Hunted

Chapter 25: In the Line of Fire

Deep in the bowels of Malfoy Manor, Ravena crept down the dank hallway with stealthy tread in search of that enchanted gem, the Phoenix. Harry, Ron, and Hermione trailed behind, their anxious glances surveying the corridor over their drawn wands. Snape guarded the rear, following like an inky shadow.

The rough, stone passage, lit at intervals with torches, meandered through the underbelly of the mansion. Here and there wooden portals with heavy brass handles dotted the corridor, passages to unknown chambers. Footsteps and voices echoed ahead in the tunnel, coming ever closer. Ravena froze. Her hand flew out to stop their progress.

With alarm, she grabbed for the nearest door handle. To her surprise, the door offered no resistance. She slipped into the darkened interior of the room and ushered the others inside after her. Her fingers closed the door behind them.

A sickening odor of death and decay filled her nostrils. She clamped her hand over face to suppress her gag reflex. She held her breath and waited. The footfalls and murmurs retreated down the passageway, replaced by an unnatural silence.

"Eww!" Ron whispered in the darkness. "What is that smell?"

Blue lights erupted from the tips of four wands, illuminating the room in their glow. Hermione gasped and opened her mouth to scream. Snape's hand clamped over her mouth, stifling her cries. Ravena's gaze swept over the eerie sight of three cadavers laid out on the floor. Six eyes stared up at the ceiling, unseeing. Identical looks of surprise and horror remained frozen on the faces of the corpses.

"Professor Ashbury?" Harry muttered, recognizing the first corpse.

"Actually, that's Bilius Gnash," Ravena remarked with a wry smirk. "Otherwise known as the Black Gauntlet. He was only posing as a Muggle Studies professor."

"Well, that explains why he didn't teach anything all term," Ron said. "All he did was play wonky old music and read from a boring book." He rolled his eyes. "Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. And it wasn't even about motorcycles. Most of the class skived off his lessons and he never noticed."

Snape's head whipped around to cast Ron a withering glare.

"N-not me," Ron hastily added.

"Of course not," Snape retorted, an ironic tone betraying his incredulity. "While Muggle philosophy is not what I would consider a worthy pursuit, I am appalled at your attitude toward your studies, Weasley." A derisive sneer appeared on Snape's face. "Appalled, but unfortunately not surprised, given your inattention in my own classes."

Ron's face flushed scarlet. He looked away and pointed to the second cadaver. "Who's the old lady?"

"Your mother, Ravena?" Snape shot her a quizzical stare.

"Yes." Ravena nodded. "Bellatrix did this to her." She looked away. Moisture glistened in her eyes. "As hideous as the old hag was to me, she died trying to protect me." She pointed a slender finger toward the third body. "Any idea who she was?"

"Prudence Crutch," Snape replied. "Librarian at the National Wizarding Archives. She secretly worked for Dumbledore."

"Well, I've seen enough," Ravena mused. "We'd best get out of here, unless we want to end up like one of them."

Ravena pressed her ear to the door and listened. Then she opened the door a crack and peered out into the hallway. The coast was clear. Her hand beckoned them to follow. She skulked down the corridor, casting furtive glances into the shadows with every step.

They traveled in the gloomy passageway for a while without speaking. Then Ravena paused in front of a heavy door with an elaborately-crafted handle, a reptilian head. Her gaze swept around her, gathering her bearings which had become disoriented from the serpentine windings of the hallway. She glanced at her companions with an uncertain stare.

"I think this is the room," she whispered.

Her hand reached for the knob with a hesitant touch. She grasped the handle and pulled. The door would not budge.

"It's locked," she whispered. "That's a good sign."

"Allow me," Snape said. He pushed his way past the students. "Aholamora!"

The lock clicked. The door swung open. Ravena peeked inside, a smile spreading across her face. Her delighted eyes whisked over the extensive weapons cache that filled the walls. Daggers and enchanted blades of all descriptions filled glass cases. A vast collection of swords were mounted in brackets on one wall along with crossbows, maces, pikes, battle-axes, a cat-o'-nine-tails, and other weapons of medieval combat. There was even a cabinet containing a collection of antique revolvers and muskets.

