Erin gaped at Dumbledore. He was looking perfectly serious. In fact, he was looking the quintessential wizard. Long silvery hair and beard, half moon spectacles that added to the persona of the wisdom of the ages, beautifully flamboyant robes of deepest, darkest blue with the moon in all its phases embroidered around the loose cuffs, and a cap with a little golden tassel dangling down level with the brim. So, if Geppetto-or Albus Dumbledore was a wizard, then the stick she had seen him brandish must be a magic wand. They all had wands. Different sorts of wood and different lengths, with decorative carvings up and down their lengths. Or maybe they were lengths of plastic made to look like wood.

A little smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "You said that you would not lie to me, Mr Dumbledore,' Erin admonished, but she smiled as she said it."

"I assure you my dear, I have not lied. All of the people in this room are magical."

"Harry included?"

"Yes, Erin. Harry included."

Erin crossed her arms and raised her chin. "Now I know you're lying. If Harry was magical, he would have been able to get away from those truly awful relatives. Or are you going to tell me that the Dursleys are magical also?"

"Harry is an underage wizard. He cannot use his magic at will. And no, the Dursleys are definitely not magical."

Erin threw her arms up in the air and slapped them down on the covers. "Oh, this is just getting more and more farcical. Underage wizard, indeed!" In a flash, she threw back the covers and was sliding out of the opposite side of the bed from where Minerva and Albus were stationed, the pyjama-pants legs sliding up to reveal shapely ankles.

The only person prepared for this sudden bid for freedom was Severus. This time, however, knowing that Albus did not wish it, he resisted hexing Erin herself.

"Protego!"

Erin's feet came up against an invisible barrier. Her head snapped around towards the end of the bed and she glared. She hadn't needed to hear that black velvet voice to know it was him. It seemed he took delight in thwarting her. The Black Prince was standing there with a superior smirk on his face. She supposed it was a change from the blank façade he had been wearing up to now. His black wand was in his hand.

She pounded her fists on the covers. "Let me out of this bed!" she demanded, knowing that she was acting like a petulant child and knowing that would only inspire him to piss her off even more. Of course, the smirk became even more pronounced and Erin felt an overwhelming desire to slap it right off his smug face. To that end, and with a scream of rage, she launched herself towards the end of the bed. 

Severus raised his wand again but before he could have the pleasure of stopping the spitting and clawing virago in her tracks, and before Erin could raise her hand to his face, Moody, and Minerva had cast shield charms and Albus-forward thinking as ever-had cast a cushioning charm so that when Erin crashed into the invisible wall, she did not hurt herself. Immediately upon the heels of the cushioning charm, Albus cast a  Muffliato charm so that Remus and Harry might still have a chance to remain undisturbed. He did not want to cast the silencing charm on Erin herself, reluctant to alter her physiology further with even a simple charm.

"If you don't let me go, you'll all be sorry when I do get away. The police will be very interested in this little operation," she yelled, clearly forgetting about Harry and Remus in her anger, as she had no way of knowing that she could not be heard by them.

Albus held up his hand but Erin had had it with the kid gloves approach. "I don't care how nice and calm you're being Mr Dumbledore, if indeed that is your name. Kidnapping is against the law. I am here against my will and I imagine Harry is also."

She pushed her wildly dishevelled hair out of her face. "I suppose you're the leader of some mad religious cult. You call yourself witches and wizards but I'm pretty sure they're misnomers. In actuality, I would say a more accurate title would be extortionists.  But I'm sure I don't know why you targeted me. I have nothing I can contribute to your little operation.

"Magic!" she spat. "The only magic involved in this whole nightmare is the magic of drugs. That's how you managed to get me to wherever I am now without me knowing. What drugs did you use? Whatever they were, you're going to have to keep me drugged up to the eyeballs because I will never join your little community. And I'm pretty sure Harry won't either.

"I suppose it was some kind of hallucinogen. That's why it appears that you can do strange and wonderful things by waving those silly little sticks around. Great props, by the way. You've gone all out with the costumes and the..." Erin sketched quotation marks in midair with her fingers, "...wands."

The wizards and the witch standing around the bed had been staring at Erin in various stages of shock and bemusement. Even Tonks had turned in her chair to listen. Dumbledore had obviously included her within the boundaries of his Muffliato charm.

