Hi everyone! I'm back!


Well, it's been a long time, huh? I'm soooooooooooooooooo sorry! It's my fault. I'm a lazy person. But remember, I'm not an adult! I'm a teenager... with school... and reports... and tests... and exams...

I'm still very, very, very, very sorry.

Anyway - here it is!


Oh - Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, cause if I did, I wouldn't be living in a townhouse in Melbourne, at the bottom of the world, would I? I'd be bidding on Buckingham Palace.

CHAPTER SEVEN LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! I already said that, didn't I... whoops...

Lily felt herself to be in a dream as Harry announced his name, floating above the scene as though it were not her sitting down in that room. The only thing that awoke her was the tremendous crash when Sophie tumbled from the sofa arm. She was halfway out of her seat, when Sophie scrambled back to her feet, fast as lightening and James pulled Lily back down onto her seat.

Every face in the room was white with shock, except for the adults, Harry and Luna. Lily and Harry had identical expressions of apprehension, and when observed, it seemed almost like Harry no longer resembled his father, but his mother. It seemed odd to Natalia, who suddenly felt very separated from the group, that Lily and James' eldest son had inherited James's structure and general appearance, though it seemed emotionally, Harry was much like Lily.

Natalia grimaced at herself for becoming so philosophical. Her own mother had been a very intellectual woman and tried to imprint her personality on her children and in the end Natalia had sworn to herself that she would NEVER be a Ravenclaw or ever think deeply. Thus, she had ended up, to her Ravenclaw mother and Slytherin father's disappointment and horror, in Gryffindor, the house that never thinks. Her brother had ended up in Hufflepuff, a fact to which her father had despaired. Eventually he left her mother and married a witch by the name of Ingrid Pinkstone, the niece of a disowned member of the family who had campaigned to lift the Statute of Secrecy. Much to Natalia's father's relief, their daughters, Melissa and Erin had been sorted into Slytherin. Natalia knew Melissa, who was twenty-one and a nasty piece of work, was now a Death Eater. Erin, now approaching her twentieth birthday and a much friendlier girl, though she had immense ambitions, had vanished at the age of eighteen. Natalia strongly suspected her youngest half-sister had been taken by Melissa and blackmailed into joining the Death Eaters. Natalia felt suddenly very glad that she had never really seen Melissa grow up.

While Natalia succeeded in withdrawing from the scene unfolding in front of her; the rest of the room reacted, each in their own way. Sophie backed towards her eldest sister, Rose and squeezed into her chair. Rose hugged Sophie closely, her eyes glassy and her expression shocked as she gazed at Harry with an unseeing air, though it was perfectly clear she was seeing. Sophie began taking quick, short breaths through her nose and stiffening her limbs. Her jaw was shut firmly and she scrunched her eyes up as much as she could.

Nick's jaw dropped. He looked like he wanted to yell 'cool!' but one look from his mother shut him up before he had emitted a single sound. A moment later he was withdrawn.

Emily burst into tears. This seemed to awaken Andy from his own stunned daze. He stood up arrogantly, chin high in the air. When Lily sent him a warning look, he smirked at her.



"Petrificus Totalus!"

Luna cast the Silencing charm first, with Natalia following, awoken from her own daze, with a Body-Bind. Andy still held a look of utter fury and arrogance in his eyes, so Harry pointed his own wand at his younger brother.


The jet of red light hit Andy dead on. His eyes closed instantly.

"And before you ask," Harry added as half the room began turning towards him with stern looks. "Yes, it was necessary."


Eight-year-old Burilda Urquhart wriggled miserably in her position under the sofa in her family's drawing room. She clutched her baby brother, Jonah, to her as she sobbed as quietly as she could. Her five-year-old sister, Irena, was clutching her sleeve tightly, whilst her four-year-old brother, Corbin, was curled into a ball and clinging desperately to her. Above the sofa, Burilda's thirteen-year-old brother, Darien, and her mother were bearing the brunt of her father's fury.


"Yes, Theseus," Mariana Urquhart replied trembling.

Burilda sniffled, as did her younger siblings. Even as young as they were, Irena and Corbin knew to keep quiet if they didn't want vase thrown at them. Baby Jonah, who was on fifteen months old, also managed to sense the atmosphere and kept quiet too. She, Jonah, Darien, Corbin, Irena and there mother had all been in the living room when her father had stormed down the hall screaming in fury.