"I have to hand it to Lucius," Ravena remarked, licking her ruby lips. "He does know his weapons."

She strolled into the room and motioned for the others to follow. Ron, Hermione, and Harry entered, their mouths hanging agape. Ravena sprinted to the glass case, eyeing the daggers with an appreciative stare. Her fingers selected a goblin-forged blade, light and razor-sharp. She turned the dagger over in her fingers, admiring the workmanship and the feel of the weapon. Then she tucked the dagger down into a hidden sheath inside her boot. Her gaze flicked to the others.

"Well, don't just stand there gaping." Ravena gave them an eager wave. "Choose a weapon. You never know what might come in handy."

"Wicked!" Ron intoned, his freckled face breaking into a broad grin.

"Brilliant." Harry nudged Ron. His green eyes sparkled.

The two young men dashed into the room, eyeing the weapons like two kids in a candy shop. Ron went for a cutlass with a lethal-looking curved blade. He took it in his right hand and gave it a practice wave, slicing the air with a satisfying ringing sound. Ravena watched him and shook her head.

"You'd best put that back," she warned. "Reserve your right hand for your wand. A dagger is a better choice." She selected a small, unimpressive blade and held it in her outstretched arm. "Small and light enough to handle with your left."

Ron's shoulders drooped. A crest-fallen look appeared on the young man's face. With reluctance, he replaced the cutlass on the wall and took the knife from her hand. He eyed with weapon with a look of obvious disappointment.

"A lot of bloody good this'll do," he muttered under his breath.

Ravena handed a similar knife to Harry. He put down the halberd that he'd been admiring. He shrugged, cast his best friend a sympathetic look, and pocketed the weapon.

"How about you, Hermione? Severus?" Ravena inquired.

Both shook their heads. Snape, who had positioned himself to guard the door, cast Ravena an impatient glare. She grabbed a crossbow and a leather pouch of bolts and fled the room. Her head motioned down the corridor.

Another door with an elaborate knob appeared a short distance away. Ravena stopped, tried the door handle, and signaled to Snape. Once again, he uttered an incantation and the door drifted open. Ravena crept inside, now certain that she'd found the right room.

The chamber was a basement laboratory, much like the one her mother had used to brew her deadly concoctions. A large cauldron simmered in the corner, noxious vapors rising from its shimmering surface. Ravena grimaced with disgust. Snape's overlarge nose lifted, nostrils flaring. He inhaled.

"Mandrake essence, powdered unicorn horn, and asphodel," he mused, cocking an eyebrow with a puzzled look. "Interesting!" He sniffed once more. "And there's another odor...what is that? Yew?" His eyebrows shot up in a look of surprise.

Ravena eyed the contents of the cauldron with indifference. She approached the nearest stone table. The others followed. Shards of what had been a large garnet-colored gem lay scattered across the surface. Beside the fractured gem a skeletal hand twitched, bones rattling with spasms.

Ravena moved to the next table. She eyed the charred remains of a whalebone horn. The exquisite ornamentation carved into the piece was still distinguishable as a silvery outline on the blackened surface of the ivory. Her fingers lifted the delicate piece with a gentle touch and held it for the others to view.

"What is it?" Hermione asked, gazing at the ivory with an inquisitive stare.

"The Horn of Life," Snape answered. "When ground to a powder, it is possessed of tremendous healing power. Just a pinch added to a potion can bring a person back even from the brink of death."

"But that is not it's only magic, Severus," Ravena added, placing the horn back on the table. "Legend records that when blown, the horn will summon our loved ones from beyond the grave."

Harry's green eyes opened wide. Before anyone could prevent him, he snatched the horn, pressed it to his lips, and blew with all his might. Although Harry's cheeks bulged from the effort, no sound came from the horn. Harry pursed his lips a second time and blew even harder. Still nothing happened.

"It didn't work!" Harry's face flushed with disappointment.

Hermione put her hand on his shoulder to comfort her friend. Ron cast him an understanding look. A kindly smile worked on Ravena's lips.

"That is always the problem with Dark objects," she warned. "Oh, they do work. But never in the ways that we expect." She motioned to the next table. "Come."