"Does anyone know what in Merlin she is raving about?" asked Moody in his rough voice and Erin let out another cry of rage and dug her fingers into her scalp.

"Erin..."

"Oh, for Goodness sake, leave the poor woman alone." Erin looked up. The young woman with the pink hair had left the bedside of the sleeping man-Remus, wasn't it?-and had inserted herself between Geppetto and Ms McGonagall. "Can't you all see that she's totally overwhelmed by everything she sees and hears."

Erin dashed the tears of anger and frustration out of her eyes. The woman-Tonks?-was now rubbing comforting circles on her back. Erin would have fought any of the others off if they had tried to touch her at this stage, but maybe it was because this person looked like a normal human being that she submitted to her touch.

"I suppose you think you could do a better job of explaining things to a person who clearly does not wish to understand, Nymphadora?" The voice was black velvet but his words were stupidity themselves. Of course she wished to understand.

Please, someone help me understand!

Tonks reached into a pocket in her skirt and removed a folded wad of tissues. She handed them to Erin.

"Well Severus, I could hardly do a worse job, could I?" she turned to Dumbledore whilst Erin sniffed and separated one tissue from the wad and began to dry her eyes and blow her nose.

"I'm sorry Sir," she said. "But you're going about this all wrong. You're trying to explain a concept that Muggles only ever see as illusions and trickery performed by clever conmen, and seen as entertainment or told as fairy stories to amuse children. Will you let me try and explain?"

Ms McGonagall had drawn herself up and was looking every bit as uptight as her hair in its severe bun. Prince was sneering but amazingly, he still managed to look bored to death and Mr. Moody, seemingly content to let others handle explanations, had leaned back in his chair and stuck his leg out as though to ease a stiffness.

But Geppetto inclined his head towards Tonks. "Certainly, Nymphadora. As you say, my dear, you could hardly do a worse job. We shall go and fortify ourselves with another cup of tea. I shall have a tray made up for you both. I imagine Erin could do with the bolster?"

He peered at Erin over the top of his Geppetto spectacles, his eyebrows raised in question. Erin sniffed into her tissue and gave a small, miserable nod. He offered her a, regretful smile then, holding his arms out as though to gather his chicks around him, he set off down the room.

Ms McGonagall followed, her back stiff and Moody lumbered to his feet and stumped after them. Prince Severus glared at the two women. Erin tried to give the look back tenfold but found that she was really too exhausted to exchange death glares with him. She looked down at her fingers where she was shredding the tissue to pieces.

"Did you want to say something, Professor Snape?" asked Tonks in a jaunty voice.

"Just remember, Nymphadora, this is not a garden tea-party. It would not be advisable to sugar-coat things."

Tonks raised a fine eyebrow. "Nor is it necessary to drown everything in armadillo bile, sir."

Erin's head had snapped up again at Tonks's words and she saw the Prince throw both of them a look that suggested that what he would like to do to the two of them, at the very least, was bang there heads together. So in an effort to prevent himself from resorting to violence, and in lieu of letting loose another verbal onslaught, he channelled all his fury into his stride as he stalked after the others.

Erin stared in disbelief at Tonks as she hoisted herself onto the end of the bed and sat cross-legged, facing Erin.

"What?" asked Tonks.

"Armadillo bile?"

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Severus followed the others and threw himself down into one of the extra chairs that Dumbledore had conjured. What he would not like to do to Nymphadora Tonks to teach her a lesson about respect for her elders. Smart mouthed, disrespectful little Hufflepuff minx. And as for the other one. She needed to be taught a lesson about self control.

He was not totally ignorant of what the woman must be going through, as insensitive as the rest of the world liked to consider him. He had seen her fear and her confusion. Like Potter, every thought and every emotion flashed across her face like a Muggle film, plain for all to see. Even when she had been trying for stoicism, he had been able to see that she was nearly insensible with fear and reeling with confusion.

When she had first awoken, he had seen clearly that she was convinced that she was dreaming. But then reality had crept up-but a reality like she had never come across before. She had tried really hard to believe because she had instinctively trusted Dumbledore, as did most people. But then she had baulked because it was all too surreal. The clothes, the surroundings, the wands...and the magic!

Her questions had been succinct and she had held it together remarkably well until Albus had told her unequivocally what they all were and that magic was real.

