The Phoenix Follies: HSL: In A Room Behind Your Smile

In the needle goes. Pull it tight. Send it back through the other side. Repeat. Over and over, new rows of color forming upon a canvas of near white. Blue, purple, green, and other colors, all mixing to create a perfected image. It always relaxed her, concentrating on such a simple yet overly complicated thing. The image had to be in her mind at all times.

There was a mismatched square of color. Rylia sighed soft and pulled it out before quietly setting her cross-stitch aside and turning to stare up at the photos on her bedside table. Harry with Ron's arm about his shoulders and laughing. Draco glaring at her in the library, Severus after falling asleep by the fire… Her precious people, all together.

She rose from her chair by the door and walked over to the table. Taking Severus picture in her hands, she traced his relaxed face. He lay silently in his chair, the fire flickering gold onto his soft face and dark clothes. A book lay upon his stomach, open with one hand still holding it. One of the few times her master slept soundly and it was captured in that moment, hers for eternity. That photo would certainly accompany her on the journey.

Slowly, Rylia let her gaze roam over her room. It wasn't small by any means and every piece of furniture had been hand made for her size and needs. Nothing had been spared her. Snape had always treated her with great respect. Even after he got a mate.

"No!" she growled to herself. "No, I mustn't think like that. I cannot allow such jealousy… I refuse to lower myself to pettiness…"

But it never reached her heart. She couldn't help the jealousy she had of the kind werewolf. No matter if he was better suited for Severus' mate. No matter if he was intelligent and gentle and perfect. No matter if he was a wizard.

"Stop it," she whispered, gripping the edge of the table to stay steady. "I am not a kitten. I refuse to act this way…"

But it hurt. Oh, it hurt. So much that she could barely stand it anymore. It hurt even more that she liked his mate, could find little fault with him, and knew of their perfection. She had known from the start of everything that there was no chance for her to gain Severus' love.

Moving on to her dresser, she opened the smallest drawer and pulled out a roll of parchment, well read with small finger prints and little tears all about. It had been in her possession for two months now. Someone had found her.

'Rylia!

It's enough! It's enough, I understand now what you told me. I swear I do. Rylia, end this punishment now and come home. I'll force nothing on you. No mating, no bonding, no link at all. I don't care if you're mine or not. Just come home. When I found you were with a wizard…Rylia, I was so afraid for you. I was so sure that he'd have mistreated you all these years.

I visited, but didn't dare let you see me. Who is the boy you were with? The young one with sad eyes? Is he the reason you stay? I swear to you, if you must bring him, we will help you heal him. Anything, Rylia. We just want you home.

Coilerinee has stated that none shall force you here. It must be your choice. He is aging, Rylia. Saranek's death was hard for us all, but it seems almost too much for him after your disappearance. I beg of you, if not for me, than at least visit for him. Don't stay if you don't want to, just visit.

Please Rylia. Come back to us.

Sirili'

She had cried when she first received word. Her mother dead and her father soon to leave. She had thought of her family often through the years, but return to the colony…? Leave the manor? …Leave Severus?

Rylia decided to think more on this in the evening. Early as it was now, she had chores to do and a house to keep.

Snape returned to the manor on Christmas Eve. His first action was to look at the decorations before nodding his approval to the three residents. It wasn't anything big, but the house did have a softer spirit for the holiday.

"I'm afraid Remus will be staying at the school a few days more," he told them as they sat down for midday meal. "There is some charms work going on that he is assisting with."

"Will he be back before the end of the break?" asked Harry quietly.

"Most likely," Snape replied. "He will want to give you his gifts in person, I assume."

Harry smiled a little.

After the meal, the four went in their separate ways. Harry had letters to write, Draco had reading, Snape had work, and Rylia had her housecleaning. Harry settled into the desk in his room. There were scattered sheets of parchment, some half written on and others clean. His quills and ink sat at the ready, but he still wasn't sure what to write.

What does one write to a long lost cousin?

It was amazing that he had one. Draco received a letter the day before about him. His name was Samuel Briggs and he lived in America. Samuel was nineteen and lived on his own. His mother had succumbed to the De'lOncre curse of insanity and his father was estranged from him. Samuel was a wizard and attending a college for a degree in Dark Arts defense.

'Dear Mr. Samuel Briggs' was what he finally used to begin.

'Dear Mr. Samuel Briggs,

My name is Harry Potter. I am contacting you in regards to a family connection I have just become aware of…'

No. That sounded far too formal. Samuel wasn't a business man he wanted to impress, after all.