Harry replaced the horn on the table. The scrimshaw ivory touched the hard surface with a crack and shattered into millions of microscopic particles. A fine dust now covered the table in a radial pattern from the point of contact. Harry's eyes flew open with astonishment. All three teens jumped back from the table.

"I...I just put it down," Harry stammered. "Honest."

Ravena eyed the remains of the heirloom with wonder. Her gaze flicked to Snape. His face wore a similar expression of awe. She backed away from the table and proceeded to the next.

The final table held only a large tank containing a severed, bloodless hand with blackened fingernails. The gruesome hand scuttled about the tank on its fingertips, quite alive. Ravena shuddered and backed away.

"What do you make of it?" she asked, casting Snape a quizzical stare.

"Experiments," Hermione remarked.

"Obviously," Snape replied, with a knowing glare. His finger pointed toward the tank. "And this one was successful."

"So where is the Phoenix?" Ravena glanced around the table. "He must have done experiments on that? Why isn't it here with the others?"

Her eyes scanned the room, looking for the gem. She retraced her steps. Just then, she caught sight of something glistening in a darkened corner. Her eyes narrowed, catching sight of a rat with a silvery paw. Pettigrew!

Quick as a flash, her nimble fingers loaded a bolt into the crossbow. She planted the stirrup between her feet and drew back the bow. Then she raised the site to her eye, took aim, and let the bolt fly. A high-pitched squeal came from the corner of the room. She had hit her quarry. Every eye turned to see a large rat with a bolt protruding from its leg. Before they could blink, a small wizard with watery eyes and a pointed nose materialized where the rat had been. He clutched his right thigh and moaned. A self-satisfied smirk crossed Ravena's lips.

"Well, if it isn't Creepy Peeping Peter?" she spat. She eyed the wizard with a look of utmost loathing.

"Pettigrew," Snape hissed. His right hand reached for his wand and pointed it at Pettigrew's chest.

"Let me finish him off," Ravena said. She placed a second bolt in the crossbow, drew the bow, and pointed the weapon at the small wizard.

"Noooo, pleeeease," Pettigrew begged, clasping his hands together. The beady eyes flitted from person to person. "I came to warn you. To warn Harry."

"Do you really expect me to believe that fable after you betrayed us all to your master?" Ravena laughed, keeping the weapon trained on him. "I'll wager that you were off to betray us all again."

"It was Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange." Pettigrew twitched with nervous terror. "They freed me from prison. I had to obey or they would do terrible things to me. T-t-terrible things."

"So you betrayed me and your old werewolf friend," Snape scorned, eyeing Pettigrew with cold contempt.

"R-Remus threatened to kill me," Pettigrew stammered, shaking.

"And you hid at Hogwarts all year, spying on me for Lucius," Ravena added. Her azure eyes locked on him with a penetrating glare. "Or was Harry your real target?"

"No!" Pettigrew shook his head. He cast Harry a beseeching stare. "You must believe me. You believe me, Harry, don't you?"

"If you're telling the truth," Harry replied, "then tell us where to find the Phoenix."

"Malfoy has it. He's -" Pettigrew's voice trailed off. His eyes flew open wide.

Ravena heard a panel creak behind her. She spun around to see a storm of Death Eaters emerging from secret passages and hidden panels all around the room. They were trapped!

Blinding flashes of red light erupted all around her. Cries of surprise and panic filled the chamber. She watched as her companions were thrown to the floor, wands wrenched from their grasps by a flurry of spells.

Ravena's fingers curled around the trigger of the crossbow. A bolt shot from the weapon, the dart piercing the shoulder of the nearest Death Eater. She dodged behind one of the tables and reloaded. Her eyes scanned the room, selecting her next target.

A flash of red light whizzed past her ear. She fired the bolt and ducked her head. Her ears heard a groan and a stream of curses. She smiled. Her shot had hit!

Another flash of light filled her field of vision, followed by the sound of shattering glass. Ron, who was crouched next to her, stared with a stunned expression on his freckled face. She set down the crossbow, grabbed for him, pulled him low, and shielded both their heads in her arms. Shards of glass flung throughout the room.

