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  #41  
Old September 4th, 2004, 9:44 pm
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Chapter Thirty-One, Part One

Eliza spent her evenings for the next fortnight in the staff room. She spent some time correcting papers, and some on planning lessons, but when she was done with that, there was a lot of talking and discussing on various subjects, ranging from news to Quidditch.

One night Eliza came back, thinking. Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore had been summoned to the ministry. None of the staff knew exactly why, but there had been much speculation on the topic. All Eliza knew was that she had had a rather bad headache and a sore stomach. What ever it was, Eliza was rather anxious about it.

Wandering in, she blearily thought something was different about her room. Mischief wound around her ankles, purring, before leaping up into her arms. Then she noticed. There was a note on her bed, and a rose on top of that. For a minute she eyed eyed them warily before carefully picking the rose and note up. She unfolded the note and read:

Lize,

I’ve made arrangements that this has made it to you safely. I’m hoping you can remember a conversation we had fifteen years ago to this date. I’m unable to forget. I remember we made a promise, that when the conditions have become right, we’ll marry. I’m still holding to that promise, and I hope that you are. If you wish to be released from it, please return the note. I hope you are well, and I beg for you to stay safe.


It was unsigned

Eliza stared at the note before falling back on her bed, laughing. Mischief leapt off immediately and stared at Eliza in reproach. Yes, she could remember. How could she forget? The memory rose through her as she sat up.

She looked back at the note. “The conditions,” he’d written. Eliza smiled. When Voldemort was dead was when they’d planned. That’s what they had planned before James sent her away. Then was when they’d promised.

She grinned, leaning against her pillows. They’d never told anyone when they had courted, but Lily and Alice had figured out, and told their husbands of their suspicions they in turn mentioned it to Sirius. The memory of James’s face when he had found out was hilarious.

She smiled, staring out the window to the full moon, with the rose in her hands. Slowly, she fell asleep.


Then next morning, Tuesday, Eliza passed the open doors into the Great Hall. The rumble of students talking filled her ears. Some were enjoying a carefree breakfast, while some seemed feverish about homework. A select few were pouring over the daily prophet. Passing the Gryffindor Table, Eliza noted that Harry was pale, and Hermione, Ginny, and Ron were exchanging worried looks.

The staff table was filled with professors looking over the paper as usual, but their faces ranged from grave to mildly interested. Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall were in a serious conversation. Neither of them noticed her passing them to her spot between Sinistra and Snape.

Eliza poured herself a cup of orange juice as soon as she sat down.

“Have you heard?” asked Sinistra, indicating her paper.

“What about?” Eliza asked, serving herself some porridge.

“This,” she said, pushing it to her.

Eliza took a drink, took one look at the paper and choked, knocking over her glass.

“Scourgify!” Sinistra said, quickly, cleaning up the orange liquid as Snape pounded her on the back.

In big, bold letters, write on the front page it read: “Accused Death Eater, Elizabeth Potter, Found Dead.”

The rather alive subject of the article scanned it quickly, “Body confirmed by Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall as Potter’s,” and “no sign of the victim’s killer,” were a few of the lines stated. Paling, Eliza stood up quickly and hurried over to Dumbledore and McGonagall.

“Is this true?” she asked, “Did you really confirm the body?”

Albus and Minerva exchanged looks, “Yes,” Dumbledore said finally, “We didn’t have a choice. We’ll discuss this tonight in my office. Be there tonight after dinner.”

Eliza shakily taught the rest of her classes that day. The younger classes, all but the first years, who working on extremely simple creatures, were working on Boggarts.

It was rather interesting, especially when the Boggart burst out of the desk drawer in the middle of her fifth year Gryffindor class, and then again in her first year Hufflepuff class. The fifth years had easily got it back into the drawer, but with many grins. When it broke out again, this was more chaotic, and there were several shocked students afterword.

After she prodded a howling werewolf into the drawer as a boy stared at it, transfixed and terrified, where it peacefully turned into a headless corpse, Eliza informed the now pale class that that was a Boggart and ordered them to read about them in their books.

A/N: I'd like to note that there will not be an update coming this week, and that there may be weeks where updates don't arrive. I'm terribly sorry, but my schedule is packed to the point that I might not be able to have time to write, let alone be able to get on the computer to post an update.


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  #42  
Old December 7th, 2004, 11:25 pm
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I am very sorry for the horribly long wait. I promise this won't happen again, at least for a long time. I have part of the next update done, so I'm praying that the next update will be up soon!


Chapter Thirty One, Part Two

Eliza knocked lightly on the door, looking around the tower tiredly, taking in the moving spiral stair case.

She was tired after spending the day as a bundle of nerves. She was too tired to really even think straight, but if she had had any chance to sleep, she wouldn’t have been able to stay still long enough to sleep.

The door swung open, revealing a small group of people.

Eliza nodded and made eye contact with most of them. There was McGonagall, Dumbledore, Remus, Tonks, Mad-eye, John, and Jacob. In the corner sat Snape.

Joan beckoned her over, and Eliza took her seat between Remus and Joan. Remus gave her a shadow of a smile, and Joan gave a shaky grin. Jacob prodded her lightly, and John nodded, his face serious.

Dumbledore brought everyone to silence when he stopped writing on a scroll of parchment and set down his quill, looking up.

“Thank you for coming,” he said, quietly.

He looks tired himself, Eliza noted mentally, rather old, actually.

“You all should know what this meeting is about. I believe you all have read the paper today, and if not the whole paper, at least the front page,” a general murmur of assent passed through the office, “The paper has reported the death of Elizabeth Potter. As we all know, this isn’t true. However, we know that an explanation for this is needed. Minerva and I were called by the Ministry shortly after dinner. After taking several precautions, we arrived at the ministry. What we found was this: a dead body had been reported, and the ministry had an idea as to who the body belonged to, but they needed someone to confirm. Apparently, they chose us. It was the mirror image of Miss Potter with several flaws, but accurate enough to have fooled me if I hadn’t seen her so recently, knowing exactly what she looked like now.

“I suspected something about the body, and so made several conclusions that I had to act upon. I confirmed the body as Elizabeth’s and left.”

He paused, looking around the group.

“Your conclusions sir?” someone asked quietly.

“I suspect that by Voldemort or his orders, this body was planted. He has reasons for him to wish for people to believe her dead. It could also serve as a double-edged sword for if I denied that being her body, getting the Ministry’s attention and a rather uncomfortable circumstance. For now, we don’t have much of a choice than to play along.” His face was serious.

“But, why would Voldemort want people to think she’s dead? I mean, why?” Jacob asked in confusion.

Dumbledore watched Jacob for a moment, a puzzling frown on his face, “I have only my ideas, and nothing more,” he said after a moment.

“Would it be so that people weren’t on as much of a look out for her anymore?” Joan asked slowly, “ I mean, if people are watching for her, wouldn’t it make it more difficult for him to actually get a hold of her?”

Dumbledore just nodded slowly, his face still dark, “Something to that point, I think. If anyone doesn’t have anymore questions, then we should dismiss. Will Severus stay for a bit?”

Mostly everyone stood up. Everyone was puzzled, by the looks on their faces, and slightly surprised at the shortness of the meeting. Eliza noted as Joan stood that McGonagall hadn’t moved a bit.

Remus exchanged looks with her. The pair of them stood. Eliza hugged Joan goodbye and Remus gave his goodbye as well.

“You’re staying?”Joan breathed, asking Remus.

“For a bit,” he answered, equally as quietly.

People left the room, through the fireplace, mainly. Snape, Remus, Liza, Dumbledore and McGonagall remained.

“I received the body from the ministry,” Dumbledore said quietly to his companions, “I asked for it so that I could give it a ‘proper burial’.”

“Is it really a body?” asked Eliza, “I mean, is it someone else?”

Dumbledore nodded, “Yes. Severus, I need you to find out who that person was. Their family should receive the body. It would only be proper.”

Snape nodded.

“Thank you, Severus. You may go.”

He nodded once more, cast a look around the group, and swished out of the office.

Dumbledore watched him go before turning to the three left in his office. There was silence as he regarded them carefully.

Minerva was the first to break the silence, “Albus,” she started.

Dumbledore’s eyes slid from regarding Remus, sitting in his chair with a hand on the arm of the chair, to Minerva, sitting straight in her chair with a solemn expression, “Yes, Minerva?”

“What are your ideas? Why did Voldemort stage Elizabeth’s death? Surely, Albus...”

Dumbledore sighed, as he lowered a hand from his chin, where his head was currently resting, “He’ll have his reasons. One of my ideas is that Elizabeth can not properly teach Harry unless she uses methods that have been passed through the family for centuries, or at least, she can only teach him the basics, correct, Eliza?”

Eliza met his eyes, “That’s true, sir. I can’t teach him anything very advanced with the methods we’ve used, without him finding out we’re related. It’s simply not possible.”

“And Harry and his friends should not come to the conclusion of this while they think you’re dead, I dare say,” Dumbledore said quietly, “That would make them more suspicious than anything to find out they had a teacher who supposedly died. They’ve had enough from Pettigrew with that to not be suspicious.”

“He’s probably also thinking that if the Ministry and the rest of the Wizarding World are no longer on the look out, Eliza won’t be so careful,” Remus said softly.

Eliza exchanged looks with him, “Of course, that’s not the case. This would make me more alert than anything.”

Dumbledore nodded, “It’s more likely more than one reason than just one.”

Silence came over the room, with the exception of the soft sounds of the portraits snuffling and the soft clicks of the whirling objects on the tables.

“What shall I do then?” Eliza asked, breaking the silence.

“Teach,” Dumbledore answered, “teach, and when Harry finds out, deal with that the way you think you should. If that causes to much of a problem, come to me with it. In the mean time, teach and be careful. Minerva, keep an eye on her, would you?”

Both women nodded.

“That should be all.”

Remus stood, shook hands with Dumbledore, nodded to Minerva, and whispered as Eliza gave him a quick hug, “Be careful, and don’t torment Harry to much.”

Eliza nodded, smiled at him, nodded to Professor Dumbledore, and allowed Minerva to lead her out of the room.


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Old December 22nd, 2004, 3:18 pm
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Chapter Thirty-Two

Eliza didn’t sleep well that night. She had gone to bed at about ten, but a half hour after midnight she gave up on normal sleep. She lay in her bed, her eyes wide open, her mind turning. Coming across a memory she gave a slight sigh, pulled if forward for a dream, closed her eyes, and watched.

The room was dim. It was the sitting room of a nice house. In an armchair closest to the fire sat a young woman with red hair and bright green eyes, holding a small baby in her arms. On her face she wore a weary expression as she watched her husband.

Her husband had dark untidy hair and hazel eyes hid behind a rather battered pair of eyeglasses. Beside him, sitting on the arm of his armchair was a woman who seemed to be the female version of him. Black hair struggled from her braid that hung down her back. She wore a worn cloak hung over her shoulders, and her glasses were perhaps even more battered than her brother’s. With her worn cloak and her weathered boots, she held a great contrast between the well furnished and the warm fire.

Laying before the fire was a handsome young man with black hair falling before his eyes and a quick grin not quite yet faded. His clothes were nice, but wrinkled, and not all together grand.

In an armchair in a corner sat another young man with a pointed face and liquid eyes. His mousy brown hair was rather unkept, and he fidgeted with a lose thread on his robes.

“So Dumbledore thinks someone’s betraying us, Liza?” asked Lily, the woman with the baby.

“Yes,” answered her sister- in-law tiredly, “I just finished talking to him. He said it’s probably someone close to us... or just to you. Somebody to keep tabs on us....somebody,” she yawned and pulled the cloak tightly around her.

“But who?” demanded Eliza’s brother, James.

Liza placed a hand on her brother’s shoulder tiredly, “That’s the question, isn’t it?”

“Remus...” came the quiet input.

The dark haired woman sat up, “What? Remus? You’re kidding right?”

“Remus!” Sirius, the man on the rug snapped, “Who else?” he paused as the woman stiffened. His voice grew gentler, “Listen, Lizzie, who else? He’s the one who we haven’t seen all week! He’s the one who’s been avoiding us lately! He’s the one that won’t answer when we ask him about where he’s going! Beth, please.”

“Sirius, what do you expect? Remus has been working all week, unlike some people I could name! And how has he been ‘avoiding you’ as you so put it?”

“He’s been quieter than usual!”

“Full moon’s in a couple days,” the woman by the fire put in quietly.

“See?”

“Women... always sticking together, I tell you,” Sirius said comfortably.

“At least we don’t attack each other,” Lily pointed out.

“Beth attacks anyone who looks at her crooked,” he cheerfully replied.

“So would you, what with all her auror and Order work.”

“It’s made her paranoid... next thing you know she’ll be sniffing her food and carrying around her own drink,” James joined in.

Eliza aimed a punch at her brother.

“If she’s so paranoid, why isn’t she worried about what Remus is up to?”

Eliza’s grin faded.

“Padfoot,” James said, quietly.

“What? She acts as if we’re crazy to suggest that her beloved Moony is a Death Eater!”

There was a stretch of silence, broken only by the crackling of the fire.

Eliza stood up. She stared down Sirius. When he looked away, she shook her head and allowed the hem of her cloak to fall to the ground as she strode out of the room. The door creaked open then shut with a bang.

“What’s her problem?” Sirius asked cheerfully.

“Sirius,” Lily answered quietly, “ She would have acted the same way if it had been Remus suggesting you were the Death Eater, or someone calling James, Joan, Alice, or Frank Death Eaters.”

“But not me,” came a reply from the corner.

Everyone glanced over at Peter, who was staring at the wall over the fireplace.

“Wormtail, you know she’s always been weird about you,” James pointed out.

Sirius nodded, curling himself up in a rather dog like way.


Eliza walked from her position beside the door that she had just slammed, she walked down the small passageway, away from the sitting room, and apparated.

It was early January, and the snow swirled around her. Liza pulled her hood over her head and looked around. She was just out side of a pub with the sign, “The Leaky Cauldron.”

She slid her way to the bar and said to Tom, “A hot chocolate and some shepherd’s pie, please.”

The man with his missing teeth gave her the amount due, and she dropped coins into his awaiting palm. She looked around in effort to find a table. There was one, in the corner, where one red haired woman with an icy expression sat, wary.

“Hello, Joan,” she said quietly as she sat down across from her.

“Greetings, Liza,” Joan answered, glancing over at her.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, puzzled.

“Post,” her lips barely moved, and the answer was so quiet, Eliza had trouble making it out.

“I see,” Eliza stirred her cocoa.

“What about you? What are you doing, I mean?”

“I got a bit... mad at Sirius and stormed out. Now I have to buy my dinner.”

“Do you have any jokes on hand? Tricks? Firecrackers?”

Liza looked up, startled, “Of course, why?”

