'So, how did you find me?' asked Evanna, propped up on one elbow in the white hospital-wing bed. Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon and Dudley had all (some very reluctantly) left, leaving Evanna alone with Tracey, Daphne and Hermione. They were her three closest friends, after all (Dudley was very close, but still ... a cousin).

'Daph thought something was up when you didn't come back from the library,' Tracey said, edging closer to the bed. 'I said you'd probably taken a wrong turn, but you didn't show, so we told Professor Snape.'

'He didn't say anything, just rushed right past us,' Daphne said evenly. 'Turns out Quirrell was missing as well. I don't know why, but Snape went straight to the dungeon where you were ... as if he'd suspected something all along.'

Tracey didn't say anything. Her blue eyes were big and scared.

'Maybe he had,' Evanna said, pondering. 'You never can tell with Snape.'

'Cat, get some sleep,' Hermione ordered, then when the others stared at her, added hastily, 'All right, I know Professor Quirrell gave you the Draught of Living Death and you basically slept for three days straight, but Madam Pomfrey told me to make sure you didn't exert yourself.'

'Madam Pomfrey's always fussing,' said Daphne dismissively. 'Just don't worry about Quirrell, and you'll be fine.'

It was the wrong thing to say to Evanna, who instantly started thinking about Quirrell. Even after Madam Pomfrey shooed the others out, she couldn't get him out of her head. At least it distracted her mind from certain other worrying thoughts ...

Quirrell was dead.

That was one of the first things Dumbledore told her later, when he dropped in while she was alone. She didn't think she was supposed to be sorry. Quirrell had carried the broken soul of the man who murdered her parents; he'd indirectly caused her to have blinding headaches several times a week; he'd tampered with her memory, and on top of all that, he'd drugged her with a sleeping potion so strong that it took Madam Pomfrey three days to reverse its effects. All right, so that had mostly been Voldemort influencing Quirrell, but still.

Dumbledore put a great deal of stress on the notion that she hadn't really killed Quirrell - not that she thought she had, anyway. If she couldn't control her magic, then it wasn't really her, and it couldn't possibly be her fault. It was that simple. She was surprised that Dumbledore didn't seem to have realised that.

He did ask a lot of questions, though. And she found herself talking to him as naturally and freely as if she was talking to Dudley, who was probably the person she knew the best, and trusted the most, in the world. Dudley, the affectionate, blunt substitute big brother who would never do anything to hurt her.

And had there been any other times when her magic had got out of control? Dumbledore asked.

She told him - there was the incident with Peeves, and then the one just before Christmas with Dudley. Dumbledore looked intrigued, but merely said that if anything similar happened, she should let Professor Snape or him know.

'Sn- Professor Snape already knows,' said Evanna. 'Professor McGonagall took me to him that time just before Christmas, and ... he gave me double detention.'

Professor Dumbledore chuckled. Then he asked her if there was anything she wanted to ask him. There were so many things she was unsure about: whether or not Aunt Petunia would let her go back to Hogwart in September; the mysterious mirror that showed her family; the reason she could 'tame' the Whomping Willow ... But she decided on another, more pressing issue:

'I know Voldemort killed my parents because he was trying to kill me. But why would he want to kill me in the first place?'

Dumbledore sighed. 'Alas, the very first question you ask, I cannot give you the answer. I know you probably hate to hear this, Evanna ... but that is a story for when you are older. And now, if you can excuse my boldness ... may I ask why your friends Miss Davis, Miss Greengrass and Miss Granger and your cousin, Mr Dursley, all refer to you as "Cat"?'

Evanna looked up and saw that Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling.

But now she was lying awake, all alone, in the hospital wing, and feeling as thoroughly down as if it was Hallowe'en all over again. Feeling extremely sorry for herself, she decided to roll over and give way to selfish -

'Cat.'

Evanna jumped and spun around, towards the voice. A lantern hung in mid-air, suspended by a disembodied hand. A second later, Dudley pulled the Invisibility Cloak off and tossed it at her.

Evanna caught it instinctively, too surprised to say 'hello'. 'How'd you get it? It was in my trunk.'

'I asked Tracey,' Dudley said mildly, before scrutinising her. 'Cat, you look awful.'

'Well, considering I basically just woke up after being asleep for three days because my possessed Defence teacher drugged me with the Draught of Living Death, I think I'm looking positively dapper.'

Dudley grinned, but sobered when he caught sight of her face. 'No, really, you look terrible,' he said candidly. 'What's up?'

