said quietly, watching them walk out. Albus opened his mouth to say something, but I held up a hand. “Look, I don’t get what’s going on, Potter, and I don’t really want to. I really appreciate you bailing me out, but – “

“You don’t want anything to do with me,” he cut in, his voice surprisingly bitter. “I see, then.” His eyes raked over me in disappointment, and for some reason, I felt like a coward. Common sense isn’t cowardice.

“I didn’t mean it that way,” I protested, stepping closer to him. “It’s just that things are so weird. You seem to feel – and I do feel – that we know each other, right? Well, for me, it’s nothing more a feeling. I don’t have any recollection of it. I don’t know you except in my gut.”

He looked at me again in startled surprise. “Lizzy,” he said, his voice soft and knowledgeable, “have you ever thought that sometimes, it’s right to go along with your instincts? Not everything is about brains and calculations. Some things you know.”

“Like what?” I breathed, already knowing the answer.

He moved in, and we were so near each other we were practically touching. “Like I know this is right.”

And quite without warning, without knowing who initiated the contact, I found myself with my arms wrapped around his neck, hands clinging to his hair and pulling him closer in the age old sign of passion. His arm snaked around my waist, and the last thing I saw was the blazing wonder and desperation in his soulful green eyes before our lips fused together.

We fit perfectly, two halves of a whole. My brain felt like it was melting clean through my body, and electricity was running through my veins as every muscle, every cell, every fiber of tissue or organ or hormone rejoiced in harmony. And I knew that this was right too.

Rose Weasley’s POV

Al was kissing her. That was the first thing that ran through my head as I sat up with a groan and a giant headache. He was kissing my father’s attacker.

I ran forward without thinking, a rare occurrence for me, and I pulled back my fist. It collided with the back of the girl’s head, resulting a very satisfying smack.

They broke apart, the girl wincing. For the first time, I noticed that she wasn’t nearly as average as Fred had said. Delicate features, a high forehead, and large navy blue eyes complimented by long black hair and a flawless, milk white complexion that was marred by some up and coming bruises actually made for a stunning close up. As her hands dropped to her side, a bewildered expression formed on her face.

Al was the opposite. Far from passive, he glared at me, anger seeping through his entire frame. I put my hands on my hips and glared right back.

“What the FUCK were you doing kissing her?” I screamed, deciding it was time for some vocal action. I began to voice some very descriptive but most likely anatomically impossible scenarios, gesturing with my hands and fingers. It was a skill I’d learned from Kenny.

“Shut up, Rose, it was an accident,” Al growled, cutting off my stream of curses.

“Accident?” I cried, my voice rising ever higher. I could hear some windows shattering in the distance. “Dad’s frozen!”

“He’ll be unfrozen in minutes. My dad’s got the countercharm,” Albus bit back. I halted mid swear.

“Uncle Harry’s frozen people before?” I managed to ask, my voice a tiny squeak.

“Yeah,” said Albus, the tension leaving his wiry frame. He looked at the girl – what was her name again? Ally? Lily? – in mute apology, which I ignored. She gave me a wary glance.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her lilting voice shaping itself into a strangely becoming half English, half American accent. Funny, I’d never noticed that before about her when she was spitting out answers to questions before I could blink. “I didn’t know what I was doing.”

“You should be,” I retorted, but my voice had lost some of its fervor. Okay, so maybe I overreacted. It had been an accident, and it wasn’t like there was any permanent damage.

Apart from to my cousin’s brain, that was, because if I knew anything about it (and I didn’t just read textbooks), Al had truly gone off the deep end this time...and into this girl’s arms.

Alyssa’s POV

Oh my God. Ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod. I – I ki – I kissed Albus Potter.

Great. Now is a wonderful time for all the implications of what I did to sink in, after the terrible deed has been done. There are a number of problems, such as:

a) Albus Potter is a jerk who torments me every day.
b) He’s a complete player who shows up with a different girl every week, although I THINK he might have run out of potential girlfriends at Hogwarts and is going on his second round.
c) He’s Jen’s (possible) ex and all my friends hate him to the extreme.
d) All his friends hate me as well, as do his family, if Rose Weasley is anything to go by.
e) I don’t even frickin’ like him!!
f) We’ve been insulting each other since day one.
g) He’s smack in the middle of the freaky stuff that’s been going on since I came to Hogwarts. That just about SCREAMS stay away.
h) This relationship would be really, really bad for me.
i) Because, hello, I ALREADY HAVE A (sorta) BOYFRIEND who I know, like, and could very possibly have a humongous crush on.

And most of all:

j) I’m incredibly, dangerously, and wonderfully attracted to him.

As you can probably tell, I have a problem on my hands.

Rose’s POV

“I’m sorry, Al,” I sighed contritely to my favorite cousin. He shrugged, not looking at me. Wow. He really had it bad for this girl, ‘cause usually, the so-called gentler sex can never get him riled up.

I was sorry, honestly sorry. I might have overreacted a little to the whole thing. I mean, she didn’t seem like the jealous sort that wanted to hex my dad purely for the fun of it. And it was one of Uncle Harry’s spells. As much as I love and admire the man, I don’t like his inventions very much; they usually require an obscene amount of power and skill to be wielded properly.