“You may need them. There’s supposed to be some unwanted company here in a bit.”

Eliza groaned quietly. She stuffed a large forkful of the pie into her mouth before feeling her pockets. Ink pellets, a few Dr. Filibuster Firecrackers, Dungbombs, Stink pellets, and a comb. The comb wouldn’t be much help...

She ate quickly, checking to make sure she knew what was in what pocket and where her wand was.

Joan checked her watch, “Three,” she said quietly, “Two... One.”

The door burst open, seven figures in hoods came in.

Joan’s wand slipped out, and Eliza’s was drawn from the inside of her left sleeve.

For several moments there was nothing, but then all of the sudden, flashes of light lit up the room, and people screamed. Woman herded their children towards the back of the pub, toward Diagon Alley.

“Stupefy!” Eliza launched into the chaos.

“Expelliarmus!” She heard Joan shout behind her.

A couple Death Eaters turn their attentions from the scattering wizards, a few falling dead as they ran, with the Killing Curse striking them between their shoulder blades.

“Crucio!” a man’s deep voice shouted pointing his wand at Eliza.

Eliza dropped to the floor, rolling beneath a table.

“STUPEFY! STUPEFY! STUPEFY!” Eliza shouted, narrowly missing the man’s legs.

“Reducto!” came the sharp reply as the table above Eliza blew to pieces. Eliza slipped out, narrowly missing a huge chuck flying to her head. She shoved a chair at the man, and lit a firecracker that she threw at him, hitting him square in the face. He stumbled back and Eliza shouted, “STUPEFY!”

The man stumbled back and fell to the ground. She sent robes his way that bound him tightly to the chair that he landed on.

“Expelliarmus!” came a woman’s voice behind her.

Eliza’s wand flew from her hand, and there was an awful moment where she spun to face the female Death Eater. Her heart thudding, Eliza pulled out a hand full of Ink Pellets and a Dungbomb.

The woman screamed, rubbing ink out of her eyes as she dropped Eliza’s wand. Eliza launched herself at it, shoving the woman to the ground as she did so.

“Petrificus Totalus!” she snapped, and the woman, smelling strongly of dung with ink running down her face fell to the ground as stiffly as a board.

The door of the pub burst open again, and the fireplace lit up. Instantly, there were twice as many aurors then Death Eaters, and Sirius and Frank stood beside Eliza and Joan. The three that were left disapparated, and the two that were unconscious by Eliza were instantly taken up. Joan’s two were either crawling around, sobbing, or staring dumbly at the wall.

“What’s you do?” Frank asked, staring at Joan.

“Memory charm and befuddlement,” Joan answered tiredly.

Sirius put his arm around Eliza.

“You can’t storm out and go to a pub without getting into a fight, can you?” He said, laughing, “Come on, let’s take you to your brother’s house. Good night, you three.”

Eliza waved as she was steered out by Sirius.


A/N: Merry Christmas! And if you don't celebrate Christmas... well, this is my gift to you because I feel like it!


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Old January 16th, 2005, 1:37 am
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Chapter Thirty- Two, Part Two

Before Eliza knew it, Wednesday had flashed before her eyes and left. She was tired and withdrawn, but she knew that she could allow that to be traced to the ‘death’ so she didn’t keep it secret. The death of an old friend, she had said, or at least one who once was one before she went and joined the Death Eaters, the fool.

Yet, after such a quick day, the night was long, and it stretched out into a dark expanse, despite her exhaustion.

After a half-hour of tossing and turning, Eliza once again turned to her memory. Memory.

“Your House will be like your home. You will eat as a House, and study in your Common Room. For your rule-breaking, you will lose points that go toward the House Cup awarded at the end of the year. For your good deeds, you will be awarded points. The House with the most points will be awarded the House Cup,” Professor McGonagall informed the pale, small first years that shivered before her.

Then she checked her watch and nodded, “It’s time.”

She led the first years through the doors into the Great Hall. As Eliza passed her brother and his friends, he grinned, nudged the boy beside him, pointed, and laughed.

All Eliza could do was turn her head and continue walking. What was that boy’s name? Serious? Now, seriously.... She hadn’t really liked him that much. After all, he’d called her Lizzie and Beth!

That other boy... Renus? No... that wasn’t it... She didn’t set much in store for him, either. He was horribly quiet, and spent nearly the whole time with his nose in a book. Besides, he wouldn’t look at her, but she had an uncomfortable feeling that he was watching her when she wasn’t looking. Creepy.

That last boy... Petrus... no, more common... Peter! She automatically disliked him. He had an annoying voice. It squeaked, and she had already dubbed him (mentally) Mouse-boy. He also picked his nose.

Eliza was suddenly knocked back to reality by... applause? She realised that they were clapping for the hat placed on a four legged stool. Why? Thinking back, she vaguely remembered song... maybe it was a singing hat...

“When I call your name,” Professor McGonagall began, “I will place the Sorting Hat on your head. It will then place you into a House.”

“Bones, Christopher.”

McGonagall placed the hat on a blonde boy’s head. The Hat was still before opening a rip by its brim and shouting, “RAVENCLAW!”

Applause exploded from one of the tables as they welcomed Christopher into their ranks. Eliza stood, dozing. A couple more sortings went by. Then, BOOM! A shower of sparks rained down onto the students. McGonagall jumped before craning her neck to peer over at the Gryffindor Table. The first boy... Sinus? had his lips pressed together and his eyes wide, clearly feigning innocence. Eliza smiled to her self. Maybe he wasn’t so terribly bad. Just a little.

Professor McGonagall shook her head, her thin lips twitching, “Johnson, Alice.”

A round faced girl ran up. Eliza noted she was the girl who she’d had a good conversation with. She seemed to be all right. “GRYFFINDOR!”

Several more passed. A dark haired boy stepped forward when the professor called, “Longbottom, Frank!”

“GRYFFINDOR!”

After him came two Hufflepuff, and one Slytherin, then came, “Olson, Adam” who grinned at the professor as she set the hat on his head. “GRYFFINDOR!”

Eliza realised she was coming up, and that she had only been committing the Gryffindors to memory. That wouldn’t help her if she was put in Ravenclaw, or Hufflepuff. Especially if she was in Slytherin. Slytherin? She’d probably kill half the house then run away...

“Potter, Elizabeth!”

Professor McGonagall’s eyes flicked from her to her brother as she approached the stool. Her stomach twisted, and she sat down. The hat was placed on her head, and it covered her eyes. She closed them anyway, and a small voice seemed to speak into her ear.

“Interesting... there’s cleverness, and bravery, and clearly ambition... let’s see...”

Eliza screwed her eyes up and waited in anxiety for the verdict.

“Hm... not Hufflepuff, and I suppose not Ravenclaw... Slytherin?” Eliza’s heart dropped, “No, best be GRYFFINDOR!”

Eliza pulled off the hat, her heart pounding. She walked calmly to the Gryffindor Table, her head spinning. There was a spot across from her brother, between a girl with long red hair and bright green eyes and Adam Olsen, who sat next to Frank Longbottom. She slid into that spot, smiling slightly.

The girl beside her turned to her, “Hello! I’m Lily Evans! This is Joan Stanson,” she gestured to the girl on her other side, a girl with dark red hair and a cold expression.

“Hi, I’m Eliza Potter.” She said that to both Adam and Lily.

Adam grinned back at her, “I’m Adam Olsen.”

Frank leaned back and said cheerfully, “I’m Frank Longbottom!”

They all laughed at his enthusiasm. James grinned at her, “Congrats, Lize!”

“Yeah, Bethy! Congratulations!” The boy, Sinius said.

“She’s not related to you, is she?” Lily asked, surprised.

“Yes, she is!”

“I’m sorry,” Lily whispered. Both girls laughed.


Eliza opened her eyes before rolling over to look at the clock beside her bed. 2:36. She groaned. For some reason, she just couldn’t sleep. As she sat up, her stomach rumbled.

Eliza twisted her hair up, slipping into her shoes. She pulled on her robes over her pajamas and checked for her wand. She opened her door and slipped out. She tread lightly on the stone floors of the corridor, slipping down staircase after staircase, until finally, she found herself at the painting of a bowl of fruit.

She tickled the pear until it squirmed and giggled. She pushed open the painting to reveal a bustling kitchen. One of the house-elves gasped and bowed to her, his hands holding an orange in both hands.

“What does Professor Smythe want? What does Mistress wish for Dilly to get her?” the elf squeaked.

“Some hot cocoa and a plate of biscuits, please, Dilly,” Eliza answered as another house-elf herded her to the small table.

Almost instantly, three house-elves came running over with a huge pot of cocoa and a platter of biscuits. Eliza suddenly remembered the lesson she had learned young, ask for far less than you truly want. You’ll get far too much anyway. Too late now, she thought, pouring herself a mug of the cocoa.

She sat, lost in her thoughts as she helped herself to a biscuit. It had been years since she hadn’t been able to sleep once a memory cut itself off... not since... she shook her head, as the painting opened again. In walked three teenagers.

“Honestly Hermione, you’d better not start any of that spew rubbish here,” complained Ron Weasley as she followed him in.

“It’s not spew, Ron, its-”

“Harry Potter, sir! Harry Potter!”

A clothed house-elf had his arms wrapped tightly around the young man’s midriff.

“Hello, Dobby,” gasped Harry.

Eliza settled back and kept her mind clear in effort to keep the teenagers from noticing their professor watching them as she drank cocoa.

Ron informed a waiting house-elf as to what he wanted as Dobby led them to the table. Suddenly they noticed their professor as she took a sip of cocoa.

She tried to give them a stern look, but her lips kept twitching, so she covered her mouth with her mug, taking a drink, giving them that stern look.

Hermione started, before trying to recover with a, “Good evening, Professor.”

Eliza smiled, her face calm, and answered, “It’s more morning, that evening, is it not, Miss Granger?”

Hermione went pink, and Harry watched her, an odd look on his face.

Eliza motioned them to sit down, “Go on, but mind this, next time I find you wandering about at night, it’ll be detention.”

Hermione blinked, before sitting down. Harry nodded, and Ron gaped.

“Are you serious?”

“No, that’s-” she broke off, not finishing the worn out joke. She was suddenly overwhelmed with the remembrance that one of the last times she had been in the kitchens was when Adam Olsen, Frank’s best friend had chased her from the Great Hall, all the way up to the owlery before chasing her to the kitchens. They had then helped themselves to a hand full of tarts each and spent the rest of the night laughing and eating. She smiled slightly at the memory before realising the three before her were staring at her, “Never mind, but next time, you will be in detention.”

Hermione frowned for a moment, watching her, before saying, “Thank you, professor.”


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Old February 21st, 2005, 9:56 pm
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A/N: Once again, and probably not for the last time, I am sorry for the wait! Thank you for being patient people and keeping your pitchforks away from me until I came out with this update. Feedback is appreciated!

Chapter Thirty-Two Part Three

Eliza leaned back, allowing the three teenagers to have their own conversation. Or rather, the two teenagers to have their own conversation. Harry hardly said a word the whole time, staring into his cup of tea and chewing on a biscuit. He’d murmur something if a direct question was posed to him, but he never paid any attention.

Eliza turned her attention to Hermione for a few seconds, dipping a biscuit into her cocoa. Hermione was clearly struggling to carry a conversation, exchanging worried looks with Ron, and both of them glancing at Harry every few seconds.

“Well, how do you think the Quidditch Game next week will go?” she asked, clearly not interested in Quidditch nearly as much as getting Harry to talk, “Harry? Harry!”

He jumped, “Sorry, what?”

“How do you think the Quidditch match will go next week?” she repeated.

“Oh... I don’t know. We have a good team, I suppose, it’s better than last year’s, but our beaters are hopeless,” he answered distractedly.

“Ginny’s good,” Ron added, “And we have Harry back on the team.”

“Yes, of course,” Hermione answered, allowing Ron to take over, discussing Quidditch to himself. She watched Harry worriedly, frowning, as he stared at the table, his biscuit hovering between his mouth and the plate it had been on.

“-We’ll be fine if we can just stay focused. I mean, once the game’s in motion, we’ll be in our element, but if-” Ron broke off, shoving another biscuit in his mouth. He glanced over at Harry, his biscuit still not in his mouth yet. He nudged Harry, who started and stared at Ron in surprise.

“Are you going to eat that, mate?” Ron asked.

“Eat wh- Oh... sorry,” he bit into it, chewing slowly.

Hermione glanced down to her plate, then up to her professor who was watching Harry, an odd expression on her face.

“Professor?”

Eliza glanced over to her student, “Yes, Hermione?”

“Good night, I think we should go. I’m feeling a bit tired. Good night.”

“Good night, Hermione, Ron. Harry, I need to talk to you. Harry! Potter!” She barked the last words. Harry jumped, and she said more gently, “I’d like to talk to you. If you two get caught, I am not taking any blame, and I will not vouch for you, so don’t get caught. I’ll take Harry up when I’m finished talking to him.”

The three paused for a moment, glancing between Eliza and each other.

Hermione slipped over to where Harry was. He whispered something to her, handing her a small silver bundle of cloth.

“We’ll wait for you in the Common Room,” Hermione whispered.

“Don’t bother,” Harry replied.

Ron and Hermione hesitated, looking at each other. Hermione finally shook her head, “Good night, Professor, Harry.”

She led the way out of the kitchens, Ron paused, grabbed a handful of biscuits and went after her, catching up easily.

Professor Smythe waited until Hermione and Ron were gone.

“So, how are you, Harry?” She asked, studying him closely.

He shrugged, “Fine,” he mumbled, studying the worn grain of the table.

She nodded, calculating quickly, “Good. Have you been practicing Occlumency?” she asked, giving a small hint of sternness.

He looked at her for a moment, and nodded uncertainly.

“Then work on it tonight, Mr. Potter. You look as if you could use it. Let’s head up,” she stood, wondering in her mind how it had come to this. It had seemed like only the day before when she had first held her nephew, convinced that she would be able to watch him grow up. Of course, not even two years later, everything had changed, and now she stood before her nephew. She was watching his reaction to his aunt’s death, and she had to treat him as a student. She could let him know she was his supposedly dead aunt.

Harry followed her through the kitchens, and though the passage. When they were half way up the narrow staircase he spoke for the first time in a while, “Professor?”

Eliza stopped and looked back towards her student, “Yes, Harry?” she prompted, watching him carefully in the dim, almost nonexistent light.

“Is she really dead? I mean, my aunt?”

Eliza swallowed, thankful he wouldn’t be able to see her expression in the dark, and answered, “Dumbledore and McGonagall confirmed the body to be that of your aunt’s. Beyond that, I wouldn’t know,” she answered, trying rather unsuccessfully to keep her voice from catching.

