The Dark Lords Daughter *completed*

Farewells of Summer

My eyes flutter and I winced at the bright light. Looking around I notice I'm back in the infirmary, to my left laid an empty bed and to my right...I smiled, Harry sat talking to Professor Dumbledore.

"Ron was here? Is he alright? What about Hermione?" He paused. "What about Anna?" Dumbledore smiled and glanced over to my bed.

"Why don't you see for yourself?" He said, gesturing towards me. Harry turned and our eyes met, I smiled tiredly.

"Hi." I rasped, throat dry and sore.

"Hi." Dumbledore cleared his throat and smiled kindly at me.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, Miss Lockheart." He winked at me and I blushed.

"Good to be back." He nodded.

"But what happened to the stone?" Harry panicked.

"Relax dear boy. The stone has been destroyed. My friend Nicholas and I had a little chat and agreed it best all round." I blinked and looked into the headmasters sad face.

"But, Flamel? He'll die wont he?" Harry questioned and Dumbledore took a seat on his bed.

"He has enough Elixir to set his affairs in order, but yes. He will die."

"How is it I got the stone, sir?" Harry fired another question at the elderly man. "One second I was staring into the mirror and the next..."

"Ahh..." The professor nodded "You see, only a person who wanted to find the stone. Find it, but not use it, would be able to get it. That's one of my more brilliant ideas, and between you two and me,that's saying something." I smiled at him and sighed.

"Does that mean, with the stone gone, I mean, that Voldemort can never come back?" Harry asked hopefully and I froze in my mattress.

"There are ways in which he can return." The headmaster sighed. "Harry, do you know why Professor Quirrell couldn't stand you to touch him?" Harry shook his head. "It's because of your mother. She sacrificed herself for you and that type of act leaves a mark." Harrys hand flew to his scar and Dumbledore shook his head.

"No, no. This mark cannot be seen, it lives in your very skin?"

"What is it?" The green eyed boy asked, staring up at his idol in amazement.

"Love, Harry, love." Dumbledore patted the black hair on the boys head and stood. "Ah, Berty bot's every flavoured beans." He chuckled, examining the packet. "I was most unfortunate in my youth to come across a vomit flavoured one and since then I seemed to have lost my liking for them. But I think I'll be safe with a nice toffee" I watched as he plucked a caramel coloured bean from the tub and pop zit into his mouth. He chewed quickly.

"Alas...earwax." I giggled and he turned to face me, his eyes shining. He nods politely to us both and walked out of the room. I tried to sit up and winced at a stabbing pain in my side.

"You look dreadful." Harry chuckled and I gasped out a laugh, glancing over to him, bandaged and bruised.

"Speak for yourself." I hissed again as I shuffled in the wrong direction and the stabbing pain returned.

"Broken ribs." An accented voice called from the door. Looking over I smiled tiredly.

"Four of them." Oliver continued walking over to our beds. In his hand he clutched a bunch of flowers. He stopped, looking at me.

"You look terrible." He chuckled and I frowned.

"Why do people keep saying that?" I huffed.

"Probably cause you do." Harry piped up.