A short chapter while I try to reinvigorate my writing muscle. It's been a long time. The sincerest of apologies. It would seem life got in the way and being a mother of two is not conducive to writing epic fanfiction sequels!

Generations: Waves of Time

Part V

Hermione ambled happily through the corridors as the pupils swarmed around her, smiling at the former teacher as they went by. It was the end of the day and with Ginny borrowing baby Evie to satiate her broodiness, Hermione was taking this opportunity to go and visit her favourite place in the castle: the library. She was so fond of the place that even after she left Hogwarts as a pupil, she was well known for popping by for years afterwards to scour the shelves for books. The great wizarding library in Cambridge, which spanned for acres underneath the city, was like a second home to the prodigal witch, but for some reason she never quite found what she was looking for in those many miles of winding shelves the same way that she could here at the Hogwarts library.

Madam Pince had grown very fond of her regular visitor and the women had become firm friends. She even managed to overlook the fact that it was this woman's daughter who was the very same fiery and hot-headed youngster who spent her time whispering, getting into arguments and driving poor Miss Pince to distraction. The two women regularly met for a cup of tea in the corner of the library to pour over a new book the more aged of the two had procured for the collection and it was to one of these social occasions that Hermione was heading when she was stopped by two nervous looking seventh years. Recognising them as former pupils of hers, the young mother beamed at the girls.

"Sarah, Sam!" she greeted them cheerily. "How nice to see you. How are you enjoying being in your last year at school?"

The two girls smiled awkwardly and nodded.

"It's okay," the taller of the two replied quietly. "You know, it feels like there's quite a bit of pressure."

"Yeah with NEWTs and everything," her friend added quickly. Hermione smiled broadly and nodded in understanding. This conscientious studious pair would no doubt be placing more pressure on themselves than their teachers combined.

"I hope your teachers aren't working you too hard," Hermione chuckled, fondly thinking her former colleagues would never do anything of the sort. The girls in front of her laughed once more and their eyes darted to one another. Odd, they seemed twitchier than Hermione remembered.

"Well, that's the thing," the one known as Sam spoke up barely louder than a whisper.

"Most of them have been really good," Sarah continued.

"It's just one really. We um, we're a bit worried you see…"

"We feel we're not actually um, learning um, anything…"

"New."

For a moment Hermione had become distracted by the way this pair had grown so close over the years that they had seemingly merged into one person, able to finish one another's sentences and seemingly read one another's minds. Would Leshia and her friends become like this in the years to come?

"Professor Granger?" Sarah's voice cut through Hermione's daydream and for a moment the former teacher frowned in confusion, but then what the girls had said drew her attention once more.

"Not learning anything new girls?" she asked with a worried frown. She could hear her pulse thudding in her ears as she started to become aware of what the girls were trying to tell her and also the way this conversation might end.

"No," the pair sighed despairingly.

"This teacher, well last year he seemed to know a lot…"

"Even if he was terrifying!"

"But this year, well, we've had to do a lot of learning in the library and we're just not sure if we're going to be able to pass our NEWTs…"

"And we've both put our names down for the School of Ancient Magical study Archaeology in Istanbul…"

"And we're worried we won't get in."

As the flow of seamless explanation came to an end Hermione found herself staring into two of the most desperate pleading faces she had come across in the a long time. She knew very well what these two were asking.

"Girls," she began with a grim expression.

"Professor there are so many of us in this same position," Sarah interrupted urgently.

"We wouldn't come to you if we weren't at our wits end," her friend added mournfully.

"Could you consider helping us?"

"Please?"

Staring into these earnest eyes buckled Hermione's resolve and she found herself nodding suddenly. Why ought these poor studious girls sacrifice their dreams because of the paranoid twitchings of the Minister of Magic? Just because Crayik didn't trust her husband anymore didn't mean the pupils of Hogwarts had to suffer and if it meant a few extra study sessions to fit into Hermione's relatively open schedule then so be it. No one would ever have to find out!

