The three of them landed on the edge of a forest, the unknown had slid away in another direction, and no one seemed to notice their appearance. They strolled into the center of the park and claimed a private spot under a tree. The hot April sun beat down upon their backs, causing them to shed their jackets before they began to discuss the problem at hand.

“That was all my fault,” Megan said. It was the first time they’d spoken for what must have seemed like a century.

“That’s great,” Rachel said. “From my memory, I do recall Emma saying something along the same lines.”

“It’s okay Megan,” Emma pulled her into a sisterly embrace. “That’s why we stick together like this. Something like this could have been caused by just about any of us. Don’t fret over it.”

Megan began to cry on Emma’s shoulder, and Rachel came behind her to pat her back.

“Like Emma said, it could’ve been any of us,” Rachel noted. “We should move on to the reason why we were coming here in the first place.”

Megan dried her tears and pulled herself together fairly quickly. “Right, so…Anthony. Funny guy.”

“Not so much we can do about him,” Emma replied.

“We could keep track of what he does, but that’s kinda illegal isn’t it?” Megan thought aloud.

“What’s the time?” Rachel asked arbitrarily.

“Five thirty,” Emma replied. “Why?”

“We should get going. We’ve got company for dinner if I remember correctly,” Rachel answered.

“Oh my God! I completely forgot,” Megan exclaimed.

“Might as well drop by the supermarket on the way back. We should be able to make good time if we jog the rest of the way,” Rachel said, pulling out her cell phone to double check the time.

“Let’s go,” Megan said. The three of them jogged to the market and bought everything they needed. They all had a habit of keeping most of their essential items—keys, credit cards, and so on—on their body.

The real curiosity occurred when they got home. Their Civic was standing in the driveway without any dents. It actually looked much better than it had before they left.

“Later,” Rachel had groaned over a bag full of plastic utensils.

The meal was easy enough to prepare: spinach ravioli with a mix of tofu and beans to go with it.

Anthony arrived promptly at seven, and they all sat down to eat soon enough.

“Really,” he said once the meal was over, “you ladies really outdid yourselves.”

They had all introduced themselves thoroughly during the meal, giving him the set backgrounds they had created for themselves before they had met.

“A tradition,” he continued, looking at Rachel, “in my hometown is to do something polite when someone moves in.” He let the statement hang in the air before getting up and excusing himself for the night.

The three of them went to bed wondering what he could’ve done.

***********

“No!” Emma sat up straight. She was sweating. She walked down the stairs, making sure her footsteps didn’t make any noise. She pulled her sweats tight around her legs such that they didn’t make any noise and kept her breathing shallow and soft. She grabbed her water bottle of the counter and took a couple sips.

Her dream was a strange one. She remembered that much. It was about the war. She hadn’t dreamt about the war in a really long time. She was watching the green beam of light shoot from Voldemort’s wand straight into Harry’s chest. She had never seen Harry die; she had been sitting in the Room of Requirement and had heard about it later. This was a dream she had gotten night after night for months after the war. But as she had let go of Harry, the dreams had let go of her.

But something else about the dream was bugging her. She closed her eyes and visualized the dream that had come to her and her thoughts throughout the night.

She opened her eyes slowly, finally realizing what was different about that night’s dream. She ran through her memory to make sure Harry’s eyes had never turned grey and his hair had never flashed blond.

She wondered how none of them had not noticed it before. How, specifically, she had never noticed it. The obviously dyed hair, the grey eyes, the politeness that had gotten Megan cooing from the moment she had seen him.

No longer feeling the need to be quiet, she grabbed her keys and stepped out of the house, making sure she locked it on her way out.

As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she noted several cars parked in their neighbor’s driveway.

Images from her last encounter with Death Eaters came flooding back to her. She closed her eyes and desperately willed her brain to not shut down on her as it so often did in emergency situations. She walked up the porch and rang the doorbell.

“Emma,” Anthony said once he opened the door, “I’ve got some friends over, but do come join us.”

She nodded, “Thank you; I do believe I’ll take you up on your offer.”

He opened the door wider to allow her to come in and led her to the living room. The first thing she noticed was that she wasn’t dressed for the type of company her neighbor was keeping. The second thing was that she knew everyone in the room. Not one of the people in the room had bothered to change their appearance. Hermione sat next to Ron while Harry sat in a chair off to the side. That was the third thing, and it nearly made her heart stop. Harry was sitting there, alive and well, talking to Hermione and Ron. She had gotten over him a long time ago, but it was still a shock to see him.

“Hey you guys,” Anthony said, “this is Emma, our neighbor. Emma, this is Harry, Ron, and Hermione.” Emma smiled at each of them in turn and noted that none of them had bothered to cover up their names and that Anthony had said ‘our neighbor,’ meaning that they were probably living here, too. She stifled a giggle, thinking how odd it would be to be living next door to her brother.

Emma took a seat next to Harry. “So, Harry,” she said, turning to him, “what do you do here?”

“I’m hoping to open my own shop nearby. A book store,” he replied. “How ‘bout you?”

“I teach the literature course up at Long Beach.” She smirked inwardly to herself, knowing exactly why they were here. Although why they were living with Draco Malfoy would remain a mystery to her.

“Excuse me for a moment,” she said after conversing with the three of them for some time. She ran into the bathroom and pulled her cell out of her pocket. She never stepped out of the house without it. She opened it and sent a text to Rachel and Megan.

@ Anthonyz house. My family somehow living w/ him.
Cover for me @ work if I dont show. Thx. – Emma

As she walked back, she noticed the four of them discussing something seriously. She refrained from entering the room and listened in.

“I swear, that must be her.” That was Anthony’s voice. “I even saw her Disapparate earlier today.”

“That can’t be Ginny,” Ron replied. “Ginny would have kept the hair at least; she was really proud of it.”

“And,” Hermione added, “I don’t think she would have sat down next to you without showing a bit of shock. We all told her that you were dead.”

“So if she’s not Ginny Weasley, she must be a witch,” Anthony countered.

“That’s not necessarily true,” Harry said. “Any three of them could be witches.”

“I’ve seen side-along apparition with one person, but never with two,” Hermione said.

“She’d have to be a really strong witch to pull two people along.”

“Two of them could be witches, or even all three of them,” Harry said. “We need to consider all possibilities.”

“I think,” Ron said, “that we should just ask her.”

Emma felt as though this was the perfect time for her to walk in. “Ask me what?” she asked as sweetly as she could. She then stepped into the gaze of four very angry and very shocked eyes.

Author notes: Please Review. You know I love them
--Draco'z Devil

To Be Continued.
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