She might have made the Rune too strong, Calla thought, as the kitchen broke out into a fierce blaze. The Death Eaters yelled, scrambling away from the fire, and Calla ducked underneath the table as someone swung for her. Flames licked the wall, the ceiling, and there was a scream from upstairs, the sound of an explosion and glass shattering. This was an old house, quite possibly running on gas more than electricity, and bearing the remnants of that.

Pulling the top of her robes over her chin and mouth, Calla crawled, low to the ground, wishing she'd had some cool water to dampen the fabric. But she'd known what she was about to do, and was at least on better form than the Death Eaters around her. Smoke was starting to fill the room, although the flames itself weren't as strong. A lot of this wood was probably partly rotten; it'd smoulder like mad when it caught.

"Where is the girl?" Voldemort shouted over the crackling flames. Someone yelled, and Calla saw a sweeping hem of a robe catch alight. "Wormtail!"

Something creaked upstairs. The snake hissed. Calla kept crawling, eyes smarting from the smoke. Her wand scratched against the wooden floor and sparked. She tried not to breathe too deeply as she edged towards the floor. Something cracked - the sound of someone disapparating. People were leaving.

The door creaked open and then seemed to crash in on the floor, immediately going up in flames. Calla bit her tongue to keep from swearing. She could hear people shouting outside, voices coming closer, and pushed forwards. The Death Eaters were disappearing, scattering like ants. Voldemort was yelling for them to stay, but not all did. "Calla Potter," someone's voice hissed, clutching her wrist. "You-" Fire caught on their robes and they scrambled away.

Calla rose, still hunched, pushing towards the doorway even as her throat seemed to clog with smoke. Just a bit further, she told herself. A bit further, into fresh air, towards to town. People are coming. You're not dead yet.

"Viricaptus!" The spell rang in her ears and Calla stumbled, falling hard against the doorframe. Pain rushed up her side and she dug her fingernails into her palm, hissing as she fell through the doorway to the outside air, hacking and coughing. Every part of her was shaking, her vision swimming. She could hardly breathe, could hardly think. A flash of red light, and she fell to the grass, fire racing through her.

Stop, she pleaded with the heavy night air, but she could hardly see through the blinding pain; it seared her mind and drove away all other thoughts. Screaming tore her throat, and it was pure instinct that kept her moving, nails digging into the ground. Her knees trembled. "After her!"

Another burst of pain, seeming to explode through her forehead. She tried to rise, tried to run, but her knees gave out and she was stumbling, flailing. All she could think was stop, please. Callous hands reached for her, their touch burning. She flung her hands out and pain ripped through her again, but stopped as she threw herself to the ground, heart pounding as she slipped down the slope. Through the sting of her eyes she could make out shadows coming towards her, people.

She chanced a glance over her shoulder, saw Wormtail holding his wounded arm, saw the snake slithering a trail through the grass. Just a little further, she promised herself, stumbling to her feet. Just keep going. Just keep going then you can rest. Her chest heaved. Her legs felt on the verge of giving out right underneath her, but she couldn't let them. She panted, feet thumping. She had to keep going. She wasn't dead yet.

"Aurors!" someone yelled, and the footsteps behind her eased up, uncertain. A series of loud cracks echoed around her. There was a crash from the house, glass raining down onto the grass. The roar of flames echoed in her ears.

"Calla!" Remus's voice in the distance.

"Remus?" Her voice came out as a hoarse crack. Her head span. A hiss. The snake was getting closer. She couldn't quite see. "Remus!"

"Calla!"

She moved towards the oncoming shadows and the sound of his voice, but the snake wrapped itself around her ankles, tripping her. She fell into the grass, seeing a forest flash before her eyes. The eight figures of Voldemort seemed to fly in front of her, grey and haunting spectres, and cold slithered around her ankles and calves. Calla screamed, lurching upwards, forcing her hands down, forcing herself to stand. Strength fell from her, cold draining her senses. Her breath caught in her throat as the snake unravelled. Warm hands grabbed her and then she felt like she was being squeezed, and with a crack, it all disappeared into the hazy darkness.