“But... if she was supposed to be a Death Eater... why would he kill her? I mean, was she really a Death Eater, or...?” he trailed off, clearly uncertain.

Her insides were squirming, and it was all she could do not to spill everything, but she knew she couldn’t. Time for that had come and gone, and now, she had to keep her secret silent, “Harry, listen to me. I took your aunt to be a good person, and very against everything Voldemort stood for. So did everyone else. Why she was accused as a Death Eater, I don’t know, but I do know this. Voldemort wanted her dead for a long time. There isn’t anything anyone could do for it. Don’t tear yourself up, okay?”

Eliza couldn’t see Harry’s face, but she could see the outline, of it, and his glasses. She waited. Finally he spoke.

“I never met her... no one ever mentioned her... but as soon as I find out she’s alive, she dies...” anger slowly became evident in his voice, but then he fell silent, and the two stood in the dark staircase.

Eliza turned, her insides burning, and her throat coated thickly. She slowly walked the rest of the way up the stairs. They came to the Entrance Hall, and a smooth voice came from the opposite side of the hall.

“Well, what do we have here? Students after hours?” the voice was velvety, and coming nearer. Soon, the figure it came from came into view.

“Honestly, Severus,” Eliza cleared her throat, “If you can’t tell the difference between a professor and a student, then you clearly aren’t doing a very good job of patrolling the halls.

“And what are you doing after hours, Eliza?” Severus asked, clearly suspicious.

“And what are you doing after hours, Severus?” she mimicked

“Who’s that with you? Oh, it wouldn’t be the Potter boy, would it?” Harry came even with Eliza. Eliza could tell, even in the dark of night, that he was tense, ready to spring if necessary.

“I’m taking him back of to Gryffindor Tower, is that a problem for you, Severus?” she asked, cooly.

“What have we said about favoring students, Smythe?”

“Oh! You’re a fine one to start talking about that, Snape!”

“Oh, am I? Well-”

“Yes you are! You and your Slytherin students!”

“You know very well why I do! That doesn’t give you an excuse to let Potter off the hook just because he’s Potter!”

“And you should know very well why I do what I do! Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll get out of your way, and you can go search the corridors for some other-”

“This is why you shouldn’t be allowed to be here! You’ve always just toed lines, swapped sides, and followed your own lot. Let on your own, you’re just some thick woman without-”

“Yes! I am just some thick woman! Just some thick woman who was some thick girl who got you, just some thick man out of some trouble because you were too thick to see how to get out!”

Harry followed this argument, his mouth slightly open, looking from one professor to another, clearly surprised.

“I... you...” his voice was thick with anger, “Just go to bed, and I’ll deal with you in the morning,” he finished, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture as he walked away.

Harry turned and stared at his professor. She sighed, shook her head, and smiled, laughing slightly, “I’m sure the first thing you’ll say to Ron and Hermione is that I got in a row with Snape,” she started to laugh.

Harry paused for a moment before answering, “I suppose.”

Laughing, Eliza led Harry toward the Gryffindor Common room.


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Old March 14th, 2005, 9:32 pm
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Chapter Thirty-Three

The next morning, Eliza slipped into the Great Hall. After her short amount of sleep, she was surprisingly very awake.

“Good morning,” she said pleasantly to her colleagues as she sat down.

Professor Sinistra gave her an odd look, “You seem too lively for your own good,” she informed Eliza, she paused for a moment before adding in a whisper, “Severus is in a worse mood than usual.”

Eliza grinned broadly, “Is he? Wonderful!”

Her friend groaned softly, “It’s too early for this... whatever you do, don’t get me into it. I’m too young to die!”

Eliza laughed softly before taking her seat and pouring herself some juice.

Severus glowered at her.

Eliza smiled cheerfully at him.

“You know,” he hissed, “You honestly should-”

“Don’t tell me what I should honestly do or not do,” she answered lightly, buttering a piece of toast.

Snape ignored this, “You know what you almost did last night? Listen to me. If you slip, or if something else goes wrong, and someone hears of it that shouldn’t, it won’t only mean death for you and yours, but it will also put everyone in Hogwarts in danger. You hear me?” he whispered, “I don’t care how mad you get, or how right you are or think you are, do not, I repeat do not slip. You’ve been told, do not tell anyone, and this includes Potter, especially Potter, because you know what can happen, and-”

“Severus, I understand what you’re saying. All right?” she hissed back.

He opened his mouth one more time, paused, and answered, “Fine.”

“Good,” she replied, taking a bite out of her toast, now with marmalade spread on it.

“Wonderful,” Professor Sinistra put in. When she received surprised glances, she shrugged and answered, “All I heard was ‘fine’, then ‘good’ so I decided the next step had to be wonderful,” she shrugged, and Eliza laughed. Severus scowled.



Eliza sighed, checking her watch as she shuffled through papers. It was getting near the time for the Occlumency lesson.

The day had gone through fairly quickly, but Eliza was still drained by the end of it. After all, it was one of her busiest days of the week.

A couple minutes late, a knock came at the door. Eliza checked her wand, inside her sleeve as always, and called, “Come in!”

The door opened, and Harry entered, looking around the room with one quick glance.

Eliza smiled at him, standing up, “How are you?” she asked.

“Fine,” he answered, rather automatically.

Eliza nodded, “Are you ready?” she asked, walking towards the cleared spot in her office.

Harry nodded, following, his feet shuffling against the stone floor.

Eliza sat cross legged on the cold floor, and Harry followed suit silently. As he did so, she examined him carefully. Beneath his messy black hair, his green eyes were to be found behind his round glasses.

‘Lily’s eyes,’ Eliza thought, not for the first time, ‘Only older.’ Yes, older seemed to be the right way to describe it. At Harry’s age, Lily’s eyes had always glittered with some unspoken mirth, or in a gentle kindness. Only, Lily’s eyes never held the look Harry’s now held. Harry’s were more mature, but they still contained the same glimmer his parents’ eyes had, the same look that threatened a joke or a trick. Except now, that look in Harry’s eyes was more subdued.

“All right, Mr. Potter, are you-” she reached into Harry’s mind, “read?” she finished seconds after she had done what he needed to be ready for.

She hit resistance, and a surprising about of that, as well, but she easily broke through.

Merpeople were rapidly rising through the water... the Dark Mark erupted into the sky over a forest... Eliza pushed farther and farther back into his mind, protecting her own mind as she pushed through. She met more resistance than usual as she forced her way through, but she kept digging. ... letters come spilling out of the fireplace... a small boy sits, staring at a box of dog treats... but Eliza doesn’t pause. Suddenly, she finds her reflection in a mirror, the reflection of a fifteen-year-old girl talking to a wet sixteen-year-old boy. She starts for a second, barely lowering her barriers, and she felt a slam go through her mind, leaving her fumbling.

...James holds up a mirror, laughing as he talks to it... Eliza ducks as a pot of stew goes whizzing over her head... a circle of Death Eaters closes in... a Quidditch game in the middle of a blizzard... a young round faced woman smooths the skirt of her wedding gown... Eliza, pale, kneels before Voldemort... a stag becomes a pale young man... Harry attempted to push forward more, but Eliza quickly pulled her defenses up as he made for another lunge.

Her vision cleared as she blinked rapidly, and she looked up to see Harry blinking in the same manner.

Eliza shook her head to clear it, and said quietly, “That was very good.”

Harry looked up, meeting her eyes evenly, waiting.

“Yes, definitely an improvement, but you need more resistance faster. What you did was enough to slow me and catch me off guard, but you’ll need more than that to do the same to Voldemort.”

Harry nodded, still silent.

Eliza shifted on the cold stone floor, and said quietly, “Again, then.”

Harry nodded, and the mental duel went on. Eliza met a fair amount of resistance, but it didn’t last too long, and soon she was watching Hermione and Ron gripe at each other.

“You need to hold out longer, but I’ve seen worse. Let’s try this again,” and for the third time, the fight went on.

Each time, the resistance was a little longer, but this, like the resistance, didn’t last long. After a little less than an hour, the time shortened with every attempt.

Eliza lifted herself off the floor and nodded to Harry.

“It seems we got a lot done,” she said, smiling, “You did very well today.”

Harry gave her a slight half smile in reply before speaking, “Professor? I was wondering...”

Eliza, who had walked to her desk and picked up some parchment lowered it and prompted, “Yes?”

“Well... I was wondering if you could tell me about this,” he said awkwardly, pulling something from his pocket and holding it towards her.

Eliza stepped forward and reached to take it. It was a photograph, and a worn one at that. A small group of teenage wizards were crowded around a table in the Gryffindor Common Room, making faces at the camera and laughing.

Eliza pointed to each witch or wizard in turn from left to right, explaining, “This is Frank, Frank Longbottom, Neville’s father. Next to him is Alice Johnson, Neville’s mother. This was fourth year for them, and fifth for your parents. Above Alice, here, is Joan Stanton. You’ve met her once before. She was the woman who came barging in here a month or so ago, remember? Here, next to Joan, is your mother. I don’t know what was so funny, but she only laughed like that when she was about to die of laughter. Let’s see, your father is next to Lily, he purposely must have placed himself beside her. He must have made her laugh, that’s why he’s so pleased looking. Here’s Adam Olsen, a friend of Frank’s, and here’s his friend Trent. Then here is Remus, Sirius, Peter, and your aunt.”

“Where are you?”

“Taking the photograph, probably,” she lied, “I’m surprised it wasn’t Joan. She hated being in them. She’d rather take it than be in it. That’s most likely why she’s scowling this much. She usually doesn’t scowl that bad unless she’s really upset,” she suddenly looked up, “Where did you get this?”

“I found it,” he answered awkwardly.

Eliza nodded, “Yes, but where?”

“In a book,” he mumbled.

Eliza raised an eyebrow, and he blushed.

“In one of the library books. It was marking a page about disillusioning small things,” he finally answered.

Eliza thought for a moment, and reasoned to herself. That had to have been when the Marauder Map was in the planning... Quickly, a few things clicked into place, and she nodded, “What else do you want to know about it? Anything in particular?”

Harry paused for a moment, then shook his head, “No, I just wanted to know who those people were. Good night,” he answered slowly.

“Good night,” Eliza replied, watching him go.


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Old March 16th, 2005, 9:56 pm
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A/N: I hope you don't get too spoiled because of two updates in three days, but I'll risk it!

Chapter Thirty-Four

Snape took the front. A silence fell over the group as he cleared his throat. He had a stake of reports that Eliza eyed anxiously. The meeting so far had not been pleasant, as, given the reports of her death, she was watched carefully by mostly everybody. They peered at her from the corners of their eyes, trying not to catch her attention.

Well, it could be worse, she decided to herself. They could be doing... much more than look.

“...Dumbledore has ordered me to identify they body,” Snape informed the group, continuing on what he had begun to talk about, “Eliza has been kind enough to provide what is needed for the potion on her part.”

‘Wait.... when was this? She wondered, calmly raising an eyebrow at Snape, whose eyes ordered her to stay silent, ‘we’ll talk about this later’.

‘Fine’ she thought, leaning back. Of course, him having said that, she couldn’t refuse to ‘provide’ what was needed, with out sparking the suspicions of the others more.

“Those, mixed into the potion, will help us identify the body and let us know how to take care of it,” he continued.

“What if it’s her body? What if she-” a woman in the corner demanded. When she broke of, she nodded to Eliza and fell silent.

Eliza looked over at the woman, eying her carefully. She tried to place her, and after a bit, she succeeded. She was the woman who had initially shown distrust for her.

Severus paused, looking at the woman, his face darkened in the flickering light, “Then we will know, and she,” he nodded at Eliza, “Will be interrogated.”

“Why should we risk it?” She demanded, “Why should we risk her possibly passing information to someone?”

Severus leaned forward, a sneer showing on his face, “And why,” he asked smoothly, “Should we risk the possibility of you doing that?”

The woman drew herself up, unabashed, “Why would I spy?”

“And why would she?”

Eliza watched this exchange, fighting the desire to either laugh or defend herself, she wasn’t sure which.

Remus, who was watching Eliza, leaned over and whispered to her, “Dorothy seems a little agitated, doesn’t she?”

“Who is she?” Eliza whispered back.

“Know one knows for sure, but Dumbledore said she would be useful to the Order...” he trailed off, whispering.

“And what has she done to be useful?”

Remus just gave her a half smile and a half shrug before turning back to the meeting.

Snape looked around, “Any other questions?” he asked, in a soft, half-threatening way.

No one spoke, so he sat down, and let the next person take his place for a report, that being Kingsley.

As he gave his short report, Eliza stared out into space, not paying attention. She stared into her lap, thinking.

She thought about the potion, some lessons she needed to plan, some she needed to teach, and wondered exactly what slimy surprise she could place in her colleague’s bed to get back at him for this. Perhaps some half-pickled frog intestines. Or pig... or cat... or whatever else she could get her hands on.

She was roused out of thought as everyone began to stand up. She followed suit, looking around for Severus. She craned her head, trying to look around some of the taller men’s heads. She couldn’t find him.

Remus stood, and she turned to him, “Where is Snape?”

“He left the second the meeting was over,” he sounded puzzled, “Didn’t you see him leave?”

“Must not have,” she replied.

Remus smiled, “You’re rather unobservant for someone in your position,” he informed her.

Eliza made a face at him as Joan came up.

“Well, what do you think?” she asked, quiet.

“What about?” Remus and Eliza asked at the same time.

Joan gave them a look, “Don’t do that. I mean, about Snape’s report, and Dorothy.”

Eliza sighed, “I’m not sure what I think. I have to go find him and talk to him about it.”

Joan grinned, “Just don’t kill him.” At Eliza’s surprised look, she explained, “You sound like you will.”

Eliza sighed, “I’m thinking about it,” she replied.

“Did he not tell you about your supplying materials?” Remus asked.

“Exactly. I have to find out what he volunteered me to give. I should probably go do that,” she frowned, “Well, good bye. Have a good week.”

Remus sighed, “I’ll try,” he said doubtfully.

Eliza, giving Joan a hug, raised an eyebrow, before realizing, “Oh, it’s full moon this week, isn’t it?”

Remus nodded, and Eliza hugged him, “Well, I hope you don’t have a horrible week, how’s that?”

Remus smiled, “Okay, ‘Bye Lize.”

Joan nodded, “’Bye! Go give Snape a piece of your mind, and don’t let him make you donate a vital organ, okay?”

Eliza laughed, “That’s what I have to find out. Good night!”



Eliza walked down another flight of stairs into the Entrance Hall. As she stepped down, she looked around, feeling as though she was being watched. It was not yet ten o’clock, but it was getting near to that. Eliza had left a bit earlier than usual in order to find Snape.

She had Flooed to her office, fed Mischief, locked up her office, checked her pockets, and left. Now, she puzzled to herself, wondering if she was really being watched. Of course, she had learned to trust those feelings after years of punishments for not doing so.