She had even used alternate identities for them because it was easier for her to think about those make believe characters than the strange reality of the people before her. He had been quite amused at her mental pictures of Albus-he could vaguely remember Geppetto as being associated with some Muggle fantasy from his early childhood-and Minerva. He thought that the Wicked Witch of the West was from another Muggle childhood story.

And the Black Prince...well, he was not entirely sure about that but he thought he may have been some medieval prince-why black, he had no idea. Of course, it was obvious why she had given him that sobriquet. Everything about him was black, including his voice, apparently.

And he had found it amusing that she had labelled him with a title that was very close to his own nickname for himself in school-‘The Half Blood Prince'. ‘Prince', because his mother's maiden name was Prince, and ‘Half Blood', because he was a half blood. Not that he had ever bandied that piece of information around freely...after all, he had been a Slytherin and the vast majority of his housemates had been purebloods.

Severus knew he had nothing going for him in the looks department but he had been told by more than one person that his voice was...well, compelling. He knew he had the ability to keep a class in his thrall but he had always put that down to their fear of him rather than the mesmerising affects of his voice.

Severus was far from being vain-indeed he had little to be vain about-but it was nice to know that he had one feature that could not be sneered at.

Severus shook himself out of this uncharacteristic personal introspection and focused his thoughts back on the Muggle. He had been surprised when she had lost it...when she had started to rant about kidnapping and drugs. Well, technically, he supposed, she had been kidnapped. If Lupin had not wished to play the chivalric knight...but no, he had really had no choice. Severus too, would not have liked his conscience to be plagued by what her fate would have been had she been left to the brutal ministrations of Death Eaters who would have been furious over the escape of  their original quarry.

And then she had tried to attack him when he had prevented her from flinging herself off the bed and more magic had been used, even though nothing had been cast directly upon her this time. He had not thought that she would become hysterical; she had kept it together up until then. But Severus supposed everyone had a limit.

He looked back towards the bed. Both women were talking in low tones. He could see them but not hear anything as the Muffliato charm was still in place. As he watched, a tray of tea things shimmered into existence atop the bedside cabinet.

Tonks, in the manner of one young female to another, even those who had been total strangers minutes before, was becoming intimately acquainted and was reaching across to tame Erin's hair with her hands. That hair was nearly the exact shade of red as another redhead he had once known. It was also the same length as she had always worn hers. Severus' hands clenched. He would not think about her. A difficult task at the best of times when a constant reminder of her was under the Hogwart's roof for most of the year.

He usually had a decent break from that reminder; the summer holidays were long enough for him to steel himself for the next onslaught of painful memories. But not this year...

Severus watched as Tonks prepared two cups of tea, directing the operation with her wand, and Erin watch the performance in open mouthed astonishment. She was not screaming hysterically, so Nymphadora was obviously handling things well-up to this stage at any rate.

He looked away to find Minerva holding a full cup of tea out to him. He gave his usual curt nod of thanks, an action Minerva was far too used to, to be offended. All of Severus' actions were curt to the point of rudeness.

He had just taken hold of the handle when a searing pain engulfed his senses. It had originated in his left forearm and was so intense, his hand spasmed violently and the cup fell from his suddenly, nerveless fingers. The cup smashed on the flagstones but the hot tea splashed over Severus' robes.

He managed not to grab at his left arm but he could not stop the hiss of pain that escaped him. Luckily, the hot liquid in his lap was an excellent cover for the fact that he was in pain.

Severus had sprung out of his chair, as had Minerva. Because she had been sitting right next to Severus, her robes, unfortunately, had not entirely escaped the cascade of hot liquid. She was not scalded however, and her wand had dealt with the spill before it had fully penetrated through to her skin.

Severus had not been so lucky, having taken the brunt of the spill, so his exclamation of pain encompassed the burn in his arm as well as the burn on his leg. The one centred over his left forearm was definitely the more agonising of the two. His fingers twitched involuntarily but he hid the spasm amongst the full folds of his robes while Minerva cast a drying and cooling charm on him. His burn cream would take care of the residual sting.

Severus knew that both Minerva and Moody were aware that his Dark Mark had burned, but it had become habit for him to always attempt to hide the pain associated with a summons. Sometimes he was more successful than others. Today, finesse had definitely been conspicuous by its absence.

Severus eyes had sought Dumbledore immediately he had gained his feet and Albus was watching him with concern, fully aware that Severus had been summoned, and rather viciously too. The Dark Lord was not happy.