'Dear Samuel Briggs,

'My name is Harry Potter. I have just recently found out that we're kin to each other. Your mother, Danielle, was my father's cousin. I don't ask you to take my word for it and wouldn't feel bad if you didn't.

I'm contacting you because you are the only family I have. If it would be all right, I'd like to meet you. If it's not, that's okay too.

I don't have any idea what to write. I've never done this before and I bet you've never gotten a letter like this before, have you?

Well, now that I've thoroughly embarrassed myself, I'll leave you alone. I would like it if you wrote back.

Signed,
Harry Potter'

Christmas day came. Presents were exchanged and opened. Dinner was taken as a great feast. After, the four made themselves comfortable in the living room. Harry and Draco had been surprised that it was tradition in the Snape household to spend Christmas eve together, though they need not socialize if they didn't wish to.

"He usually reads while I do my needlepoint," commented Rylia with a small smile. She assured the boys that they need not stay if they didn't wish, but neither had any reason not to. So, they brought down the chessboard and set to spending the rest of the evening playing. Harry, unfortunately, was very bad at chess.

Remus surprised them all by stumbling through the fireplace at near midnight, arms overflowing with gifts. He wouldn't let the boys go to bed until they had received them and grinned at the delight that spread over their faces. Snape didn't give anything but a polite "thank you" to his present, but Harry had an odd suspicious that his real thanks was better left behind closed doors.

Two days after Christmas, Remus accompanied Harry to Diagon Alley. The Twins had invited him to visit, as they missed seeing him. As soon as he arrived, the two redheads barreled into him and grabbed him up into a tight hug. Remus promised to fetch him later before he left.

"We've been eagerly awaiting you," chirped George as Fred dropped an arm over Harry's shoulders.

"After all, it's been so long," the second twin chimed in. Harry smiled at the both of them. The afternoon was spent well, exchanging gifts, eating, and simply enjoying the company. Harry loved the easy companionship that was always between them. It seemed all too soon that night fell and Remus returned. Before they left, Fred pulled Harry aside.

"What is it?" the black haired boy asked softly. A seriousness came to the twin's face, one that sent an uneasy feeling to his stomach.

"Why are you with my brother?" Fred questioned finally. Harry looked at him in confusion. The other boy sighed. "Harry, don't hide it. I know you're not in love with Ron."

The green eyes flew wide. "Wh-what? Of course I love Ron…"

"No, that's not the same thing," replied the other gently. There was a very sad look to his eyes and that scared Harry badly. "You do love Ron. He's your best friend, of course you would love him. But that's not the same as being in love."

"Stop it," Harry hissed, glaring at him. How dare he try to rip down his defenses, to hurt him this way? The boy whipped around and started away, only to have a firm hand grip his arm.

"You flinch when he touches you, don't you?"

Harry froze.

"You always have to remind yourself that it's Ron, not someone trying to hurt you."

Slowly, he turned his head and stared with wide, terrified eyes. Fred met his gaze sadly.

"Ron can't heal you, Harry," he said softly as he let go. "He can't fix you. You're using his feelings to make yourself whole, but it won't work for much longer."

"Shut up," whispered the broken voice.

"Let my brother go before he's in too deep to do the same."

Harry didn't respond. He turned his back to Fred and went to Remus' side. The werewolf looked at him with concern, but didn't question there. Once they'd arrived back at Snape Manor, Harry went to Draco's room without a word. He knocked only once before entering. The blonde boy looked up from his place at the desk, hand poised in mid word.

"Can I help you, Harry?" he drawled. Harry shut the door behind him, eyes on the floor. Draco frowned and put down his quill as he got up. "Harry?"

Slowly, the green eyes lifted. Draco was confused by the swirling emotion and pain within them, how tears were barely held in.

"He was lying, wasn't he?" Harry asked, his voice pleading as desperately as his eyes did. Draco paused before him.

"Who was lying, Harry?"

"He was! I swear he was!" Harry dropped his head, his fists clinched as his back fell against the door. "It's not true, I do, damn it…"

"You're not making any sense," Draco responded quietly, moving close enough to touch the other boy's cheek. With a sudden burst of movement, Draco found himself smashed tight against Harry's body, the other boy's arms wound around him and lips against his own. He gave a muffled sound of protest, but a knee found its way between his legs and he found his resistance faltering. The feeling of that, coupled with Harry's slim fingers tangled in his hair and the tongue battling his own, nearly made him lose his head completely. 'He's out of his mind,' he thought distractedly before he really looked at the situation. With a jerk, Draco pushed himself away from the other boy.