She cast a furtive glance toward the other table. Snape crouched there, sheltering Hermione and Harry against the onslaught. Their wands lay scattered on the floor, far from reach. Ravena released Ron, grasped the crossbow, and nodded to Snape.

Then her ears caught a strange patter, a tapping on the table above her. Her gaze flicked up to see the dismembered hand fall from the table. She flung her body out of its path, but it found Ron instead and attached itself to his face. Ron screamed with terror and flailed at the gruesome, murderous appendage in a vain attempt to dislodge it from his head. Ravena spun around, her eyes wide with terror.

"The knife," she yelled.

She reached to help him, when another hex came winging toward her exposed body. The impact sent her sprawling backward across the floor. The crossbow ripped from her grasp and skidded to rest at the foot of a Death Eater. Ravena groaned and sat up, brushing the hair from her eyes. Her gaze flicked to the circle of Death Eaters closing in on them all. A dozen wands were trained on their bodies.

Meanwhile, Ron had pulled the knife from his pocket. He stabbed at the disembodied hand with the light blade. The hand convulsed and loosened its hold. Ron pried the clawed fingers from his red hair, slammed the appendage to the floor, and jabbed the knife through the palm with all his might. The hand twitched with a final spasm and fell still. Ron shuddered and stared with wide-eyed horror at the spectacle, blood dripping from the scratches on his face.

"Welcome, my guests," drawled the voice of Lucius Malfoy. His merciless laugh rang throughout the chamber.

Ravena eyed her mother's cousin with hatred. His sharp features and cold gray eyes surveyed their predicament with obvious delight. He smiled at her, that disconcerting, wicked grin. Pettigrew trembled at his feet, clutching at his trouser with fawning servility. Ravena's hand crept toward the dagger hidden in her boot. With a deft flick of her wrist, she extracted the deadly blade and flung it straight at Malfoy's chest.

Malfoy was prepared. In an instant, he levitated the unfortunate Pettigrew into the path of the dagger. The blade imbedded in Pettigrew's skull, catching him right between the eyes. Ravena was astonished to see a second blade, this one protruding from Pettigrew's chest. Her gaze flicked to Harry, who had also hurled his knife at the Death Eater. She caught his look of dismay through the unkempt black fringe of his hair. She surmised that Malfoy had been his intended target as well.

Pettigrew gasped and sputtered for breath. Malfoy's hand grabbed for the knife in Pettigrew's chest, gave it a vicious twist, then thrust the body to the ground. His foot landed a callous kick against the soft flesh. Pettigrew moaned. His eyes rolled back into his head and he slumped to the floor, dead. Malfoy chortled.

"Thank you, Ravena, Potter," he drawled. His gray eyes glittered with malice. "You have once again provided me valuable service."

"You're not welcome," Ravena snapped.

"That should have been you," Harry yelled, his green eyes flashing behind the round glasses.

"Yes, but I am very much alive," Malfoy said. "I could not allow this worthless lump to take my place of honor in the Dark Lord's inner circle." He prodded the dead corpse with the toe of his polished black boot. "Now, I have regained my rightful place at the Dark Lord's right hand."

Ravena tossed her proud head and shot him a defiant glare. Malfoy eyed her with amusement.

"Clever Ravena," he whispered. "You and your little entourage have wandered far from your dungeon quarters. What could you possibly want here in my laboratory?"

His hand reached into the pocket of his waistcoat and extracted a large diamond. The dazzling gem sparkled in the torchlight, sending rainbows of refracted light dancing off the walls. A gasp escaped from Hermione's lips. Ravena caught sight of the wide-eyed looks on the faces of the students. Even Snape's controlled features melted in wonder at the sight.

"Looking for this?" Malfoy's mocking laughter echoed in the chamber, joined by the cackles of the other Death Eaters. He tucked the jewel back into his waistcoat pocket. "Take them away," he drawled, cold and unfeeling.

* * * * * * * *

Back at Hogwarts, Angela tucked the blankets around Remus' body in the bedroom of their temporary quarters on the second floor. Her gaze lingered on his face, lined and pale. The fever and cold sweats had passed. He lay in serene sleep on the linen sheets. Her fingers swept his brow, brushing aside those stray strands of light brown streaked with gray. She watched the steady rhythm of his breathing, deep and peaceful once again.