"Problem Snape?" Moody was looking maliciously smug. Even though he was fully aware that Albus had absolutely no doubts about Severus's true allegiance, the old Auror had never been able to let go of his malignant hatred of Severus.

He had attended too many grizzly scenes of torture and mayhem after Death Eaters had trampled through, leaving death and destruction in their wake. Moody had never encountered Severus at any of these horrific scenes, but the fact that the younger man bore the Dark Mark put him forever beyond redemption in Moody's book.

Severus knew that the only thing that would convince Moody that he was indeed Albus Dumbledore's man, would be if he laid down his own life to save another member of the Order of the Phoenix. Even then, he would probably say that Snape had been in the wrong place at the wrong time and had not meant to take the curse that had been directed at another.

Severus could not care less what Moody thought of him. The only person he had to answer to was Dumbledore and he knew that that wise old man trusted him and he would not do anything to destroy that trust. Moody and his suspicions be damned.

Severus needed to answer the call but before he could leave, a long, drawn out cry of pain drew everyone's attention. Potter was thrashing about wildly, becoming entangled in the covers.

Severus made a supreme effort to lock his own pain away as he hurried to Harry's side with the other three hurrying in his wake. Tonks had also hurried over and as if the crowd of wizards was not bad enough, Potter's Muggle friend was right amongst them, her appalled gave fixed on the distressed boy.

Severus was shocked to see that Harry had clawed bloody wounds into his face, mostly around the scar on his forehead and he grasped the boy's hands and held them securely. That did not stop the violent thrashing and Moody made himself useful by clamping his arms around Harry's legs through the covers. With those movements curtailed so thoroughly, Harry twisted his head to the side so that he could rub the livid scar against the pillow.

His respirations were rapid and choppy again, just as they had been back at Privet Drive. Suddenly, the boy's back arched and he released an agonised scream. At the same time, the pain in Severus' forearm intensified so much he could no longer keep it locked away.

"Albus!" he hissed through clenched teeth and Albus immediately understood his need. He took over from Severus and held Harry's wrists so that he could not harm himself further.

"Go, Severus. This will not stop until you are there."

Severus had now grasped his own forearm, squeezing the abused flesh under his palm in an attempt to ease the pain. For several heartbeats, he stood and stared at the distressed boy.

"GO!" commanded Dumbledore, and with a swirl of his robes, Severus spun about and ran to the fireplace in Poppy's office. No-one heard him call his destination, he said it so quietly but they heard the roar of the floo as he was consumed by the emerald, green flames. He left Dumbledore with the problem of Harry, and the old wizard knew there was only one thing he could do. He could not bear to see the child suffer any more this night-did not want to see him suffer any more, ever.

Stupefy! For the second time in approximately six hours, Harry was stunned so that he was unaware of the pain currently assailing his senses.

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Erin's hands had covered her mouth as she watched Harry yell and                                     writhe about in apparent agony. She could hardly bear to watch as the two fully grown men tried to forcibly still his frenzied movements.

But when the oldest wizard (Erin could still not really believe that she was giving any credence to the claims that there really were such things as wizards)...her Geppetto had pointed his wand at Harry and spoken a commanding word and Harry had instantly become as still as if he was dead, Erin had been unable to hold back a cry of shocked distress.

She pushed her way past Tonks towards the head of the bed where she put out a hand to smooth Harry's sweaty fringe away from his forehead. The scratches that surrounded the angry looking, jagged scar on his forehead were still very red and a few of them oozed little spots of blood. He felt very hot to the touch and though he was now unconscious, his face was still set in lines of pain.

Erin looked up at Dumbledore, her green eyes glittering angrily. "What did you do to him?"

Dumbledore looked weary and when he spoke, his voice was every bit as unhappy as it was exhausted. "I did the only thing I could think to do to ease the child's suffering."

"But why was he suffering? He had been sleeping peacefully since I woke up...here...in this...this place. In this alternate universe!"

"It is the same universe as the one you have always known, Erin. Magic-real magic-is just an aspect of it you have not come across before. I imagine what you are feeling would be equivalent to travelling to a foreign country where the culture is entirely different to the one you are used to.

"In fact, if you would only open your mind a little, I do believe you will be able to get used to us very quickly. We are, after all, as human as you are. We are, all of us here, British and we are all people who are fighting to bring about peace and stability in our world, and ultimately, yours. We just have an ability that Muggles do not."