"Harry, stop it!"

Those unnaturally beautiful green eyes snapped open and stared at him in horror. The arms fell away as Harry flattened himself completely against the door, his face paling.

"What the bloody hell was that about!" Draco growled, angry at himself for letting it happen, for enjoying it, and Harry for doing it in the first place.

"It's the same…Oh god, it is true…" The whisper was so faint, so broken, that Draco's anger evaporated.

"Harry?"

With out looking at him, Harry wrenched the door back open and fled.

'STOP IT!'

Her tiny hands pulled painfully at her hair, the wavy black tresses spiking every which way from between her fingers. Her chest was too tight to breath normally, eyes burning as tears streaked down her cheeks. Her body shook with her sobs, too hard to contain the sound.

"I can't do this anymore…"

She never thought it would hurt so badly, that it would eat at her until she didn't think she would ever survive, that it would tear at everything she was…until she didn't know who she was anymore.

She had tried. Gods had she ever tried… But she could try no longer. She hadn't the strength of her younger years. Already, she was nearing the end of middle age. Soon, she would grow old and her fur grayed. Soon, her body would ache and her claws dull. Soon, her strength would fail her completely.

There was only one thing she could do.

Ryliatin, cub of Coilerinee and Saranek, was going home to spend the rest of her lonely days among her own people.

Draco frowned as he leaned against the window sill. The sun was warm on his skin, but it was not what he paid attention to. No, his eyes were riveted on the boy who sat in his garden below. Harry had been increasingly introverted since his visit to the Weasley twins. With no Macabre to keep him company, who would make sure the boy didn't fall head long into his depression? Draco's hand stilled on the frame.

He wanted to be the one to quell the darkness. He wanted to be Harry's strength, even if the boy never did fall for him. Oh yes, Draco knew that he loved Harry, was in love with him, would love him for eternity. That was quite obvious. But he also knew that Harry was far too confused to decide what he wanted, so he'd hold on tight to whatever he did have. Whether it was healthy or not.

Draco's fingers tightened. He would watch the other boy, wait for the right time. Someday, when Harry could deal with his life enough to notice, Draco would be there to hold his hand.

Someday wasn't coming nearly soon enough.

The face that stared back at him wasn't young and vulnerable. It wasn't green eyed. It wasn't filled with such sadness that one felt horrified to even look upon it. No, his face stared back. His dark blue eyes, matured features, curly black hair, high boned cheeks… His own, not… not his.

He touched the mirror, letting his wide fingers trace his reflection's face. His hands were not long and thin and so delicate. They were the hands of a man, strong and large. He held one in front and stared at it. It was his own, not his.

"Mine, not his," he murmured softly to himself. His knees quaked a little, so he sat back on the edge of his bed. The boy in the mirror did the same, cool blue eyes watching him the whole way. The body was strong, wide shoulders, slim waist, muscle rippling under his skin. Not the largest boy around, but not bad. He certainly received more than a few appraising looks and a bed partner was never hard to find. His body wasn't small and thin and weak and… His own. Not his.

That face would smile no matter what pain befell him. Only here, in private, would it fall. Those eyes sparkled with an inner light he hadn't actually felt in weeks. That body moved with a grace and confidence unseen on most sixteen year old males. He didn't shrink away from any touch, no, he glorified in the sensations. He wasn't hesitant and uncertain of the world. Not him. But he was.

"No matter what I do, I'll never be him."

His lips quirked into a little smile. It was bitter, but it was the first time in the whole vacation that he'd been able. Expelling a sigh, he flung himself back on the bed and gazed up at the ceiling. There really was no way he could be Harry Potter, no matter how many saw similarities between them. He blinked suddenly.

"Why am I wanting to be someone other than myself?" he asked aloud, astounded at his own thoughts. "Just because some boy, albeit a very handsome, sexy, well endowed one, doesn't want me?"

…Yes. That was exactly what it was. He let out a sharp laugh before hugging himself and continuing, his laughter bouncing off the walls. He laughed until his sides hurt, and then kept on until he couldn't breath anymore. Trying to change himself for a boy? His eyes filled with tears from forcing his laughter and emotion out.

"How stupid of me!" he cried and then laughed even more. There, when he could only gasp for breath, Blaise Zabini came to a true epiphany about himself. He didn't need someone to validate himself with. Draco Malfoy could go fuck a troll for all he cared, though he hoped the other Slytherin had a bit more taste. He had acted well and truly stupid in the last months, picking on Potter as he had.