Xx

Harry was on his Hospital Wing bed when Calla was carried in by Remus, his face white with terror. Relief flooded through his chest at the sight, and he lurched off his bed. Mrs Weasley and Bill held him to keep him upright. "Cal," he said hoarsely, as Madam Pomfrey hustled over and his sister was laid down in the adjacent bed. "What happened?" She looked so pale, and was awfully still. His stomach twisted. "Is she-"

"We don't know what happened," Remus said, his head bowed over the bed. "We got to the graveyard, like Harry said, there was no-one there... Then someone lit a house on fire, and she - she was running out." His voice caught raggedly on his words. Sirius stood just behind him, shaking and pale.

"Peter was there," he said quietly. "I saw him. The Aurors are still there now, but I don't know if they'll find many of the other Death Eaters. Those with sense'll have Apparated out."

"But Calla," Harry pressed, "is Calla okay?"

"You said there was a fire?" Madam Pomfrey asked sharply, pressing a hand to Calla's forehead. Remus nodded numbly. "Well, I can't see any signs of burns, but smoke inhalation can be just as dangerous. I'll have to run careful checks." Her eyes flitted to the door for only a moment, then she started to run her wand along Calla's neck. His sister jolted suddenly, letting out a gasp of pain, and went still. "And that scar..." She shook her head. Harry looked over, to see the spot on Calla's forehead where the flesh was once again raised and red, like the scar was fresh again. "Has Professor Dumbledore been informed that Miss Potter has been returned to us?"

"Filius is telling him," Remus said hoarsely.

"And this is a curse scar." Madam Pomfrey hummed lightly as she ran the tip of her wand down to hover over Calla's chest. "Yes, there's definitely some smoke inhalation, and she seems to have a few scrapes... But we don't know yet what happened." She sighed and then looked gently at Harry. "But she will be alright, Potter. She'll pull through, I can promise you that."

Hermione let out a sob next to him and Harry sank back down, staring at the ceiling. Ron clapped him on the shoulder. "It's my fault," he mumbled, an ache in his chest. "I - I couldn't hold onto her. I should have been more careful. I should have listened when - when she said to leave, not to touch the cup."

"You mustn't blame yourself, dear," Mrs Weasley told him. "And you heard Poppy; Calla will be quite alright."

"I still left her there." Harry looked away and broke off. His voice was trembling and he didn't want to cry.

"She'll be alright," Remus was murmuring quietly. "She'll be alright."

There was a knock at the door. Daphne poked her head around, looking even paler than usual, right down to her blonde hair. "Can we see her?" she asked. A second later, Padma's face appeared too, eyebrows knitted in worry.

Madam Pomfrey looked like she was about to say yes, but then Isobel MacDougal and Terry Boot also appeared, followed by Anthony Goldstein. "And exactly how many is 'we'?" she asked sharply.

"Um... Nine?"

Madam Pomfrey's mouth tightened into a thin line. "This wing is overcrowded as it is."

Daphne's mouth fell open. "But-"

"One minute." Her eyes softened. "Just to assure yourselves she is alright."

At her assent, the door all but burst as nine Ravenclaws surged in - Padma, Daphne, Isobel and Boot and Goldstein, but also Sue Li, Mandy Brocklehurst, Lisa Turpin and Michael Corner - all looking worried and tense as they hurried to her bedside.

"Is she alright?" Padma asked, eyes swimming with tears. Her gaze landed on Harry. "What happened, Harry? No-one's giving us any answers!"

"Why's she so pale?" Daphne demanded. "She looks..." She broke off, sobbing a little. Padma and Isobel were both quick to put their arms around her, but Padma, Harry noticed, was shaking even worse than Daphne.

"There was a fire," Madam Pomfrey said gently. "Beyond that, I don't yet know. But I can assure you all, Miss Potter is going to be alright."

"Her scar," Terry Boot murmured, staring at Calla's forehead. Harry felt protective anger prickle beneath his skin. "It looks sore."

"No shit," Turpin whispered, a haunted and horrified look drawn on her face.

"Watch your language in my ward, Miss Turpin," Madam Pomfrey told her sternly. "Now, out with you, she and Mr Potter both need rest and peace and quiet!"

"But we want to stay with her!" Daphne protested. Padma had already sank into a chair, numbly, and didn't look like she was going to move anytime soon.

"She'd want us to," Isobel added, grasping Calla's hand tightly.

"Of that I have no doubt, but this is my ward and I know what is best for my patients. You've been assured that Miss Potter is alright. Until she wakes, I need the space and calm to properly care for Calla."