"Hide, Burilda!" Mariana said instantly, handing her Jonah.

Burilda had taken her brother and dived under the sofa as fast as she could, followed by her terrified little brother and sister. Darien had refused to hide, determined to stay with his mother.

Then Theseus had burst in and become violent, making Mariana burst into tears and Darien cuddle up to her, something he hadn't done for years. And it wasn't until Mariana inquired into his obvious injuries, that Theseus had revealed the events of the night before.

"AND WHERE WERE YOU, MARIANA?" Theseus ranted on, pointing first at his left arm, then at Mariana's. "WHY ARE YOU NOT IN THE DARK LORD'S SERVICE, HUH?"

Mariana began weeping freely, as Theseus hit her cheek. Burilda knew the story. Theseus had married Mariana, straight out of Hogwarts. She had been a Ravenclaw, but an ambitious one, which led to her becoming part of the Slytherin crowd. Theseus asked her to marry him around Christmas their last year at school and they married in August. But Theseus then discovered some things about his new wife. She came from a very, very poor family that could only just pay for her education. And what's more, they weren't even pureblood. Her father had been the offspring of a pureblood cousin of the Crouchs' and the child of a muggleborn and a half-blood and her mother was the daughter of a man, whose mother was a squib and whose father was the twin of a muggleborn, and a woman who was the daughter of a son of a half-blood and muggleborn, and a distant, half-blood, child of a disowned squib from the Black family. Mariana had boasted of her relation to the Crouch and Black families and because she was beautiful, every Slytherin wanted her. However, a clever and ambitious girl, she had only dated very, very wealthy students. Theseus, a cousin of a Yaxley, who had married a rich wizard, then killed him, and then died herself, was the sole heir to a massive fortune, and Mariana, of a poor background had instantly fallen in love with his money.

When Theseus discovered this, he was furious, but unable to get rid of her because he needed an heir, a legitimate heir, and divorce wasn't recognised in pureblood traditions. Only when one spouse died, could the other one remarry and produce legitimate heirs by the pureblood system.

So, he decided to try and change her background. The Dark Lord, whom he joined a week after his seventeenth birthday, promised to rewrite her life, if she helped him conquer the world. But she refused to take the Dark Mark. Thus Theseus, who was forced to protect her as she was pregnant with Darien, lost all his favour with the Dark Lord, and now blamed much of what happened in his life on Mariana's failure to erase her past and join Voldemort.

Burilda sniffled again. It would be a long night.


"An innocent child," Narcissa smiled. "Rodolphus – I have it!"

"Have what?" Rodolphus said grumpily, glaring as he examined every name in the British Wizarding Birth records. He was searching for a boy, probably with Gryffindor heritage, born between the years 1980-1985. Each possible name, he wrote down on a long piece of parchment.

"The way to talk to this person!"

"Indeed?" Rodolphus growled sarcastically.

"Yes, I do," Narcissa smiled. "A small child, preferably a girl. Make her around the ages of six to nine. Old enough to know what she will be doing and not to do something stupid, but young enough not to raise suspicion. She must be of Dark descent."

"Naturally," he raised an eyebrow at her snidely.

"Do be quiet, or at least bearable," Narcissa hissed.

"It would be my Dark delight, Lady Malfoy," Rodolphus sneered.

"Thank you," she cut him off before he uttered another word. "As I was saying, it must be a small girl, Dark. She should be the daughter of a junior enough Death Eater to not be recognised as well."

"That goes without saying,"

Narcissa glared at him. "Trustworthy too," she insisted.

"Of course," he replied.

"Yes, yes," she muttered. "Now, let's see. She must be lost. Yes. And one of us must be polyjuiced, perhaps as a younger brother or sister. Yes, that's good. You shall be her little brother. And I shall polyjuice myself as the mother, and find you. You will have to question him carefully – nothing suspicious. I myself shall track you carefully and find you. I shall talk to him, you or the girl must break a vase or clock or something to distract him. I will then quickly incarcerate him, and any others in the room and we shall return to our Lord, triumphant!"

"I do believe that you may be onto something there, Cissy," Rodolphus said carefully. "Now all we need is the girl who has a brother. She shall know nothing of the plot so if he Legilimens' her, as he is sure to do, he won't uncover out plot."

"We have it!"