"Of course I'll do it girls," she assured the relieved seventh years, who practically burst into tears at the news that they might not fail their Ancient Runes NEWT under the guidance of an expert. With gushing thanks pouring from their mouths, the pair rushed off leaving Hermione feeling oddly triumphant in their wake. Visions of a crowded classroom with herself at the helm and several dozen of her former pupils, disillusioned with their current Runes teacher, manning the desks filled the young woman's head and she grinned broadly to herself.

"Uh, mum?"

In a flash the vision collapsed and Hermione snapped her eyes onto the highly amused face of her teenaged daughter. Dressed in her quidditch attire, with her broom slung over one shoulder and a bag of balls over the other, the girl was clearly on her way to her latest practice when she had come across the swaying form of her mother stood in the middle of the corridor.

"Yes darling?" Hermione replied with a beaming smile. Leshia's own smile grew slightly and she shook her head.

"Are you okay? You do know you were swaying don't you?" the youngster asked with her usual cocksureness.

"I felt a bit dizzy darling, that's all," her mother explained easily. Leshia nodded and walked over, freeing up her hand to place it on Hermione's shoulder.

"Do you want me to help you get back to your place?" she asked with a kindness she liked to keep well hidden beneath her bravado.

"No don't be silly," Hermione chuckled. "I'm fine. Now be off with you, you can't keep your team waiting can you?"

For a moment Leshia eyed her mother with an expression that would not have looked out of place on her father's face. There existed a certain knowing suspicious look that seemed to be a Malfoy trait; one that even little Evie was starting to sport on occasion. Hermione had seen it many a time and seeing it now upon her eldest daughter's face she rolled her eyes fondly and reached out to ruffle the girl's hair. Leshia pulled back in time and shook her head.

"Don't," the teenager grumbled fondly and she jerked her thumb at her unusually tidy curls. "I've only just managed to pin them all back for practice. Where are you off to anyway?"

"Oh just the library. Irma has a new book in about the houself uprising in the fourteen hundreds and I'm wondering if it will be any good for Tally. You do know how she hates reading anything that's too long-winded," Hermione explained with a sigh. For a moment Leshia looked at her mother in disbelief before a highly amused snort of laughter escaped her.

"You're trying to give our houself some light reading about the revolt? Mum have you gone mad? As if things between you and Tally couldn't get any worse," the youngster laughed, earning herself a glare from her mother.

"You sound like your father you do," she grumbled, though a smile pulled onto her face to show her good humour. "You've both become so used to the idea of houselves serving humans that you don't see that it's just a form of slavery. Even if it's the last thing I do, I will make that old elf see sense and get her into a nice retirement centre somewhere so she can be waited on for a change."

Hermione trailed off and looked dryly at the teenager in front of her, who had deteriorated so much into a fit of laughter that she had to hold onto the wall to keep herself upright.

"Thanks for that mum," Leshia finally managed and she straightened herself up. "I needed a good laugh. For the record, dad's right by the way. Where is he anyway? Didn't he feel up for a cup of tea and a nice chat with Madam Pince about the rights of houselves?" The smirk was back on Leshia's face, which her mother chose to ignore. Undaunted, the girl grinned and carried on. "At home with Evie I guess?"

"No no, Evie's with Ginny for the day. I think she's trying to use her to convince Harry about how lovely it is to have a baby around."

"Better hope she's not teething again then or he'll realise how horrid it is to have a baby around," Leshia cut in fondly. Hermione was about to complain, but then she pulled back and nodded with a shrug. Her daughter had a point. "So where's dad then?"

For a moment a slightly uncomfortable look crossed Hermione's face, before she adopted a neutral expression. She was not quick enough however, and within seconds Leshia's brow had furrowed.

"He's out."

"You're not sure where are you?"

"Oh Leshia, what does that matter? Why do you have to be so suspicious all the time?" Hermione complained in an exasperated manner.

"I'm not suspicious all the time," her daughter countered with a feigned cheeriness. "But I can tell you're suspicious, which is what makes me suspicious."