She walked across the Entrance Hall, careful not to make any noise so she herself could listen. Nothing, or nothing that she could hear. She shook her head and made her way into the dungeons. She walked quickly down the passageway, trying not to look at the damp stone walls carefully.

She finally made it to Snape’s office, grimacing at the stale air. She lifted her hand to knock, but the door swung open before she could touch the door.

“I thought you’d be down here sooner,” Snape said, raising an eyebrow at her.

Eliza gave him a look, “I came down here to ask you-”

“What materials you needed to donate?”

“Yes,” she replied impatiently, crossing her arms.

“Not much.”

“Tell me, Severus.”

“Just some blood and some hair.”

She thought so much, “How much?”

He gave her the amount.

She stared at him, “Are you planning on killing me in the process?”

“I’ve talked to Professor McGonagall, and we talked to Madam Pomfrey. It’ll be fine, you just need to take a potion for blood renewing before hand.”

“What, so I’ll explode?” She demanded.

“I hope not. You won’t, Madam Pomfrey hasn’t let that many die, has she? What are the chances the next one will be you?”

Eliza glowered at him, “Fine, then. What else is needed?”

“Tooth of a werewolf, your blood and hair need to be taken at full moon, some unicorn horn, and some other things,” he said vaguely.

“Where are you getting the tooth?”

“Minerva is taking care of that.”

Eliza leaned back against the doorframe, “Remus?”

“Who else?”

“Wouldn’t he rip her to shreds?”

“No, we’ve taken care of what will happen,” he answered, smoothly.

Eliza glanced around his office while she interrogated him, looking for the perfect thing to place in his bed. There were so many slimy things, it was so difficult to pick, so she lightly took a jar of what looked like slimy spaghetti, and slipped into her pocket, keeping it hidden behind her back.

Eliza sighed, “So when will we take care of this?”

“Full moon. Tuesday night,” he gave her an odd look.

“Am I going to be able to teach Wednesday?”

“You should be,” he answered, “The question is, ‘Will Poppy allow me to teach?’”

“Well, will she?”

Snape shrugged, “Perhaps.”

Eliza rolled her eyes, “That’s comforting,” she told him as she walked away.

“I thought so.”

Eliza left, and instead of going the direction she should have, went another, fingering the flask in her pocket carefully.


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Old March 28th, 2005, 9:17 pm
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Chapter Thirty-Five, Part One

Sunday morning dawned bright and clear. Frost coated the grounds lightly, and and sky deep blue.

Eliza, sitting at breakfast, decided it would be a good day as she watched Severus enter the Great Hall. He wore a deep scowl, and he glowered at Eliza the moment he saw her. He made his way directly towards her, and some students looked up as he stalked by, Harry and his friends included. They gaped as he came around the table, sat gingerly, and instantly started ranting. Eliza smiled politely the whole time, trying hard not to laugh.

“You little arrogant-” he tried to begin.

“Are you talking to me?” she asked, innocently.

“Don’t start that!” he snapped, “I can’t see how you could do that!”

“Do what?” she asked, sipping some juice.

“You know what!”

“I know what, exactly?” she lowered her goblet of juice to the table slowly.

“Quit playing games! You put those pickled tentacles in my bed!”

“Oh, is that what they are?” she asked, as if making polite conversation.

“Yes! And if you were a student, I’d expel you! If we were still young, I’d hex you into the next century!”

“But I’m not, and we’re not, so there’s not really a point in doing anything, is there?” she asked, smoothing out her napkin, smiling innocently.

“Don’t give me any of that-” he broke off, scowling even more deeply, if that was possible.

Eliza just smiled a bit more widely, and stood, taking the last of her toast off her plate. She nodded to Snape, and said, “Have a good day.”

He cursed her softly, and she grinned back, “Same to you, my friend,” she laughed.

With her toast, Eliza walked away from the Staff Table, and through the Great Hall. When she reached the doors, she went through, and finished the rest of her toast as she ran up the stairs to her office to get her papers.

She spent the rest of the day grading papers and planning lessons, taking short breaks to chase students through the hallways and once to take a walk on the grounds to visit Hagrid. She had hardly visited him at all in the year, so he was happy to see her.

The rest of the day ended without major mishaps, much to Eliza’s relief, and that night she absentmindedly drew a memory from her mind...

Eliza sat in the old Order Headquarters. She was wearily going over a report, stifling yawns every few seconds. She shifted in her seat, uncomfortable, and looked around the room.

Alastor Moody sat across the table from her, shuffling through a large stack of reports, sorting them, stacking them, and restacking them, looking agitated.

The Prewett brothers, Fabian and Gideon, played Wizard’s chess, scowling at the board.

The room was dimly lit, except for the gas lamps placed every so often around the room.

The silence was tense, as it was too often these days. This silence only broken by the crackle of papers, or the soft commands coming from Fabian and Gideon.

“Rook to E4,” Fabian said, almost silently.

“Knight to E4,” Gideon replied, smiling slightly as the knight knocked the rook to the board.

“Pawn to A6,” Fabian whispered.

“Queen to A6,” Gideon answered lightly.

Fabian groaned, “Honestly, if you do that once more-”

“You’ll lose. Check.”

Fabian sat up straight, “What?”

“Just-” Gideon broke off, turning quickly a certain spot of the room where their had just been a flash of fire.

As the fire roared upwards, Moody leapt up and caught something from the air by the fire, “It’s a letter...” he trailed off, scanning the letter quickly, before swearing, “Gideon, get everyone up and down here. Make sure they bring their cloaks. Eliza, go help him, and grab yours as well. Fabian come here-” his voice faded away as Gideon and Eliza raced upstairs, where they quickly sounded the alarm that would wake those in Headquarters up.

Eliza banged on all the doors and shouted, “Move! Grab your cloaks and wands!” over and over.

Order members, few as they were, seemed to pour out of the rooms. The doors opened with a series of bangs, and everyone ran downstairs. Eliza ran into one of the rooms to grab her cloak and was greeted by Sirius.

“What’s going on?” he asked, staring at her blearily, rubbing his eyes.

“Dumbledore sent a letter. Moody had Gideon and me sound the alarm. Get your wand and cloak and get moving,” she called as she ran down the hall. She ran half way down the stairs before jumping the rest of the way down. Sirius tumbled down beside her, looking as if he’d fallen the whole length of the stairs.

Moody was making an announcement, but Eliza couldn’t here it over the coughs and yawns of the Order members, but grabbed the portkey along with everyone else as they reached forwards. Moody nodded to her as he counted, “Four, three, two,” and she felt a jerk around her middle as they flung into a blur of color.

They slammed into the ground moments later and instantly scattered, weaving paths, as the group was too big of a target together. Eliza found herself faced with a Death Eater shorter than her, and smaller.

“Stupefy!” the Death Eater cried, and Eliza recognized the voice as she deflected the curse with a flick of her wand.

“Expelliarmus!” Eliza replied lightly, keeping focus on her target, her opponent, Bellatrix Black.

Bella whispered a spell that Eliza couldn’t make out, which broke through Eliza’s shield spell, sending her tumbling to the muddy ground. Rain splattered her glasses as she leapt back up, chanting hexes as quickly as she could.

Bella squealed with the delight of an infant as she broke out with boils and tumbled to the ground with Jelly Legs.

“Finite Incantatem!” a male voice cried above the din of the field.

Bella rolled to her feet, sending a fury of curses at Eliza. Eliza dodged as many as she could, and blocked the others, but one broke through.

“Curcio!” Bella hissed, her aim steady. Eliza dropped, but not fast enough, and pain shot through her.

As Eliza struggled with the white-hot knives that seemed to stab her, Bellatrix triumphantly spoke another hex, and everything went black.


A/N: To be continued.... I'm trying to keep good posting habits...


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Old April 28th, 2005, 9:43 pm
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Chapter 35 part two

It hurt...she was sore... and lying on a cold stone floor...she heard someone nearby pacing... once in a while they kicked her on their way by.... why would they do that? Why was she on the floor? Why...

The memory of what had happened flashed through her mind, and she nearly groaned, but stifled it. She wasn’t sure if she wanted the someone in the room to know she was awake until she could think straight.

With barely any movement, Eliza checked herself for her belongings. Her robe was on her, her cloak uncomfortably twisted around her, her boots and socks were on, and her glasses were smashed against her face, but still in contact... Her pockets, which usually had an odd assortment off tricks... empty. No sign of her wand.

Cursing mentally, she looked around the room the best she could without moving her head. It was a stone room, with a stone floor. It had the look of the dungeons in Hogwarts, only this room was mustier, dirtier, and had a much lower ceiling.

“Is the girl awake yet?” came a business-like voice from around, presumably, the door.

“Not yet, but I think she’s beginning too,” came an almost familiar voice.

“If it was just a Stunning Spell, she should have been awake hours ago,” Mr. Business-Like stated stiffly.

“If it was just a Stunning Spell, you would have been able to wake her up, wouldn’t you?” Retorted Mr. Familiar.

“Don’t get cheeky with me, Severus,” Mr. Business-Like replied, bored.

“Of course not, Lucius,” Severus replied.

“You wouldn’t want the Dark Lord to hear about it, he might think you’re rebelling. I’ll be back in a few hours to check to see if she’s awake. When she does wake up, remember...”

“Yes, sir.”

Eliza stared at the wall... Severus... who? Snape... Wait... Snape??? Severus Snape?

‘It makes sense,’ Eliza reasoned, ‘We always knew he was into the Dark Arts, so following Voldemort would be good for him...’

She heard Snape mutter something under his breath, and hit the wall with a smack. There was silence, before a hard kick hit her on the side.

Eliza gasped and kicked out in reflex. She caught his left foot with her right and brought him to the ground.

Not moving from his spot on the floor beside her, he took out his wand and sent her flying across the room. She hit the wall in the corner, and her air went out of her body with an “Umph.”

“You stay quiet,” he hissed, “You don’t want to face the Dark Lord sooner than you must, do you? Someone else will come down when the Dark Lord has time to deal with you again.”

Eliza hesitated, but opened her mouth and whispered, “What do you want?”

“With you?” he hissed back, “Me, nothing, personally, but the Dark Lord wants you-”

“To join him, is that it?” she snapped softly.

“Yes, that would be it,” he answered.

Eliza sneered, “I’m not weak enough to want to crawl up to him and call him Master before licking his feet. Not when he’d sooner torture me than anything.”

Snape just watched her.

Eliza calculated quickly before whispering, “The way you do. I didn’t think you were as weak as that, but you joined Volde-”

“Don’t say his name!” he hissed.

“Before you joined a man that had you so terrified you hated to hear his name. You let him and others treat you like trash, for what? Glory? Power? He’s powerful enough right now, but have you seen any of that? Have you?”

“Keep your mouth shut, Potter,” he snapped, “And maybe you’ll be allowed to live.”

“And whose judgment is that?” she asked, cheerfully.

He kept his face stony, replying, “The Dark Lord’s.”

“And do you like living like a slug to do his bidding,” she whispered, slipping into his mind.

His guard was down, surprisingly, so Eliza slipped in without much trouble.

He opened his mouth, and Eliza gently pulled out some of his memories. Lightly inspecting his memories for ones that would be helpful in her getting out, she shuddered at some of them as she drew them out.

She waited as these memories came into recollection, and he scowled, “Why would you think we live like slugs?”

Eliza shrugged, surprised at how many gaps he’d left for her to slip in, “ Oh, perhaps the way you were treated just then,” she nodded her head, “Or the fact that you never liked to be bullied, yet here you are-”

“And what are you suggesting?” he breathed, still somehow managing to snap, “There wouldn’t be anyway out but death, if I wanted it, and-”

“Dumbledore,” she answered softly.

Snape gave her a sharp look, blowing air gently through his teeth, “Shhhhh,” he whispered quietly.

“Hush yourself,” she drew herself up, “Dumbledore,” she repeated, barely breathing the name.

“What about him?” the man across from her asked, looking around as if expecting figures to appear in the corners of the room.

“Talk to him, follow his lead, not-”

“I told you, there’s no way but death!” he hissed.

Eliza stared at him, surprised at how easily he was cooperating.

“Dumbledore’s a trusting man,” she said softly, echoing what she had been told before in her life.

“But would he trust a Death Eater?”

Eliza nodded, hiding her uncertainty, “I have no doubt,” she lied.

Snape looked at her, clearly thinking.

Eliza let him think a bit, before saying, “If you help me out of this, I’ll help you. Three days after I get out, meet me in the Hogs Head. I’ll take you to Dumbledore. Only if you help me out, mind.”

Snape looked at her, suspicious, “How do I know it won’t be a trap?”

Eliza bit her lip, thinking, “I’ll wait alone. You can come out to meet me. I won’t trap you if you help me. On my honor.”

He wasn’t completely convinced, not even with her sifting through his mind for help, “How do I know you have any?”

“How do I know you won’t go straight to Voldemort with this, seeing as he’ll kill me in a second if he finds out?”

Snape stared at her, “True...”


The memory blurred, and cleared to reveal a different room. It was a different time, a different room, but clearly the same building.

Eliza knelt in the middle of the room, her head down as she stared into the stone floor, trying to keep her thoughts steady.

“Don’t twitch, stay still, admit no weakness, but keep you head down and your defenses up,” she mentally schooled herself, echoing what Auror training had given her.

“This is my last offer,” a cold voice said in a tone that implied that it was more of a command than an offer, “Join me, and you will have power.”

“I-I...” she said, not completely acting out her shaking voice, “My Lord... I... I am not worthy to be your servant,” she said, hesitantly.

“Then we will make you worthy!” Voldemort’s cold voice broke through the air, “Crucio!”


The memory blurred once again, before clearing to reveal the cell.

“Here,” Snape forced parchment and a quill at her.

Eliza took them, confused, but obedient still the same. Her face was pale, and there was a lump on her forehead.

Snape peered out into the empty corridor, “Write a letter,” he breathed, “To your brother. He needs to rescue you. I’ll tell you where and when. Just write the beginning,” he moved to stand at the door where he could look down the corridor.


Dear Prongs,
It’s been a long time since I have seen you. I miss you, and it would please me if you came to visit
,” she wrote trying to keep it in code. Who knew if Snape really would deliver it, and who knew what a plain letter would bring? James would understand exactly what she said, while others, not knowing the circumstance, might not, “If you are to come, which I hope you will, I need you to come,” she paused, before hissing, “Snape! When?”

Snape gave her the information, and Eliza copied it down, before adding, “The house might be a bit full, at thirteen to fifteen guests, so I hope you prepare for the tight fit,” she wrote, her hands shaking as she finished the short letter, “Please, my friend. With love, Lize” Eliza folded the letter, before slipping it and the ink bottle to her guard. He took them, slipping them into his pocket.


