She threw the powder onto the fire. Taking a last look at the bare living room that used to belong to him, she stepped into the green flames.

'The Ministry of Magic,' she said, clearly so there could be no mistake.

She spun round and round, catching glimpses of people's living rooms, kitchens, and young children asleep in bed before finally slowing down, and the fire deposited her neatly on the almost empty floor of the Atrium. She brushed herself down, unused to travelling in this way. The security wizard was too far away to notice the sound. Not yet, anyway.

She swung the bag off her back and rummaged through it. She found what she was looking for; a long silvery cloak that looked and felt like it had been woven from water. She threw the cloak around her and checked to see it was covering her completely; she seemed to be satisfied, as none of her body was showing; it had disappeared into thin air.

She drew her wand from the pocket of her old and tattered robes and got it comfortable in her hands. It hadn't lain there for so long ... Whether she would need it or not remained to be seen.

Now she was ready.

Once again she looked in her bag and pulled out a very tiny bag with a blue ribbon around the top and a glass. She opened the pouch and took a handful of the powder and threw it on the fire. Checking once again that she couldn't be seen, she flung the glass to the floor with all her might, then threw the bag into the green flames, and whispered something so quiet that she herself couldn't hear it. The bag spun round in the flames and was gone. She turned and looked for the security wizard. He was gone from his chair by the lifts, and was running towards the fire places and the source of the sound. Things were going as planned.

But as he approached the fireplaces, something strange happened to his face. It seemed to stretch in strange places, his cheeks blew out and the top of his head stretched towards the ceiling, just like when she saw things through tears. Then she realised it was through tears, because when she blinked, the deformed head shrunk back to normal proportions, and she could see his face properly. It was ... it was her brother. She felt her knees give way, and she fell to the floor, crying silently.

But as she wept, his face swam in front of her blurry eyes. There would be all the time in the world to grieve for her family ... after she had done what she had to for him. Slowly she stood up, and looked for the guard. There was no one there. He had been part of her imagination. Her brother had done that job, before ...

She started to walk. Right down the Atrium, past the Fountain of the Brethren, past the desk where they checked the wands, straight towards the lifts. Luckily there was one at the right level, and she walked straight in. She pressed the number nine button, the doors clanged shut and the lift jolted. Seconds later, they arrived at Level Nine, and the doors opened. Feeling braver now, but at the same time, more scared, she walked quickly down the corridor to the big black door.

xxx

The chaos in the arched room was absolute. It hit her like a tangible force the moment she stepped inside the door. There were wizards and witches running about everywhere, spells flying at everyone. One whistled past her ear and she could feel the power behind it. That was a killer.

Realising that time was precious now, she leapt down the stone tiers towards the dais with the archway perched on top. She scrambled onto it, and now had time to look around.

There were Death Eaters, lots of them; their masks distinguished them from the rest. The Death Eaters and the Good Side. Her side. There were more Death Eaters than people on the good side, and there were even a couple of kids milling around, sending hexes at some of them. She knew that hexes couldn't stand up to what the Death Eaters knew. She shivered, and distracted herself by studying her side closely. There was a young witch, younger than her, with bright pink hair. Then a younger boy who looked extraordinarily like ... Alice Longbottom; she dragged the name from the back of her memory. A tall black man, too. He looked like a trained Auror. Then she gasped. The other boy. It was James! Then her sense of reality took over, and she realised it couldn't be James; he died older than that. Not a lot, but still older. This must be his fabled son then. Harry. And if Harry was here ...

She looked around desperately, sure that he must be here somewhere. A Death Eater waltzed past the dais, waving his or her wand at an older man with a chunk missing from his nose. He seemed to be winning his particular battle. But before she could grasp the memory where she had seen him before, she saw another person out of the corner of her eye who she definitely remembered. It was him. She felt her heart swell like it did only when she thought of him. She watched him, wanting to cry with joy and despair, knowing that he would never know ...

The Death Eater he was battling with was pushing him closer and closer to the dais. She knew what was going to happen, and even with her unused wand she was powerless to do anything about it. She just had to be there.