At Erin's questioning look, Albus elaborated. "We call non-magical folk, Muggles." Tonks had obviously not gotten this far in her explanations.

Erin's look said exactly what she thought of the sobriquet, ‘Muggle' but at the moment, she was more worried about Harry than learning everything there was to know about the Wizarding World tonight. The question she longed to ask about ‘the fight to bring about peace' would also have to wait. But she did wonder whom they were they fighting?

"Where can I get a bowl of water and a face washer?" was the question she asked.  "I want to sponge Harry's face. He's dripping wet."

Instead of answering, Minerva waved her wand and a metal bowl filled with lukewarm water appeared on the bedside cabinet, a folded washcloth and towel and a container of soap beside it. Erin's jaw started to drop but she caught herself and she snapped her lips together. OK. One more example of the amazing things these people could do.

She looked down at Harry where she was still stroking his hair. He looked so young, so vulnerable. This poor boy seemed to be at the centre of some kind of conspiracy. No, maybe conspiracy was too strong a word, but he was definitely looked upon very differently in this world than he was in the world the Dursley's occupied. These people seemed to be very protective of Harry.

Yes, these people definitely seemed to care for Harry. Well, it was hard to say what the wizard called Alastor Moody felt. He did not seem to show any emotion. No, she had that wrong. She remembered that he had seemed quite disparaging of Prince Severus.

Ah, yes, Prince Severus. He alone seemed to have been less than enamoured with Harry, and yet, he was the one whom she had seen at Privet Drive, apparently expending a great deal of effort to stabilize Harry so that he could be taken away from Privet Drive without his injuries being exacerbated.

Erin's thoughts were whirling as she sponged the perspiration from Harry's face and neck. The older three wizards, leaving her to carry on her ministrations, had moved wearily back to the sumptuous armchairs that were totally out of place in this austere hospital ward. Earlier, when she had mentioned this observation to Tonks, she had laughed and said that they were Dumbledore's signature chairs. He conjured them wherever he needed a seat if there was nothing remotely comfortable to sit on in the immediate vicinity.

Erin sighed. This really was way too much for her to get her head around. She came from a world where children were fascinated by simple magic. It held them enthralled, but they quickly learned that it was all trickery and illusions.

Of course, there were much more sophisticated types of illusion in the world of show business that held adult audiences enthralled also. Truly amazing displays on grand scales that really did seem to defy the laws of physics. She had never really been a fan of "magic". It wasn't something she really found entertaining, but in a distant corner of her mind, she did wonder how these amazing illusions were executed.

But the things she had seen tonight weren't grand illusions. Everything she had seen happen had appeared relatively simple and had been brought about with matter-of-fact simplicity-no grand standing, no showing off.  Certainly, nothing so grand as the Statue of Liberty disappearing, that was for sure.

But she had felt the effects of some of the magic flying around tonight. And she had seen clearly, without the aid of camera angles or mirrors, the magic performed by these people-these witches and wizards.

Her hands, at the present moment were wringing out a washcloth over a bowl of water that had just appeared out of nowhere when Professor McGonagall had waved her wand. She had drunk a cup of tea that had appeared out of nowhere. She had been made mute, she had been paralysed and both conditions had been easily reversed with a wave of a wand. And she had seen chairs move across the room without any visible means of locomotion-they had just...moved. Seemingly, of their own volition.

And of course, she had awoken in this previously unknown hospital ward which was supposedly in a castle. And, on top of that, she had awoken in a pair of pyjamas that she would never, under normal circumstances, be seen dead in!

As Erin continued to sponge Harry's hot face with the lukewarm water, she replayed some of Tonks' words from earlier. She had told Erin that there was thought to be around ten thousand witches and wizards in Britain, but that there were many other non-human beings with varying degrees of magic.

She had said that a magical baby could be born of two magical parents, one magical and one non-magical parent, or, in rarer circumstances, of two non-magical parents. Tonks had two magical parents but her father was the son of two Muggles. Erin ran her hand through Harry's damp hair again. Apparently, he had a similar parentage to Tonks. His father was a pureblood wizard but his mother, Petunia Dursley's sister was born of two Muggle parents.

Erin's brow furrowed. The way Tonks had spoken, Erin had deduced that one's heredity was a very big deal in the magical world.

