A Space Between Worlds

Chapter Seven:

Someone at the Door

"Oh, somewhere deep inside of these bones,

An emptiness began to grow

There's something out there, far from my home

A longing that I've never known."

--Jack from "The Nightmare Before Christmas"

Harry had long ago fallen into a trance-like state, the fire's rhythmic crackling and Leo's slow breathing calming his restless mind. He was vaguely aware of the sun rising outside the window, casting a red glow about the land. He wondered at the sting in his eyes before he realized that he hadn't blinked in an hour.

"Harry."

Harry jumped, yet somehow Leo managed to remain sleeping. He looked about himself wildly. Who had called his name? There didn't appear to be anyone in the room with him. And then his eyes fell upon the fireplace.

Dumbledore stood there, brushing his violet robes off as he stepped out onto the hearth.

"Professor..." Harry began, standing and moving towards the old wizard.

"Is Leo asleep?" Dumbledore said. His tone was brisk and to the point. It was obvious he was in a hurry.

"Er...yes..." Harry said, glancing behind himself.

"Wake him quickly."

Harry didn't question what he had been told, and walked over to the boy, who was curled up like a cat on the couch.

"Leo..." Harry gave his shoulders a gentle shake.

Leo opened one blurry, hazel eye and looked up at Harry. He immediately sat up. "Is mum back? And dad?"

"No," Harry said, "it's Professor Dumbledore."

Leo immediately became nervous. He looked over at the old wizard. "Professor...my parents...where...?"

Dumbledore held up a long-fingered hand. "I'm not hear to bring news of you family, Leo. In truth, I know nothing about how they, or anyone else for that matter, are at the moment. I am here to bring you to the Weasleys."

"Why?" Leo asked.

"Because someone needs to watch you."

"Apollo is--"

"Apollo needs to come with me," Dumbledore said.

Harry looked over at him. "What? Where, sir?"

Dumbledore didn't answer, but instead ushered the two younger wizards towards the fireplace. He nodded for Leo to go into it, and the boy did so, looking confused, eyes still full of sleep.

Dumbledore handed him the bowl of Floo Powder, and Leo took a handful of the dust. "Where do the Weasleys live again?"

"Just say 'the Burrow'," Dumbledore replied. "Go on now, quickly."

With one last bewildered look at Harry, Leo shouted: "The Burrow!" and flung the powder down onto the burnt logs beneath his feet.

Green flames shot up and engulfed Leo. When they died, the boy had gone.

Dumbledore turned to Harry then, face much graver than it usually was. Harry guessed where they were going before the older wizard said.

"You want me to help fight."

Dumbledore nodded. "It's against my better judgment, for you are still in school and to place such an important figure as yourself in harm's way seems foolish, but I also believe that you can take care of yourself. Besides, we have little choice in the matter."

Harry felt a cold dread rising in his stomach. "What is happening in Sarehole, sir?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "I've not yet been there, so I cannot tell you first hand, but I've heard that we are losing. There are just too many Death Eaters. More than we calculated."

"What can I do?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore's clear blue eyes stared hard into Harry's green ones. "You have a power in you, Harry. I don't know exactly what it is yet, but the more you use your known powers, the more chances that the unknown will show itself." Harry had no idea what Dumbledore was speaking of, but he nodded his head anyway.

"Why haven't you been there yet to help, sir?" Harry asked suddenly. He thought that Dumbledore would have been first on the scene to help out the Order against the Death Eaters.

"Alas," Dumbledore said, "my presence would perhaps cause more harm than good. You see, Harry, my being there and fighting alongside the Order would give the Death Eaters little chance to fight back. Therefore, Voldemort would be forced to join the fight also, to aid his hordes. With Voldemort there, things would only turn uglier. I had planned on staying out of the battle in Sarehole, but things are getting out of hand. I fear that when I arrive, Voldemort will also come." He looked at Harry. "Do you understand?"

Harry nodded.

"If in the case Voldemort does arrive, I want you to make sure that your identity is kept hidden from him. We cannot afford to let him know who you truly are. In fact, Harry, I think it best that you try to avoid him at all costs. Your time to confront Voldemort will come, but it will not be today.

"And now, we must go."

Harry climbed into the fireplace, taking a handful of Floo Powder with him. Dumbledore nodded to him, and Harry said, as clearly as he could: "Sarehole!"