"But when will she wake up?" Sue Li asked, eyes round with worry.

"Soon, I hope. Within the next few days."

"Days?"

"Likely less than that, Miss Greengrass. I will have you all informed when she does wake."

"But we-"

"Miss McDougal, don't argue with me. Miss Greengrass and Miss Patil, you can both stay with Miss Potter, the rest of you back to Ravenclaw Tower."

"Professor Flitwick!" said Terry Boot. Harry turned - he hadn't even noticed Calla's head of house come in. "Can't we stay?"

"Madam Pomfrey is right, Mr Boot," said Flitwick's squeaky voice. "Miss Potter will be quite alright, but we can't have her crowded. I understand the need to see your friend, but now you have seen her, you will return to Ravenclaw Tower. I'll be along in fifteen minutes to explain to your housemates and expect to find you all present."

Defeated, the other Ravenclaws' hushed conversations filled the air for a couple of hurried seconds before Madam Pomfrey ushered most of them out, leaving only Daphne and Padma to sit either side of Calla's bed, both of them holding her hand tightly. The door closed and left them all in stifled silence.

Harry turned to stare at the ceiling again. It felt like hours since Dumbledore had brought him in here after learning the truth from the fake Moody. He'd sent Remus and Sirius out first to find Calla, then the Aurors once Harry had revealed where they'd gone. If it hadn't been for Barty Crouch, if Harry had only been able to tell Dumbledore about the graveyard sooner, then Calla might not be so hurt. He could hardly bring himself to look over at her, but he had to. She looked so frail and so pale, her dark hair spread out on her pillow. Tears burned his eyes and he wiped them away fiercely, hoping no-one saw.

The bed shifted beside him as Remus sat down, and reached out to hug Harry around the shoulders. His eyes were fixed carefully on Calla. "She'll be alright," he said, but he didn't sound entirely convinced.

"What if she isn't?"

"She will be."

"It's my fault."

Remus said nothing for a while, then sighed. "You have both been so, so brave tonight."

Harry shook his head, a lump in his throat. "That doesn't mean anything. It - Calla's hurt, and Cedric..." He couldn't say the words anymore. "Bravery doesn't fix it."

"I know," Remus whispered, holding him tight, "I know, Harry. But you mustn't blame yourself. Calla wouldn't want you to."

"The last few months all we've done is argue."

"You're far from the only siblings to do that."

"Yeah, but..." He shook his head, burying his face in Remus' shoulder. "What if I'd lost her?" he mumbled.

"But you haven't. You and your sister love each other and you both know it. You've both always known it."

"I left her."

"You didn't mean to."

"I still-"

"Harry, look at me." He was surprisingly stern for someone who also sounded so close to tears. Harry looked up, seeing pain and terror written on Remus' face, but a faint, forced smile still pulling at his lips. "I know surviving doesn't make anything easier. Surviving feels worse. You feel guilty. I know what that's like. I know what that can do. Everything you're feeling is valid, and understandable, but you can't scare yourself with what ifs. You and your sister are alive."

"Cedric isn't," Harry whispered.

He shook his head, leaning back, and sighed. His gaze went to Calla. "You ought to get some sleep, Harry."

"I don't think I can sleep."

"Madam Pomfrey has a dreamless sleep potion for you."

"I don't want a potion."

Remus smiled gently. "I know. But you'll feel better. And I promise, if Calla wakes up while you're asleep, I'll wake you too."

Harry nodded slowly, leaning against his pillows as Mrs Weasley retrieved the potion from Madam Pomfrey. He downed it in one, and kept his eyes on his sister before he drifted off into darkness.

Xx

He wasn't woken when Calla woke up. Instead, he was woken by the sound of Cornelius Fudge blustering his way towards the Hospital Wing. "I tell you, the Aurors report no sighting of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, only a few rogue Death Eaters and local Muggles who came out looking for the source of an explosion that no one had any reasonable explanation for! The International Statute of Secrecy is at risk and my Aurors are having to deal with it on top of the initial mess from tonight! I have enough to be dealing with without your-"

"You should never have brought the thing into the school in the first place!" McGonagall's voice yelled back.

"I had no choice! I needed it for my own protection!"

"Oh, when Dumbledore finds out!"