"But who shall the girl be? She must truly have a younger brother and a mother still alive to be fooled into doing this."

"Yes…" Rodolphus said. "I know who to ask," he added quietly.


"Do you remember that lower-ranked man boasting to some of the others that he had three sons, where as many people only have one?"

"I think I might…"

"And Myers shut him up, adding that he also had two small daughters, aged eight and five?"

"Was it about two weeks ago?"

"I believe so,"

"Yes, I remember," Narcissa said. "His name was Urquhart. Theseus Urquhart, that's it."

"Floo him,"

"Indeed I shall,"

Narcissa marched over to the fireplace, delicately shaking a handful of Floo powder into the fire.

"THESEUS URQUHART!" she thundered.

A man's angry face appeared.

"What?" he asked irritably.

Narcissa and Rodolphus gazed at him coolly, an eyebrow raised each. The man began to splutter.

"Mrs Malfoy! Mr Lestrange!" he choked. "An honour it is! Such an honour!" his head made rapid bowing motions.

"Come through, Urquhart," Rodolphus said to him calmly. "We do not wish to be overheard."

Urquhart began to look afraid. He stumbled through and emerged in the library where Narcissa and Rodolphus were working. He stood before them, trembling like a first-year waiting to be sorted.

"Do you seek the Dark Lord's favour, Urquhart?" Narcissa asked him, her eyes taking him in with disgust.

"Yes!" Urquhart replied, a little too fast and a little too loudly.

"Do you have an eight-year-old daughter?" Narcissa smirked.


"Is that her name?" Rodolphus inquired, almost amiably.

"Yes, Burilda is my eldest daughter. She is eight-years-old," Urquhart nodded fervently.

"That is good," Narcissa smiled, revealing perfect, white teeth. "And tell me, Urquhart; have you a son under the age of five?"

"Yes, milady, I have two," Urquhart answered. "Corbin is the elder, at four. Jonas is my youngest. He's one.

"Ah, very good," Narcissa nodded at him.

"I also have a thirteen-year-old son, Darien, and a five-year-old daughter, Irena," Urquhart added. "They –"

"We did not inquire as to your other offspring, Urquhart," Rodolphus cut him of swiftly. "I care nothing for them."

"Nor, I should think, do we care for Jonas," Narcissa added, sneering at Urquhart's stunned expression. "Too young, do you not agree, Rodolphus?"

"Indeed," Rodolphus snapped. "I care even less for nappies."

She laughed coldly.

"Urquhart, have you a wife?" she asked suddenly.

"Yes'm," he answered. "But I'm afraid she is not one of us."

"Excuse me?"

"She has not joined the Dark Lord's forces,"

"I see," Narcissa turned to Rodolphus. "Well?" she demanded.

"That is no bad thing, so far as I can see," he replied demurely.

"I beg your pardon!"

"This man – this boy, he will, in all probability, be able to tell if somebody has the Dark Mark,"

"A glamour charm?"

"He'll sense it, I'm sure,"

"Muggle make-up?"

"One – I could NEVER allow you to stoop so low, and two, the Dark Mark may well be picked up from under the make-up."


"He must be able to trust us!"

"I'm sure he will, but…"

"Why are we even talking about this, as the woman has no Dark Mark we need to worry about?"

"Maybe mine will show up even with the Polyjuice!"

"I doubt it,"

"But do you know?"

"No, I don't!"

"Then how can we be safe?"

"Like I said –"

"You doubt it, I know,"

"Yes, now be sensible,"

"Your Dark Mark may show up too!"

"And you think he'll check someone that age?"


"Honestly, Narcissa,"

"Well, I still don't know…"

"We will be fine!"

"Of course, Rodolphus,"

"Good to see you being sensible,"

"Sensible, my –"


"Alright, alright!"

"Thank you,"

"But you do realise, if the Mark shows up, we will be absolutely done for! With a man like that…"

"Madam?" Urquhart asked tentatively.

"What?" she snarled.

"May I ask as to –"

"No, you –"

"Yes, you may," Rodolphus cut her off.

Narcissa growled.

"The Dark Lord has given us a mission," he continued, ignoring her. "I shall provide no details. They are unnecessary."

"Yes, sir,"

"Ensure you send some hair from your wife and son – Corbin – and bring the girl. Are we clear on this?"


"Excellent," Narcissa hissed.

