Late May 1995

Tears were still fresh on my face, and still falling, in grief, pain—both physical and emotional—, and terror.

"Harry? What—Bella?" A familiar voice called—shock and concern in the tone. Dumbledore. I held my ribs and stomach as I rolled over weakly, painfully. I cried out softly a the pain. Dumbledore was turning Harry over. McGonagall and Fudge were right behind him. McGonagall crouched beside me, giving me a quick check over; I winced when she got to my stomach and the deep cut in the crook of my arm.

"What happened?" McGonagall asked me, nearly frantic.

"Voldemort," I croaked weakly, softly. "He's back. Voldemort's back…"

Only she, Dumbledore, and Harry heard.

"My God!" Fudge gasped. "Diggory! He—he's dead!"

His words were repeated by people in the stands. Several were sobbing and crying or screaming.

Out of my peripheral vision, I caught sight of Hermione, Ron, and the rest of the Weasleys. I caught Hermione's worried gaze and mouthed 'We're okay'. She looked very sad at the news of the death of a classmate, but nodded to me.

I released my grip on the Triwizard Cup and Cedric's limp, cold wrist.

Vaguely, I heard Dumbledore coaxing Harry to do the same and Harry say that Cedric wanted us to bring his body back.

"What happened to your stomach?" McGonagall asked, concerned. In my tangential vision, I saw Dumbledore help Harry to his feet.

"Dolohov…" I managed to get out bitterly, my voice weak and faint. "Antonin Dolohov cursed me…"

"We need to get her to the Hospital Wing," McGonagall said, bloodlessly pale, to Dumbledore.

"I—I'll be fine for now," I said, forcing myself to stand. I winced, almost doubling over.

I heard Fudge saying something to Dumbledore about Cedric's parents, then someone offering to take Harry and me, but Dumbledore declined.

I staggered as I stood, still unbelievably weak and sore from the Cruciatus, and pained—almost the amount of pain from the Cruciatus.

As I saw Madam Pomfrey rushing down towards us, I heard Moody lead Harry away to his office.

"What happened, Bella?" McGonagall asked again, supporting me so I didn't collapse.

"Went down by the lake for some air," I murmured weakly, as they half lead me, half carried me to the Hospital Wing. "Someone…someone ambushed me—Stunned me. I woke up in a graveyard, near Voldemort's father's old home. The Cup was a Portkey, and Harry and Cedric landed then. Peter bloody Pettigrew showed up…he—he k-killed Cedric. Tied Harry and me up. Took Harry's and my blood. Made a potion. H-he got his body back—Voldemort, I mean. Summoned the Death Eaters. He tried to make Harry and I duel him. We took hits from the Cruciatus and Imperious…but we threw off the latter. Then…our wands…Harry's, Voldemort's, and mine…did something funny…"

Then it hit me. "Priori Incantatem…" Of course. That caused the echoes to appear. "…The echoes…of his victims…Cedric, an old Muggle man, Bertha Jorkins, and Lily and James Potter…they all helped Harry and me escape. We had to run for the Cup. Harry was ahead of me, and I was throwing curses and hexes at the pursuing Death Eaters. A-Antonin D-D-Dolohov hit me with some curse—"

I gasped as I halted and winced, clutching my abdomen. My vision was fuzzy all of the sudden, and I thought I'd pass out. Madam Pomfrey is at my side, holding me steady, too.

McGonagall supported me with surprising strength.

"I—I almost passed out, when I was hit," I continued. "But I kept running. Harry used the Summoning Charm on the cup when we got to—to Ced-Cedric's body. We grabbed the cup, just as Voldemort reached us." Absently, I rubbed my prickling scar. "He isn't happy."

McGonagall was looking at me almost disbelievingly.

"He is back," a voice said behind us. I jumped, looking. Snape was there, paler than normal, apparently having followed us. "My mark burned earlier. It's back. He is back."

