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A/N: The song that Samara sings later in this chapter doesn't belong to me. It's from Tim Burton's "The Nightmare Before Christmas." I do not own it. Thanx



Samara did all she could to hold in her excitement, but was doing a very poor job at it. Here, right before her very eyes was Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived. Lord Voldemort’s mortal enemy. The one person in the wizarding world that would defeat him, or die trying. Right here. Right in front of her.

“I’ve been waiting for you… I knew you were coming.” She smiled at him again. She could see in his eyes that he was scared stiff. She could hear his labored breathing and his hearts rapid beating. He soon regained his poise and gave her a blank stare that covered his true feelings. Fear. Fear and regret.



“Hi there… I guess you must like this, don’t you?” Harry had a nasty look in his eyes. This girl seemed so frail, but you can’t judge a book by its cover. Hermione and Ron exchanged scared expressions, turned to Remus. He just held up his hand, signaling that this shouldn’t be interrupted.

“Not really. I could have gone today without this, but it gives this day a change and me a variety. Makes things so much more exciting.” She seemed amused, except her eyes. They sparkled, but didn’t hold any emotion.

“Well, you must. I mean, here I am, right within your grasp. That must tick you off, that you can’t finish what he started.” She just looked at him, silent for a moment. He thought for a moment there that he might have struck a nerve, but he was mistaken.

“Why would I want to?” She cocked her head to the side like a puppy would, a questioning expression playing across her soft features.

“Oh, right. You haven’t spoken to him in what? Six years. He’s not coming for you; he could care less that you are here. He has thousands of followers just like you; he replaced you at the drop of a hat, because you got yourself caught.” He stood up, his eyes gleaming in the dim light flowing into the small cell.

Against Remus’ suggestion, Hermione got up and walked up behind Harry slowly. Ron stood up, but didn’t follow. He just stood there, shocked at what he knew would happen next. How he knew, he didn’t know; but he did.

“Your right, but your wrong… you know not of which you speak. Your confusing what is true, and what you think is true…” Samara turned so she was facing him completely. He could see she was getting flustered, and enjoyed it. He wanted to see her squirm. See her suffer more than she ever had, for she was on ‘his’ side.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and heard a calm voice. “Harry, don’t do this now. It’s not the time or the place-” He shook off Hermione’s hand and she backed away frightfully

“And when will it be the time Hermione? Answer me that. You always have an answer for everything. Tell me that. WHEN WILL IT BE THE TIME?” Hermione shrunk back and Ron put a protective arm around her.

Harry swung around to Samara, who was giggling under her breath. He was losing it, and he couldn’t care less at the present moment. He wanted to inflict pain, and that’s all he thought as he walked up to her with his hand raised in the air, ready to strike down like lightening.



Samara had to admit, she didn’t think it would get this intense, but it was still going as planned. She had giggled at his livid actions toward his friends and pretended to be offended by the things he accused her of, or was she truly upset? She didn’t know; all she knew was that it had worked. All she had to do was wait till he got close enough…

And there he came, his right hand up and to the side as if to smack her. She waited patiently, and at the last second she caught it, just inches from her cheek. And there. She saw it. Just about everything.

She saw the murder of his parents, life with his relatively horrible relatives, years at Hogwort’s, encounters with Voldemort, death of his godfather Sirius, friends and enemies. All of it flashed before her eyes in a millisecond. She gasped as she let go of his hand, and he fell to the floor, dizziness and disorientation filled his eyes.

His friends helped him up as Remus went to the door, yelling for a guard. “What did you do to me?” Harry was now leaning against the wall, looking at her as if she had just sprouted wings.

Now faze two…

She stood. As he started to back away, she started to sing. Her voice echoed off the cold walls and bounced down the cellblock. Her voice was sweet, light, as if floating. It also held a hint of something mysterious and haunting, which chilled them all to the bone.

“Oh somewhere deep inside of these bones, an emptiness began to grow. There’s something out there far from my home, a longing that I’ve never know.” She moved closer to Harry, he was still, as if frozen to that very spot. The only evidence that showed he wasn’t stone was his breathing and blinking. The others assumed this state as well. She moved slowly closer to him as she continued to sing. “There’s something deep inside of these bone’s, that calls out for something unknown. The fame and praise come year after year, does nothing hold these empty tears…” She was now just inches from his face, and brushed away one stray tear that fell from his deep green eyes.

He came out of the trance-like state as she did this, he’s demeanor completely changed. He was calm, cool, and collected. His stormy, raging emotions were now in check. She went back to her bed and acquired the same pose she was in earlier, facing the wall.

The guard came up to the door, looking at Samara with murderous eyes. Remus quickly shooed him away, saying things were fine. The guard took one last look at the group and left.

“You’re a siren, aren’t you?” Hermione was moving closer to her chair so as to sit back down, Ron helping Harry following her lead.

“Among other things…” Samara didn’t look at them, she was thinking of her first years in prison, recalling what had happened. She didn’t like it.