He laid back and stared upward. Yes, he really had been a royal prat lately. There was only one think he could do.

He'd have to work his ass off to make it up to Potter and keep it secret at the same time.

Harry stood still at the doorway, hand still on the knob. His eyes were riveted on the form of a green stone sitting on his bed. It wasn't ornate; just a palm sized stone, smooth and slightly flattened into a tear shape, gold wrapped about the top to attach the clasp, and a thin chain of gold. The necklace itself wasn't what made him stop. It was the magic swirling about it. It coursed through the entire being of it, wrapping the stone in a tight cocoon of magic. There was no malice from it, nothing but a sense of peace.

Slowly, Harry left the safety of the doorway and approached the bed. As he grew nearer, the magic flowed over him, stronger but still not violent. It was calming, like a mother's kiss. He couldn't help but reach out to it, hold it in his hands, cradle the stone against his chest. As the soothing warmth spread through his body, the world around him faded away until he was left in the darkness. He didn't mind this; it felt safe to him.

"Hello, Harry."

He turned and stared at the girl standing behind him. Her face was filled with a sad sort of happiness, small mouth turned in a gentle smile.

"Hello, Helga," Harry replied to her. The small blonde walked towards him and set her hands over his, still clasped at his chest.

"You've found the stone," she said quietly. "Few of your ancestors have ever come so far…"

"I didn't find it," he replied, frowning. Helga looked confused. "I came into my room and it was laying on my bed."

"Then… Someone found it, one who knew you were destined for it…" Her dark eyes grew far away as she thought of this. "There are many who know of Salazar's curse…"

"In that poem," Harry interrupted. "You mentioned this stone. What does it mean?"

"It is the only way to awaken the Maidens." She patted his hand as she looked at the stone. "Keep it with you, but beware…The Guards will wake as well."

"Are they dangerous?"

"Extremely…"

Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "For who?"

"Just you." She smiled sadly at him. "They will attack no one who is not of Gryffindor blood."

"Will all five have guards?"

"Yes."

"And they will attack me?"

"Yes."

"When?"

She frowned a little, wringing her hands. "I don't know."

"Anytime then…" He sighed and shook his head a little, wondering just how much longer it would be before he could rest again. Helga slowly put her arms around him, her head laying against his shoulder. Harry fell into the warmth, clutching to her. She felt so safe, so secure…

"The others are worried," Helga said softly. "I must leave you now."

"Will I see you again?"

She smiled and kissed his cheek. "Just find the mirror. I will be there until the curse has been lifted."

He nodded and she pulled away from him. Quickly, she faded into the darkness. A sense of heaviness took Harry then, as if all his limbs were suddenly turned to lead. His knees buckled and he fell to them. He was tired, so very, very tired…His eyes slid closed before he could stop them.

"Harry!"

A familiar voice…He swam into consciousness, trying to answer but his lips wouldn't move. The voice sounded again, his name said in such a desperate way. Open your eyes, he told himself, open your eyes…

Draco was leaned over him, face strained and silver eyes wild. He looked like a restrained beast, fighting a desperate war inside. And then, at once, the war was won and relief spread over him. The other boy clutched him to his chest, face buried against his neck. Harry blinked blearily as he tried to make sense of it.

"Damn it, Harry," Draco growled into his throat, "Stop scaring me like that…"

"What…?" He still felt tired, like he'd run for miles straight.

"You just…fainted, Harry, as soon as I walked in." Draco held him even tighter. "I thought…something had…"

Harry lifted a hand and pet the other boy's hair. "I'm all right…I was talking to Helga…"

"Helga?" Draco pulled back at looked at him, perplexed. The dark haired boy glanced around and spotted the emerald stone, pointing it out. Draco reached for it and touched it before jerking his hand back. "Magic… Old magic…"

"The Seeking Stone," Harry replied tiredly. "She said I would use it to find the Maidens…"

"Maidens?"

"Yes…the ones to break the curse…"

"Curse?"

"..of Salazar….on the Gryffindor line….."

His speech was getting more slurred by the moment. His talk with Helga had taken more out of him than he thought. And Draco was just so warm and comfortable. So safe…

Draco watched as Harry fell asleep against him, the tension leaving his face. He studied the other boy's breathing, making sure it was steady, before letting himself relax a little bit. Just sleep. Nothing more. Draco gathered him up and set Harry onto his bed, pulling the sheets over him. He traced the other boy's face with his fingertips, soothing himself more than anything.