Suddenly, as I looked at the Potions Master, I was pulled into my memory of a few weeks ago. He had suspected Harry of stealing from his personal stores—boomslang skin—and that Harry had used it for Polyjuice potion.

The Death Eater in Hogwarts would need Polyjuice Potion constantly to remain inconspicuous. But drinking mud-like liquid or adding hairs into their drink would not be inconspicuous.

I gasped, halting in my tracks.

It wasn't Snape or Karkaroff who was the Death Eater in Hogwarts. No. It was someone no one would suspect—ever.

Someone who wasn't even who they claimed they were.

"We need to find Dumbledore and Harry and Moody." I said, my eyes wide.

"Bella," McGonagall said sternly. "You need to be in the Hospital Wing, not gallivanting around the school!"

I set my jaw, hiding the pain from my features. "Not when it comes to the safety of everyone here, and one of my best friends!"

Bracing myself, I took off down the hall, to Moody's office. I streaked past aggrieved students and even a few teachers—including Dumbledore, who seemed to be heading the same way.

I got the Moody's office before any of my pursuers. Slamming the door open, my wand raised, I yelled, "Stupefy!"

Moody had been in the middle of standing from his seat behind his desk, pulling out his wand at Harry. But now, from my spell, 'Moody' was thrown back to the floor. I went forward towards him, my wand at his throat.

"Bella?" Harry asked, confused.

"That's not Alastor Moody!" I growled, my wand literally at his throat.

Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape were right behind me. Dumbledore looked….scary, to put it simply. The merry twinkle was gone from his eye, replaced by a fierce fire. There was no benevolent smile on his face. I now saw why he was the only wizard Voldemort ever feared—he seemed to have an aura of power, crackling and hissing around him like electricity. No hint of the gentle benevolence that he normally emitted remained. McGonagall, too, had that air of power, albeit not as strong as her superior. She still looked like a force to be reckoned with. Which, I knew, she was.

All three had their wands trained on him, like me.

"Come along, Bella, Harry," McGonagall said, trying to lead us out. "Come along. The Hospital Wing…"

"No," Dumbledore interrupted sharply. I smiled in agreement.

"But, look at them. She is injured, thanks to Dolohov, and they've been through enough tonight…"

"No," He said again. "They will stay because they need to understand….Severus, I need you to fetch me the strongest Truth Potion you possess. Minerva, kindly go down to Hagrid's house, where you will find a large black dog sitting in the pumpkin patch. Please take the dog to the Hospital Wing and tell him I will be with him shortly, and then return here."

Both teachers nodded, and swiftly left. I listened, leaning heavily on the desk, as Dumbledore found the real Moody in the magic trunk.

"Harry, throw down the imposter's cloak," I heard him call up to us from inside the trunk. "He is freezing. Madam Pomfrey will need to see him—after Bella, of course—but he is in no immediate danger."

While Harry complied, I took the hipflask and opened it, then turned it upside down. Thick, glutinous mud-like liquid splattered out.

"Polyjuice Potion," I said. "I was right. So simple and brilliant…."

Then Snape and McGonagall returned a minute later.

I watched, enduring the pain, as the three teachers interrogated him via use of Veritaserum.

I'd been right. He wasn't Moody. He was Barty Crouch Jr. and he'd been using Polyjuice Potion, like I'd guessed.

He'd murdered his father, who'd helped him escape Azkaban…He helped Voldemort regain his body…

And all the rest.

Afterwards, Dumbledore gave McGonagall and Snape instructions, he lead Harry and me to the Hospital Wing.

The need to fall into unconsciousness was getting near impossible to fight now; I didn't know how I managed not to in the first place. My vision was getting a bit blurred.

Harry had an arm around my shoulders, helping me walk. The pain was terrible in my abdomen, like my organs were being ripped out and torn to shreds.

Harry told them what had happened. When Harry told of how Voldemort had explained why he wanted our blood specifically, I noticed something. For a brief moment, there was a gleam of triumph in Dumbledore's eyes, but it quickly disappeared. When Harry spoke of the Priori Incantatem effect, Dumbledore explained how Harry's, Voldemort's, and my wand all shared cores—Phoenix feathers from Fawkes, in fact. How odd.