Eliza slipped into waking. She glanced at her clock. Four in the morning. She rolled over, wide awake. She remembered the battle the next night.

James had arrived with about 20 members of the Order. Snape fought against them, with the Death Eaters, but Eliza wasn’t worried. He had delivered her letter, and that proved he was willing to work with her. And three days later, he met her in the Hog’s Head. Eliza took him to Dumbledore, who barely looked shaken as Eliza led in her foe from her school days.

After that, Dumbledore let Snape work as a spy for him, and after a few months, he brought Snape into the Order secretly, clearly realizing that Snape’s acceptance of Eliza did not extend to her brothers or friends. Why Dumbledore brought Snape into the order was never known; that was between Severus and Albus. Of course, the mauraders were mad.


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Old June 20th, 2005, 2:36 pm
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A/N: I'm horrible when it comes to updating... sorry!

Chapter 36 Part One

Eliza stifled a yawn as she walked down the third flight of stairs. She paused, checking her watch, before pushing open a door. She went down another narrow passageway, opened another door, and found herself in one of the back dungeons. It was Tuesday night, and the moon was full.

“Good to see you could make it, Eliza,” Professor McGonagall greeted her, nodding.

“I’m not late, am I?” Eliza asked unconcernedly, straightening the hem of her sleeve.

“I told you nine thirty. It’s nine forty-five,” the elder woman replied severely.

“She isn’t needed till ten,” Severus spoke suddenly, “I just told you nine thirty to make sure she’d be here in time to get the ingredients from her.”

Eliza glared at him, but Severus just tipped something into the cauldron, pretending he hadn’t noticed. The potion hissed, and began to shimmer in a purple color.

“Well where’s Poppy then?” Eliza asked, fighting the desire to hit him over the head.

“I’m right here, dear,” came the answer from the far corner.

Eliza peered through the darkness until she saw the nurse’s figure, bending over a bulky bag, shuffling through its contents, “Sorry, Poppy. Good evening,” Eliza said, feeling her face going red.

Idiot! she thought, Do you really expect to live through this war if you can’t even notice who’s in the same room as you are?

The door swung open to reveal Dumbledore, “Is everyone here? ” He asked cheerfully, but didn’t wait for an answer to reply to his own question, “Excellent.”

Eliza sighed, steeling herself before asking reluctantly, “What do we need to do now?”

Poppy hurried over at that moment, carrying a goblet of vile smelling liquid, “Drink this,” she said firmly, “All of it.”

Eliza took the goblet before tipping the contents into her mouth. She swallowed quickly, trying to get it all down before she could process the taste. She almost succeeded, but the taste hit her on the second to the last swallow, so she plugged her nose before she could gag and finished it.

Madam Pomfrey took the goblet, peered inside of it to make sure it was empty, and pulled out a vial. Eliza sighed and rolled up the sleeve of her arm, “Don’t even explain what you’re going to do. Just do it.”

Poppy and Albus exchanged amused looks, and she heard Severus laugh from the cauldron.

Minerva, on the other hand, took a pair of scissors from the table, and untied Eliza’s hair. She sorted until she found an unnoticeable part on her head, and began clipping at the same time Poppy began taking blood. Eliza held herself as still as possible, waiting for them to finish.

When they were done, Eliza allowed Poppy to take care of her arm. Poppy applied some ointment before prodding her with her wand to heal it. Minerva bound up the hair and handed it to Severus, along with the vial that Poppy had given her.

Eliza watched as Severus poured the vial into the potion along with powder. He then cut the hair in half, then again, before sprinkling it into the potion. There was a flash, and a thick steam began to come from the cauldron.

Eliza tried to stand, but Poppy pushed her back down. Eliza, who had an attack of nausea as she was pushed down, sat without complaint.

“Here,” the nurse said firmly, pushing another potion into her hands, and some food, “Drink the potion first, then eat. All of it.”

As Eliza followed the nurse’s instructions, Severus tipped the last of the ingredients into the potion.

“It needs to simmer for a half hour,” he said, stirring the cauldron, “And then it can be applied.”

Eliza looked up, “Is the body here?” she asked, swallowing the last of the potion.

Albus nodded, “It’s in the back of the room,” he answered, gesturing.

Eliza swallowed again, even though there wasn’t any food in her mouth. She covered her surprise by taking a bite of one of the bits of food on her plate.

They sat in silence for awhile, as Eliza finished the food. Her head felt a little better.

Minerva took the torch from beside where Eliza was sitting, and went to light a torch in the back of the room. As it flared into life, Eliza noted a figure lying on a board on on of the desks, covered in a white sheet.

A couple minutes later, Snape started to pack away his ingredients. As soon as everything was back in a case on the table, he moved the potion from the fire before filling a large flask. Then, he walked towards the body, and Dumbledore pulled out his watch murmuring, “Alastor should be here any-” and he cut off as the door opened.

Alastor peered into all of the corners of the room before entering, his large electric blue eye twirling about in his head. Suddenly, Eliza didn’t feel much better at all.

“Some bloke followed me half-way across the country. I had to make a few detours until he got off my tail,” Moody said, gruffly.

Eliza rolled her eyes into her goblet as she pretended to take a drink, in effort to hide her amuse. To no avail, as Mad-Eye said, “I saw that Smythe.”

Eliza grinned at him. Paranoid as always, Moody was. He would never call her Potter where anyone would hear, or even where they wouldn’t.

“The potion’s ready,” Snape announced.

Dumbledore walked over to Snape who sealed the flask, and together, they moved closer to the body.

Eliza felt a something in her stomach tighten, as she was suddenly anxious for this to happen. McGonagall and Poppy nodded to her, and she stood. Together they walked closer to the body.

Dumbledore took the flask from Snape, unsealed it, and waited for a moment. He removed the shroud that covered the body. Eliza felt chills as she saw her own face, haggard and pale as death. She closed her eyes for a moment, swallowed, then opened them, waiting.

Dumbledore carefully poured the potion over the body, covering it. Seconds seemed to stretch into years as they waited... waiting for something to happen.

And finally, it did.


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Old July 6th, 2005, 2:34 pm
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Chapter 36 Part Two

At first, Eliza didn’t notice the change, as it was too subtle to see. As it gradually changed more and more, Eliza realized that the body was shimmering. This light grew brighter and brighter, until everyone had to shield their eyes.

And suddenly, everything went dark again.

Eliza, with her night vision ruined by the bright light, blinked and blinked until she could see again.

Dumbledore held the torch close to the body’s face, in order to examine it.

“Who is it?” Eliza asked, moving closer.

The body was that of a woman, middle aged, with blonde hair. The woman’s hazel eyes stared, her mouth slightly open in shock.

Dumbledore’s face was unreadable, but when he put the torch back into the bracket, his movement was decisively heavy and slow.

“A muggle born by the name of Kallie Shaw. She was sorted into Ravenclaw, and married a half-blood man. They never had any children, since her husband disappeared shortly after their marriage, before Voldemort’s downfall. She worked as an Unspeakable in the ministry for twelve years, but she disappeared three months ago.”

McGonagall nodded, her lips tight, “Her brother-in-law should be notified that Kallie’s body was found.”

“If she was an Unspeakable, might she have information that Voldemort would want?” Eliza asked, ignoring Snape's hiss at the name.

Dumbledore regarded Eliza carefully, “It is possible, but the ministry has their ways of sealing the confidential information so those who know, can not say it to anyone who is trying to force it out of them.”

“But, there’s always the possibility that he can get around that,” Eliza pointed out.

“Yes, there are always possibilities,” Dumbledore nodded, looking tired, “Severus, would you escort Eliza up to her chambers. It wouldn’t do for her to pass out in the middle of the Entrance Hall.”

Snape’s mouth twisted sourly, but he nodded and led Eliza out of the dungeons.

Eliza scowled at Dumbledore as she walked out, but bit her tongue.

“You shouldn’t do that,” Snape said quietly as soon as they were out of the dungeons.”

“Do what?” Eliza asked, confused.

“What you just did to Dumbledore. He’s already thought about it, and you know-”

“And I know that he can defend himself better than you can defend him, Severus.”

“We have enough trouble without you adding to it,” Snape snapped.

Inwardly, Eliza groaned, Not here. Not now. We don’t need to row in the middle of the Entrance Hall. But she spun to face Snape, standing with her face three inches from his.

“Without me adding to it? Snape, do I have to remind you that I’m the one who’s teaching Harry Occlumency? I could leave, and then you could train him,” she smiled as Snape glowered at her, “Or I could just stay, cause trouble, and keep you from an assignment that you would dread.” She turned on her heel, and led the way up the dark staircase towards her rooms.


When Eliza finally got to her rooms, and after she’d sent Snape on his way (which he cheerfully did), Eliza laid on her bed, staring at the ceiling. Despite her aching head and tired body, her mind was on the move.

Kallie Shaw’s face seemed to be suspended in the air before her eyes. The woman who had died for no reason but perhaps information and to play the part of another woman’s body. Eliza closed her eyes, guilt filling her. The death may not be her fault directly, but indirectly, it was. Perhaps if she wasn’t in hiding, that woman would have still lived. If she’d been more firm with James, to stop him from putting her in hiding, a life would have been spared.

There’s no point in dwelling on the past and what could have been, her sensible side told her sharply, Besides, there was more than just one life relying on it. It’s not up to you to dwell on the could-have-beens.


Wednesday passed unnoticed by Eliza. Due to the events of the night before, and her lack of sleep, Eliza trudged through the day, trying hard not to fall asleep. When she finally managed to collapse on her bed, it was Thursday before she knew it.



She had the seventh years of Hufflepuff and Slytherin, then of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw that morning. She spent those hours working on the Patronus with them. Most of her students were dismal at it, and at first rather unwilling to cooperate with her, so she had spent half of the hour a couple weeks before pointing out that with Voldemort (they flinched) back in power, they may actually have to face dementors, and if that happened, they would need to know how to protect themselves. Now they worked a bit harder, and a bright haze seemed to hang in the Defense Against the Dark Arts room during those classes.

Next she had a couple hours with two groups of third years, where she taught them about the properties of Red Caps and showed them how to thwart them. Those weren’t very difficult hours, except for when one girl lost her head when the boy sitting behind her put his and his partner’s Red Cap on her shoulder. With the girl’s screams still echoing in her ears, Eliza headed down to lunch, chuckling to herself. James had done similar things to Lily. She had her suspicions on those students’ future.

She had two more hours after that, both of which passed uneventfully.


“Please pass the salt,” Eliza said to Professor Sinistra, who grinned and handed it to her with a flourish.

“I see you survived the day,” she said, grinning at Eliza.

“I see you did too,” Eliza said, gesturing with the salt to the other professors, “And they did, so I suppose that calls for a celebration.”

“Like Halloween?”

Eliza nodded, “How far away is that?”

The other woman laughed, “Next Wednesday, where have you been?”

Eliza grinned sheepishly, “Not paying too much attention to the calender, clearly.”

“No, never too much, but obviously not enough,” her eyes twinkled.

Eliza rolled her eyes into her pie.


There was a quick knock on Eliza’s office door, as Eliza scooped up a large pile of books and parchment.

“Come in!” Eliza called as she shifted the pile in her arms in order to check to make sure her wand was within reach, just in case.

Harry pulled open her door and came in.

“I was just putting this away,” she informed him, “Go ahead and take a seat.”

Harry sat down, on the floor, grinning, “I’ve met very few people who call taking a seat, sitting on the floor,” he remarked lightly.

“Don’t be offended by it,” Eliza grinned back, arranging the pile on a shelf, “I’m not most people. It’s a fact I’ve had to learn to except.”

She slipped to the ground herself, and wordlessly, they began.

Eliza attacked sharply, putting more force behind it than normal. She caught sight of Harry’s cousin before she was shoved back and out.

Eliza’s vision cleared, and she blinked at Harry, “You’ve been practicing, haven’t you?” she asked, approval thick in her voice.

Harry nodded, and Eliza smiled, “That was very good. I shouldn’t have been able to see anything at all, but that was a definite improvement. Let’s try again.”

They did, and again, and again, and again. There was a marked improvement on Harry’s work. He successfully kept her from seeing anything three times in a row, but he grew tired and less focused as the night went on, allowing her to get further in each time.

Eliza pulled off, nodding, “That’s enough for this week. However, what I do want you to practice on is lying.”

Harry stared at her, clearly surprised.

Eliza grinned, “Just to me, though. This week, I’ll ask you questions. Ones with obvious answers, such as ‘what color is the sky?’ and similar. I want you to give me a false answer, for example, you answer my question with ‘orange’. I want to not see the actual truth behind your eyes. Just do what you do here. Clear your mind and set a defense. Also, a nice image of an orange sky would be very good.”

Harry nodded, “So you just want me to lie to you?”

Eliza grinned, “Just about that. I expect honesty for everything else.”


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Old July 18th, 2005, 5:00 pm
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Chapter Thirty-Seven

That Saturday, Eliza brushed herself off as she stepped out of the fireplace of 12 Grimmauld’s Place. Yawning, she tucked some stray hairs behind her ears, where they immediately slipped out again.

Remus was the only one in the kitchen, and he looked up to smile at Eliza as she slipped onto the bench beside him.

“You look about what I feel,” Eliza confided tiredly.

Remus, having suffered through full moon a couple of nights previously, laughed. He looked extremely tired, and his hand was shaking slightly as he shuffled through the reports.

“I actually don’t feel too bad,” he admitted, looking a her closely, “Long week?”

“You could say that,” she said, propping her chin up on her hand, “That potion took it out of me, and I haven’t slept too well besides.”

Remus nodded sympathetically, “It’s not your fault, Lize.”

Eliza blinked, sitting up, “What do you mean?” she asked, innocently.

“Don’t do that, it really isn’t. You shouldn’t beat yourself up about this woman’s death. She wasn’t dead just to play you; Dumbledore thinks she died because of information she may have had.”

“Dumbledore thinks,” Eliza muttered, studying the worn table top.

Remus grinned at her, “And he’s most likely right. She was an Unspeakable, remember? I wouldn’t be surprised if Voldemort’s trying to find another copy of the Prophecy. There isn’t one, of course, which he should know by now, but he probably wanted to find out.”

Eliza sighed, “You’re probably right, but I keep thinking that if maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t in hiding, then would she still be alive?”

Remus put a hand on her arm , “You don’t have a choice. You know that, and I know that. James would never have let you not go in hiding. He was too protective of you. In fact, you, Lily, and Harry were the only ones he would have protected that fully. Don’t get me wrong, he would have protected the rest of us with his life, but you three were the ones that he’d rather die than have any of you harmed at all. Besides, he was very stubborn.”

Eliza nodded. There wasn’t a point in arguing, so she’d let it pass.