Her gaze drifted to the nightstand cluttered with potion bottles, the titles visible in the flickering candlelight: Enid's Analgesic Elixir and Fever Reducer, Platelets Original Blood Replenishing Serum, Rest-ease Calming Draught, and several others. An empty goblet stood beside them.

Angela recalled Madam Pomfrey fussing over her husband just a short while ago. She could hear the Healer muttering under her breath about having to treat Remus in a former second-floor classroom, instead of down in the infirmary where all her medicines were at hand. But these were Dumbledore's orders. He always had his reasons for changing the rules, even if those reasons weren't apparent.

Angela, however, was glad to have her husband back at her side. Her fingers stroked the growth of graying beard on his cheek with a gentle touch. She placed a tender kiss on his brow.

The coo of an infant sounded from the cradle nearby. Angela's gaze flicked from her husband's face to see the cradle rock. Inside, two tiny babies kicked and squirmed. Faces screwed up in pouts of protest. The coo quickly changed to a plaintive cry.

"Hush now," Angela soothed. "Daddy's sleeping. We mustn't wake him."

Her fingers flew to pull a dressing gown over her nightclothes. Then she scooped the babies into her arms and carried them out into the parlor where their crying would not disturb Remus' slumber. She settled herself into one of the overstuffed chairs, arranged the cushions around her lap, and snuggled her children to her. She waved her wand and two bottles of warm formula appeared.

This day had been long and the evening even longer. Exhaustion overtook Angela. Her head nodded to her chest. She dozed in and out of sleep, while the infants in her arms sucked from bottles suspended by magic within reach. Voices drifted into her consciousness from somewhere nearby.

"How are we going to get there?" whispered a deep voice. "You aren't allowed to Apparate and I'm not that good on a broom stick."

"What about the Galloping Gawksap?" An ethereal voice suggested. "They travel long distances with lightning speed. I hear Hagrid keeps one behind his hut."

"I know where Harry keeps his motorcycle," a second young woman's voice replied. "I can drive it. Harry let me loads of times over the summer. There's room for all of us on the seat."

Angela woke with a start. The voices were not a dream, but real people in the corridor just outside her quarters. And they were talking about Harry!

She waved her wand and the bottles vanished. Her hands arranged her children safely upon the cushions of the chair, swaddling them securely in a blanket. She tied her dressing gown closed and crept to the door. Her hand gripped the handle and turned it. She peered into the hallway. A red-haired young woman with a freckled face and a young man with short brown hair, a round face, and the fine traces of a mustache jumped with surprise. Another girl with long blonde hair and a wand tucked behind her ear just stared at Angela with a dreamy expression on her face.

"Mrs. Lupin!" the red-head exclaimed, her eyes wide with astonishment.

"Ginny and Neville and--" Angela whispered.

"Luna Lovegood," the blonde said, holding out her hand to Angela, as if they were meeting on the street, instead of in a darkened corridor of the school in the dead of night.

"Pleased to meet you," Angela replied, a bit flustered. "What are you doing out of bounds at this time of night?" Her hand beckoned to them. "You'd better come inside quickly before you're spotted."

Angela's eyes scanned the darkened hallway. Then she ushered them inside. Although the hour was very late, all three students were dressed in street clothes and Neville clutched a bow and a quiver of arrows in his fist. Angela motioned for them to sit down.

"So would you please tell me what is going on?" Angela eyed them with a puzzled look. "What's this about Harry?"

"Harry, Ron, and Hermione were sneaking out of Gryffindor Tower," Neville explained, sinking into the nearest chair. "They were going to get in trouble again." He cast her a sheepish grin. "But they got away before I could catch them."

"I heard a noise down in the Gryffindor common room," Ginny added with a nod of her red head. "And found Neville there. When he explained what happened, we went to get help and ran into Luna."

The door to the Lupin's bedroom creaked open. All four heads whipped around to see Remus standing in the doorway, clutching the door lintel with a shaking grasp. His blue-gray eyes were wide. His brow creased with worry.