When we finally reached the Hospital Wing, I wasn't surprised Sirius was there. Dumbledore had asked McGonagall to bring him here.

My head was heavy and spinning. The room was flickering in and out of focus. It was getting harder to breathe. I still held my abdomen

"Harry, what—?" Sirius said, but when he saw me, his question was cut off but another. "Bella—what are you…? What happened? Are you alright?"

I could only get out one word before I slipped into unconsciousness right then and there: "No…"

The pain and unconscious consumed me…

XXX

"No," came the squeak from Bella, just she sunk to the floor.

Madam Pomfrey came rushed over. "Out of my way, out of my way! Mobilicorpus!" She ordered, magicking Bella's bloodlessly pale, inert form onto one of the hospital cots.

Harry sat down on the cot next to the one Bella was on, Sirius standing beside him.

Then, voices were heard approaching the Hospital Wing door. Swiftly, Sirius transformed into his black dog Animagus form.

It was just in time. Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Ron, and Hermione burst in, looking worried and concerned.

"What happened? Are you alright? What—what's wrong with Bella?" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed.

Dumbledore stepped forward, trying to calm the frantic woman. "It is alright, both she and Harry will be fine, Molly. I must ask you to calm yourself."

Briefly, Dumbledore told the three Weasleys, Hermione, and, unknown to Mrs. Weasley and Bill, Sirius what Harry and Bella had been through. Madam Pomfrey listened as she worked.

"My word!" Molly Weasley exclaimed. "He—he's back?"

Dumbledore nodded as the others were silent in shock.

XXX

When I reached consciousness, I heard Mrs. Weasley's voice.

"…My word! He—he's back?"

I was laying on a cot in the Hospital Wing.

I cracked open my eyes and saw eight people were in the Hospital Wing near.

Harry sat on the cot to my right, Sirius (in his Animagus form) at his feet. Hermione, Ron, Bill, and Mrs. Weasley were all nearby, looking shocked and aghast. Dumbledore was there, too, looking as if deep in thought. Madam Pomfrey was standing next to the bed, her wand in hand, but she was staring out the window, deep in thought.

Moody was unconscious on a cot at the far end of the wing.

I stirred, trying to sit up.

The movement caused pain to shoot through my abdomen. I gasped sharply, wincing as I fell back onto the fluffed pillow.

"Don't you dare move, Miss Swan!" Madam Pomfrey scolded. "It's a wonder you got away from the Death Eaters after a curse like that—much less go wandering around the castle after that Death Eater!"

"It wasn't easy," I muttered weakly.

"I'd imagine!" she exclaimed, furious. "I'm amazed you didn't pass out instantly! That curse did quite a bit of damage—without you running around!" she growled unhappily, "It could very bloody well have killed you!"

"I guessed as much," I whispered hoarsely. "What did it do?"

She looked at me for a long moment, then sighed a bit sadly. "Severe internal damage to several major organs. Severe internal injuries to many organs. Internal bleeding. Rather painful damage, I assume."

I nodded weakly.

On a scale from one to ten, ten being Cruciatus Curse bad and one being nothing, I'd say 9.9, but that's just an estimate. But, I wasn't going to tell her that.

"Is—is Professor Moody okay?" I asked, trying to change the subject, looking at the old ex-Auror.

"He'll be fine." She replied shortly. "Just a bit of rest. As for you, you will most likely remain here for the rest of term. Actually, I think you'll be lucky if you don't go to St. Mungo's…"

"What?" I exclaimed loudly, then winced, my hand flying to my abdomen.

She nodded. "Yes, but that might change, if you rest properly. I will need to speak with Professor Snape about brewing some potions for you. We'll see, depending on how quickly the potions can be brewed, upon how quickly you'll be able to leave. As for now, I need you to drink this." She handed me a goblet of violet liquid.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Dreamless sleep potion. Drink up. You'll rather be unconscious while I work on the internal injuries. Trust me, Miss Swan."