Remus, accepting this, changed the subject, “Speaking of Harry, how’s his Occlumency going?”

Eliza propped her chin in her hand again, and answered, “He’s doing very well. He still has a lot to learn, but he’ll have the basics mastered by Christmas.”

Remus gave her a sidelong glance, “And then?”

Eliza bit her lip, “And then he’s going to have to learn what my mother and her mother taught me.”

He nodded, “So that’s what you think it is?”

Eliza laughed, “Yes, it has to be, but I’ll explain it to him when he...”

“When he finds out who you are?”

Eliza nodded, “I’ll have to. I can’t explain it till then because it’s up to him to find out who I am now.”

He smiled, “Well, I wouldn’t be surprised if Hermione already knew.”

She grinned, “Neither would I, but I think she wait until he finds out. It shouldn’t take too long.”

After that, they sat in a comfortable silence while the rest of the Order members filtered in. Joan sat beside Eliza, and John and Jacob sat across from them.

The meeting was called to order, and Snape stood up to present his report about the body. Every so often, a member or two of the Order would glance across to Eliza, watching her expression. Eliza kept it determinedly blank, watching Severus speak as if she were enthralled in it.

Severus finished his bit, and Dumbledore stood up to explain Kallie Shaw’s possible significance to Voldemort.

“We will need some more information about Ms. Shaw,” Dumbledore concluded after explaining what he had explained to Eliza, Severus, Poppy, and Minerva a few nights prior to the meeting.

“So, the body was not Elizabeth Potter’s body?” Dorothy asked, distastefully.

“No, it was not,” Dumbledore acknowledged, politely.

Jacob made a face at Eliza, mimicking Dorothy’s question softly so none but those closest could hear, “So, the body was not Elizabeth Potter’s body?” His voice was so similar to hers, it was uncanny.

Eliza struggled to keep her face straight as she turned back to Kingsley, who was reporting something about Fudge.


“Elizabeth, could I have a word?” Dumbledore asked, after the meeting.

Eliza, startled, nodded.

“Meet me in my office, then, in five minutes.”

“What’s that about?” Remus asked Eliza, turning from his conversation with John.

Jacob, John, and Joan turned to look at Eliza, who shrugged.

“I’m not sure. I should probably get going.”


Eliza stood, watching the walls spiral away and towards her again, waiting for the Headmaster’s door to come into her vision. When the staircase halted, Eliza took a deep breath, stepped off, and knocked on the door with the brass knocker. The heavy door swung open, and Eliza went in.

“Ah, Elizabeth, I’m glad you could make it,” Dumbledore’s voice came from behind his desk.

Eliza bit back a smart remark, and instead replied, “What was it you needed to see me about, Albus?”

The headmaster lifted a piece of parchment from his desk and wordlessly passed it to Eliza.

Dear Headmaster Albus Dumbledore,

You will remember the inspection that your Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Elizabeth Smythe, went under. We are sorry to report you that Professor Smythe has not received a satisfactory report. However, the Ministry questions whether or not that inspection was conducted competently. As such, with your permission, we request to reinspect Elizabeth Smythe. The Inspector that will conduct this inspection hopefully will receive more reliable information. The Inspector’s name is Jeremiah Yonders.

Thank you for your time, and have a pleasant evening.


Eliza lowered the letter, and raised an eyebrow at the headmaster.

“The Ministry questions whether or not that inspection was conducted competently?” Eliza quoted incredulously, “Then why did they send that.... if they wanted to have a competent inspection?”

Dumbledore smiled faintly, but pretended as though he did not hear Elizabeth’s remark, “The Ministry Official, Mr. Jeremiah Yonders, will be arriving Monday morning.”

Eliza scowled at the letter in her hands, “Does that mean I need to ask Snape for some of that potion?”

“Hopefully, that will not be necessary. Given the state of things, you will need a clear head. That also means you need to keep your temper. If you fail this inspection, that means you will not be able to teach any longer. You need to stay a professor in this school, Elizabeth.”

Eliza sighed, “Fine. I won’t argue that point. I just hope Mr. Yonders is more intelligent than that Anton man. By the way, Professor, who is Jeremiah Yonders.”

Dumbledore handed Eliza another sheet of parchment, “This is all the information I could get. I do not recognise the name, but he is your age and was born in Bristol. He couldn’t have gone to Hogwarts under this name.”

Eliza read the parchment slowly. There was nothing more than his date of birth, the location of birth, and his parents’ names.

“If he’s British, he would have gone to Hogwarts,” Eliza thought quickly, “Is it possible he changed his name after getting out of Hogwarts? Do you have a list of wizards my age who have disappeared?”

Dumbledore smiled, and passed Eliza yet another piece of parchment, “Of course.”

Eliza scanned the list it was short, with only five names, but three of them being female, and one of those three being her own, it left her with two names. One of them was very familiar, the other not so much.

“Alec Blatan, and wait... Adam? Adam Olsen?” Eliza raised her eyebrows, “When did he disappear?”

“Three years after you did. Here’s a picture of Mr. Blatan,” Dumbledore passed her another piece of paper, this one a picture of a thin wizard, about eighteen. He had curling brown hair and bright blue eyes. The image of Adam Olsen in Eliza’s head hung. He had blonde hair and eyes that changed from bright green to bright blue to hazel, depending on his mood.

Eliza bit her lip, “So, will it either be Alec or Adam?”

Dumbledore replied, “Most likely. We will not eliminate the idea of another wizard.”

Eliza nodded.


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Old July 31st, 2005, 3:00 am
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Chapter Thirty-Eight Part One

Eliza sat in her class room, correct papers. It was Monday morning, and after having had a quick breakfast, she had run to her class room, hoping to be able to get some last minute work done before Mr. Jeremiah Yonders arrived.

She woke up early, used the candle exercise, and chased Mischief across the castle, hoping to locate her cat so the kitten wouldn’t show up in Eliza’s classroom halfway through class, mewing for food.

Now she waited, trying to keep her mind clear except for her task. Despite her efforets, anxiety still rolled through her stomach. There was a tap on her door, and Eliza looked up, and nerves flooded her. Eliza took a deep breath, put the feelings of anxiety and nervousness out of her firmly, and called, “Please come in!” and checked to make sure her wand was at hand.

The door opened, and Harry stepped in. Involuntarily, Eliza smiled. “What is it, Harry?”

“I thought I should talk to you now,” Harry said, glancing over his shoulder, “Since I heard that you had an inspection again this week. The inspector’s down talking to Dumbledore, so I thought...”

“You could catch me until I had a semipermanent shadow?” Eliza asked shrewdly.

Harry nodded, “I was wondering about Occlumency lessons,” he hesitated.

“This one on Friday will be with Dumbledore. He thinks that if I’m being shadowed by the Ministry, it would be best.”

Harry nodded.

Eliza studied him carefully, “Is that all, Harry? Or did you need something else?”

Harry hesitated, “Well, I was also wondering-”

Eliza wasn’t to find out what he was wondering as a firm tap on the door rang in her ears.

“Later, then,” Eliza whispered before calling out, “Come in!”

As the door opened, Eliza turned back to Harry, “I hope that answers your question, Mr. Potter,” she said pointedly, “Do you have any more questions on the essay?”

Harry, understanding answered respectfully, “No, Professor. Thank you.”

Eliza nodded, and stood up, turning to the man who stood at the door, “Hello,” she said politely, extending a hand, “Professor Eliza Smythe.”

The man had dark brown hair and hazel eyes, “Jeremiah Yonders,” he said, returning the hand shake, “I’m very pleased to meet you.”

I’m sure you are, a voice in her head muttered darkly, and Eliza smiled, “Pleased to meet you as well.”

Harry, who had moved over towards his desk during the introduction, rumaged in his bag, pulling out his wand and books slowly and deliberately. He shot Eliza a puzzled look, and Eliza returned it while Mr. Yonders’s back was turned.

“I’m sorry for the inconvenience,” the man said, studying the room, as if looking for clues as to what information he needed on the walls. The room was rather plain. There were books with Defense counter-jinxes and jinxes in them, a couple of beat up Dark Detectors Eliza had run into, and nothing more than what had been here when she’d come.

Eliza didn’t reply, biting back a retort she would have given normally, clearing her mind as she turned back to her desk. A couple students slipped into the room, staring at Jeremiah Yonders as he prowled the room. The rest of the class trickled in, and finally, Mr. Yonders took his seat in the very back of the room.

After class, Eliza would admit that the class was rather dull, but she had decided that having the students work on duelling might not be the best idea with a ministry official present. Instead, Eliza had them read about a chapter about blocking Dark jinxes, and sent them to writing a fifteen inch essay about it.

Mr. Yonders got up and quietly began talking to different students as they finished reading and started to get out their parchment and quills.

“Do you think that Professor Smythe is a good teacher?” he asked Ernie as he started to uncork his ink bottle.

With the eyes of the class on him, Ernie nodded firmly, “She’s one of the best we’ve had,” he said stoutly.

Mr. Yonders nodded, and moved on to Hermione, who had already started her essay, “What has Professor Smythe taught you this year, so far?”

Hermione not even setting down her quill replied, “All sorts. She’s taught us about defending ourselves against Dementors, about the Unforgiveable Curses, and some about dueling.”

Making notes, Jeremiah Yonders moved through the entire class, asking all of them something or another about her. Eliza kept her eyes on the essays she was correcting, although she gave some of the students half-smiles.

That’s how the rest of the day went.



“So, how’s your inspection going?” Professor Sinistra asked through a bite of Shephard’s pie.

Eliza shook her head as she poured herself a mug of hot chocolate, “The sooner it’s over with, the sooner we can move on, right?”

Sinistra laughed, “That’s not so bad, is it? I mean, if I asked you that question last time, you would have bitten my head off and eaten it in place of your pie!”

Eliza smiled feebly. It was true, that these inspections weren’t nearly as bad as the last ones. For one thing, dealing with Yonders wasn’t anything like dealing with Anton. Anton had, frankly, been an idiot who should never have been let anywhere away from home without his Mum to hold his hand. Yonders, however, was actually intelligent and knew what he was talking about.

Severus, who had been listening in on the conversation commented, “So you don’t need any potion?”

“No, I don’t,” Eliza replied, stabbing a peice of meat viciously.

“Good, because that potion needs three months to sit, and you used up my stock,” he continued, seeming slightly disappointed she didn’t need it.

“You are as helpful as always, Snape,” Eliza replied dryly.

It was Tuesday night, and all of her lessons had gone just as her first. She’d teach, and when the students were working, Jeremiah Yonders would walk around, asking questions to each student. All things considered, it wasn’t too horrible, but the fact that Eliza didn’t know who this man was, or what he wanted, was irksome.

“Tomorrow’s Halloween,” Professor Sinistra announced cheerfully.

Eliza blinked, she had forgotten again.

“Oh,” she replied; it was all she could think of.

In truth, Halloween had once been one of her more favorite holidays, besides Christmas. Of course, it would always be marked with a dark shadow, considering what had happened fifteen years ago, but she still enjoyed it when she pushed past the memories. This one would also be marred by the fact that she was being followed around by an unidentified ministry official with a clipboard.

Understanding part of her friend’s silence, Professor Sinistra smiled, “Maybe if we can get you away from Mr. Yonders, you might be able to enjoy it a bit. There’s always the feast, of course, and all that goes along with that.”

Eliza nodded, grinning at her friend, more for Sinistra than for herself.


As soon as she left the Great Hall, Eliza found herself being cornered by that one ministry official with a clipboard.

“Good evening, Professor Smythe,” the man said, nodding kindly.

“Evening,” Eliza replied, stiffness creeping into her voice.

However, Mr. Yonders wasn’t fazed, “Good, good. I’ve been hoping to get a chance to talk to you. Between your classes, and working on lessons, it’s no wonder that there hasn’t been a chance to talk to you.”

Eliza nodded courteously, finding that the effort hurt slightly, “Of course not, Mr. Yonders.”

Jeremiah beamed, not seeming to notice Eliza’s coldness, “Of course, indeed,” he said agreeably.

Eliza forced a smile as Jeremiah led the way to her office. Eliza walked a step behind him, studying him. His walk was familiar... but was he really Adam? Shaking her head, Eliza followed him through the corridors.

They stopped at her office, which Eliza opened. She lit the lamp, sat behind her desk, and then conjured up a chair for him to sit in. In her opinion, it was her way of controlling the meeting. It wasn’t much, but Eliza had a desire to prove to him that he was the one entering her territory, and she wouldn’t be controlled in her own office.

Mr. Yonders beamed as he sat down, “Well, Professor Smythe, let’s see.”


A/N: Feedback is more than welcome! :P


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Old September 4th, 2005, 12:56 am
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Chapter Thirty Eight Part Two

“Let’s see,” he repeated, pulling his clipboard from the inside of his cloak. Mischief slunk from behind my desk and leapt up onto his lap, purring. We both stared at my kitten, in surprise, but he reached over and stroked her head.

Unwillingly, Eliza relaxed slightly. As Yonders turned back towards Eliza, she met his eyes squarely.

“Your name is Elizabeth Smythe?” He intoned, running his quill across his clipboard.

“Correct,” Eliza said stoutly as he checked something off.

“You taught at a Wizarding school a few years ago for a few years?”

“Yes, I did.”

The questions continued like that for sometime, the only other noise than the questions and answers were Mischief’s purring and the ticking of the clock by Eliza’s desk.

“Why did you choose to take this job, given its history?”

Eliza gave him a hard look, to which he smiled slightly, “Surely you’ve heard of it?”

Eliza straightened, brushing the wrinkles out of the material across her legs, “I promised Dumbledore that I would take the job for him a few years ago.”

Yonders studied Eliza for a moment, and Eliza felt the tension creep back into her shoulders, “I see. And where were you last year when Dumbledore had to turn to the Ministry’s help for someone to fill the vacancy?”

Eliza twisted a stretch of material around her fingers, “I told Albus that I would take the job this year, and not earlier. I had other business to attend to last year.”

“Which was?”

Eliza stared at him levelly until his face tinted red and he muttered something about not needing the answer.

Finally, he stood up, setting Mischief down gently. He reached across Eliza’s desk and shook her head, “Thank you, madam.”

Eliza nodded, and led him to the door, which she opened, “Sleep well,” Eliza said politely. As she watched him go, a thought crossed her mind It really is Adam. But what is he doing here?

Shaking her head, she turned back into her office and shut the door.


Halloween morning dawned bright and clear, with the smells of a feast in production rushing through the hallways.

Eliza decided that had there not been a ministry official in the back corner of her classes, she would have had a bit of trouble keeping order. She had a little trouble any way, but Mr. Yonders, coughed anytime the class began to get out of hand, sending most of them starting, glancing back into the corner, and clamping their mouths shut.