"Where has Harry gone?" he gasped.

His body pitched forward. He staggered into the room. Angela jumped up with alarm, sprinted to his side, and grabbed his arm to steady him.

"What are you doing out of bed?" she chided, helping him onto the sofa.

Angela sat down next to him, eyeing him with concern. Her hands fiddled with the cushions, arranging them around his body. Before he could answer, Angela's two brothers, wearing pajamas and sleepy looks, burst from a second bedroom.

"What the bloody hell is going on out here?" Paul barked, swiping a large hand across his forehead.

Paul and Francis stared from person to person. The startled looks on their faces betrayed their surprise at finding so many people in their parlor at this time of night.

"It's Harry," Remus said in a hoarse whisper.

"He had some sort of fit," Neville volunteered. "Like a nightmare."

"What sort of nightmare?" Francis asked, wiping the vestiges of sleep from his sea-green eyes.

"He muttered something about Professor Hawkins and Mr. Malfoy," Neville said. "Then he and Ron got dressed and ran from our room." Neville's hand plucked at the string of the bow. Then he stared at them with a look of determination on his face. "I followed them and heard them talking to a house-elf in our common room. They were talking about Malfoy Manor. I mean, something like this happened before and it was a trick, right? I wanted to stop them to warn them." He looked down at his shoes. His face flushed with embarrassment. "But my robe got tangled on something. That's when I tripped and they got away."

"They've gone to rescue Ravena." Angela's face blanched. Her eyes widened. "It's all my fault. I went down to talk with Severus. I told him that Malfoy had threatened me and mentioned Ravena."

Remus turned to stare at Angela, anxiety in his blue-gray eyes. "Malfoy threatened you?"

"Yes, and you." Angela nodded. "But that's another story."

"Angie, we told you that our cousin is a double-crossing traitor," Francis interrupted with a reproachful glare. "Why can't you just accept that?"

"She wouldn't do that willingly." Angela insisted. Her green eyes flashed. "Ravena was in danger and you two wouldn't help, so I spoke with Severus." She dropped her gaze. Her face reddened with shame. "Harry and his friends overheard my conversation."

"Professor Hawkins wouldn't betray anyone!" Neville shouted, rising to his feet.

The young man drew himself up to his full height. Even so, he was no match for Angela's huge brothers. But that fact didn't seem to bother Neville. His eyes shot daggers at the two grown men. His fist clutched his wand as if answering a challenge. Paul rolled his eyes.

"Oh great, my naïve sister and a love-struck school boy!" Paul blustered, slamming his fist on the carved mantelpiece. "Remus, talk some sense into your wife."

"Leave them both alone." Remus' eyes took on a steely glint.

Paul stared back, dumbstruck at the rebuke. His mouth hung agape.

"Don't tell me you believe her too?" Francis asked with an incredulous stare.

"I'd be the last one to condemn my wife for her faith in people," Remus said. He squeezed Angela's hand. "I have been on the receiving end of that trust. She believes in me in a way that few others would." Remus turned to Neville. "Why didn't you go to Headmaster Dumbledore with this information?"

"We tried," Ginny interrupted, "but Professor Dumbledore's gone."

"All the portraits are talking," Luna added. She gestured to a framed portrait of a gentleman in a riding habit that hung just over the mantelpiece. "Just ask him."

"Quite true," the hunter in the portrait replied, tipping his top hat with his riding crop. "Ministry officials arrived a short time ago to remove the Headmaster from the school for harboring the likes of you. But Dumbledore, the old fox, made quite the impressive escape." The man winked and petted his hound. Then he gestured grandly with the riding crop. "Great clouds of smoke. Explosions everywhere. Overcame six Aurors and the Minister himself and vanished into thin air."

"Eh?" Paul gaped at the portrait with wonder.

Francis' face wore an identical look of shock. Remus' brow furrowed. He appeared deep in thought. Angela just gripped his hand. What else could possibly go wrong this night?

"Just so," the hunter confirmed with a nod of his head. "McGonagall is being held under guard in the Headmaster's Office for abetting the escape. Four Aurors are scouring the castle now." He tapped his nose. "Trying to sniff you out. But they won't find the entrance to this room. It's been enchanted."