"Five minute, Madam Pomfrey, please?" I asked weakly.

She sighed. "Only five."

"Thank you." I said, as she walked brusquely into her office.

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked me.

"Brilliant," I said, "if I could just leave. What is going on, exactly?"

"Fudge isn't happy," Mrs. Weasley told me, a bit worriedly. "But you just rest, dear."

After a minute or two, Madam Pomfrey came back and gave me the goblet of potion, and gave Harry some of the same potion.

Hesitantly, I sipped it, and immediately felt drowsy. Before I could even finish the potion, I felt the exhaustion take hold, and I sunk into unconsciousness…

I woke to the sound of whispers.

"…What are they shouting about? Nothing else can have happened, can it?"

"That's Fudge's voice," I heard Mrs. Weasley say. "And that's Minerva McGonagall's isn't it? But what are they arguing about?"

I opened my eyes, and tried to sit up, but winced and sank back down into the pillow.

I heard hurried footsteps and furious yelling echoing into the halls towards the infirmary.

"Regrettable, but all the same, Minerva—" Cornelius Fudge was shouting.

The doors burst open as the Minister of Magic strode in, McGonagall and Snape at his heels.

"You should have never brought that thing into the castle!" McGonagall screamed, more furious than I'd ever seen. "When Albus finds out—"

McGonagall looked absolutely terrifying. She was beyond livid, with angry patches of color in her cheeks and her hands curled into fists. She shook with rage.

Right as she said it, the doors on the opposite end of the wing opened and Dumbledore came in.

"What's happened?" Dumbledore asked sharply. "Why are you disturbing these people? Minerva, I'm surprised at you—I asked you to stand guard over Barty Crouch—"

"Oh, there is no need to stand guard any more, Albus!" She shrieked, glaring furiously at Fudge. "The Minister has seen to that!"

I sat up a bit, careful not to move too much. What in the world…

"When we told Mr. Fudge that we had caught the Death Eater responsible for tonight's events, he seemed to feel his personal safety was in question." Snape said, looking calm, but somehow annoyed at Fudge. "He insisted upon summoning a dementor to accompany him into the castle…"

My insides ran cold. Dementors. If my boggart wasn't my mother, it would most certainly be a dementor.

I listen, a bit wearily, and gathered what'd happened. Fudge had brought a dementor with him for his 'personal safety'. The dementor performed the Dementor's Kiss upon Barty Crouch—or, had the soul sucked out of him.

"…You-Know-Who…returned?" Fudge was sputtering. "Preposterous. Come now, Dumbledore…"

Dumbledore tried and tried to tell Fudge that Voldemort was back, but he just wouldn't listen to reason.

"You are prepared to believe that Lord Voldemort has returned, on the word of a lunatic murderer and two underage students, who, well…" Fudge said doubtfully.

"You've been reading Rita Skeeter, Minister," I said loudly.

Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Ron, and Hermione all jumped; they hadn't realized Harry or I were conscious.

"And if I have?" He said indignantly. He looked to the Headmaster. "If I have discovered that you've been keeping certain facts about them quiet? Parselmouths, eh? Not to mention the fact that the girl is the daughter of two convicted Death Eaters!"

"How dare you!" I shrieked, my temper surpassing even McGonagall's. I felt the blood rushing my face in anger. My knuckles were white because I'd clenched my fists so tightly. It hurt badly just to breath, let alone whisper a word, but I completely forgot that as I shrieked in indignity and absolute fury.