An instant later, the doors were thrust open and the screens were pulled around Harry's bed, blocking him from everyone's sight. He didn't know where Remus had gone, but presumably he was back beside Calla. He put his glasses on, frowning. Fudge stormed into the room, followed closely by McGonagall and Snape, both of whom looked furious.

"Where is Dumbledore?" Fudge demanded.

"He isn't here," Mrs Weasley said angrily. "This is a Hospital Wing, Minister, I rather think you'd-"

She was cut off by the door opening again and Dumbledore sweeping in. "What has happened?" he asked. "Why are you disturbing these people? Minerva, I thought I asked you to stand guard over Barty Crouch-"

"Oh, there'll be no need for that anymore!" McGonagall cried. "The Minister has seen to that alright!"

"When we informed Mr Fudge that we had caught another of the Death Eaters responsible for tonight's events," Snape said lowly, "he seemed to believe that his personal safety was at risk. He insisted that, with his Aurors still at the scene in Little Hangleton, he ought to have a Dementor accompany him into the school. He brought it to the office where Barty Crouch was being held."

"I told him you would not allow it, Dumbledore!" McGonagall insisted furiously, "I told him you would never allow the Dementors to set foot inside the castle!"

"My dear woman!" Fudge roared, taking Harry aback. "As the Minister for Magic, it is my decision whether or not I bring protection with me when interviewing a potentially highly dangerous criminal!"

"The moment that - that thing entered the office!" McGonagall yelled, voice trembling with anger. "The moment - it went down on Crouch and - and-"

Harry knew what she meant without her needing to say it. The Dementor's Kiss. A chill went through him.

"Be all accounts, he is no loss!" Fudge cried. "He has been responsible for several deaths!"

"But he cannot give evidence," Dumbledore said quietly. Harry's heart plummeted. "He cannot give evidence on why he killed those people."

"Why he killed them?" Fudge cried. "Well, that's obvious, the man's a raving lunatic! He has staged an act of terror and the murder of a young boy! From what we've seen and heard, he's delusional enough to believe that he was doing it on You-Know-Who's orders, that he has returned, and he has enveloped Death Eaters, who have laid dormant for years, into his raving plot!"

"Those deaths were on Lord Voldemort's instructions," Dumbledore said. His voice was calm, but Harry could sense tension there. "He has indeed returned; those deaths were a part of the plan to restore him to his body."

"But - but the Aurors saw no sign of You-Know-Who! Only a few Death Eaters, and Peter Pettigrew, who seems enough of a lunatic himself! Certainly we must treat this matter seriously but to suggest that You-Know-Who has been resurrected - Dumbledore, it simply cannot be true!"

"And yet," Dumbledore said heavily, "it is. As Minerva and Severus have doubtlessly told you, we heard Barty Crouch confess under Veritaserum. He told us how he was smuggled out of Azkaban, and how Voldemort freed him from his father, and used him to capture Harry and Calla. The plan worked and he has helped Voldemort to return."

"See - see here, Dumbledore," Fudge said with an incredulous smile. "You have already sent my Aurors out and they have seen no trace of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. You truly think this man is telling the truth?"

"You truly think the Death Eaters would reunite, together, in such a plan, if he was not? If Lord Voldemort had not indeed been restored to a body, to power, you truly think that the word of - as you say, a lunatic - alone would bring them together, when it is such a risk for those who have been hiding for so many years? What were they doing, if not bearing witness to the return of their master? Is it so improbable that the most powerful Dark wizard of an age is capable of Apparition?"

Fudge seemed to struggle for a moment. "I do not know, Dumbledore. What were they doing at the Quidditch World Cup? These people... They will be stopped, they will be found, I assure you! We already have Pettigrew in custody! But you understand I cannot believe something as serious as the allegation that You-Know-Who returning to life merely on the say-so of a lunatic!"

"If you would step up to my office," Dumbledore said quietly, "I will explain everything that has happened. But I don't think we should linger where we might disturb vulnerable patients."

Fudge turned around suddenly, as if seeing Harry for the first time, and then his eyes caught on Calla's bed. He paled. "The girl... My Aurors told me she may have been the one to cause the fire, as the only person found there in possession of a wand. The Statute of Secrecy-"

"I think you will find we have bigger issues at hand," Dumbledore said. "Miss Potter is currently in no fit state to be interrogated. Nor," he added, for Fudge had just looked back to Harry, "is her brother. Not tonight."