That night was the feast, which meant that as soon as classes were over, it was a time for celebration. Eliza, who had always loved Halloween, with the exception of one particularly dark one fifteen years prior, had always thoroughly enjoyed them. She tossed the ungraded essays into a drawer and swung it shut, let Mischief out to explore the castle, as she always did, then dashed down to the Great Hall, a wide smile on her face.

When she reached her seat in the Great Hall, she slipped in it, only to be given a disgruntled look from Severus Snape.

“Yes?” Eliza asked, pouring herself a goblet of Pumpkin Juice.

He glowered at her, and she smiled, pouring him a goblet of the juice as well, “Rough day?” she asked teasingly as she forced the goblet into his hand.

“No thanks to your-” he lowered his voice “-nephew.”

At that, Eliza laughed, “You let a boy his age ruffle your feathers that much, Professor? Why, I must say, that in my day-”

“Shut up Potter,” he hissed quietly.

At that, Eliza jumped, Potter? What is he playing at? “Yes, sir,” she muttered, turning away from him. If he wanted to be bad tempered, let him be bad tempered.

They were some of the first ones to arrive at the Head Table, but soon their colleagues began to fill in the chairs surrounding them, as the students filled their House Tables. Eliza spotted Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, and a few others as they sat down at the Gryffindor Table. She saw Harry shoot Snape a dark look, but give Eliza an innocent smile when he saw her watching. Eliza’s face relaxed back into a smile, and she nodded at him.

“I haven’t been to a Hogwarts feast in years,” a male voice said cheerfully as the man belonging to it slipped into the seat beside her. It was Yonders. Adam.

“That is Professor Sinistra’s seat,” Eliza said automatically. Dumbledore would have invited him to the feast, wouldn’t he? But, if she could help it, she would not be the one to sit beside him.

“She’s sitting over there,” he replied, gesturing over to the seat between Flitwick and Hagrid.

Eliza looked, and sure enough, she was sitting there, Eliza raised her eyebrows, and her friend grimaced and mouthed “sorry.” Eliza winced, and nodded, excepting the apology, now resigned to the fact that she was trapped sitting between the two men that she would prefer to be a few thousand miles away from: the ministry official who was inspecting her, and a rather grouchy Severus Snape.

After students had finally stopped trickling into the Great Hall and to their seats, and when all the staff were seated in their places (or in the places they had adopted for the feast), food filled the tables, and Eliza found herself distracted by the wide array of food surrounding her. After filling her plate with pumpkin bread, mashed potatoes, some type of meat, and some other foods, Eliza glared at her plate, not looking at the men on either side of her. The fuller she became, however, the more she relaxed. The same held true for Snape and Yonders (or Olsen).

“It really is amazing, isn’t it?” Yonders asked, leaning back.

“Sorry?” Eliza asked, ripping off a piece of her bread.

“Hogwarts, I mean,” he said, grinning as he lifted his goblet to his mouth.

“Of course,” Eliza said, keeping her voice stiff.

He eyed her carefully and sighed, “Look,” he said quietly, so the professors surrounding them couldn’t hear, “I don’t mean you any harm. I’m just doing my job.”

“As am I,” Eliza flatly replied, taking a drink from her goblet.

As the desserts replaced the rest of the food, Jeremiah shook his head, and replied, “You’re only stuck with me in your classroom tomorrow, and then I’ll be gone. If I ever see you again, I expect you to hold no animosity against me, okay?”

Liza blinked, “You believe that I’m holding animosity against you?” she asked, drawing her eyebrows down and together.

The man shrugged, “It would be only natural. I expect nothing less. It’s nothing personal.”

Eliza pursed her lips into a straight line, schooling her face, and trying not to laugh, “Of course not, Mr. Yonders,” she said politely when she had recovered her voice.

A/N: *ducks head* I know, it’s a horribly short update that took me a horribly long time to post... sorry... If you post feedback you'll get a longer update, sooner!


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Old September 13th, 2005, 9:21 pm
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Chapter Thirty-Eight Part Three

It was Friday afternoon, and Eliza, taking full advantage of her break, was passing the time grading essays. Mischief padded through the room, jumping on shelves and stalking shadows. The clock ticked, and Eliza’s quill scratched across parchment in between the shuffling of essays.

The morning had passed relatively uneventfully, with the exception of Snape (to quote Sinistra) who was acting as if someone had forced him to eat doxy droppings.

Eliza paused, her quill suspended over one of her N.E.W.T.s student’s essay about Dementors, listening intently. She seemed to have heard, nearly just felt... something...

And her office door opened. Eliza resumed scratching on the parchment, writing a neat “E” on the top of the paper, pretending not to have noticed the disturbance. She shuffled for papers, peeking at the intruder over her glasses. Jeremiah Yonders stood, leaning against the doorframe of her office, watching her.

“Lize,” he said quietly.

Eliza’s stomach tightened, and she scribbled an “O” on the top of her nephew’s essay.

“Liza,” he repeated.

Eliza moved to Hermione Granger’s essay, scanning the neat writing, trying not to grasp her wand and point it in the man’s face.

“Eliza,” he shut the door, and his voice lowered, “Potter.”

Eliza, her face hidden behind Miss Granger’s essay, squeezed her eyes tight. Opening them, she lowered the essay and squarely met Yonders’s eyes.

“Adam Olsen,” she said, a fist tightening under her desk.

Adam smiled, “You would have recognised me, wouldn’t you?”

Eliza frowned, “It would have been easier if you had not been under an assumed name.”

Adam grinned, sitting on the chair beside Eliza’s desk, “And you have room to talk, m’dear?”

Eliza, choosing to ignore this, shot, “Do you make it a habit to inspect old school mates posing as a ministry official?”

“I am a ministry official.”

“You’re name is not Jeremiah.”

Adam smiled, tossing back his head, his green eyes catching the firelight, “No, it is not.”

“Does the ministry know about this?”

Adam laughed, “It honestly depends on how you define ‘the ministry’. The head of my department knows, and a few above him know.”

“But... why?”

Adam’s face grew serious, “My school mates were gone. Frank was in the hospital, so was Alice. You had disappeared, labeled as a Death Eater. Trent had an accident working for Gringotts. I was never friends with Remus. Everyone I’d ever cared about was gone some way or another. So I left. And when I came back, I didn’t want to return to my life as Adam Olsen.”

Eliza glared at him, “So you ran away! You thought the world had turned on you, so you ran away!”

“And what do you call what you did? You were gone when everyone you loved was as well. What about Remus? You left him to rot in a flat, living as a werewolf without a solid source of income, and you loved him!” He sneered.

“I didn’t leave because I wanted to! Believe me, if I could have stayed, I would have,” Eliza felt her temper rising.

“If you had truly wanted to stay, Elizabeth, then you would have stayed!”

“Don’t call me that!” Eliza shouted.

“Then I won’t, Liza,” he replied, his voice soft as his smile.

Eliza then became aware that she was standing, holding her wand, pointing it at Adam’s chest.

“You’re still under Dumbledore’s wing, aren’t you?” He asked, tilting his head, considering her.

“Yes,” Eliza said, her voice cool.

He shook his head, “You’re only in more danger there than if you’d step away from the war the best anyone can.”

“I’ll always be on the front line in this war, Adam,” she said softly, smiling as their old argument took root. Adam had always thought her a fool to stand in the line of fire in this war, fighting Voldemort face to face. It wasn’t that he sided with Voldemort, but he’d rather try to remain completely out of it. Not that that ever worked. “My nephew is stuck in the line of fire, and if you think I’d abandon my family to that, you don’t truly know you.”

Surprisingly, Adam didn’t argue back but sighed, “So that’s that, isn’t it? You’d never abandon family to that, but you’d abandon the rest of us to life without you if you died?”

Eliza smiled, “Exactly.”

Adam smiled, “You passed your inspection, Liza. Hopefully we’ll meet again soon.”

Before she could stop him, he put his arms around her and kissed her on the cheek.

Eliza poked him with her wand, leaving a burn mark on his cloak, “Goodbye, Adam,” she said firmly, prodding him out the door.

Shaking her head, she shut the door firmly.



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Old October 27th, 2005, 9:41 pm
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A/N: It seems like I'm endlessly apologizing for the gap between each update... Please post Feeback
Chapter Thirty Nine Part One

The next morning, Eliza was to be found in her room, searching the wardrobe for her cloak. She pushed through her new robes only to find her old robes. Way back in the corner, on the floor, sat her ragged cloak. It was patched and darned beyond recognition, and was so stained and darned so that it was difficult, if even possible, to recognised the previous color (which was grey).

She threw the cloak over her shoulder, checked on her kitten (who was once again stalking invisible rodents), locked the door, and left.

She moved quickly down the corridor, down the stair cases, and across the Entrance Hall, only to be stopped by a harrassed looking Argus Filch.

“Name?” He snapped the question, not even looking at her.

“Elizabeth Smythe,” she said, amused, raising an eyebrow at the caretaker.

“Your not on the list, go back to your dorm,” he said abruptly.

“I teach here.”

Filch eyed her warily, and finally waved her off.

Trying not to laugh, Eliza slipped through the doors and across the grounds, wrapping her cloak around herself.

Upon entering Hogsmeade, Eliza breathed a sigh of relief, shaking off the feeling of being caged. She hurried down the street, letting herself take in everything. In truth, she felt like a student again, wanting to run everywhere at once. Silently laughing at herself, she slipped into the packed Three Broomsticks.

She scanned the packed room, as she moved forwards. She saw a certain figure sitting in a rather unnoticeable spot. The man inclined his head, barely glancing at her.

Eliza grinned and slipped up to the bar to order two butterbeers. Madam Rosmerta smiled at her as she passed the drinks to her.

“How is teaching?”

“Very nice, thank you,” Eliza replied, smiling back, but before either woman could say anything else, Eliza was swept down and away by the pushing customers.

When she reached the table where the figure sat, she found him surrounded by Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Hermione shot her a mistrustful look, Harry grinned at her, and Ron gave her an awkward half-smile, clearly unsure whether or not he was happy to see her.

Eliza sat down, slipping into the only empty seat, one between Remus and Hermione. Hermione looked away from her, and Remus smiled.

“Hello, Lize,” he said, quietly.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Lupin,” she replied lightly, passing him a butterbeer.

She could feel Hermione’s stare as she smiled and said, “Hello, Ron, Hermione, Harry.”

“Hello Professor,” they murmured in unison.

Remus and Eliza exchanged looks, and Eliza settled back, sipping the warming liquid.

There was silence for a moment, before Remus smiled warmly and said, “I’ve heard you had an interesting week.”

Eliza groaned, and the trio laughed, “I suppose you could say that,” Eliza said hesitantly before shaking her head, “It was very odd, but we can talk about it later.”

Taking the hint, Remus nodded, and said, “As long as no one is dead.” Laughter, “I’m hoping anyway.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Eliza assured Remus. Turning to Harry, she asked, “How was your lesson with Dumbledore?”

Harry shrugged, “It went pretty well. Dumbledore said he’d have to talk to you. I’m not sure about what, but he said that I’d gone far.”

A sinking feeling dipped into Eliza’s stomache and she sighed, “Good.”

She was all to aware of Hermione and Remus watching her carefully, Hermione suspicious, Remus supporting.



Eliza and Remus left the pub not too long afterwards, after Harry and his friends had left.

“What happened?” Remus asked when they touched the streets.

“I’ll talk to you about it tonight,” she said, her control not as complete as it had been earlier, and her voice wavered slightly. Just slightly.

Remus shot her a quick look, but then changed the subject. Eliza found herself in a very quiet Zonko’s joke shop. Only a couple students came in and out, most of them without purchases.

“The Weasley twin have taken the joke market and made it their own,” Remus murmured in her ear.

Eliza blinked, and nodded in agreement, “Clearly,” she murmured back as she made her way to one of the shelves.

With the shop owner watching her intently, Eliza found herself buying several objects of various uses just to get him to stop glowering at her before being hustled out of the shop by an impatient Remus.

Eliza glanced at him, and Remus, not looking at her, breathed, “Just don’t ask.”Feeback


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Old December 21st, 2005, 9:59 pm
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Re: Only Family

A/N: It's been too long, I realise, and this is too short, I realise that too. What with the holiday, I should be able to get you an update before the new year. I say should. Please post Feedback!

Chapter Thirty-Nine part two

Eliza shook out her robes after being thrown into the darkened room. Ashes spilled from them and fell to the floor, where she vanished them. She slipped locks of her rebellious hair back into her bun, scanning the empty room. Which was just that. Empty.

Slipping easily across the room, she moved silently into the hall, down into the kitchen. This room was occupied only Remus.

Remus glanced up as she entered the room, looking puzzled.

“Hello, Eliza.”

“Evening,” she said, slipping onto the bench across the table from him.

He shuffled the parchment tiredly, sat it down beside him, and asked, “So?”

“So what?” she asked, watching the fire in the grate dance merrily, “Why did I come through the other fire?”

“They’re playing with our Floo system... I’m not entirely sure why, but Albus decided it was needed.”

Eliza laughed softly.

“So, Eliza? Adam?”

Eliza started. She had nearly forgot.

“Liza?” He gave her a strange look.

She bit her lip, thinking, “I suppose it begins with this... Dumbledore called me to his office that night, remember? It was because I had a ministry inquisition. Again. Anyway, he warned me that the ministry official’s identity was not entirely correct-”

She recounted the entire tale, watching Remus’s still face carefully.

At the end of her story, Remus’s face darkened, even with Eliza omitting what Remus didn’t need to know.

“Did he touch you?” He asked, his eyes searching her face.

Eliza stared at his serious face, and finally cracked up.

He blinked, and he relaxed slightly.

When she stopped laughing, she wiped her eyes, “You sounded like James just then.”

A smile started on his face, which he pushed away, “Don’t insult me!”

They both laughed.

“But seriously, Eliza, are you sure?”

Eliza shook her head, “It’s fine Remus. He is a decent person, despite what you like to think.”

Remus gave her a questioning look.

Eliza bit her lip, “Are you feeling well? You’re not acting normally,” she said flatly.

Remus sighed, suddenly acting more normally, “It’s just... Eliza, look at it this way. We haven’t any way to tell if he’s actually trustworthy. He has too much of an advantage over us. Over you. He knows the truth, Eliza. How much of an effort would it take him to turn you in? Not much at all. That could land you in Azkaban or worse.”

Eliza stared at him, “So you want me to be a good little girl, and not do anything to annoy poor Adam?”

“Something like that.”

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Old December 23rd, 2005, 9:19 pm
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Re: Only Family

A/N: Suprise suprise! Another update so close to the one previous? *everyone faints* Enjoy and please leave Feedback!