The green flames licked gently at his face and hands as he spun around and around, watching grate after grate fly before him, before he finally stopped and stumbled out onto a hearth.

The hearth that he stood upon was practically all that was left of the house that at one time had stood here. The front half of it had been blown apart and the roof had collapsed. Everywhere people were screaming or moaning or running about like it was the apocalypse.

It was hard for Harry to believe that less than five minutes ago he had been sitting on a couch in Godric's Hollow, wondering about what was happening, while Leo slept beside him. Everything seemed to be happening so fast. But he supposed that that was how war was: quick-paced and sudden, leaving no room for thoughts that held less importance than survival.

Dumbledore appeared in the grate behind him, and immediately set off towards what had once been the front of the house. Harry, having never been in a situation like this and not knowing what to do, followed.

He had only gone a few paces when Dumbledore turned and stopped him. "I do not want you to follow me, Harry," he said. "Where I am will things be the most dangerous, the most deadly. I want you to stay far away from where I am. And be very careful. Do not choose to battle with the real important Death Eaters such as Lucius Malfoy and the Lestranges, if you can help it. Stay close to aurors and other members of the Order. They will help you if you need it."

With that, Dumbledore turned and hurried away. And Harry, obeying the old headmaster, ran in the other direction.

***

Remus lay on his bed, his knees bent towards the ceiling, resting paperwork for the Order on them. He reread the same sentence for the fifth time, without realizing what it said.

All plans of action shall be carried out with, first, a preparatory meeting.

Remus wondered if any of this was really worth it. Any of the fighting. They weren't going to win without Dumbledore. They definitely weren't going to win without Harry.

All plans of action...

But he had to fight. It was his duty. He would not give up on what he believed in just because the going got tough.

...shall be carried out...

Tough indeed it was going. They were losing allies. They were losing friends. They were losing.

...with, first, a preparatory meeting.

Remus wondered how easy it would be to escape the United Kingdom like so many had been doing. Just runaway. Make a new life. Take a new name. Pretend you never heard of Voldemort or Dumbledore or Harry Potter...

All plans...

But then he remembered Harry, and everything that James and Lily had lived and died for. They had had everything in the world to lose, and did they runaway? No! They had stood bravely and fought.

...of action...

Thinking of Harry also made Remus think of Sirius. Sirius had risked not only his life, but his freedom, to save his godson. How could Remus even consider leaving when his friends had been so brave and selfless?

...shall be...

Ah, but not all his friends had been brave and selfless. Would he be like Peter and save his own skin, not caring about the others he hurt, the others he would sacrifice? And what about when (or if) Harry came back from this secret mission of his? Would he return to find that his former professor had runaway in despair and cowardice? Did he want Harry to think of him that way? Harry, who at this very moment was probably risking his life for all of them, would come home to discover that Remus Lupin had been afraid to stand and fight?

...of action shall be carried out...

Thoughts of Harry sealed his determination that had been wavering on and off all summer. Harry would come through for them. Harry would find away. And he, Remus, would be anxiously awaiting his return, ready to help him in whatever way he could. He would make sure that Harry would not come home to find everyone he loved had gone.

...carried out...

And he would come home, God damn it.

...preparatory meeting.

Remus sighed, the quiet in his room at Grimmauld Place making it easy to dwell on unpleasant thoughts...not that he had any other type of thoughts as of late.

...preparatory...

He let his knees drop back down onto the mattress. He grimaced as he straightened them. Either he was getting old or he had been holding them in that position for far longer than he realized. He picked up the papers and tried one more time to read.

All plans of...

The words swam before his eyes. He glanced over at his bedside table to see how late it was. It was only eight-thirty in the evening. Perhaps he just needed glasses. But glasses reminded him too much of Harry, and he returned back to the Order papers, forcing all other thoughts out of his mind.

All fucking plans of fucking action must be fucked with...

He snorted in annoyance. God, he was tired.

Preparatory plans of action must be planned with...

Wait. That didn't make sense. Had he read that right?

But before he could once more return to his attempted reading, there was a knock at his door.

"Come in," he said in a hoarse voice.

But no one did.

He paused, staring at the door in curiosity. He could hear someone standing on the other side; he could see their shadow beneath the door.