Fudge's curious smile lingered. "And - and you would believe the word of Harry Potter? Of Calla Potter, even?"

"And why wouldn't you?" That was Sirius, Harry realised with a jolt. It comforted him to know he was still there.

"Sirius, please," Dumbledore said gently. "Cornelius, I certainly would believe both Potters. Given what has already been proven true - that the cup was indeed a Portkey, that they were taken to Little Hangleton, and that Cedric Diggory was murdered by Peter Pettigrew - it only stands to reason that Harry is telling the truth about Lord Voldemort. And I suspect his sister would tell the same story."

"You would have me base the idea that Lord Voldemort has returned on the word of a lunatic murderer - perhaps two of them, if you get lucky - and a boy and girl who, well..."

Harry understood suddenly. "You've been reading Rita Skeeter, Mr Fudge."

Everyone jumped. Most of them hadn't realised Harry was even awake. "And if I have?" Fudge said, though he looked a little pink. "She has some funny stories, that's for certain. The girl with her crazed predictions and - is it visions, she calls them? And you, a Parselmouth, with your funny turns."

"I presume you are referring to the pains Harry gets in his scar," Dumbledore said coolly. "And to Calla's - very real, and I must admit, very accurate - Sight?"

"You admit it?" Fudge said quickly. "The two of them, both with these strange pains, these nightmares? Hallucinations, perhaps? From what I've heard, the girl is delusional half the time!

"You take that back!" Harry snapped, temper flaring. "Don't you dare say that about her! She's not delusional!"

"Listen to me, Cornelius," Dumbledore said, giving Harry a small, slow nod, "neither Harry nor Calla are any sort of delusional. They are both just as sane as you or I."

"The girl has been spouting delusions all year!"

"Predictions, Cornelius," Dumbledore said. "If you struggle with the concept of Divination, I am sure that Professor Trelawney would be glad to explain it to you." Fudge glared at him. "Calla has a most impressive control of her gifts for her age, whereas Harry's scar, I believe, only pains him when Lord Voldemort is nearby, or feeling particularly murderous."

Fudge shook his head, stepping back. "You'll forgive me, Dumbledore, but I have never heard of a curse scar behaving as an alarm bell before."

"Look, I saw Voldemort come back!" Harry shouted. He made to get out of bed, but was pushed back down. "I saw the Death Eaters! They might have gotten away but you know they were there, I can give you names! Lucius Malfoy!"

"Malfoy was cleared! He is from an old family, gives generously to charity-"

"MacNair!"

"Also cleared! Now working for the Ministry!"

"Avery - Nott-" A gasp from beside Calla's bed. "Crabbe! Goyle!"

"You are merely repeating the names of those suspected of being Death Eaters thirteen years ago, Potter!"

"Because they're guilty!"

"Our Aurors-"

"Your Aurors let them get away!"

"There will be an investigation but I will not listen to you yelling out your crackpot theories-"

"I'm telling the truth, can't you just listen? He's back, and those Death Eaters-"

"Were proven to be innocent!"

"Well, they're not!"

"Dumbledore, you cannot swallow this! Now this is lunacy!"

"I believe Harry is attempting to tell you the truth, Cornelius."

"And I believe you are all determined to have me worked into a greater panic than there already is! Already people are worried about what this means, I cannot tell them that Lord Voldemort has returned with no evidence and suffer the national - not to mention international - implications of that statement! Until my Aurors present me with evidence-"

"You have evidence! You have witnesses and you've already thrown one away!"

"I will not destabilise the nation that we all have worked so hard for thirteen years to rebuild!" He panted as he finished, red in the face and furious.

Harry could hardly believe his ears. He was refusing to listen. Refusing the truth for the sake of maintaining order. Even with the evidence he had. He was looking on Harry and Calla as lunatics to let himself avoid his problems.

"Voldemort has returned," Dumbledore said again. "If you accept that straight away, Fudge, and take the necessary measures - starting with the Aurors who are already on the scene in Little Hangleton - we may still be able to take the necessary measures. The first step is to remove the Dementors from Azkaban prison."

"I'd be kicked out of office even for suggesting such a thing!" Fudge cried. "It's preposterous! We can only sleep soundly in our beds because we know they are protecting us!"