"What? Looking for us?" Angela stared at her husband in disbelief. "But you've been cleared of all those charges."

"You heard Cornwall's threat," Remus replied. "He wasn't happy with the verdict. And he doesn't strike me as the sort that likes to be crossed." He turned to Paul and Francis. "We need to summon the Order of the Phoenix. Is anyone on duty at headquarters tonight?"

"The Weasley twins, Fred and George," Francis answered.

"Good." Remus nodded to Francis. "Sound the alarm. Tell them to gather everyone available and get over to Malfoy Manor." He faced Paul. "Kindly escort Ginny, Neville, and Luna back to their common rooms, then go with your brother."

Francis nodded and disappeared back into his bedroom. Paul stifled a yawn and motioned for the teens to follow him.

"Come on, now." Paul jerked his head toward the door.

Ginny and Neville exchanged looks. All three students got up and exited after Paul. Angela stared at Remus' face. The lines on his forehead grew deeper. A troubled look hung in his eyes.

"This is all my fault." Angela cast him an apologetic glance.

"No, it isn't." Remus gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "You didn't know. But something doesn't add up here."

Remus' brow crumpled. He ran his fingers through his sandy hair. He stared into the cold embers of the fireplace, lost in thought. Angela watched him in the dim light of the room.

"The vision, of course." Remus' eyes popped open wide. "Voldemort wanted Harry to come. He needs Harry for his plan. It's happening tonight. Voldemort is coming back tonight!" Remus struggled to his feet.

"No, you're too ill." Angela scrambled after him and clutched Remus' arm. She pulled him back down to the sofa and into her embrace. "You must let the others handle this."

Paul burst back into the room, panting and clutching a squawking rubber chicken in his fist. The animated fowl flapped its plucked wings and pecked with fury at Paul's hand. Paul slammed the door behind him. His fingers wrung the neck of the chicken to stifle its clucking. Then he threw the joke shop prop to the floor with an exasperated hiss.

"They gave me the slip," Paul barked. "Ginny hexed me just around the first corner, then the three of them ran off. This blasted rubber chicken tried to rip off my nose." He stomped a bare foot on the fowl and glared at his sister. "Then some big Auror spotted me and gave chase." He nodded toward the door. "They're headed this way."

Shouts and sounds of pounding footsteps echoed in the hallways outside the room. Angela clung to Remus, fear evident in her green eyes. Little Sirius uttered a bleating cry. Angela gasped, ran to her child, and clasped him to her breast. She rocked him, muttering hushing sounds under her breath in desperation.

"Bring him here," Remus whispered.

She handed him the fussing infant, then snatched little James into her arms. Remus drew Sirius to his shoulder and tucked the downy head against his neck. His hand rubbed the infant's back in a circular motion.

"Hush little pup," he soothed, calming the child.

The voices in the hallway grew louder. Angela's heart pounded in her chest. She clutched her child closer. She held her breath, not daring to utter a sound. Please let them pass by.

The commotion in the corridor died away, the voices fading down the hall. The Aurors had run right past their hiding place. Air rushed from Angela's lungs in a gush of relief. Her body sank onto the couch next to her husband. She leaned her head against his shoulder, waiting for her pounding heartbeat to return to normal.

"We're wasting time," Remus said, his voice growing hoarse and weak again. "We have to go after Harry. There's no time to lose."

"We?" Angela rejoined, staring at Remus with a determined look. "The only place that you're going is back to bed." She scooped both of her children into her arms. Her head nodded to Paul. "Help me get him back to the bedroom."

Angela carried the infants to her room and tucked them back into their cradle. Her brother placed Remus' arm over his shoulder, lifted him to his feet, and steered him to the bedroom. Angela helped him ease her husband onto the linen sheets. All the while, Remus continued giving instructions to her brother, his voice fading to a whisper before failing altogether. Angela's fingers touched his lips to silence him. She whispered a hushing sound and arranged the covers back around her husband.

"Thank you," she whispered to Paul. "You'd better go now." She eyed her brother's pajamas. "And you might want to put on some clothes."