Tactless honesty was typical of Dudley, but Evanna was surprised that he had even noticed anything was off at all.

'I bet you anything Aunt Petunia's going to pull me out of Hogwarts,' she said glumly. 'You heard what she said earlier. She was like that at Hallowe'en - you were there; you remember.'

'She's just upset,' Dudley said bracingly. 'Give her some time. We'll work on her during the holidays. Besides, this wasn't as bad as Hallowe'en. This was five days; that was three. And it's not like you were ever going to die this time anyway. The Draught of Living Death doesn't kill. Snape said so.'

Evanna snorted. 'Since when do you pay attention in Potions?'

'I heard him talking to Madam Pomfrey while you were out. And for the record, he's talked about it in Potions before.'

'So ... you do listen in class? Never thought I'd see the day.'

'Oh, do shut up, Cat.'

Evanna ran her hands through the silvery Cloak on her lap absentmindedly, unable to keep from grinning. The exams were over - Slytherin had won the House Cup - there was no more Quirrell - no more headaches - no more Voldemort ...

Something sent her crashing down to earth with a jolt that could have shattered Aunt Petunia's favourite flowerpots.

She had a piece of Voldemort's soul inside her.

A part of the wizard who killed her parents inside her.

Maybe ... nah. She dismissed the thoughts firmly. She honestly didn't care about that now. Sure, it would crop up sometime, probably during a conversation with Dumbledore, but it could wait. Now -

A distant noise startled them both. Dudley picked up the lantern and held his hand out for the Invisibility Cloak, looking uneasy.

'Guess I'd better go,' he said in a low voice as he took the Cloak from her and put it around his shoulders, leaving just his head visible. 'And don't worry about Mum. She'll come round sooner or later. See you.' With that, he pulled the Cloak up over his head and the floating hand and lantern left, leaving Evanna alone in the dark hospital wing.

It was approaching evening by the time the Hogwarts Express finally pulled into platform nine-and-three-quarters of King's Cross Station. Evanna, Tracey, Daphne and Hermione collected their things (Seraphine purred contentedly from inside her basket) and joined the line of students leaving the train. Once they were off, blinking and slightly dazed at the noise and bustle of the station, Evanna started looking around for her aunt and uncle. Dudley, Ron and Neville were nowhere to be seen.

'Cat? Daph? Hermione?'

They turned. Tracey had left their small group and joined another that had a short man with glasses and a kindly smile, a woman taller than him (evidently his wife) with soft brown hair and dimples, a boy about eighteen or so and Tracey's cousin Vanessa.

'This is my Uncle Alastair, my Aunt Jillian and my cousin Jack,' Tracey said, gesturing to the man, the woman and the boy in turn. 'Vanessa you've met.'

She introduced them. Vanessa smiled and waved.

'Trace's told us all about you three,' Mr Summers said warmly to Evanna, Daphne and Hermione. 'Greetings, Daphne, lover of Every-Flavour Beans! Good day to you, Hermione, head of every class! And of course the famous Evanna Potter ...'

His eyes strayed inevitably to Evanna's forehead.

'Are you ready to go, dear?' Mrs Summers asked Tracey, who nodded. Hugs were exchanged, along with solemn vows and promises to write, before the Summers swept Tracey away.

'Er ... I need to go,' Daphne said quietly, glancing around. 'Au revoir, I'll write, catch up with you later and so on. Cheers.' She grabbed her trunk, dragged it onto a trolley and headed off before either of them could say goodbye to her properly.

People jostled Evanna and Hermione, passing around and behind them as they stood there, looking for Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon, in Evanna's case, or Hermione's parents, in Hermione's case. Evanna was about to suggest they get some trolleys to put their trunks on so that they didn't have to stay in one spot, when Hermione grabbed her arm.

'Cat! Hermione! Over here!'

Dudley was waving at them from near the platform wall. Also there were Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia and an unfamiliar Muggle couple, which turned out to be Hermione's parents. After a series of introductions, (apparently both Hermione's parents were dentists), the two groups turned to go their separate ways.

Evanna hesitated, then turned to Hermione. 'We need to meet up over the summer. I gave you my address; when I get a chance to use Iris we can arrange stuff. Go to the movies, do homework together ...'

Hermione nodded. When Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia and Dudley began going through the enchanted wall, Evanna lingered, looking behind. The last thing she saw was Hermione's hand raised in farewell before the crowds of people blocked her view and she found herself back in the Muggle world.

A/N: The sequel to this story is The First Horcrux.