She saw Harry staring at her, but she couldn’t look at him. Not after what she saw.



Things were silent for a while after that. Harry just sat there, thinking about what she saw from his life, and her song. Hermione and Ron looked at each other every so often, then at Harry. Samara was staring at the wall, thinking of something that must have been awful to recall. Remus walked farther into the middle of the room, glancing at everyone, as if wondering how to fix this mess.

“Well, um… shall we call you Ms. Walker or Samara?” Harry wanted to thank Remus immensely for breaking the awkward, stale silence. Samara glanced over at him and sighed.

“Samara is fine.” She went back to focusing on the wall again. Harry glanced pleadingly at his two friends. They took the hint and Hermione stood up.

“Well… it’s nice to meet you Samara, I’m Hermione Granger. This is Ronald Weasley,” Ron stood up and smiled at her. She just nodded. “And this is our Professor, Remus Lupin.” At that, Samara’s gaze drastically turned to Remus, staring in disbelief. Her eyes were full of hope, something that looked natural on her pale face, but unnatural in the present location. Remus looked at her, concern etched on his weary face.

“Your Remus, Remus Lupin? The werewolf?” Samara was smiling now, joy spreading from her face to her eyes, eyes that just minutes before looked dazzling yet dead.

“How did you know that?” Remus was walking closer to her. Harry was just gaping at the girl before him. There was no way that she could possibly have known that, could she? He knew she didn’t see everything from his life, just the drastic events. So how did she know?

Hermione and Ron were whispering in the back round, but softly so know one could hear them. Samara reached under her bed as Remus came up to her. She handed him a small, tattered book. It was a journal, a red journal with the letters SB engraved in gold on it.

SB… Sirius Black…

Harry couldn’t believe it. She was found guilty of working with Voldemort, and yet there she was, giving Remus his godfather’s old journal. Apparently, Hermione and Ron had connected the dots, because she tapped him on the shoulder as Remus skimmed the pages, reminiscing.

“Harry, we think that she might also have been falsely accused, just like Sirius was. I mean, why would Sirius give her his journal if he didn’t believe she was innocent?” Harry gave her a look that gave her his ten cents. She didn’t notice. “Look at her… does she look like a follower of Voldemort? Does she look that dangerous to you?” Harry looked at her. He had to admit, she didn’t look like she could hurt a fly, but appearances can be deceiving, and after what she just did to him, he was going to keep his guard up around her.

She was looking at the journal as if it was a lifesaver and she was drowning. She looked lost without it. As if sensing he was staring, her eyes darted over to his. Their eyes locked, and he could see just how astray she truly was.

“How did you get this my dear?” Her eyes left his and returned to the Professor in front of her.

“He gave it to me, right before he left… to go find Wormtail.” Hermione and Ron where whispering again, this time a little louder, but Harry wasn’t listening. He was boring down on Remus and Samara. Remus sat beside her on the bed and looked her directly in her crystal blue eyes.

“He never told me about you, why I don’t know… how long have you known him?” She looked down at the floor, becoming more upset, and sighed.

“I’ve known… I knew him for three years, the first three years I was here.” She looked back up and out the window at the sky, tears threatening to fall from her eyes. “He won’t be coming back for me like he promised.” At that moment Harry’s heart shattered into even more pieces at the sound of her frail, trembling voice. He stood up, walked over to the window and leaned against the concrete wall. He now felt even more responsible for Sirius’s death, because this girl before him had lost probably the only person in the world that had ever truly cared about her.

“That’s a lie, and you know it.” He looked to her with a confused expression. Samara turned around, facing him and looked deep into his emerald green eyes. “It’s not your fault, I saw it… in a dream just last night. It wasn’t your fault… he tricked you. Just like he… planned on, you-”

“Hang on, what were you going to say? It wasn’t ‘just like he planned on it’ it was something else. What is it?” She turned away from him, looking out the window. He could hear her whispering softly, almost inaudibly.

“Seven, six, five, four, three, two, one…” The door slide open, and the guard entered. Harry turned to see Samara smiling at her success.

“Times up kiddies, lets go.” Hermione and Ron went out first, muttering goodbye to Samara, who only looked at them to acknowledge their leaving. As Harry walked toward the door, he heard Remus say goodbye to Samara.

“Do you think I could borrow this, just till next visit?” Samara looked longingly at the journal, but nodded and smiled. Remus walked past Harry and waited outside the door for him. Harry smiled at the girl, and she smiled back.

“Until next Friday…” She nodded and got up from her bed.

“Yeah, until next Friday.” He waved and walked out of the cell. As the door slide shut with a bang, he could have sworn he saw her jump slightly, but it could he easily been him jumping. After what just happened in that cell, he knew the next visit would be even more eventful.

I thought this was supposed to be a biography, not a mystery novel… he thought as his friends and himself walked back towards the land of the living, leaving the prisoners in the dark.

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