"Bring the hair and your daughter to us before dawn tomorrow," Rodolphus continued. "I trust you will not be late."

"No, sir," Urquhart said, looking excited. "Never!"

"Very good," Narcissa smirked.

"You understand that we cannot guarantee when your daughter will be returned to you?"


"Wonderful," Rodolphus sneered.

"Oh, the Dark Lord shall reward her and you well for this service!" Narcissa exclaimed joyously.

Urquhart looked ready to dance for pleasure.

"Remember, the girl and the hair," Rodolphus said calmly.

"At the Malfoy Manor before dawn tomorrow," Narcissa added sweetly. "I will enjoy this very much."

Urquhart nodded, and disappeared through the Floo again.

"One question, m'dear," Rodolphus said suddenly.


"How do we find him?"

"Wait until he uses the Floo, of course!"

"I beg your pardon?"

"The Floo!"

"The Floo?"


"I don't understand,"

"You wouldn't, would you?"

"I still await an explanation,"

"Do you?"


"Very well," Narcissa rolled her eyes.

"Do not do that!" Rodolphus snapped.

"Why ever not?"

"It is not befitting a Malfoy or a Black,"

"Of course not," she sneered.


"Well what?"

"How do we find him?"

"We place a tracking spell –"

"On the Floo Network?"


"How do you plan to do that?"

"Oh, really!"


"My dear brother-in-law, this is sixth year magic!"

"Not the spell!"

"What then?"

"The magical signature you'll need to cast it!"



"Yes, oh," Narcissa snapped.

"Is 'oh' good or bad,"

"It's neither,"

"Excuse me?"

"It's just 'oh',"

"Oh, really?"

"OH, shut UP!"


She glared at him.

"No need for a glare," he said smirking. "Well?"

"I duelled him,"

"Did you?"


"I don't see how this helps,"

"He hit me with a spell,"

"And you plan on withdrawing the magical signature –"

"From that,"

"Very well,"

"It shouldn't be too difficult…"



"It will take three hours, at least!"

"Then we'd best get started, hadn't we?"


"That does not befit a Lestrange, dear Rodolphus,"

"No, of course not," he glared.

"Let's begin,"



Burilda woke with a start. Her father stood in the doorway, glaring at her.


"Get up,"



Burilda scrambled from her bed.

"Pack for about a month, and come down to the drawing room in half an hour," he left the room.

Half an hour later, Burilda stood in the drawing room, three bags under her arms, watching the pink on the far horizon. Theseus was nowhere to be seen.


She started.

"Get some Floo!" he snapped. "Take these!" he shoved two jars into her hands. One was marked 'M' the other 'C'.

Burilda took the Floo, struggling with her bags and the jars.

"Say 'Malfoy Manor',"

"Malfoy Manor!"


Burilda spun out of her family home.



Narcissa watched disdainfully, as a small girl with brown hair and bright blue eyes came flying out of the fire.

"Urquhart?" she snapped.

The girl scrambled to her feet.

"IS YOUR NAME URQUHART?" Narcissa screeched, tired and annoyed.

"Yes, ma'am,"


Rodolphus stormed into the room. "Ah, she's here," he said.

"Yes," Narcissa nodded. "Now all we need is some of that polyjuice potion from Snape…"

"Stupid woman!" Rodolphus snapped.

"I beg –"

"Snape is dead!"

"He –"

"You know this!"


"He was killed!"


"His own curse,"

"That's suicide!"

"No, that person stopped the curse from hitting him, and turned it around! Snape was killed!"

"That's impossible!"

"I know!"


"We've been through this before!"

"Have we?"


"I –"

"Oh, just shut up!"

"Excuse me!"

"You are incredibly stupid for a woman of your standing!"

"Rod –"


The little girl whimpered.

"Oh, you shut up too!" Rodolphus shouted.

"Yes, sir,"



"Do you understand what shut up MEANS?"


"No, you obviously don't!"


"Now give me the hair your father gave you!"



"But I don't have any hair…"

"He gave you nothing?"

"No hair…"


"He may have put it in her bags," Narcissa said consolingly.

"I packed my bags," the girl said quickly.

"He put nothing IN THEM!"



"He did give me two jars…"

"Give them to me!" Rodolphus screamed.

She handed them over shakily.

"THIS IS HAIR!" Rodolphus said, opening the jars. "YOU STUPID, STUPID LITTLE GIRL!"

