Three Animagi and a Werewolf

Prequel, Part 17: The Final Year at Hogwarts

A Year of Terror

Bernard Barnaby's death was not the last. One by one, all the people who dared to openly oppose Lord Voldemort or appeal to the magical population to stand and fight suffered a similar fate. No one ever trusted anyone else any more, as reports of betrayal became increasingly frequent and word got out that seemingly harmless people were perpetrating atrocities no one would ever have thought them capable of.

Few people realised that many of those crimes were committed unwittingly by their perpetrators. However, sitting in his office behind the entrance guarded by the stone gargoyle at Hogwarts castle, Professor Albus Dumbledore had begun writing a list of those he suspected to have fallen under the Imperius curse - people he knew would never have hurt anyone if they had been in control of their own actions.

Yet despite the terror that ruled the outside world, life at Hogwarts remained relatively untouched by the menace. While reports of rampaging giants, Dementors and even vampires piled up on the desk of Bartemius Crouch, the new head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement at the Ministry of Magic, the school remained a haven of safety, for Voldemort's minions seemed purposely to avoid any place that had Albus Dumbledore in it.

That year was therefore a strenuous but happy one for the four marauders, and at the end of it they travelled home with hearts lightened by the joy of having won the house cup for the third year in a row, and the pleasurable memory of Severus Snape's expression when James had snatched the Quaffle from under his nose and scored his fifth goal at the Quidditch final burned brightly into their memories. But returning to the 'real' world soon reminded them that things were not going as well for their side as it might seem at Hogwarts.

Peter Pettigrew came home to find his mother in a state of almost constant paranoia, suspecting everyone from the milkman down to the lady who came to clean for them once a week of being a Dark agent. His father kept away from their home most of the time and worked late, presumably to prevent his wife from insisting he do something heroic ... like casting a total body bind curse on the chimney sweep! Even Philippa was different these days, far more serious and always heavy-eyed, but also kinder than ever, determinedly displaying her feelings for the people who came into contact with her plainly for all to see, as though preparing herself, just in case something happened that would make it impossible for her to show them how much she cared.

Remus, too, found his home in a state of tension. His mother had grown jumpy and anxious. While as solid a rock to cling to as ever when it came to personal problems and worries, the fear of something seriously bad happening to those she loved terrified her. She insisted on locking and barring all the windows and doors both at night and during the daytime, and she always made John read out the news from the Daily Prophet at breakfast, even though it often made her cry. As the summer progressed, Remus noticed how she seemed to grow more and more anxious.

Faith herself was not unaware of this, and she tried as best she could to fight the sense of doom that was threatening to overwhelm her, but it was no use. She searched for the reasons behind her heightened fear, and decided that it was largely down to the change she had noticed in her brother. Though she had been afraid before, though she had long known there were dangers in the world, so far Malcolm had always been the one to remind her that no threat was ever-present, that fun and good humour would prevail in the end. But Malcolm was not like that any more. For one thing, his visits to his sister and brother-in-law had become most infrequent as reports of deaths and torturing increased, and he too seemed tense and far less apt to joke.

Faith also began to wonder at her husband's frequent absence from home on what he called 'important business'. John, for his part, was still determined to keep the truth from his wife as long as he possibly could. She worried enough as it was. If she found out that he and Malcolm spent many a night hunting down wizards who had sworn themselves to the service of the Dark side, that they conferred with Dumbledore on the possible location of Lord Voldemort himself and ways in which he might be destroyed if found, he knew that she would panic and probably sleep even less at night than she did anyway.

James and Sirius both noticed that a change had come over Bridget too. She was subdued and withdrawn, and she hardly ever seemed to smile these days. Unbeknownst to either of them, Bridget had attended every meeting of the Order of the Phoenix since her talk with her father. They had decided to put aside their differences and start afresh, and both were forced to admit that the trials before them were easier to bear with the mutual support they gave each other. While James continued to attend all Professor Darkhardt's lessons with regular enthusiasm, Bridget had persuaded everyone who knew the truth to keep an eye out for her son, but not let him know that he himself was an heir of Gryffindor and that, if Voldemort found out he existed, his life would not be worth a single bronze knut.

Professor Dumbledore and John, Malcolm and Gordon had all tried to persuade Bridget that not knowing the truth might do James more harm than good in the long run, but she remained adamant. And so, while she and her father became closer at last, Gordon was still denied any contact to his grandson, though his desire to accept the boy into his heart and home grew daily, as much through Bridget's doting descriptions of the boy as through the presence of Bridget herself.

The Last Journey to Hogwarts

The depressing mood in the magical word made the holidays seem to stretch endlessly, but finally they neared the end, and then it was September 1^st of their last year at school. For the last time in his student life, Remus stood on platform 9 ¾ with his mother beside him, knowing that this parting from her would be the hardest since the very first day he had travelled to Hogwarts. He looked at his mother, and Faith drew her son towards her and embraced him, clinging to him tightly.

"I'll miss you," she whispered tearfully in his ear. "But I've never been so grateful you're going back to Hogwarts. Things aren't safe out here. Sometimes I doubt they'll ever be safe again."

"They will, Mum," Remus reassured her, more positively than he felt. "Don't you worry. One way or another, some day, somehow - we'll win."

Faith stood back and looked up into his serious young face.

"You've grown up such a lot," she said with a sad smile. "Another year and I'll hardly recognise you as the little boy I put on that train seven years ago."

"I'm not going to change, Mum," Remus said. "In some ways I'll always be that boy."

"I hope so," his mother said.