"Er...door's unlocked. Come in."

Still, the person in the hall outside didn't move.

"Who's there?"

"Don't know," said a voice that must have come from whoever it was that was standing there.

Remus stiffened. What kind of answer was that? Perhaps it was the twins come to mess with the mind of their former professor. Well, Remus would have none of that.

He stood up, feeling ruffled and in a mood to take out his frustration on someone other than his left thumbnail.

He was about to put his hand on the doorknob, when the person spoke again, sending chills down his spine.

"Don't open the door."

The voice was oddly familiar. He knew that voice. He knew that he knew that voice.

How did he know that voice?

"Who are you? Fred? George? I'm a titch busy at the moment..."

"I don't know who you're talking about."

Remus paused for a moment. He knew that the voice did not belong to either of the twins, not unless they had somehow discovered a way to alter their vocal cords.

"Then who are you?"

"Don't know."

Remus gave an audible sigh, but only so that he could calm the tenseness in his muscles. He was beginning to feel rather frightened, and foolishly so. Why didn't he just open the door and see who it was and send them away?

"Don't open the door," the voice said again, as though it could read his mind.

"Well," Remus said, trying to sound reasonable in a very strange situation, "since you don't know who you are, let me see you and tell you. Your voice is familiar to me. I know that I know you from somewhere."

"We have not met before."

The lupine instincts that were always with Remus were prickling with fear and nervousness. Who the hell was the person?

"What do you want?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know much of anything, do you?" Remus tried to keep the quaver out of his voice. The hopes that the twins were going to swing open the door and have a good laugh at pranking him were swiftly dying.

"I know that I am here."

"Well that's good, isn't it? And I suppose that you know how to count as well?"

"I know that you are here."

"I've had enough of this."

"I just don't know why I am here."

"What a coincidence, neither do I."

"I don't know why you are here either."

"This is getting ridiculous." Remus said. He put his hand on the doorknob, but a wave of electricity seemed to jolt through his palm, and he let go of the door with a small cry of pain.

"I can't let you see me."

Remus was angry and scared. "Why?"

"I don't know."

Remus let out an irritated noise, more like a snarl than anything else.

"You are a werewolf."

"So?" snapped Remus.

"I think I once knew a werewolf."

"Good. I don't care."

"It wasn't you, though."

"Go away."

"Can't."

"Why? No, wait. Let me guess. You don't know why."

Suddenly the voice made a noise halfway between a sob and a laugh.

"Help me."

"How the hell am I supposed to do that?"

"I don't--"

"Know. You don't know. Sorry I asked."

"What is your name?"

"Remus Lupin. Now will you please let me out of my room? Perhaps I can find someone to help you."

"No one can see me," the voice said softly. "I don't know why," he added before Remus could ask.

"Wonderful. I think I've actually gone mad."

"What was your name again?"

"I've just told you. Remus Lupin."

There was a pause. Then,

"I once knew a Remus Lupin, I think. Not you, though. It couldn't have been you."

"Remus Lupin isn't a very common name, you know. Or perhaps you don't know?"

It sounded as though the voice were suddenly crying. "Please help me."

Remus was feeling rather absurd. There he was, having a conversation with someone who didn't know anything, while an impenetrable door stood between them.

"Listen, whoever you are, I wish I could help you..."

"Please."

"I can't."

"You have to."

"I don't know how to help you."

"Don't be silly, Remus, of course you know how to help me. You were the Defense teacher at Hogwarts. I'd think that you of all people would know how to banish a boggart."

Remus shot up into a sitting position. Molly Weasley was standing in the doorway to his room, looking at him in an almost amused way.

"I'm sorry, Molly," Remus said, rubbing his eyes sleepily. "Did you say something about a boggart?"

"Yes. There's one in the third floor cupboard. It's been banging around quite a bit. I was wondering if you could help me with it."

"Oh, yes, of course."

Remus got up, still feeling rather shaken from his dream, or nightmare rather, and followed Molly out into the hallway.

Remus was glad that it had just been a dream, but he couldn't help notice that his right palm was a shade redder than it should have been, as though it had been burnt.

***

Harry was at a loss at what to do. He had fought Death Eaters before and was skilled in Defense Against the Dark Arts enough to know how to duel properly, but he had never been in a full-out battle before. The closest he'd ever gotten to a real one was the one at the Ministry of Magic over a year ago.