"The rest of us sleep less soundly knowing that Voldemort's most loyal supporters are penned in only by those who would turn to him the moment he asks them to! They will not remain loyal to you, Fudge! Voldemort can offer them much more than you can. You would be hard pressed to fight him with all his old supporters and the Dementors at his back!" Fudge moved his mouth but failed to speak. "The second thing you must do, is to send envoys to the giants."

"Envoys to the giants? What madness-"

"Extend friendship now before it is too late. Or Voldemort will persuade them, as he did before, that it is he alone among wizards who will grant them their rights and freedoms that have been denied to them."

"You - you cannot be serious! If the community got wind... the giants - end of my career, Dumbledore!"

"You are blinded, Cornelius," Dumbledore said, "by your love of power and your position. You continue to place too much importance on purity of blood. You fail to realise that it matters not what someone is born, but what they grow to be! Your Dementor has just ended the line of a pure blood family as old as any, and look how he turned out! I tell you now. If you take the steps I have suggested, you shall be remembered whether in office or out, as the beaver and greatest Minister of Magic we have ever known. Fail to act, and history will remember you as the man who stepped aside and let Voldemort destroy that which we have worked so hard and for so long to rebuild."

"Insane." Fudge was backing away now, as though from a rabid animal. "Mad... Completely..."

"If you refuse to see the truth, Cornelius," Dumbledore said. "I believe we may have reached a parting of the ways. You do as you see fit. And I shall do as I see fit."

Harry thought Fudge was going to flee. Then he turned, advancing on Dumbledore with a wand. Dumbledore looked quite unalarmed. "Now, see here," he spat, "I have given you free rein, Dumbledore! I have always had a lot of respect for you! I may not have agreed with your decisions, but I've kept quiet. There aren't many who would have let you hire werewolves-" Remus made a sound of frustration and Fudge skittered a little "-and kept on Hagrid, or let you decide your curriculum without deference to the Ministry. But if you're going to work against me-"

"The only one I work against is Lord Voldemort," Dumbledore said evenly. "If you are against him, then we remain on the same side."

Fudge, it seemed, could find no answer. He took up his hat, placed it on his head. When he next spoke, he sounded almost pleading. "He can't be back, Dumbledore... He just can't be."

He made to leave, but Snape got in front of him and pulled his sleeve up to expose a coiling mess of black on his forearm. "There," he spat. "See. There is the proof you need. The Dark Mark, clear as it was a few hours ago when it burned for the first time in thirteen years. Every Death Eater has the sign burned into them when they join his ranks. It is a means of distinguishing each other and a means of summoning us. If he touched the mark of any Death Eater, we were to Apparate to him. This mark has been growing clearer all year and Karkaroff's too. Why do you think he fled tonight, just after Fleur Delacour came out of the maze? We both felt the mark burn and knew he had returned. Karkaroff fears the Dark Lord's vengeance. He gave the names of too many supporters to save his own skin. He could not be sure of a welcome back into the fold."

Fudge, looking horrified, stepped away from Snape. His eyes darted between the people in the wing, landing finally on Calla's small form on the bed. He swallows and looked away firmly. "I don't know what you and your staff are playing at, Dumbledore," he said. "But I have an investigation about possibly Death Eater activity on my hands already, an Auror Department trying to clear up an incident with Muggles that should be dealt with by the Misuse of Magic Department, a severe violation of the International Statute of Secrecy, and I have people who need my reassurance that all is well - not your ramblings about Dark Marks and the return of Lord Voldemort. I shall return to the Ministry. I will speak with you tomorrow, Dumbledore, to discuss the running of this school."

He turned on his heel and had reached the door when he turned back around, marched back up the ward, and deposited a heavy bag of coins onto the end of Harry'sbed. "There," he said, "your winnings. There was meant to be a presentation ceremony, but given the circumstances... You can split it between yourself and your sister, however you like."

Then he left. Harry was left staring at the ceiling again as Dumbledore started giving orders and instructions out, already thinking, already planning. Harry... Harry was furious, and terrified, and also exhausted. He looked back to his sister. She looked even paler in the dim lighting. Sirius came to sit at his side.

"Harry," Dumbledore said after a moment. He looked up. "Your sister will wake. When she does, you must explain to her what has happened. I'll be back as soon as I am able."

"Back?" Harry echoed. "Where are you going?"