"A curse…" He sighed and pulled himself away, shutting Harry's door behind him. "Of course Harry Potter would have an old family curse on him…It simply fits…"

He wasn't sure what he would be doing about that, but there would be something. He would have to think on this.

The winter holiday ended too soon for most. Streams of children made their way to the dorms to mingle and brag about their vacations. Others exchanged late gifts and still others mysteriously disappeared for hours at a time.

Harry had only been in the sixth year dorm for a few minutes before a red haired blur slammed into him.

"Harry!" Ron cried, hugging the other boy tightly to him. Harry returned the hug lightly, even as Fred's words rang in his mind.

"Let my brother go before he's in too deep to do the same."

But he couldn't. Not yet. Maybe not ever. Harry needed Ron. Needed the safety, the assurance. Needed something to focus on.

After reacquainting with each other, they went to find Hermione. Harry mentioned the Seeking Stone and nearly pulled it out, but Hermione shushed him until they escaped to the Library. The Keeper of the Books gave them a strange look, unused to students popping into her domain after just arriving, but gave them little more attention.

"Let me see it," Hermione said as Harry pulled the stone out. He had been keeping it inside his shirt. She reached to touch it, ran her fingers over the surface. "It feels warm…"

"Let me try," Ron said, grabbing up the emerald stone. He was quick to jerk his hand back, cradling it to his chest with a hiss of pain. Harry dropped the stone and looked at his boyfriend worry. The red head's hand was lightly smoking, his skin fiercely red.

"It burned him," Hermione noted, confused. She could not imagine why it had burned him and not her. Perhaps it only worked for females? But Harry could touch it, actually wore it…She would have to think on this.

They decided to meet up later on in the evening to talk about the stone. As it was still afternoon, the other students would miss them if they were gone. Reluctantly, they went on to greet other friends. The day was spent catching up on what had happened during the break, who'd gotten laid and who'd gotten dumped, and so on, the normality of teenage society. The near party lasted on through the evening.

As Parvati made another joke, she was surprised when Lavender didn't laugh. Actually, she looked rather sick.

"Lavender?" the girl asked with worry, reaching over to touch her friend's shoulder. Lavender folded, legs going out from under her as she grabbed her stomach and gave out a weak cry. A few others noticed and started to cluster around her. Lavender held her middle tightly as tears started to roll down her cheeks. The pain came far too suddenly, too strongly, for her to deal with.

And then it was gone, replaced with a numbness. The sounds around her muted until she could barely hear them. Movements slowed and blurred, the world fading into only the slightest hints of color. She lifted her head, staring blearily out at the worried faces surrounding her. They were no matter. Her eyes searched…where…?

And then she saw him, just barely through a slim hole in the wall of bodies. Her vision went red as her mind was overpowered by the need to obliterate him from all existence. She jumped to her feet, knocking a few back as she let out a scream. He stared at her with those wide, impossibly bright eyes. The anger only burned hotter at those eyes and she leapt forth, shoving the students away in her mindless rage. Most were knocked away as she sent out a wave of wild magic, like the red haired one. The other threw herself in front of her prey. Lavender snarled at her, but could not raise a hand. She didn't understand why. Her mind was willed with chaos, but one thought won out.

"The Maiden shall not go to the unworthy!" she howled, letting loose another wave. The girl was thrown aside, but uninjured. Lavender had made sure of that. She could feel spells try to subdue her, but nothing got past the astounding amount of magic oozing from her body. One swipe and the boy was thrown back against the wall like a doll. She didn't let him hit the ground, a fist to his gut smashing him back against the stone. He cried out uselessly and coughed blood. The sight of the red substance only made her worse. Blow upon blow rained down on the boy, that blissfully horrible color blossoming over his body.

Then it stopped. She crumpled to the ground as a spell finally made it past her. The boy stared at her motionless body, his eyes hazed over with pain and the coming unconsciousness. His wand fell from useless fingers. And then Harry Potter closed his eyes and couldn't be awakened.

Hermione sat between the beds of Lavender Brown and Harry Potter. She hadn't moved for two days as they lay in sleep. Ron brought her food and homework assignments after the few times he himself had gone, but little else was done. Lavender's friends came, but Madam Pomfrey shooed them out quickly. Ron, himself, had been thrown out a few times, but Hermione couldn't be made to move. She ate between the beds, slept between them, did her school work between them, but she didn't leave.