He ducked down behind a bush, planning what he was to do next. It was hard to discern which Death Eater would be the best one to take on. They all seemed to be well-trained in the Dark Arts.

And then suddenly a brown, bushy-haired girl caught in his peripheral vision. Harry's jaw dropped so far that he could almost taste the dirt beneath him.

The girl was skidding along small trees and shrubs, wand held tightly in front of her. Harry could barely bring himself to comprehend what he was seeing. What on earth was she doing there?

"Hermione?" Harry exclaimed before he could stop himself.

She was standing a few yards away, and hadn't seemed to see him until he spoke. She looked around at him, brow furrowed, wand pointing defensively at his heart, as though he may attack her.

"What the hell are you doing here, Hermione?"

Hermione frowned harder. "Who are you? How do you know my name?"

"Er..." Oh great going, Potter. Now what do you tell her? "I...er...know Ron...and he's...er...shown me pictures of you..."

"Ron Weasley? Why would he have pictures of me?"

Harry was a bit taken aback by this statement. "Aren't you...er...friends?"

Hermione managed a snort of mirthless laughter despite the chaos that was going on about them. "No. He's a great ugly git."

"Oh...er..."

"Stupify!" shouted a nearby voice. The spell hit Hermione in the chest and she doubled over.

Harry shot up from where he was hiding and aimed a spell at the Death Eater who had attacked them.

The Death Eater fell down, mask slipping off his face to reveal an ugly, thin-faced man. Harry paid him no mind though, as he raced over to Hermione.

"Are you all right?" he asked, after reviving her.

"Yes," she gasped, looking up at him. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it. Come on, let's get out of here."

They raced along the edge of the battle, ducking and dodging spells. They finally reached a low outcropping in which they were able to hide for the time being, until they could better coordinate themselves.

"Why are you here?" Harry asked, as they lay low, catching their breath.

"I live nearby," Hermione said, nodding behind her. "In Birmingham. I saw the battle from where I lived. At first I didn't know what it was, but when I saw that none of the Muggles noticed it, I realized that it must be something to do with magic. So I came up here to see if I could help." She looked over at him. "Are you an auror?"

"What? No, I'm not even out of school yet."

"Hogwarts?"

"Yeah."

"What year?"

"I'm going into my seventh."

Hermione cocked an eye at him. "Really? What house?"

Harry was about to say "Gryffindor", but as he was not officially sorted into a house in this world, he said instead: "I dunno yet. I'm new, you see. Haven't been sorted."

"Oh," Hermione said. "I'm a seventh year, too."

"I know," Harry said, and then mentally kicked himself for doing so.

Hermione smiled though. "I guess Weasley's told you a lot about me then, eh?"

"Er...yeah..." Suddenly he gave her a suspicious look. "So, your parents just let you come up here?" If Hermione's parents in this world were anything like the ones in his world, they would hardly let their only child going skipping off into a battle.

"Well," Hermione looked a bit sheepish, "I didn't exactly ask permission, you know. I went before they got up this morning and left them a note saying that I had gone shopping--"

A flash of white light flew past them then, grazing Harry's shoulder. Harry hissed, laying his hand over the burn that the spell had left on his robes.

Another spell came whizzing towards them, but this time Harry was ready. He leapt to the side, pushing Hermione down as he pressed himself against the dewy ground. He could feel Hermione's heartbeat echoing in his ear, her breath coming in with quick gulps.

"I have a feeling that I'm going to owe you a whole lot by the time this day's over."

"Let's just get through the day first before we worry about that," Harry answered, sitting up again. He looked about carefully. There were three Death Eaters standing close to where they were he and Hermione were taking cover. Fighting them were two women that Harry immediately recognized as Alice Longbottom and Lily.

"Come on," Harry said, taking Hermione's hand. "We've got to help them."

They ran out from their hiding spot, wands held at the ready.

***

Somehow, Lily had found herself separated from the rest of the Order. She was now on the outskirts of the battle, searching desperately for a friendly face while trying to hold back the Death Eaters that seemed determined to attack her and only her.

She was relieved beyond words when Alice came up alongside her, round face shining with sweat.

"Need a hand?"

"I could kiss you, Alice," Lily said.