Chapter Forty

The next week dragged by. In comparison to the week previous, it was quite uneventful, even for Hogwarts. The worst that happened was the two Quidditch teams of Gryffindor and Hufflepuff contended hotly with each other, in light of the upcoming match on the approaching Saturday. The professors were tired of trying to sort through the small insidents.

Eliza, however, enjoyed it slightly. In her mind, it was one of the many things in this school that would never change. Besides, she was eager to see Quidditch played for the first time in fifteen years. They had not played it at the wizarding school she had taught at in her exile.

“Are you going to the game today?” Those were the first words out of Professor Sinistra’s mouth.

Eliza paused for a moment, took a drink of cocoa and took a bite of toast before answering. For a moment she chewed thoughtfully before nodding, “Yes, I suppose I will.”

Sinistra laughed, “You don’t sound too enthusiastic there, Professor.”

If you only knew, Eliza thought amusedly as she pondered her next answer, “It’s just, I haven’t seen a Quidditch game for so long, I wonder if it’s as... exciting as I seem to remember it.”

Sinistra smiled, “Well, I’m sure it won’t disappoint you too horribly. I must admit, we do have some rather talented students in this school.”

Eliza smiled, “I hope so”, she replied as Snape sat down beside her.

“Are you prepared for the Quidditch game, Smythe?”

Eliza smiled, “I do hope so, Snape,” she said graciously before standing up, “Now, if you will excuse me, I’ll go make sure I am prepared, thank you.”

Sinistra stood with her, “I’ll go with you,” and they walked away. As soon as they were out of ear shot, Sinistra whispered, “I just didn’t want to be left with him.”

Eliza smiled, “I can’t say I blame you. He did seem slightly testy, didn’t he?”

“Quite,” and the women laughed.


A couple hours later, Eliza found herself sitting in the stands, by in a large group of staff. A few of the staff were sprinkled out among the students, like Hagrid for example, but a majority of them were here, where she was.

Eliza relaxed, perhaps more than she had in several years. Just seeing the Quidditch field, being at a game, even if she wasn’t playing, was better for her than a large cup of hot cocoa on a winter morning.

The captains shook hands, the snitch was released, and the game began. The announcer began in a booming voice, which Eliza, immediately blocked out. The Quaffel passed hands, switched teams, went through goal posts in an acceptable speed while Bludgers pelted threw the air, changing directions when hit with a club with a resounding CRACK!. But Eliza, having been trained as a Seeker all those years ago, kept a silent watch for a tiny ball with wings, just as the two seekers were.

Harry hovered over the game, his poise alert, his head constantly moving, his eyes presumably searching every inch for that small glint of gold every seeker knew so well. Eliza switched her search for the Snitch to watch Harry carefully. She had been told for years, ever since Harry had come to Hogwarts, that he flew just like his father and she had. Watching him, she realised this was correct. He flew easily, looking as if he had been born on a broom.

After nearly an hour of just observing, Eliza allowed herself to get caught up in the game. She knew she wanted Gryffindor to win, that much was clear, but Eliza cheered for both, as every professor should. No matter who made the goal, Eliza cheered. However, Eliza always kept one eye on the Seekers and another on the Chasers, with the Beaters sneeking in to her gaze once in a while.

Then a glint of gold. Both Seekers sped for it, and the entire game seemed to stop but for this one bit. Everyone stood, the anxiety tight. Despite herself, Eliza grinned. This was why she had always loved Seeking. As a Seeker, you controlled the climax of the game. The two shapes, one scarlet, the other yellow drew closer to the flitting glint of gold. Yellow pulled ahead, then Scarlet... and they both pulled out of the dive, the Scarlet figure with his arm up, his hand clenched into a fist around a small glint of gold. The stands were instantly chaos, half cheering, the other half shaking their fists.

Eliza laughed.


“That was a good performance last Saturday,” Eliza congradulated.

Harry grinned, nodding, “Thank you, Professor, you went?”

Eliza laughed, moving through the stone room, “I wouldn’t miss it. I’ve always loved Quidditch. It’s a shame it’s been so long since I played. It was a good game.”

Harry nodded, looking thoughtful, “What position did you play, Professor?”

“Me? Seeker. And I loved it.”

Harry nodded again, still looking thoughtful.

“I suppose we should start our lesson, Mr. Potter,” Eliza said quietly, sitting down across from Harry.

“Yes, I think we should.”

The Occlumency lesson went well, Eliza decided. Too well, perhaps. Harry was improving quite a bit, and while Eliza was proud of this fact, it also made her anxious. It wouldn’t be too long, and Harry would have to know.


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Old June 27th, 2006, 4:05 pm
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Re: Only Family

A/N: Please don't hurt me. I will be updating regularly for the next few months. You know how the drill goes. Read and review!

Chapter Forty, Part Two

The next several weeks passed, and November slipped away as December made itself prominent. Eliza slipped back into the cycle of teaching, grading, eating, and sleeping without much thought. Naturally, she wondered about Harry’s growing quietness and whether or not Adam was going to turn her in, but other than that, she let herself mostly relax.

Then again, relaxing wasn’t the best word for it. For the last several years, Eliza had been on her toes. Now wasn’t much different. For one, the Occlumency lessons had been improving at a marvelous speed. Harry had been spending a long while in the archival section of the library, sometimes with the help of Hermione.

One night, however, Eliza found herself being tugged gently into a dream.

She was crouched behind a peice of furniture. Beside her was Harry,who didn’t seem to notice her. He was too intent on the scene, and if he did notice her, she realised, it would be very possible that he wouldn’t recognise her as his professor. Despite the alterations on her appearance in the physical world, they didn’t apply here. Except, he might recognise her still. As either herself, or the professor.

She shook this out of her head and began to watch this scene. Death Eaters. The room was full of Death Eaters. She craned her neck around the furniture and her breath went out of her body in a soft hiss. Voldemort.

They were discussing something, but the conversation at first was muted, and then, like the volume slowly being turned up on a radio by it’s dial, the conversation became more clear. An attack... somewhere, on someone. No, it was on a group of people... Muggles.

Silence!!!” came the high pitched voice. Voldemort.

The room became dead silent as the Death Eaters stopped in midword. No one dared to breath, and the two behind the sofa, Harry and Eliza didn’t move. Harry still seemed to be oblivious of her presence.

“I feel the boy!”

Harry jumped, and reached for his wand.

“And... someone... else...”

Eliza closed her eyes and reached for a void, trying to force every emotion and thought from her being. Not soon enough.

“Both of the Potters!”

Harry started again, and turned, to stare at Eliza. Eliza met his eyes. He searched her face, as if trying to comprehend her prescence. From his face, he didn’t recognize her as his Professor, but Eliza knew the work was done. Sooner or later he would recognize her as herself. She wanted to protect him from that but...

“She seems to be trying to protect him,” he sneered, “Oh dear Lizzy-” Eliza felt anger rise in her. She took a deep breath as the connection fuzzed. “Silly girl, who are you trying to protect him from? You’re own identity?”

Eliza reached within herself, the anger sliding from herself, draining away. He seemed to be feeding on it, through her connection to Harry, and Harry’s connection.

What did he despise? She knew she had to get herself and Harry out of here, before more was said, and more damage done. Not just to her secret, but to either of them. He despises love and everything similar, Dumbledore had said to her when she was a girl... That she burned with, she filled herself and transfered it to Harry. The connection between Harry and herself with Voldemort blurred. Voldemort sent pain to them, and the connection broke.


Eliza woke screaming.

Shivering, she sat up as Mischief jumped off her shelf with a hiss. She brushed her sweat soaked hair with one hand as she reached through the dark to her alarm clock... it was five in the morning. Eliza sighed. There would be no more sleep for her tonight.

She reached towards Harry with her mind gently, probing. He was awake, as was the rest of his dormitory. She sensed unrest in that room and withdrew, back to herself. She threw back her quilt and pushed her legs over the side of the bed, slipping on her slippers. She needed a bath. A long one. And then some nice hot chocolate.

She shivered again, and walked to her window. She looked across the grounds and saw that it had snowed that night. A blanket of thick snow draped and muted the grounds, softening the slope of the mountains around them.

Turning away, she caught her face in her mirror. After all the years that had passed, she seemed unable to recall her face. She hadn’t seen it for a long time. Someday she would. Maybe after the school let out for summer holiday. Maybe not even then.


Three hours later, Eliza slipped into the Great Hall. She kept her face serene, trying to look as if she’d had a full night’s peaceful sleep. She glanced around the hall as she sat in her chair. Harry sat with his friends, looking as exhausted as she felt. Ron and Hermione were exchanging worried glances, which Harry studiously ignored. He looked up at her. Eliza nodded to him before reaching for the pitcher of hot cocoa. She could feel his eyes on her face, and she filled her cup. Reaching for it, she lifted it up to her mouth. She shot a glance back to Harry. He seemed to be trying to figure out something as he watched her. As if he was very close to making a connection Eliza wasn’t sure she wanted him to make.

She swallowed the warm liquid and looked away from him. She looked instead down the staff table. Dumbledore was, once again, looking rather ill and tired. Concern filled her and she instead, turned to Snape who was lowering himself into the seat beside her.

“Look who’s finally decided to join us,” she said dryly.

“It’s not my fault a couple misbehaving fools decided to cause a bit of a fiasco last night,” he replied without blinking. Then, taking a piece of toast, shot her a sharp look.

Eliza looked down, feeling slightly abashed, “How much damage did they cause?” she asked, trying to keep her voice light.

“Nothing more than usual,” he said, his voice surprisingly gentle.

Eliza’s head snapped up at his tone, You’re more tired than you think if he can make you react that easily, she chided herself.

“Good,” she replied, feeling slightly embarrassed.

He laughed softly, “If anything, the damage was necessary. He thinks that you will never let him know.” There was no question of who “He” and “him” were. Or that they were separate identities.

She nodded, biting her lip.

“He needs to know,” he said quietly.

“I KNOW!” she hissed.

“There’s no need to release all forms of civility,” he replied, smirking at her loss of serenity.

She glared at him.

His smirk grew, “That’s better. We can’t have your students thinking there’s something majorly wrong with you. Everyone knows you cannot remain polite and civil for long.”

She reliquished the glare and forced a polite smile on her face, “And everyone knows that you are nothing more than a slimy git,” and she stood and turned away.

Snape then did something he very rarely did, and smiled out of humor.


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Old July 4th, 2006, 1:15 am
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Re: Only Family

I'm keeping my promise.

Chapter Forty-One Part One

That morning was Monday morning. That meant sixth year NEWTs. That meant she would be teaching Harry.

And that meant a double period of trying to keep from yawning.

She shook her head and sat on her desk with her defense book in hand. She sat cross legged on the desk, and nodded to each student as they trickled into the room. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were among the last to file in, moments before the sound of the bell gonged through the corridors. Bracing herself, Eliza slipped off her desk, went to the door, shut it, and turned to the class.

She laughed at the dead expressions on half of their faces. Harry was among them, but his eyes were alert.

“Good morning! It’s lovely to see how awake you are,” signal the eye rolls.

“Because of how awake you are, you wouldn’t mind taking out your books and turning them to page 295, correct?”

Groans filled the room, and Eliza smiled. She turned away from them and stifled a yawn as she walked to the board. With a flick of her wand, the chalk immediately lifted and began to write instructions on the board.

“After you’ve read pages 295 through 297, pair up and begin practicing this jinx and its counter jinx. Remember to pronounce it correctly. I know that’s a very elementary thing to remind you of, but it’s very close to a transfiguring jinx.”

A boy in back raised his hand, “What does that transfiguring jinx do, Professor?”

“Let’s hope you won’t have to find out. But if you want to become a bit of sewage, be my guest.”

The class snickered.


The class went on with their assignment. When they began pairing up, Eliza walked around, correcting them. She approached Harry and Neville, who were both catching on with the spell quite quickly.

She probed Harry’s mind gently as she corrected Neville on his wand movement.

He immediately snapped her probing and turned it against her. Eliza threw up her defense, but not before an image of the dream floated to the surface. Harry paled and backed away from her. Right into one of the torches, which fell off the bracket. Harry rolled and missed the burning torch. Eliza’s hand snapped forwards and she caught it before it hit the ground.

He stared at her as she placed the burning torch back on it’s bracket.

“Professor,” his voice was pinched, “I don’t feel well, may I have permission to leave?”

Eliza nodded, knowing that there would be nothing to gain by detaining him.

Neville, who was completely befuddled by the entire exchange, stared at Eliza in complete confusion.

“Professor?” he asked.

Eliza smiled gently, “Miss Granger doesn’t appear to have a partner yet. You may work with her.”

Hermione, who had been staring at the door in utter shock, came to her senses.

“Yes, yes , of course Professor,” she said haltingly.


When the end of class had finally come, the entire class quickly threw their books into their bags and their wands into their pockets before hurrying out the door. As they passed Eliza, Ron and Hermione, who had been conferring with one another, each shot Eliza their own puzzled/contemplating looks. She sighed, and threw her head back once the door slammed shut behind the last of her students.

Mischief slipped out of her office and bounded up onto the desk where Eliza was perched. She mewed, demanding to be petted and stepped onto her lap. Stroking her absent mindedly, she looked around the silent room.

So he knows, she thought, Or at least he has some idea that I’m his aunt she amended. She turned her head to watch her kitten stalk around the desks. But it’s only the beginning. Who knows how much I’m going to have to explain to him for his acceptance? He knows Occlumency well enough. He needs to learn Legimency, and the rest of that Art. She closed her eyes, and rocked slightly until her next class began to trickle in.


That night, at dinner, Professor Dumbledore told her to meet him in his office at eight o’clock, after dinner. She agreed to the meeting, and turned back to her food, her eyes automatically searching Harry out from the Gryffindor Table. He wasn’t their, and Hermione and Ron, sitting in their usual places, looked semi-concerned.

She bit her lip. Then she bit her steak.


“I had a visitor this morning,” Dumbledore adjusted one of the instruments on his desk.

“I can’t say I’m surprised,” Eliza replied.

“He was concerned about-” he stopped, “I’m sure you are quite aware as to what he was concerned about, are you not?”

Eliza smiled tightly, “Quite. But does he know? I mean, has he made the connection between me and the dream? And the memory of the dream?”

Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling, “Mr. Potter is a very bright young man, Professor, I assure you he can make connections as quickly as many others. Yes, he has made the connection. Whether or not he has accepted that it is the truth, or whether he has truly identified you... that remains to be seen. If you ask me, which you did, I would expect that he will be most reluctant to have your next Occlumency class with you. I will send him a note encouraging him to attend. But, yes, Eliza. Soon enough he will know. Whether tonight, or not until Thursday, that remains to be seen.”

Eliza nodded.

“Thank you for your time, Professor. And remember,” as Eliza stood up, “He’ll be going through quite the shock this week. Don’t be too hard on him.”


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