She burst into tears.


"Rodolphus, just get some Polyjuice from Snape's stores!"


"He's dead, I know!"


"But his stores don't just vanish because he dies do they?"

"I –"

"Just go and get some!"



Over the next week, Harry kept himself to himself, living inside his new, very large, room in the Potter Manor, eating in the kitchens, and generally keeping himself to himself.

Luna did pretty much the same, though she worked to establish connections in the Potter family, unlike Harry, who only seemed interested in Sirius. Sirius, in turn, after welcoming Harry so warmly, and being incredibly friendly, had returning to mid-war mode and made little effort to get to know Harry or even be very friendly. He was very cautious.

Lily and James were kind to him still, but found it hard. The initial joy of having their son back had quickly fled, when they realised Harry and their little boy were very different people.

Harry's three sisters seemed more than happy to know him, and Harry did slowly begin to show some affection for them.

Andy always made it plain he hated Harry and wanted nothing to do with him, especially after Harry humiliated him in front of the entire of the Potter and Black families.

Nick was amiable. He made no effort to be Harry's friend, but in the same way, made no effort to be unkind or avoid him. It was clear to Harry and Luna that Nick was slightly in awe of Harry, but didn't want that to be noticed by anyone.

Dory and Chaz had had no contact whatsoever. Sirius, who was still apprehensive about Harry and been careful to keep his children away from 'that freaky dueller guy'. Natalia never objected, but she made an effort to be kind.

She was probably the only one.


Burilda had been at this strange, mean place for nearly three weeks. She had been kept near the fireplace, under the constant watch of two people, who had set up strange tracking spells on the Floo Network.

They had left her alone, feeding her when she needed it, providing her with a cot when she wanted to sleep, but other than that, she had had nothing. It was her worst nightmares come true.

At one point her little brother, Corbin, and her mother had appeared, but after an hour, they went away. They had ignored her, like she wasn't even there focusing on their left forearms.

"Can I go to bed?" she asked quietly.

The woman snapped around to look at her.

"Yes, go," she replied irritably, conjuring a cot.

"Sleep tight, Dark Angel," the man sneered.

Burilda whimpered and climbed into bed fearfully.

"He's never going to use the Floo," the woman's voice whispered, about ten minutes later.

"He will, don't worry," the man answered.

It was to the whispered arguments that Burilda finally slipped off into sleep.


Harry knew he was slowly going mad. He had cut off the rest of the world except for Asa, Hedwig and Sakima. Luna was consistently trying to communicate with him. Harry had ignored her entirely. He had stopped talking to his family and the Blacks completely. He had even refused to have anything to do with Dobby or Kreacher, after telling them to act as normal Potter house elves.

Needless to say, neither of them had been very happy about that.

Harry knew he was in a withdrawal period. He needed Ginny and Mrs Weasley. He needed Ron and Hermione. The war was over in his world. Now Harry was feeling the true weight of everyone who had died.

He also had no idea what to do with himself. Sure he could get involved in the war here, but in all honesty, he didn't want to. He had been a warrior. He had served his purpose. He wanted to move on with his life. Get married, have a family and just be happy!

It wasn't to be.

Harry got up suddenly. He needed to get out. He needed to go home.

"Asa!" he called.

The imperial bird gazed at him questioningly.

"Take me home," he pleaded.

Her eyes showed shock and sorrow.


Asa turned her back on him.

"No, no, no, no, NO!" Harry screamed. "Asa, don't you understand? I can't stay here! I have to go home!"

The bird looked over her shoulder.

"Please, Asa," he begged.

With what seemed to be a sigh, she flew over to him and landed on his shoulder. Harry felt relief flood through his veins. With a wave of his wand, he gathered all his belongings and made sure he was touching everything.

With a flash, Harry James Potter was gone from that world for good.

And somewhere across the manor, Luna Lovegood suddenly knew that she was all alone.



A/N: I'm not that mean…

"No, no, no, no, NO!" Harry screamed. "Asa, don't you understand? I can't stay here! I have to go home!"

She kept her back to him.

"Please, Asa!"

No response.

Harry was incensed. Asa, sensing danger, vanished in a ball of fire. It only served to infuriate him further. The bedside lamp was flung across the room. It was shortly followed by all the china in the room.

After a good ten minutes, he stormed across the room and threw open the door. He took no notice of the stares he earned as he marched towards the family Floo connection. He grabbed a fistful.