"Oh go on, be off with you. You don't want to be late," Hermione chuckled with forced laughter, trying and failing to appear as though she wasn't incredibly frustrated with Draco for disappearing at the crack of dawn without so much as a note detailing where he was going. Though it seemed to cause her some discomfort, Leshia nodded and started to back away down the quiet corridor. Clearly she wanted to find out more about her father's whereabouts, but didn't think the corridor outside the library was the best place for grilling her mother.

"Well enjoy your chat with Madam Pince," the girl called once she'd reached the nearest staircase. "I hope Tally doesn't try to poison your dinner again for trying to shaft rights on her."

X

Autumn had well and truly taken hold that Sunday when the first scheduled day out in Hogsmeade was due to take place. A volley of wet and windy storms had deluged the castle and its inhabitants for several days, but thankfully the morning of the trip the wind and rain made room for a clear blue sky. Leshia, Katie and Rachel were towards the front of the large group of pupils making their way out from the castle up the lane towards the village. Rachel was filling the other two in on her plans to top up her sweets stockpile, explaining in great detail exactly what she was going to buy. Katie, ever the kind-hearted and well intentioned, was doing a good impression of pretending she cared. Leshia though, had long ago given up even listening and had taken to gripping the comforting warm weight around her neck, her eyes drifting to the blanket of red, yellow and orange leaves under her feet that had been ripped from the trees in the recent storms.

She still couldn't explain why her fingers sought out the smooth weathered surface of the stone, but what she did know was that it was starting to preoccupy a lot of her thoughts. This hadn't gone unnoticed by her friends, who were starting to grow even more concerned for the girl who had been through so much in her short existence. What if the events of their last year at school had done more damage to Leshia than anyone had imagined. Katie and Rachel were aware of her now and they started shooting one another meaningful glances. They had made an agreement not to bring up the stone until Leshia did, as up until now it had caused more than its fair share of disagreement between the friends. But how long would they be able to watch Leshia pulling further and further into herself without saying anything? It pained them to see their usually vivacious friend so introverted and quiet.

The pair were struggling to think of something to say to bring their friend out of her reverie when something caught Katie's eye. For a moment she stopped still on the lane and squinted off into the thick bracken at the side of the little road. They had reached the point where barely a few months ago she, Rachel and Leshia had sprinted into the woods to escape the aurors that had come to throw Leshia in prison. The memory alone had caused Katie's skin to start crawling uncomfortably, but what was infinitely more disconcerting was the dark shape she'd caught sight of in the bushes.

"What's wrong?" Rachel asked curiously and she moved closer to her cousin to peer into the undergrowth.

"I thought I saw something," Katie replied distantly before quite suddenly she pointed eagerly. "I did! Look there, it's a woman!"

With the pendant dangling innocuously around her neck once more, Leshia joined the other two and followed Katie's pointing finger to where a woman was trying her very best to look as though it was a perfectly ordinary thing to be lurking around in the woods beside the lane. Upon catching sight of the white-haired witch Leshia let out a relieved sigh and carried on up the road leaving her friends to scramble after her.

"Who was that Leesh?" Rachel asked once she'd reached her friend's side.

"I don't know her name, but she's one of Crayik's lackeys from the ministry," the blonde girl replied simply, her tone not revealing any hurt feelings on the matter.

"What's she doing out here?" her flame-haired friend asked with a frown. "God, you'd think aurors from the ministry would have better things to do than wandering about through the woods outside Hogwarts. I mean your mad old granddad is still out there trying to resurrect Voldemort and signing up dark wizards to his cause! You'd think they'd be out there looking for them…"

Rachel's tirade was interrupted by the welcome sound of a belt of laughter from Leshia, who slung her arm around her friend and grinned at her once her chuckles had subsided.

"That's what that witch back there is doing don't you see?" the blonde girl explained cheerily. "Crayik doesn't trust me one bit. I bet he still thinks I'm somehow working with Lucius, but he's too ashamed to come right out and say it. Everyone's back on mine and dad's bandwagon and if he comes out against us again then people will turn on him."