She looked over to the bed opposite Harry's where the only person she had not heard anything from since she had awoken, was still sleeping soundly, and where Tonks had returned when it was apparent that Erin was taking charge of Harry. Tonks was running her fingers through the man's greying hair. It was obvious that she cared deeply for him. What was his name again...something like Renee...no...Remus, that was it. Witches and wizards obviously went in for unusual names-all those she had met tonight had unusual names, except perhaps Alastor, and of course, Harry. There was Albus (she thought Geppetto suited him better), Minerva, Severus, Remus and Nymphadora...perhaps the most unusual of all.

Erin liked Nymphadora Tonks. The young woman had a wonderful sense of humour and she knew how to tell a story and hold her audience mesmerized. Perhaps it was because Tonks had looked so thoroughly modern and normal compared to the others, Erin had found herself believing what she had to say. What reason, after all, did she have for making up such an amazing tale?

She had not made a huge production out of any of it. She had started by telling Erin that as unbelievable as everything she had been told may seem, it was all true. Everyone in this hospital wing was a wizard or a witch, including Harry.

She had explained about how young people who were imbued with magic had to be trained so that they could control their powers, and as with non-magical people, their abilities were highly individual. A child born of two magical parents could end up not having very much inherent power at all, whilst a child born of two non-magical parents, in many cases, could be quite powerful.

Her Geppetto, it turned out was an enormously powerful wizard, the likes of whom had not been seen since the days of Merlin himself. Albus Dumbledore was not only powerful, he was a good and fair man. Tonks had then told her in less than her usual happy and confident tone that there was one other who perhaps matched Dumbledore in power but he was certainly not good and no-one liked to think about, let alone talk about him.

The Wicked Witch of the West was a powerful witch and, according to Tonks, was very definitely not wicked even if she appeared a little severe at times. In Tonks' opinion, Professor McGonagall was a wonderful teacher, having taught Tonks, herself.

Alastor Moody was amazingly magical and was the Magical World's equivalent of a Law Enforcement Officer.

Professor Snape was also a teacher here at Hogwarts. That was the extent of Tonks' explanation about the Black Prince, but Erin felt that there was much more to Severus Snape that was not being spoken of.

In the middle of this dissertation, the tray of tea had appeared out of thin air and Tonks had directed the preparation of two cups with her wand. By the time this demonstration had reached its conclusion and Erin was sipping a delicious beverage, just the way she liked it, she had reluctantly come to the inescapable conclusion that she was not dreaming. She had felt the hot cup heating the palms of her hands and burning the inside of her mouth. She had felt Tonks' hands fixing her hair and just to be absolutely certain, she had subjected herself to the time honoured method of determining whether one is dreaming or not; she had pinched herself-hard.

It had hurt.

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Harry felt a lot cooler now that Erin had been sponging his face and neck for the last fifteen minutes. Strangely, the water had not changed temperature...it was exactly the same as it had been when she had first put her hands in the bowl. More magic!

Erin had unbuttoned Harry's pyjama top, (his pyjamas were exactly the same as hers) and had sponged his chest and stomach. She had been upset to see just how skinny the young boy was; she could clearly see the outline of every rib. Harry's emaciation was not the worst of it though. The healing wounds marring his pale flesh had taken her aback for more than one reason...one, was the sheer number of scars on his torso, and two, was the fact that the most recent injuries were already healed, though the scars were still pink and tender.

Erin sighed. The most unpalatable thing about this whole episode with Harry was that it appeared that it was his own family who had attacked him, and not anyone from this magical world.

To get past her distress, Erin briskly began to remove Harry's damp pyjama top-only to find that she couldn't easily roll him to free his arms. He might be skinny, but he was more than she could move at the present moment. His frenetic writhing earlier had twisted the loose sleeves around his arms and it was unpleasantly clammy with perspiration. She looked across at Tonks.

"Um...Tonks, can you give me a hand please." Tonks stood and dropped a kiss on Remus's forehead before leaving his side.

"Can you help me remove this damp shirt. He needs a fresh one."

"Let's make this easy," said Tonks, and she pulled out her wand. She waved it over Harry once and said, Evaporo! and a second, slightly different movement was accompanied by the word, Fresco!