By Madam Pomfrey's gift, most of Harry's injuries were healing well. Lavender didn't have a mark on her, but there was little hope she would wake. Her mind was at a complete standstill, as if time had completely stopped for her. Only her magic kept her body going. The mediwitch was baffled over how a simple stunning spell could have affected her so. Dumbledore had confirmed that that was the spell used, and not even at full power. Harry hadn't had enough strength to hurt her seriously.

In the early morning of the third day, Harry's eyes opened. It was barely light, just after dawn. He started to sit up, but his body was sore from healing and laying still so long. His quiet utterance of pain woke Hermione immediately. She sat up, looking at him, and tears began to roll down her cheeks. She hugging him tightly and he returned it as well as he could.

"What…happened?" he asked softly.

"Lavender attacked you," Hermione murmured softly. "She was one of the Guards."

"Then at least one of the Maidens should be around unprotected…we'll have to find her…"

The brunette girl sat back a little, closing her eyes. "We don't have to find her, Harry."

"What do you mean?" the boy asked, his expression clearing as he became more awake.

She hesitated a moment, thinking over how she wanted to tell him. It wasn't clear how she knew, but… Hermione opened her eyes and looked at him, not bothering to hide her nervousness.

"We don't have to find her because…I'm sitting right here."

Harry returned to the dorms that evening. Most of the house went nuts doting on him, especially Ron, who was very shaken up by the attack. The rest were trying to figure out why Lavender had attacked him so savagely in the first place. They wondered if he had done something to her. Harry ignored them and soon found a need to escape.

He found himself outside of the mirror room. With a breath, he stepped inside and went to sit on the cushions. As before, the mirror went black before slowly settling on a scene.

Helga Hufflepuff laid on the ornate bed, her face sweat soaked and blonde hair pulled back, though a few ringlets stuck to her cheeks. She was in her mid twenties and looked so very tired. Her dark eyes stayed riveted on the doorway, waiting.

At long last, Salazar Slytherin slowly entered with a bundle in his arms. Helga smiled softly as he sat at her bedside and carefully set the baby in her arms. She cooed and awed over it, brushing her fingers across it's pink skin. Salazar watched with a soft look in his eyes.

"She's beautiful," Helga whispered. "Utterly beautiful…"

"Just like her mother," Salazar replied. Helga beamed at him.

"Thank you…Thank you so much…"

"It was the least I could do to thank you." He gently kissed her brow. "Now rest. I'll keep watch and the doctor will be here for the week to make sure the baby is all right.

"Thank you," Helga whispered once more, her eyes falling shut as exhaustion took hold of her. Salazar carefully lifted the child from her arms and stood. He stepped towards the bassinet set near the bed, but paused, looking down at the tiny life in his arms.

"You will live happily," he murmured to the babe, who only slept. "You will live only as the child of Helga Hufflepuff, a pure and innocent soul."

He closed his eyes for a moment, then turned to regard the mother as she rested after giving birth.

"You will live as she has," he whispered. Then he laid the baby carefully in her bassinet. He couldn't help but trace over her face, fingertips feather light on her cheeks. He closed his eyes and turned away, almost in pain for a few moments.

"Merlin," the man murmured to himself. "What have I done?"

The scene faded, except for Helga. She got out of the bed before it was gone and stepped forward, growing younger with each step until she was the young girl Harry had seen before. He got up and walked to the mirror, pressing a hand upon the smooth surface.

"You had a child with him," he said and she nodded.

"I named her Abigail," murmured Helga softly. "He wouldn't allow me to give her his name, but he did help me raise her."

"Why?"

"Salazar was… a complicated man." She smiled sadly, brushing a blonde curl behind her ear. "He knew that I love him and to repay me for all I had done for him, he gave me a child so that I would never be lonely. He could never have loved me as I did him, that was reserved for Godric even after all that happened… but he did care for me until the day he died."

Harry nodded and closed his eyes as he leaned forward to rest his head against the glass.

"Was he in pain? When he died?" he asked softly.

"Very much." She sighed a little. "He was caught in a firefight. I tried my best to save him, but nothing I did worked. He died in my arms."

Harry pulled away and looked off. "We found a maiden. The Guard for her is unconscious and no one knows if she'll ever wake up again."

"Not until the curse is broken," Helga responded softly. "She can't. None of them will be able to."

"So if I fail, I ruin their lives?"

She didn't answer.

"Beautiful." He almost laughed, but it wasn't funny at all.

"You will find them. No other has come so close."

Harry glanced back at the woman, his face calm.

"Is that what you saw with your crystal ball?"

She closed her eyes. "It is what I feel with my heart."

"Then, for the sakes of the Guards, I hope you're right."