"Well then how does he get away with having people following you about all over the place?" Rachel demanded indignantly. "It's creepy that is, old witches and wizards watching you from the forest. It shouldn't be allowed!"

"She's here for my protection," Leshia replied simply with a small shrug.

"As if," the freckled girl snorted in response. "Fat lot of good that old wench would do you. She looked about as inconspicuous as a muggle down Diagon Alley!"

"But that's what he tells people is it?" Katie now asked, sidling closer to Leshia's other side protectively. "That he has people following you to keep you safe?"

"The question is, who's going to keep you safe from him?" Rachel interrupted before Leshia could so much as nod her response. Despite the gravity of the situation the blonde girl, nestled safely between her friends, laughed once more and nodded into the woods further up the lane. Rachel and Katie looked, but couldn't see anything out of the ordinary.

"They're better at hiding, but they're out there too," she explained with a wry grin.

"Who are?" both cousins demanded, pressing themselves even closer to Leshia than before. That the woods surrounding Hogwarts were crawling with witches and wizards intent on spying on their friend was disconcerting to say the least.

"Dad's lot," Leshia replied simply. "I think they're from the Order of the Phoenix, but obviously I've never come right out and asked him about it in that much detail. I spotted them back in the summer and asked him about it. He didn't tell me much, but he did say that he's got people watching out for all of us: mum, Evie and me. It's funny, but knowing they're out there makes me feel a bit better about Crayik's idiots following me around everywhere."

For a moment an unpleasant silence fell on the friends as they walked towards the smoke rising from the fireplaces in the village in the distance. It really was a very picturesque sort of place Leshia thought to herself as the charming little houses and shops peered out from behind the army of trees bedecked in their autumnal colours of red and gold. Thoughts of the unknown number of wizards and witches watching her every move as she walked down the lane were pushed aside easily, but for her friends this was obviously not an easy thing to do. They hadn't been living in Leshia's shoes for the past three months. They didn't know what it felt like to be one of the most notorious teenagers in the country.

'I hope they never have to find out,' a small voice whispered inside Leshia's mind and before she knew it, her fingers had trailed to the pendant around her neck once more.

X

It was teeming with pupils at the Three Broomsticks inn by the time the trio of girls arrived. They shouldered their way through the crowds to find, to their relief, a table full of their friends in a secluded corner. Much elbowing and shoving later and the three girls had dropped down at the table.

"Why is it so bloody packed in here?" Rachel grumbled while she tried to make herself comfortable on the crowded bench. At her side Parys made an elaborate fuss over all her shuffling about and the unreasonably large amount of bags she'd brought with her, much to Rachel's amusement. Suffice to say it was reason enough to prolong her fidgeting for as long as possible.

"I think everyone from third year is here," Rodeo explained and he nodded over to the bar where indeed, a huge crowd of the smallest of all the pupils were jostling with one another to get the attention of a rather exasperated-looking Madam Rosmerta.

"I don't remember our lot mobbing the pub like that," Rachel complained with a frown.

"I do," Katie laughed in response. "Don't you remember? Luke and Tom had been teasing us for two years about how great it was to get out the castle and taste Madam Rosemerta's butterbeer straight from the tap. We were right there at the front of the queue with the whole year lined up behind us."

"I remember," Leshia piped up. "That seems like it should be longer than two years ago doesn't it?"

"A lot's happened," Parys spoke up and he cast the girl a comforting smile, hoping he wasn't bringing back any painful memories for the girl.

"You've learnt to be tactful for starters," Rachel chortled at his side, earning herself a gentle elbow to her ribs for her troubles. The girl's drain-like laughter earned the group of fifth-years several glances from the pupils at the surrounding tables, but upon seeing the source of all the noise they all smiled knowingly and returned to their conversations. There was one though who continued to stare at the group tucked into the gloomy corner of the pub.