"You'd best not," the auror replied, dodging a hex and sending one of her own. "Both Frank and James would get jealous."

Lily rolled her eyes. "Men."

Three Death Eaters were encircling them, but luckily for the two women, they were rather thick-headed. It seemed the further you were from the center of the fight, the less intelligent Voldemort's servants became.

Lily raised her wand above her head, taking aim at one of the Death Eaters, when he suddenly went rigid, promptly falling forward onto his face. Lily could not help but stare at who it was that stood behind her fallen enemy.

"Apollo!"

The girl that was with him shouted a spell at one of the other Death Eaters, who went down quickly, just like his colleague.

The remaining one looked about at the wizard and three witches that now surrounded him and, panicking, tried to Apparate, managing only to get himself splinched. A masked head fell with a dull thud onto the wet grass, the body know where to be found.

Lily had a moment of indecision about whether or not to help him, but realized quickly that she had no idea how, since she didn't know where the rest of the body had gone.

A scream from far off answered that question for her.

Lily looked at the others. "Alice, take his head."

Alice grimaced but did as she was told, holding it out in front of herself as though it were a terrible plague.

"Now," Lily said, turning to face Apollo, her green eyes narrowed, "what are you doing here?"

"Dumbledore asked me to come," Apollo said quickly.

"Dumbledore?" The girl asked sharply, but the others ignored her.

"And what about Leo?" Lily asked shrilly, a million and one terrible scenarios of Things-That-Could-Happen-To-Leo running through her mind.

"He's safe," Apollo hastened to reassure. "He's at the Weasleys."

"Ugh...Lily," Alice was saying, voice full of disgust as she continued to hold the Death Eater's head as far away from her as she could, "could we please find the body now?"

"You sure he's safe?" Lily asked, feeling as though her entire existence depended upon a positive answer.

"Yes," Apollo said. "Dumbledore sent him there himself."

"Lily! It's DROOLING on me!"

"Oh, Merlin," Lily said, looking around at the chaos about her and trying her best to think clearly as a thousand worries crammed her skull. "Right, let's go, Alice. You two," she added, pointing at Apollo and the girl, "you come with us. Stay close and don't do anything stupid."

***

"Padfoot...what are you doing?"

Sirius's face was mere inches from James's as he examined his friend's wounded head.

"Attempting to snog you senseless, what else?"

"I'm not in a snogging mood exactly."

"Don't be such a prat," Sirius scolded lightly. "I'm checking to make sure you're not going to die. Besides, you're far too dirty at the moment to be snogged."

"I always thought dirty was kind of sexy though."

"Prongs."

"Yes?"

"Do you want another concussion?"

James shook his head, which only served to make him feel dizzier. "Ugh," he said.

"Ugh," Sirius agreed, patting James on the shoulder. "Now be a good patient and sit still."

"Since when did you become a healer?" James said, grimacing as Sirius prodded his head.

"They taught us some healing techniques in auror training," Sirius said absently, continuing his search for God-Knows-What in James's hair.

"I still don't understand how a great wanker like you became an auror."

"Skill, Prongs, skill...Did you just call me a wanker?"

"Did I? Hmm...perhaps I did."

"You're lucky you're injured, that's all I can say."

"Wait, are you saying that I'm lucky I'm injured because if I weren't, you'd injure me?"

"Spot on, James."

"Your logic defies reason."

"As does your hair," Sirius said, leaning back and regarding James's mop with a bemused face. "Honestly, how do you live with it?"

"Well I'm sorry that we can't all be perfect gods like you."

"Tragic, isn't it?"

Sirius scooted up beside James where he sat against the remaining wall. Before their eyes the battle raged and all around them the cries of the dying echoed in their minds. Somewhere out there in the field beyond the ruined shack Sirius knew that a red-haired woman was fighting. He just hoped that she was not alone.

And then the memory flooded back to him: the memory of the dream he had had. He had almost forgotten about it, what with all the confusion and terror about him. Yet now it came back easily to him, and he felt the need to share what he had seen with someone.

"James?"

"Hmm?"

"A couple of hours ago, before I got here..."

A scream pierced the air. It was a woman.

Sirius immediately thought of Lily and how James would never forgive himself if something happened to her.

"I'll be right back, Prongs," he said, leaping to his feet and running, bad arm or not, towards the origin of the scream.