"How dare you judge me by that! I changed my name for a reason, I'll have you bloody well know! I hate my parents more than anyone else here, added together, thank you very much! I am glad they are in Azkaban! If I didn't know any better, Mr. Fudge, with all due respect, I'd say you are no better than those blood purists who judge everyone by their pedigree. I'm not my mother! I didn't side with my parents! You can't judge me on something so—so trivial and degrading! I don't believe you—you—"

"Miss Swan, that is quite enough!" Madam Pomfrey exclaimed sternly, trying to make me sit back down. "Do not make me sedate you!" She turned to Fudge. "With all due respect, Minister, Miss Swan has sustained severe internal injuries, and I need to inspect the damage to judge whether or not she needs to go to St. Mungo's. So, if you would, please remove yourselves from the Hospital Wing and continue your conversation elsewhere."

"No!" I exclaimed. "Harry and I should hear this! We were there! We saw it! We dueled him! We escaped him! We deserve to be a part of this discussion!"

"We do!" Harry agreed.

"How did she even get the internal injuries?" Mrs. Weasley asked suddenly, looking worriedly at me.

"Antonin Dolohov!" I said, still annoyed. "When Harry and I made a brake for it, he cursed me! Not that Mr. Fudge would believe me even if I gave him the memory!"

"Now, see here, young lady! I am the Minister of Magic and I deserve some respect!"

I opened my mouth to give a fiery retort—something intelligent like 'I'll show respect when you earn it!'—but Madam Pomfrey pointed her wand at me warningly.

"Fine," I spat irately, crossing my arms, then wincing badly.

Fudge nodded approvingly to Madam Pomfrey, who gave him a scathing look, but said nothing. He looked back to Dumbledore. "Not to mention them both having funny turns all over the place—"

"Listen to me, Cornelius," Dumbledore said. For the second time today, he no longer looked like the kind, candy-loving, benign old Headmaster—but instead the powerful, wise warlock he was reputed to be. "Harry and Bella are just as sane as you or I. Their scars have not addled their brains!"

Had I ever mentioned how much I admired Dumbledore? No? I have now.

"For heaven's sake, Dumbledore! The two were full of crackpot tales at the end of last year, too. Their tales are getting taller and you are still swallowing them! They can speak to snakes, and you find them trustworthy?" Fudge accused, his face a deep puce color.

"You fool!" McGonagall cried. I admire her a lot, too. "Cedric Diggory! Mr. Crouch! These deaths were not the random work of a lunatic—and Miss Swan here nearly joined them just minutes ago because of her internal injuries!"

Thank you, Professor McGonagall, I thought appreciatively. My favorite professor here.

Still annoyed, I listened as they bickered. In a cosmic sort of way, it was funny. But to me, right now, it was just annoying.

I guess Harry looked as if he wanted to get up and join their dispute, but Mrs. Weasley had a restraining hand upon his shoulder, as Madam Pomfrey had on mine.

Eventually, Fudge said, with the hint of a plea in his tone, "He can't be back, he just can't be…."

I never liked him…

Snape strode forward and pulled up the left sleeve of his robe, exposing his forearm, where I knew the Dark Mark was, and showed it to Fudge, who recoiled.

"There," Snape spat harshly. "The Dark Mark. It is not as clear as it was an hour ago, when it burned black, but you can still see it. It has been growing clearer all year."

Fudge, bloodlessly pale, stepped back from Snape and crammed his hat on his head. He pulled out a large bag of gold from his pocket and set it on the table beside Harry's cot. "Your winnings. One thousand Galleons." He said coldly before saying to Dumbledore, "I don't know what you and your staff are playing at, Dumbledore, but I have heard enough. I must return to the Ministry…"

At that, he strode out.

"Good riddance." I muttered shrewdly, even though just breathing hurt. "Now, now, none of that," Mrs. Weasley tutted.

I shrugged, then winced again.

Dumbledore sighed watching Fudge go. Perhaps because he knew Fudge was being a bloody git. Perhaps because this would not be a good thing. I didn't know.

He turned back to the large group in the wing. He asked Sirius to return to normal form, and he complied. Mrs. Weasley freaked out, McGonagall didn't even bat an eye, Madam Pomfrey wasn't paying attention to them, and Snape was glaring daggers at Sirius. After explaining to them, he asked Sirius to alert the 'old crowd', and Sirius left.