Leshia felt his gaze before she spotted him. It was as though the hairs on the back of her neck had stood up and then promptly caught fire. Wincing, she rubbed at her skin and turned around, instantly catching sight of the brooding figure across the pub. For once the young man was all alone, though judging from the foul look on his face it would seem he could have frightened any prospective company away. Anger positively radiated off the Slytherin ringleader and for the second time since returning to school, Leshia felt an uncomfortable knot of worry squirming through her stomach. This wasn't the same Damian Allseyer she had been locked in battle with for the past four years; no, this troubled young man was a new entity altogether, one that was infinitely more intimidating than the persona of a snivelling boy he had left behind.

Across the pub Damian Allseyer climbed to his feet and as though a puppet master had pulled her strings, Leshia rose at the same time. Such was their position at Hogwarts that a hush fell over the pub as everyone turned to stare with interest at what was surely to become another Malfoy-Allseyer showdown. Behind her at the table several of her friends dropped their hands to their wands, ready for anything, but it would seem their unease was unnecessary.

"I'm going to the bar," Leshia announced quietly, but due to the calm that had washed over the pub almost everyone heard the quiet words. The spell was broken and as Leshia walked over to the bar, the third years hurrying out of her path, conversation returned to the packed inn. Madam Rosmerta was keen to serve the girl her three butterbeers and as she waited Leshia felt relieved to see Damian Allseyer stalk from the pub out of the corner of her eye.

"Well that's new," a familiar friendly voice spoke closely at Leshia's side. Quickly the girl spun around and found the cheerful face of Owen Gabriel inches from her own. It would seem he had finally forgiven her for asking Rodeo to join the squad, as for the past few weeks he had been doing a very good job of ignoring her whenever possible.

"What is?" Leshia asked curiously.

"You and that spineless fool back there," the young man explained, his head jerking at the seat Allseyer had just vacated. "Don't you two usually exchange a few insults first before he storms off?"

"Usually," Leshia replied, forcing herself to sound natural and to leave her concerning thoughts behind. "He's different this year though Owen. I can't even really explain how. He just seems a bit… I don't know… meaner?"

"Maybe he's realised how big a twat he really is," the tall boy suggested earning himself a twinkling grin from Leshia.

"We can but hope," she chuckled. "So what are you up to then? Hanging out with your new best friends?" Owen laughed as Leshia indicated the swarm of third years staring up at them eagerly and shook his head. Compared to the smaller pupils around him he seemed like a mountain rising up out of a sea of clouds.

"No, I'm sticking with my old ones for now." He nodded over his shoulders to where a group of sixth years were wrapped up in a humorous looking conversation. "Look Malfoy…"

"Apology accepted," the blonde girl interrupted with a charming grin. Owen smiled wryly.

"I didn't even say anything yet," he complained weakly.

"You were about to apologise for being a total berk for the last two weeks and drop down to your knees to beg my forgiveness. Right?"

Owen's hearty laughter drowned out the hubbub of the younger pupils around them and before she could stop it, Leshia's grin had spread across her whole face.

"Yeah alright, that was about the gist of it," the boy finally chuckled and he reached out an arm, slinging it round Leshia's shoulders affectionately. "I know I behaved like a bit of an idiot and he's alright, Holsson I mean. At flying. Not at anything else, he's still a giant tool in that department I'm afraid."

"Oh I know he's good at flying," Leshia stated with a firmness she just couldn't keep out of her voice. "That's why I chose him. You know me, nothing is more important than quidditch."

At her side Owen Gabriel smiled dashingly and leaned slightly closer to the shorter girl still clasped under his arm. His hazel eyes were smiling playfully.

"Nothing?"

"Nope, nothing," Leshia lied, before she disentangled herself from her friend's grasp and lifted the three tankards of butterbeer of the bar expertly. She had spent the last two years ferrying three glasses of the stuff to and fro about this pub and as such, not a drop was spilled. "Now if you'll excuse me, my drinks are getting cold."

With this the girl was gone, wending her way through the younger pupils with ease, leaving her tall friend at the bar staring after her slightly longer than he should. People noticed and before the hour was through, a fresh load of gossip was circulating through the population of Hogwarts. Later that day, when the gossip reached Draco Malfoy's ears, a happy smile crept onto his face. For now at least, his little girl was avoiding the temptations that had seen her so defame her own character last year. For now at least, he had one less thing to worry about as he went to bed that night, his mind whirring with the events that had taken up most of his thoughts and time that weekend.