"Where are you going?" James asked nervously.

"I'll be right back," Sirius repeated placating him and continuing to race off.

What he saw shocked him. A body, headless yet still quite alive, was gambling about the battle field, knocking into everyone, Death Eaters and Order members alike. The woman who had screamed turned out to be Hestia Jones. She was watching the morbid sight with wide, horrified eyes.

"Hestia," Sirius said, coming up alongside her, "what is that?"

"I don't know," said Hestia, her voice barely audible above the mixed noise of shouted curses, spells, screams, and general confusion.

"He's been splinched," said an out-of-breath voice, and Sirius and Hestia turned to see Lily moving towards them, Alice following behind with a masked head in her hands.

Alice wasted no time rushing over to the body and trying to replace the head. Meanwhile Sirius looked over at Lily, relieved to her looking unharmed, if not a bit tired and bruised.

"I thought I told you to stay with James," Lily said crossly. "Where is he?"

"Where you left him," Sirius answered. "And I was with him, the whole time. I just left a moment ago to see if you were all right..." He trailed off, having noticed for the first time Apollo and a bushy-haired girl standing side by side behind Lily.

"Apollo...what in the world--"

"Dumbledore brought him here," Lily said shortly.

"And Leo?"

"Weasleys," Lily replied.

"Er...a little help here...please..."

They all turned to see Alice struggling to keep the body still so that she could reattach the head.

"Oh, sorry Alice," Lily said, and went over to help her. But just as they were about to place the head on the Death Eater's shoulders, there was a burst of light that blinded everyone open the field.

Like a wave, a silence and a stillness passed through the ranks of Order members, Ministry Aurors, and Death Eaters. They stood, side by side, enemy with enemy, all watching with wide eyes as Voldemort made his presence known upon the field of battle. The bushy-haired girl beside Apollo gasped and Alice shrunk behind Sirius. Lily was frozen on the spot, hands now clutching the still-detached head.

Dumbledore approached Voldemort, looking confident and more angry than afraid. Voldemort's unnaturally bright eyes were narrowed dangerously and he fingered his wand in a deadly fashion. For a moment no one moved, no one spoke, no one even breathed. And then a whispered voice sounded in Sirius's ear.

"Sirius...who is that?"

***

Harry watched with comic detachment as Lily and Alice struggled to hold to headless Death Eater still. That was, until, a blinding light shot through the crowd, and the battle seemed to have been put on pause.

A tall, older man, though still well in his prime, was now standing on the field amidst the frozen battle. He was dark-robed and regal-looking, and seemed unafraid of everything that was going on about him. He had black hair and piercing eyes that were anything but friendly and warm and inviting as they swept about the field with disdain.

It wasn't until Dumbledore appeared before him did the man's expression change from annoyance to undeniable hatred.

Hermione gasped at the sight of the man and pressed herself into Harry. But Harry himself did not feel necessarily afraid of this man, like everyone else seemed to be. Instead he was intensely confused, and wondered why the fighting had stopped when he came.

With Hermione clinging onto him, Harry edged over to Sirius and whispered, so as not to draw unneeded attention to himself: "Sirius...who is that?"

Sirius swiveled around to face him, looking incredulous. "What?" he hissed.

"Who's that man?" Harry whispered again.

"Apollo," Sirius said, looking shocked, "that's...that's Voldemort."

Harry gave a soft oh! and returned his gaze to the unfamiliar Dark Lord. Well, this is unexpected.

***

Tonks, Remus, Molly, Arthur, and Bill were all sitting by the fireside in the basement of Grimmauld Place drinking hot coffee. Each face was pensive and no one spoke, eyes watching the fire, their coffee cups, or the floor.

Tonks was just going over in her mind their latest defeat at the hands of the enemy, when Remus straightened suddenly and stood, placing his cup gently down upon the table. Tonks watched him as he went to the stairs and walked up them, pausing at the closed door.

He didn't open the door, just stared at it, a strange look upon his face.

"Remus?" Tonks asked, and the others also looked up and over at him. "Remus?" she asked again.

He turned to look at them, the oddest expression she had ever seen present in his eyes.

"What's wrong?" Tonks said, standing and making to move towards him.

"There's someone at the door," he answered in shaking tones.