Dumbledore turned to Snape and asked, "Severus, you know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready…if you are prepared…"

"I am," Snape said, looking paler than normal.

"Then good luck," Dumbledore said, and Snape swept from the Hospital Wing.

I guessed that he would be resuming his role as double-agent.

Dumbledore looked to Mrs. Weasley. "Molly, can I count on you and Arthur?"

"Of course you can." She reassured him.

He nodded. "Good. I must see the Diggorys. Harry, Bella, listen to Madam Pomfrey. I will see all of you later." And he left the Hospital Wing.

I heard Mrs. Weasley fussing at Harry to drink the potion.

Madam Pomfrey handed me the goblet of potion. "Drink up."

"But—"

"No. You need to rest, Bella. I need to check how severe the damage is and I know you certainly are in pain this moment. Now, drink up."

Obediently, I swallowed the tasteless potion and slipped into blissful, painless unconsciousness.

XXX

The three Weasleys and Hermione all remained stationary in the Hospital Wing, worried about Bella, while Madam Pomfrey checked to see the exact amount of damage the bloody curse had done. She had been prepared for a long list—but she didn't expect it to be as bad as it really was. Severe internal bleeding to her stomach, intestines, liver, spleen, and a kidney. Ruptured spleen—which alone could be fatal. Very severe damage to many organs, including lungs, stomach, intestines, liver, spleen, pancreas, a kidney, gall bladder, colon, and others.

Madam Pomfrey was a gifted Healer, but this was beyond her abilities.

The poor girl had to go to St. Mungo's. Immediately.

"Molly, can you watch her and Harry for me?" she asked the red-haired mother.

"Of course I can. What's wrong?" Mrs. Weasley replied, concerned.

Madam Pomfrey hesitated, then replied, "I need to notify St. Mungo's. This is beyond anything I imagined or can cure."

Later, Bella had been transferred to the wizarding hospital in London. Harry, on the other hand, was released from the Hospital Wing later that night.

The next morning, there was a very conspicuous empty spot at the Gryffindor table beside Hermione. The three's mood was miserable and worried. Most of the school was in a grieving mood anyways, because of the death yesterday, but the three Gryffindors' melancholy was obvious and noticed.

Many noticed, but few asked. The first one who dared ask was Ginny.

Hesitantly, she had asked, with many listening, "What's wrong? Where is Bella?"

Hermione sadly explained, "Bella was cursed last night when she and Harry were, well, you know, by a Death Eater, with some unknown curse. It really did a number on her. She was transferred to St. Mungo's last night."

"Bloody hell!" Fred and George exclaimed as one.

"Is she okay?" Ginny gasped worriedly. During the many times that Bella had stayed at the Burrow, she and Bella had grown close—and closer still in the recent couple years. Both Bella and Hermione were like the older sisters she'd always wanted but never had.

Harry replied, "We don't know. We haven't heard anything yet."

"What did the curse do to her?" asked Katie Bell.

"We're not sure," Harry said. "Madam Pomfrey wouldn't tell us exactly how bad it was, but really severe internal injuries and internal bleeding."

"Bloody hell," Dean Thomas said. "Do you think she'll recover by the end of the year?"

Ron shrugged. "Don't know."

A/N: Note. I've changed it so that the Third Task was midway through May. Harry isn't exempt from the exams—which will be in the first week of June.

XXX

After a long day of classes, everyone was in the Great Hall, eating dinner, with several owls fluttering in and out. Some with the Evening Prophet, some with letters from parents or friends and relatives.

One familiar snowy owl flew in towards the Gryffindor table, where it dropped a small piece of parchment in front of Hermione, then soared towards the staff table and dropped letters in front of Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, Sprout, Snape, Hagrid, Vector, and Sinistra.

McGonagall caught her mail before it landed in her dinner. There was a short note tied to two scrolls of parchment. The note only said two words: Thank you. She unrolled the parchments and found that they were the essay she'd assigned her fourth years and an essay about goblin rebellions for a History of Magic class. Bella had finished them in less than a day.