X

Over the course of the week the weather worsened, confining the student body of Hogwarts to the castle. Tensions were running high as everyone felt a sense of cabin fever set in and detentions seemed to be flowing much more easily than they usually would. The teachers couldn't remember a time when this much mischief had taken place and soon even they were feeling the strain of the torrential storms that were battering the windows mercilessly. By Friday morning everyone had had enough and the great hall seemed unusually subdued over breakfast. You could have cut the tension with a knife, which was rather unfortunate considering the news the pupils were about to receive, brought to them by an army of soaking wet post owls flapping into the great hall. As the copies of the Daily Prophet started to land on the tables the already quiet hall fell even further silent. All across the room huddles of pupils were pushing together, fighting for a look at the front page of the newspaper. Even up at the teachers' table a hush had descended as they too caught sight of the words blazing ferociously along the top of the front page:

Village Butchered: Death Eaters' Revenge

At Gryffindor table Katie held the paper with trembling hands while Leshia, Rachel, Ashley, Nicola, Rodeo and Parys all crammed around her desperately. They read feverishly, wincing at the grotesque descriptions the reporter had included of what had happened to the residents of Merlin's Gate. Leshia, who had read the quickest of all started shaking her head in silent fury once she reached the end of the page. She couldn't quite believe it was real and judging by the expressions on her peers' faces, they too were struggling to come to terms with what had happened.

Merlin's Gate was unusual in Britain as it boasted an almost entirely magical population. It wasn't remote enough to enjoy the privacy of Hogsmeade and as such a small number of quite eccentric muggles, well used to oddities, had found the place and settled in beside the witches and wizards who called the beautiful little spot home. Its history went back centuries and was thought to have been the home to many famous powerful witches and wizards during that time.

All that now, was over.

"They killed them in their sleep."

Leshia and her friends looked up to see the small tearful voice had come from a bookish looking second year girl they knew to be Olivia Hill. She was holding the paper up between her friends with hands that were shaking so rapidly now, the paper's rustling could be heard from across the hall.

"All of them…" Her voice carried down Gryffindor table bringing tears to the eyes of those who hadn't already allowed their tears to fall upon reading the terrible news. "Even the children… and the babies…"

A loud groan filled the hall as the bench Leshia was sitting on scratched back across the slate floor. The blonde girl had climbed to her feet, leaned across the table and was now gently prising the newspaper away from the shaking girl, which she laid down on the table gently. Next she reached out and took Olivia's hands, squeezing them as she did so.

"Yes, they did," she whispered softly, sniffing away the tears that were threatening to spill down her cheeks. Olivia lifted dark brown eyes to meet the fifth year girl's icy ones; there lay such fear in her face, such raw and open fear, a fear the youngster had never before known. "But they're not going to get away with it. Don't worry."

As though her words awakened a raging beast, suddenly the hall exploded into a cacophony of words: angry words, terrified words, words of disbelief. It was a sea of noise that deafened those who hadn't opened their mouths to let their grief pour out, but just as quickly as it had come, the noise was swept away by the hysterical cries of a girl sitting half way along Ravenclaw.

"Professor Flitwick!" the cries of the girl's friends went up into the air. Up at the top of the hall, several of the teachers leapt into action. Leshia and her friends craned their necks to see past their peers, who had all simultaneously started doing the same thing, to see if they could catch sight of the source of those horrific cries. Their vision was blocked by a swathe of black robes and an assortment of heads in every shade, but it wasn't long before everything became clear.