There was a beat of confused silence that followed this announcement. Tonks had not heard anyone at the door, nor apparently did any of the others, but Remus was a werewolf, perhaps he could sense a presence while others couldn't.

But if there was someone behind the door, why didn't he or she make themselves known?

Unless, of course, they didn't want to be known.

"Well, see who it is, Remus dear," Molly said, breaking the silence.

Remus looked reluctant to do so. His hand was held in midair, inches away from the handle, yet he did not touch it.

Tonks walked forward slowly, cautiously. She stopped at the foot of the stairs and looked up at Remus.

"Why won't you open the door?"

He looked at her and then at the others, who were also gathering at the foot of the stairs. Then he turned back to the door and whispered, "Go away."

Whenever Tonks felt nervous, she got angry; angry at herself for not being in charge of a situation. "Well, we can't go away, you know," she said shortly. "You're blocking the way out."

"No, not you," Remus said quickly. "I was talking to..." he waved a hand weakly at the door.

Tonks stomped up the stairs, and then peeked beneath the crack under the doorway. There were no feet standing there, no hem of robes, not even a shadow.

"There's no one there, Remus," Tonks said, as though convincing a small child that there are no monsters in his closet.

Remus looked disbelieving, and checked under the door himself. "Actually," he said, squatting by the crack, "there is. I can see someone's shadow."

Tonks frowned. She knelt beside him, checking again for herself. "Well, there's a shadow from the troll leg umbrella st--"

"No!" Remus said, sounding very angry and frustrated. "You can't see the shadow right there? Right by the door?"

Tonks looked at him closely and for the first time in her life was afraid of the werewolf. He looked half-mad, his eyes wide and bestial and his hands white and shaking.

"Remus...there's no one there..."

Bill came up the stairs then, and pushed the door open.

There was no one there.

Everyone was looking at Remus, who had exchanged his normally pale complexion with a furious red one.

Tonks brushed back her tomato-red hair with a hand, and looked anxiously around, trying to find whatever humor there was in the situation. There wasn't any.

"There was someone there," Remus said, more so to convince himself than the others. "I'm not mad. There was someone there."

"Right then," said Arthur lightly. "Well, whoever it was is gone now. And Merlin, look at the time! Bill and I'd best be off for work." He leaned forward and kissed Molly on the cheek, then smiled around at the others. "See you later then?"

"See you," Tonks said.

"And I should get back home for a bit," Molly said, following her husband's lead and trying to act as if nothing had just happened. "I'll be back later tonight."

When the three oldest Weasleys had Apparated away, Tonks and Remus were left standing awkwardly in the hall.

"There was someone there," he said again, his eyes pleading as he looked at her. "I could here him."

"Remus--"

"I am not mad, Tonks," he said fervently.

"I know you're not," she said consolingly. "It's just...no one else heard anything, Remus. I couldn't see anything under the door. Only you could."

"But why?" He began to pace slightly. "Why me?"

Tonks didn't answer but followed his progress with her eyes. He stopped abruptly and looked at her.

"He'll come back."

"How do you know?"

"This isn't the first he's come. He came last night. He stood behind my door. I thought I was dreaming but..."

"Who is he?"

"I don't know. He won't say."

"What does he look like?"

"I haven't seen him. He always stands behind the door. He won't let me see him."

Tonks looked down at her hands, wishing more than ever that Sirius was here. He would know the right thing to say to Remus. He would know what to do and how to help. Tonks had no idea how to proceed.

"You don't believe me, do you?" Remus said, amber eyes fixed on her.

"It's not that, Remus," she said. "I just think that, well, you've been through a hard time lately, we all have, and maybe it's finally getting to us all--"

Remus growled slightly. "This has nothing to do with Harry or Dumbledore or Sir--"

"The point, Remus," Tonks interrupted, "is that...oh hell, I don't know what the point is!" She threw her hands up in the air as a sign of defeat. "Fine, if you say that there was someone there, then I'll believe you. I'll believe you because you're Remus Lupin and you've never lied before. And I know you're not crazy, even if you do act it sometimes, even if you are a monster once a month, even if the Ministry of Magic has got you classified as an animal rather than a human, even if--"

"All right, I get the point." But he was smiling slightly, the small smile of a man who was immensely grateful for a vote of confidence.

She smiled back.