This was getting ridiculous, though. How many times did I have to tell Al I was sorry?

“I apologized fifty times by now, Al,” I said, exasperation plain in my voice. He ignored me and continued to walk away. I ran after him, pulling on his arm to make him stop. “I said I was sorry.”

He whirled around, and I swore that I’ve never seen him that mad before. It made my blood run cold, the way he was staring at me. He never stared that way at me, not his favorite cousin in the whole wide Weasley – Potter family.

“Rose,” he said, obviously making a great effort to stay calm from the set of his jaw, “I’m not mad at you, okay? I just need some time alone.”

I wasn’t to be deterred, so I held on to his sleeve even tighter.

“Honestly. What’s so special about her that she’s got you in a jam like this? She’s pretty, but you’ve dated prettier before. She’s smart, and she’s a good duelist, true. You don’t even know her, though.”

“Be quiet!” he snapped at me, his eyes glowing. I shrank back slightly. He hadn’t spoken me to this harshly before, not ever.

“Sorry,” he said quickly, a polite and blank look settling on his face like a mask. “I need some time by myself.”

“Ob-vi-ous-ly,” I muttered to myself, watching him go before trotting back to my study session.


Alyssa’s POV

“Hey, Lizzi,” Delilah said casually, too casually. I perked up; that tone was dangerous.


“Well, tomorrow’s Hogsmeade weekend,” she began, “and I thought we could go shopping...y’know, for some outfits for the Opening Gala that night. It’ll be some great girl time, just Jen, you, and me.”


“Pretty please with a cherry on top?” She made her best puppy eyes at me. I groaned. Not the puppy eyes. They worked every single time.

“Fine,” I grumbled, and she shouted with joy and clapped her hands. “But I’m not guaranteeing I’ll get anything.”

“Deal,” Delilah agreed.

That night, the nightmares were back.


“Get away from me,” I gasped, although I didn’t have any voice. My throat felt sandpapered by the passage of air. I scrambled backwards, hand turned towards the man holding a reflective sheet of metal in one hand and his wand in another. “Get away from me!”

He grinned, showing his familiar, decaying teeth, his sunken eyes hidden under the shadow of his hood.

“Alyssa,” he whispered, slipping the sheet closer. I didn’t want to find out what it was for. Desperately, I tried to get up, but thorny vines wrapped themselves around my bloody wrists and my bare feet, shackling me to the post behind me. He pointed his wand at me again, and laughed maniacally as he wrapped the foil around me, leaving only my eyes and nose uncovered.

Behind me, a low, keening voice sounded, and I struggled to twist my head to see. I knew that voice. My heart sunk, but my brain didn’t register exactly who it was. Didn’t know.

“Not her, not Alyssa,” it pleaded. It was low and hoarse and male, a scratchy bass. “Use me instead.”

The rat-faced man smiled again, and pointed his wand at the man behind me instead.

“Torturing you won’t get me the information I need,” he whispered, and turned back to me as his wand tip glowed. Slowly, the foil began to glow as well, warming up and heating against my thin cotton nightgown, which was soiled with blood and mud. I flailed desperately, my limbs contorting into a knot as my face twisted in anguish at the overwhelming heat. I was burning. Suffocating in the fire.


With a jolt, I woke again. My breath was coming out in ragged gasps and I shuddered with every breath. A strong sense of familiarity enveloped me. Without quite knowing why, I reached out to catch the piece of paper that fluttered down from the ceiling. My heart was racing inside my chest directly in rhythm to the shaking of my fingers.

I struck a match and let the warm glow comfort me.


It’s quite strange, imagining how it must feel to walk in a dream, a cage of my own making. If you are reading this, my dear, it’s starting again. I find it odd to think that I would completely forget, and impossible...and I cannot bring myself to write it down.

I had quite a day today. Three assassinations, four kidnappings, that’s enough to task even the most seasoned warrior. It’s past time for me to get some rest.


At the part about resting, the handwriting slackened, as if the person writing the note had fallen asleep. I frowned. Assassinations, kidnappings, all that sounded nothing like me. I decided that whoever had written this was my polar opposite and twin.

After a lot of tossing and turning, I finally managed to settle into a dreamless sleep.


“You look terrible,” commented Delilah, sitting up in bed. I rubbed my eyes.

“Maybe I didn’t get enough sleep,” I retorted sarcastically. She laughed.

“What, worrying about Alex dumping you?”

“No, of course not!” I sniffed. Jen rolled in her bunk, pulling her blankets over her head. I snickered tiredly.

“You know,” Delilah said conversationally, “there is something called sleep. It exists.”

“You know what? I think I’ll just go back to sleep, then,” I said under my breath, and wriggled back under the covers. I heard Delilah’s snort before she, too, fell back onto her mattress with a thud.


Author's Note:

Thanks for reading this chapter, y'all! :) Please drop by with a review, even if it is two shows me that people are somewhat interested in the story.


Sola Grey

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