"OK," said Tonks. "He's fresh and dry and now..." A third, more complicated movement of Tonks's wand had Harry rising a foot off the mattress so that he hovered in mid-air.

Erin's mouth dropped open. Harry was just floating there, with no visible means of support. She turned her shocked face to Tonks. "How?" she said weakly.

Tonks grinned cheekily. "Magic," she whispered. 

Erin wasted several more seconds goggling, but when Tonks gave her a quick poke and said, "Well, straighten his top. I can't hold him here all night," Erin quickly complied. When Tonks had lowered Harry back onto the bed, Erin refastened his buttons and pulled the covers up. At least she knew now that he was clean and dry.

She wished the scratches on his face could be healed but when she asked Tonks if she could do it, the young witch told her that she was not very good at healing charms and that it was best to wait for someone who was better qualified.

"We all have areas where we excel and others where we suck," added Tonks matter-of-factly.

"What do you excel at?" asked Erin as the two young women returned to Erin's bed. Erin climbed up and reclined back against the pillows, suddenly very tired. Tonks sat on the side. Erin's head was beginning to ache and she thought it was because her ordinary, Muggle brain cells could not assimilate the surreal new knowledge that had been forced on her this night.

But when Tonks screwed up her pretty face in an expression of intense concentration, Erin felt her eyes widening again as Tonks's  pink hair turned a lovely shade of turquoise and her nicely shaped nose shortened considerably and turned up alarmingly at the end so that it resembled a pig's snout. It was obvious that the nights shocks weren't over by a long shot.

"This is my special talent," said Tonks in a snuffly voice that became her normal tones again when she turned her nose back to it's original shape and size. "I'm what is called a Metamorphmagus. It means I can change my appearance at will, without the use of a spell or a potion. It's very handy in my line of work."

Erin remembered that Tonks had told her that she was a wizarding law-enforcement person-an Auror-like Mr Moody.

"That's er...quite amazing, Tonks." Erin said weakly. "Is being a meta...a what you said, a prerequisite of the job?'

Tonks shook her turquoise head. "If it was, there would be very few Aurors. I am a rarity in the wizarding world. Metamorphmagi are born, not made."

Erin tried to look suitably impressed but it was all she could do to suppress a yawn behind her hand. Tonks must have noticed though, because she hopped off the bed and patted Erin on the knee.

"Why don't you lie down and try to sleep. Things might seem a little less fantastical by the bright light of day."

Erin looked down the room at the out-of-place chintz armchairs and their occupants. Professor McGonagall was leaning on one hand and had her eyes closed. Her witches hat was slightly askew on her head. Mr Moody's real eye was also closed but that horrible, electric blue atrocity was still whizzing around, though it didn't seem to be disturbing the battle-scarred wizard from his slumber. Only Albus Dumbledore was awake. He was sitting with his finger-tips pressed together against his set lips and he was staring at Harry. But Erin was sure he wasn't really seeing the sleeping boy. The old man looked exhausted...and very, very worried.

Erin was sure that there was a great deal going on that she had not been told about. Where, for instance, had Prince Severus gone in such a hurry? And why had he appeared to be in immense pain?

Erin finally allowed her exhaustion to overwhelm her. She slid down under the covers and closed her eyes, trying very hard to suppress the dizzying sensation that the amazing revelations of the night were generating. She also had to make a concerted effort not to think about the things she had not been told-and it appeared that they were numerous.

Erin thought she had succeeded. She felt herself drifting very nicely; she was comfortable and warm under the covers; this bed was not too dissimilar from her own at her parent's house in Privet Drive.

Privet Drive! Erin's eyes flew open and she sprang up in the bed. My God, how could she have forgotten? Mad-eye Moody had said that there was nothing left at Privet Drive. How could that be? Her parent's house. Harry's house. How did houses just disappear unless they were demolished...blown up?

She had to ask Mr Moody. Erin threw back the covers but before she could get out of the bed, she fell back with a cry as a blinding bright burst of light materialized in the doorway. With watering eyes, she saw the laser bright mass of light streak down the ward. It stopped near Geppetto, who had hurriedly risen to his feet. A sonorous voice resonated through the stone room.

Erin stared, eyes watering and mesmerized, at the dazzling light as the words pierced her brain.

"Petunia and Dudley Dursley have been killed in an automobile accident! Vernon Dursley badly injured in hospital."

The sun-bright light slowly faded to nothingness.