His Death Eater had him up on the platform now. Still battling, their wands moving faster than she could follow, they edged slowly towards her. She looked to James's son, knowing that she would find him watching. Unable to tear her eyes from him a second longer, she looked back to the man to find him close enough almost to touch.

"Come on, you can do better than that!"

She hadn't heard his voice in so long ... fifteen years ... The memories it brought back ... Her watching him through the bushes as he sat joking with his friends beside the lake ... Watching from the trees as he acted as best man ... Following him when he went to check on his friends ... Seeing him find their house blown to bits, with only the baby alive ... His handsome face laughing fit to bust when his friend, his friend, had killed that street full of Muggles ...

She was brought back to the present by the flash erupting from the Death Eater's wand, straight at her target. It hit him on the chest, and he was knocked off balance. As though time had slowed to allow her to do what she needed, she pulled the cloak over her head, so it still covered her, but so it would also cover him. His head collided with her stomach, and she could feel herself forced backwards through the archway. But if she was at all scared, she didn't notice, because that touch was all she needed. She felt the energy surge out of him and through her; the energy that would be wasted if he made it through the veil. She felt the soft touch of the veil on the back of her head, like caressing fingers pulling her in, and whispered; the last words she would ever utter. Her last look at the room was to see the Death Eater laughing as she thought she watched her cousin vanish into the unknown, Harry's look of pure horror, and him disappearing under the Cloak. Then ...

Nothing ...

xxx

The angle of his body was altered by the collision with hers. He blacked out as his head made contact with the stone arch, and didn't see the paper flutter from the folds of the veil, to come to rest on his heart.

So I'm crazy am I? They didn't believe me; they said my brains had been addled by my monstrous experience. I told them, again and again that they were mistaken, that they had the wrong man, but who would believe a crazy person? Not Cornelius Fudge, that is for sure. I have no faith in our race any longer. If they will put away an innocent man without a trial, and not listen to any defence, crazy witness or not, then I do not want any more to do with them. I shall withdraw myself from their vicious society. I have no need of my wand. If I am as mad as they think I am, they will not find this disturbing. I doubt anyone will even notice ...

But would they notice if I vanished for ever? I doubt that too. And if they do, it will be no loss. One less crazy person to care for, they will say ...

I have thought, and I won't end it now. I figure there must be a reason for me to make this choice. A reason the Fates haven't informed me of yet. But there will be a reason. It will give me an aim in life - to live until this important day comes. It will be a life without him, true, but it is something to live for ...

---

I wrote this seventeen years ago in my diary. The Fates finally told me what that duty was. I Saw you fall through the veil, and I was shown that my job is to sacrifice myself for you. My life has been ruined, but yours, while disrupted, is still whole, and you have a lot to live for. Your godson would die inside if you did, and you still have to avenge your best friend's death.

You see, I knew. I watched you all the time, although you probably never noticed. I knew where you were, and I also knew that you were innocent. I tried to make the Wizengamot see reason. I told them I knew you were innocent. But to take the words of a mad woman seriously is too appalling for them to imagine. I saw my whole family murdered, and only escaped because I was hiding on the attic mourning for the love I never had, and now never shall. They imagined that this had 'addled my brains', as I was told when I was pleading your case, but what they never knew was the grief I was suffering, and still am.

I only hope that you will be happy, for though my life will not have been wasted in vain - it never would for you - I would be happier in my death knowing that you will be happy to have lived, for Harry as much as for yourself.

All my love, for eternity,

Cassandra

P.S. Keep the Cloak

xxx

The death certificate kept by the Ministry was finally fulfilled.

Cassandra Trelawney, great-great-great granddaughter to the original Seer had inherited her ancestor's skill, but no one had taken her seriously. They marked her as missing, believed dead, just as they had for the other Trelawneys that died that night, when she had withdrawn from wizarding society and lived as a Muggle, away from the terror of her former life.

But she never forgot the man she had loved since she was at school. And now her life had been given for that man. He would live, thanks to her, and she didn't begrudge him any of it. The only thing she wanted was to die with his name on his lips. And she succeeded.