"Only to my office." Dumbledore barely chuckled. His gaze was elsewhere. "Do sleep well. And... I believe Miss Delacour has been asking to see your patients, Madam Pomfrey."

Madam Pomfrey's eyes softened. "Yes, send her in. She ought to have that elbow checked again, too, just in case."

Dumbledore nodded serenely and bowed his way out. A moment later, Fleur Delacour was hurrying up the ward, speaking rapidly in panicked French as she came to stand between the two beds. "She is okay?" she asked, voice high and nervous. "They said..." She shook her head. "'Arry."

Harry looked up at her, frowning. "They are saying that you - you witnessed your He-Who-Is-Not-Named, return? That he..." Her voice broke off. "Cedric, is it true?" Harry nodded numbly. Fleur sobbed, and fell shakily into a chair beside Bill Weasley. "I did not know... When I saw you standing by the cup I was confused, but I could see you did not want to touch it. Then someone tried to curse me, when I ran for help. I thought it was Viktor." She shook her head. "I am so sorry. If I had only... I could have saved them."

Harry didn't say anything. If Fleur had been there, another spare, he thought Pettigrew would have killed her just as easily. "It isn't your fault," he said heavily.

Fleur met his eyes for a moment and then her gaze flickered back to Calla. "Will she wake soon?"

"Madam Pomfrey thinks so," Mrs Weasley said gently.

She nodded and swallowed thickly as Madam Pomfrey came over to inspect her elbow. "And then what will you do?"

"Do?"

"From what I hear," Fleur said, tilting her arm and wincing, "this He-Who-Is-Not-Named is the same who ruined this country when I was only little. My parents told me the stories before I came here." She frowned between them. "What will your Ministry do?"

Silence fell. "We don't know yet," Mrs Weasley said tightly. "Hopefully, something effective." But she didn't sound too hopeful.

They lapsed into a moment of quiet. "She will be okay," Fleur said eventually, when Madam Pomfrey had given her the all-clear for her elbow. A broken bone was apparently a lot quicker to heal than a vanished one. "Will you tell her I visited?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah."

Fleur smiled faintly, but there was worry and sorrow behind her eyes that Harry hadn't really expected to have seen there, even though he should have. She had been such good friends with Cedric, and he knew she had grown closer to Calla, too. All of a sudden he regretted not having gotten to know the other champions more. "Thank you."

"Yeah." She turned, and was about to slip out of the door when Harry added quickly, "Thank you." She looked back at him. "For coming to see Calla. And for trying to help."

A small but weak smile pulled her lips and she nodded, before disappearing and closing the door behind her.

Harry sighed, leaning back against his pillows. He looked over at his sister, still so pale, but at least breathing. At least alive. He breathed in carefully, closing his eyes. She'd be alright, he told himself. He had to believe that.

Author's Note: Hey! First of all sorry for the little delay in publishing this chapter, I had a few structural issues in terms of switching POVs and wound up taking some parts out and re-writing them so it flowed better, and then just as I was ready to publish yesterday, all the electric and phone lines in my area went down for like three hours, which was not fun. But anyway, it's up now!

I didn't want to put any notes in the last few chapters because of the flow etc. but just wanted to give you guys a bit of an update on my writing progress and where the story is headed! I've got around another dozen chapters already written, but I've spent time solidifying the outline for the next two years timeline-wise and am really excited about the direction I'm going to start going in. I can promise mind magic, soul magic, dark magic and a lot of Divination and Runes. From here on in, canon starts to kind of go a bit out the window. Certain canon elements will still be included, but the events of the graveyard are kind of the turning point in terms of canon divergence. Obviously we had Aurors present and so the world will have a different and slightly less certain story of what truly happened, plus Calla's visions and Voldemort's knowledge - and greater understanding - of that mean that this is going to have repercussions quite soon, which I'm looking forward to writing.

I'm also excited to explore Calla's connection with Voldemort and her relationship with her magic. She also does start to go further down her own path of discovery, which I'm pretty excited for. The events of the graveyard are going to very much impact her and her mental state and I want to warn you guys now that she does end up in rather a dark place for a while. That said, I still really hope you guys enjoy reading Calla's journey as she starts to go further and further and explore more of magic and the wizarding world. Updates may be a little less frequent for a while just so I can get on top of things, but we should still have at least one a week. Thanks again for reading!