Beside her, Sprout had unrolled her parchment and found it was a completed Bubotuber essay, with a few extra inches, that she'd assigned for the fourth years.

Next to the Herbology teacher, Flitwick found the same letter he'd written in reply to Bella Swan's original letter requesting any missed assignments, only she had charmed the parchment. One side was a deep blue and the other a slightly metallic bronze—the color of Ravenclaw, the small Charms teacher's House! He laughed a bit and said to McGonagall, "She's quite clever isn't she?" He showed her the parchment and she chuckled, nodding.

The other professors were happy to know their student was working hard, even while in St Mungo's.

Except Severus Snape. He'd unrolled the parchment and quickly read the essay. He frowned resentfully. He hated to admit it, but the girl knew what she was writing about. She was one of the best Potions students in her year, and Snape only hated her more for that.

He gave the parchment a look of deepest loathing—one he usually reserved for Potter or Swan—and set it down.

Beside him, Charity Burbage noticed the look he gave the paper, and, curious, she grabbed the parchment and read it. "Why so unhappy with the essay, Severus?" she asked the bitter Potions Master. "It seems perfect."

He glowered at her. "Precisely." He muttered, snatching the paper and sweeping out of the hall.

"Someone forgot their medication this morning…" She muttered.

"What?" Aurora Sinistra asked.

"Oh nothing," the Muggle Studies professor replied, smiling to herself in amusement as she sipped her tea.

XXX

" Time for me to go?" I asked the Healer anxiously.

"Sure is. Here," she said as she handed me a small knapsack. "That has your potions in there. If you've got everything else, just head downstairs to the Ground Floor and you can use the Floo network, okay?"

I nodded. "Thank you very much for helping me." At that, I gave her a swift hug before practically bouncing down the stairways, to the lobby of St. Mungo's. Quickly, anxiously, I went to a fireplace, grabbed a handful of the glittering power, stepped up to the fire, threw the powder into the flames which turned emerald green, stepped in it and shouted, "Hogwarts!"

There was a whirl of emerald flames and I had landed in a fireplace in someone's office. That someone had been sitting at their desk and jumped when I landed with a loud thud on my bottom.

"Miss Swan!" McGonagall exclaimed, standing to help from to my feet. "I thought you weren't supposed to be back for another week or two!"

I shrugged, dusting the soot off me. "I got lucky…and I was sure to rest a lot so I could make it in time for exams. But I still have to take ten potions a day for about another week," I added, patting the knapsack.

She nodded. "I'm glad you're better. Now, go on. You'd better change quickly. Breakfast has already started."

I nodded and practically skipped out of the Head of Gryffindor's office to the common room. Quickly, I said the password and entered the room. It was empty. Everyone was at breakfast by now, surely, doing last minute studying. The entire dormitory was empty, I found as I hastily changed into my uniform robes.

Still happy, I actually skipped to the Great Hall. The tall doors were closed, naturally, so I have to pull the attention to myself. Why do things like this happen to me? Can't I just be normal for once?

Sighing to myself, I pushed the oversized doors open enough for me to walk through. Nearly every head turns at the sound of the doors opening. Many jaws dropped, surprised. Harry, Ron, and Hermione must have spilled that I supposedly wouldn't be back before the end of the year.

I saw Harry, Ron, and Hermione looking at me, grinning as widely as possible. Most of the teachers look happy. Except Snape. Always Snape. He glowered at me with a look of deepest loathing, then stabbed something on his plate with his fork. I smiled even wider as I rushed to my friends and sat in my normal spot, which they oddly left empty.

"Bella!" they greeted, brightening.

"Hey guys!" I said, smiling more than I had in days.

"I thought you wouldn't be out of St Mungo's for a while," Ron said.

I shrugged. "You didn't think I'd miss exams, did you?"

He rolled his eyes. "Of course I didn't."