"The Three Broomsticks!" he shouted.






Emily jumped at each noise. She was in her little hidey-hole, an old schoolroom where her father had been educated before Hogwarts. It was poorly kept, as her father had despised his teacher, an old squib who had gotten a muggle university degree and permanently resented every single witch and wizard because they had been magical and she wasn't.


Emily couldn't imagine what the noise was. The only other person who ever came to this part of the manor was Harry…

Emily jumped up and ran to the door. Harry stomped past just as she did. Surprised, she followed him.

He disappeared through the Floo to the Three Broomsticks. Curiously, she followed. When she arrived at the other end, she saw him purchasing several bottles of firewhisky. She queued up behind him and bought a butterbeer before retreating to a corner table to watch him.

It didn't look like he was doing much except drinking. After the fifth bottle Emily had to admit he could hold his alcohol well. Very well. He didn't even look the slightest bit tipsy. It wasn't until he was halfway through bottle number nine that he wobbled a little. He downed the tenth in only two gulps.

It was then Emily realised that Harry, the big, strong, Voldemort-Vanquishing Harry, was crying. She didn't dare approach him. He jumped up to buy another round of firewhiskey. Emily followed, deciding to buy another butterbeer as well. She had finished her first a while before.

Madam Rosmerta glared at Harry as he asked for another ten firewhiskeys.

"Not for you," she said. "You look like you've already had at least four!"

Harry snorted.

Emily giggled.

"Two then," Harry begged.

"Two firewhiskeys coming up," Rosmerta banged them on the counter. "And not a drop more, mind you!" she waggled her finger.

"Can I have another butterbeer, please?" Emily asked quietly.

"Yes, of course, dear," Rosmerta smiled. "But be gone before, love, or you'll be caught up with the night crowd. I doubt your mother and father will be happy about that!"

"Yes, Madam Rosmerta," she took her butterbeer and hurried back to her table, where Harry was gulping down the last of his first firewhiskey.

Emily listened as he began muttering to himself.

'Damn Asa, damn everyone!" he growled. "Nobody left to talk to… Nobody who cares. Everyone gone. All of them. What can I do?"

Emily choked on her butterbeer. Did Harry really feel so abandoned? Well, he couldn't blame her family… could he? After all, they had all basically dropped him after the honeymoon period with him.

By now Harry was nearly finished his last butterbeer.

"I need to talk to Ginny. I need Ginny. I need someone…" he mumbled.

Emily started.

He jumped to his feet and ran to the fireplace, Emily hot on his heels.

"The Burrow!" he cried.

Emily followed suit.

She came flying through the connection, but no sooner had she crashed onto the Burrow's kitchen floor than another girl came tumbling out on top of her, holding a little boy's hand.


"I'VE PICKED HIM UP!" Narcissa screamed in joy.

"Where is he going?" Rodolphus yelled, reaching for some polyjuice potion. "Quickly now!"

"Oh, no…"


"He's gone to the Three Broomsticks!"


"That place will be far too crowded!"


"I know," Narcissa sighed.

"Now what?"

"We have to wait for him to come back through the Floo,"

By now Burilda had woken. She knew it couldn't be very long since she'd gone to bed as the sun had barely set.

"Excuse me…" she began.

Rodolphus turned to here. "Obliviate! Stupefy!"

Narcissa looked at him in surprise.

"We can wake her when he comes back and she won't remember us until she sees us again. By the time she awakens, you and I will both be in our disguises," he answered the unasked question.


Twenty minutes later the alarms went off again.

"The Burrow!" Narcissa called.

As one, she and Rodolphus swallowed their potions. Ten seconds later, Narcissa awoke Burilda, disguised as her mother.

"Mummy?" Burilda said in surprise.

"Yes, dear," Narcissa said, smiling. "You silly girl, you fell asleep! Come now, do you want to go shopping or not?"


"You take Corbin, alright?"


Narcissa put the powder in. "The Burrow," she said clearly, but too quietly for Burilda or Rodolphus to hear. "Off you go," she said. "I'll be along shortly!"

Burilda stepped in.

"Bye!" Narcissa smiled.


Cliffies are an authors best friend.

Apologies if it isn't the best I've done. A lot of the bad guys, I know. And a Mary-Sue family! I will strive to make them as un-Mary-Sue-ish as I can.