In the midst of it all suddenly Professor Lewis rose above the pupils, a flame-haired girl collapsed in his arms. At his side Professor Flitwick, Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfry pressed in close, helping to move the stunned pupils out of the way so they could rush out of the Great Hall. The doors closed gently in their wake leaving only the sound of a young pupil gently crying. Professor Sprout's head seemed to be bobbing up and down towards the end of Hufflepuff table and within moments she had stood to her feet, a small quivering first year boy clamped to her side. She guided him through the devastated faces of his peers to the grand entrance to the hall. They had nearly reached it when the little boy's feet gave in and he fell against his head of house. Instantly, several seventh-year young men materialised at the pair's side and with ease, they helped Professor Sprout carry the boy away.

A silence washed over the hall while stunned pupils turned to stare at each other.

"That was Mia Islington," Katie's whisper rang out along Gryffindor table as across the hall several other people turned to discuss what they had seen. "And her brother, Noah. She's in third year, she's really nice. We got talking the in the library once. They've got…" Katie's voice broke and fresh tears trickled down her face. "They've got two baby sisters and they come from…" Words failed her and she dropped her faced into her hands. At her side Rachel wrapped her arms around her cousin and buried her face in the silky softness of Katie's jet-black hair.

"Ahem."

It was only the slightest noise, but upon hearing it everyone's heads swivelled to the top of the hall where Albus Dumbledore had risen to his feet. He seemed pale, yet also a pillar of strength and warmth. At his sides the teachers were managing to compose themselves. Leshia couldn't help but let her eyes drift down the table to where her father sat looking paler than he had in a long time. Draco was watching the girl and upon catching his eye Leshia felt her nose tingling and the tears threatening to spill all over again. Her father seemed so sad. Clearly, he hadn't known about this news until the very same moment everyone else had found out.

"There are no words to describe the shock and pain I feel," Dumbledore addressed his stunned school. "But there is no need. I can see in your faces that you feel it also. Such a tragedy as this one will leave a mark on all of us, none more so than those poor souls who have lost loved ones." Everyone's thoughts flew to the agonised wail that Mia Islington had let out into the hall moments before she collapsed. "We live in dark uncertain times. For almost all of you, this will thankfully be the first time you have been exposed to the horrors Voldemort and his followers wreak on innocent men, women and children on their dark path to total domination."

At the mention of that name a collective schism of fear and tension rattled across the hall like a wave. Dumbledore noticed and he nodded his head gravely.

"I know," he sighed. "I know how that name makes us all feel. I know how we all dearly wish that name to be a part of our history we can finally put behind us, locked in the confines of the past where it can do us no harm. Alas, there is no power in wishing. We must stand together as we face the painful truth that Death Eaters are on the move once more, making their dark mark on our lives, preparing for the darkest of days yet again. We must accept that Voldemort will one day return." Despite the gravity of the moment, Dumbledore's eyes twinkled slightly as he gazed out at hundreds of disbelieving faces. These children had been told their whole lives that the dark lord was vanquished, gone, beaten for good. He had faced this attitude once before two decades ago.

"Now is not the time," he uttered gently. "Now is the time for mourning the victims of Merlin's Gate and for those who survive them. I am sure I speak for all of us when I say our thoughts are with the families that have been ripped apart by this tragedy. Today's lessons will be cancelled and I would like you to return to your dormitories when you are ready to do so. Heal one another, help one another. We are here for you should you need to talk about what you have read. If you are worried about loved ones please do not suffer alone, we can help you contact your families."

A ripple of grief trickled through the hall as pupils from nearby the area cast their minds to their families and friends back home.

"Allow me to repeat the words of a great poet," the venerable headmaster spoke over the gentle din. "Words that have many a time emboldened me when I have wavered in the face of death and tried to cope with the passing of those taken before their time."

"Do not go gentle into that good night,

Old age should burn and rave at close of day;

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,

Because their words had forked no lightning they

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright

Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,

Rage, rage against the dying of the light."

X

Leshia, Rachel and Katie sat side by side in the window box. They were getting too big for the small space for it to be a comfortable fit, but at this moment they felt they needed each other's reassurance, so they didn't mind being pressed painfully up against one another. The common room was uncharacteristically quiet. Most youngsters were up on their dormitories, speaking to family members over the floo network from Dumbledore's office or seeking consolation from their favoured teachers. The feeling of shock and horror had numbed to a gut-wrenching fear that had gripped the heart of Hogwarts. The Dark Rising was more powerful than any of them could have imagined.

"A hundred and seventy-three people."

Leshia looked up at Rachel's words to see her flame-haired friend merely shaking her head.

"Gone, just like that. They didn't even have time to fight them. Who kills people in their sleep huh? Who does that?"

Leshia sighed and reached out a hand to her friend. For a moment Rachel seemed too consumed by her anger to notice, before she seemed to relax and welcomed Leshia's show of support.

"Death Eaters, that's who," Leshia sighed gravely. "Cowards. The very worst of cowards."

"They're not going to get away with it," Katie growled at their side eliciting fervent nods from the other two.

"No, the Order of the Phoenix will see to that," Rachel agreed furiously. "Did you see the looks on some of the teachers faces? You could see they were ready to disapparate right then and there. Your dad Leesh, he looked scary. I can't wait till he finds them. I just can't wait."

Leshia felt a well of sickness build up in her stomach, which she fought away. The idea of Draco seeking revenge on his father and the Death Eaters that had caused this devastation was too frightening a thought. They were entering very dangerous and uncertain times.

"Hopefully he won't do so on his own," Katie spoke up softly, her gentle smile aimed at Leshia. Despite the gravity of the situation the blonde girl smiled and nodded.

"You're a mind reader Katie. No, I'm pretty sure even my dad wouldn't be reckless enough to go after them on his own. I bet he's with the Order now though, mum too and all your parents. I bet they're already well on their way to bringing these monsters to justice. Just you wait, they'll have a plan."

X

Dumbledore stared at the collection of grave faces in front of him, seeing his own pain reflected in their eyes. The kitchen at 12 Grimmauld Place hadn't seen the likes of so serious a meeting since the last war. Everyone had come. Indeed, they had already been there when Dumbledore and his fellow teachers in the order had arrived. There was little space to sit, but room had been made for Dumbledore, Snape, McGonagall, Draco and Hermione. Had the circumstances been less severe then this many members reuniting would have been cause for celebration.

"How did we not foresee this?" Dumbledore asked the group quietly. Several people shook their heads, feeling a share of Dumbledore's self-blame. "We should have known."

"We couldn't have known Albus," Harry spoke up from the other end of the table. "They arranged it so that only those closest to Lucius knew about it in advance. Our informants..." the raven-haired man broke off and hung his head. "They were compromised weeks ago. Maybe even months. They didn't stand a chance. Giselle Blackworth managed to get away, but she didn't manage to tell us anything before she died from her injuries. There was no way we could have known."

"But we should have known they would strike Merlin's Gate," Draco spoke up darkly. "The signs were there."

"It's easy to say so after the facts Draco, but it wasn't clear at the time," Hermione countered at his side. "We mustn't blame ourselves. This was not our fault."

"You are right of course," Dumbledore spoke loudly, pre-empting the wave of disagreement that was about to swarm over the tense group of witches and wizards. "We are not to blame. The question is though, what on earth are we going to do about it?"

Silence filled the subterranean kitchen and most people dropped their gaze downwards. They had been asking themselves this very question since finding out the news about Merlin's Gate as the copies of the Daily Prophet had dropped down in front of them. That an attack on such a scale could have been planned and executed without the Order, with it's wide-reaching informants and contacts, hearing even the smallest of forewarnings about it was a terrifying notion. Clearly Lucius had surpassed any of their wildest fears in gathering about him so substantial following that it was capable of an act so heinous it rivalled the darkest moments of Voldemort's first rise to power. Clearly, they were far less prepared than they had realised in combatting the rising darkness in their world.

Here gathered stood the most renowned, powerful and battle-hardy witches and wizards the country had to offer, yet they had been so utterly powerless to protect those one-hundred and seventy-three souls that had so needlessly lost their lives in their dreams. A wave of shame incapacitated even the most stone-hearted of the group and across the kitchen tears were gently pattering onto the slate tiles. They had failed.