Remus looked away awkwardly. He had longed for the day when he could go back to Hogwarts with his friends, yet now he felt so damnably reluctant to go, to leave his mother standing here, looking so vulnerable and frightened.

If only his father had had time to come. But John was off on another dangerous venture with Malcolm, one that would probably make his mother faint if she ever heard about it. For a moment, Remus seriously considered not getting on the train. Oh, he wanted to go back to Hogwarts, but to leave his mother at a time like this ... then he suddenly spotted Heather, standing further along the train, and caught her eye.

He was struck by how much she seemed to have grown over the summer. Though three years younger than him, today she looked much nearer his age, a slender and pretty girl of fourteen. She alone among all the dismal-faced people standing on the platform today seemed to radiate a soft, soothing light, her clear blue eyes calling to him from so many paces away.

Heather's cheeks turned a charming pink when she saw him, and she smiled at Remus, a shy and anxious smile that told him she, too, had been greatly upset by the news over the summer. Somehow his mind was suddenly made up. Of course he would go to Hogwarts, this year like any other year. He watched as Heather got on the train with her friends. Remus turned back to find his mother watching him.

"Yes, you've grown up a lot," she said softly.

Remus was about to reply but at that moment, Bridget arrived with Sirius and James. Faith brightened up a little. She and Bridget had become great friends, and it made such a change to meet someone one didn't have to be wary of these days.

"Here, Remus," Sirius said eagerly, "did James tell you in that letter the other week that he's been made Head Boy?"

"Head Boy?!" Remus exclaimed. "No, he didn't."

"I thought one of you pulling my leg was bad enough," James explained.

"But that's great!" Remus cried, shaking James's hand with the same enthusiasm with which James, two years ago, had congratulated Remus on being appointed prefect. "Well done!"

"Thanks."

James looked around and spotted Lily Evans coming through the barrier with her parents and her sister. James waved, and Sirius looked across too.

"Wait!" he cried. "Is that a Head Girl badge Lily's wearing?"

James nodded, and Sirius laughed. "The Potter-Evans dream team! Hi Lily," he added as the girl hurried over towards them.

"Hello, Sirius. Remus, Mrs. Lupin ... Mrs. Potter," she said shyly.

Bridget smiled, practically for the first time in ages.

"Hello," she said. "You must be Lily. Sirius has been teasing James about you all summer."

Lily reddened. "James," she said. "I wondered if ... well, wouldn't you like to come over and meet my parents?"

"Oh ... err ... now? I suppose ... yes, why not?"

She seized him by the hand, beaming, and marched him off. Sirius and Remus began heaving the trunks on the train.

"Mum, Dad, Petunia - this is James," Lily announced with more than a hint of pride.

James shook hands with her family rather nervously. Lily's father was a thickset man with a round, friendly face and a curly mop of brown hair. Her mother was tall and thin, with a chiselled, handsome face, short red hair and green eyes, though not quite as bright as Lily's.

"Pleased to meet you, son," Mr. Evans said loudly.

James was conscious of many people glancing their way. Being a Muggle, Mr. Evans knew nothing of Lord Voldemort, therefore he was equally unaware that it was considered inappropriate to be overly cheerful in public at the present time.

"Thank you, sir," James answered in a subdued tone.

"Lily's told us such a lot about you," Lily's mother added.

"Oh," James murmured. "I'm sure I'm not quite as bad as she makes out."

Mr. Evans gave a hearty laugh.

"This lad has a sense of humour," he said. "I like that. You ought to get him to meet up with your Vernon, Petunia. Maybe he could learn some too."

James turned his attention to Lily's scowling elder sister. She was a skinny, bony girl who obviously hated being there, and all through their talk she had been letting her eyes dart back and forwards between her sister and James. He noticed that there was a deep resentment in her every feature when she looked at Lily. What the expression on her face signified when she looked at him, however, James could not tell. It was closed, unreadable - but penetrating.

"Well, it's been nice meeting you," James said politely, "but now we really must get on the train."

"Of course."

Mr. Evans leaned forward to pick up Lily's trunk, but James was quicker. Lily's parents smiled and wished them both a good year, then stood and watched as they got on the train.

"Give me a hand with this, will you?" Remus asked.

Sirius came across and helped him lift James's trunk onto the rack in the empty compartment they had found, then looked out of the window.

"Ha, James is being introduced to the in-laws," he announced. "Dear, dear, poor old Prongs, you'll never escape her now. That girl's got her hooks into you good and proper."

"Sirius, come on, give him a break," Remus murmured.

Sirius shrugged and peered out at the people on the platform. He waved to Gemma Crowe and Florence Fortescue, from Gryffindor and Hufflepuff respectively. Both girls giggled and waved back. Sirius's eyes scanned the platform and spotted more people coming through the barrier.

"There's Wormtail," he said. "And Pippa. Gosh, she looks exhausted. Come and look, Moony."

Remus came over to the window, but was only just in time to catch a glimpse of Pippa's blue robes as she disappeared through the barrier again. Peter Pettigrew walked over to Bridget and Faith alone, spoke to them nervously for a moment, then dragged his trunk up onto the train.

"I'll go and give him a hand," Sirius said, stepping out onto the corridor.

The Last Year Begins

Their last welcome feast in the Great Hall was as delicious as ever, and the solid walls of Hogwarts all around them, the twinkling stars on the enchanted ceiling above and the warming presence of Albus Dumbledore sitting up at the staff table, wearing robes of deep mauve with yellow moons on and a matching pointed wizard's hat took away some of the fear that had crept into the students' hearts over the summer. He had given them his usual welcoming speech, reminding them like every year of Mr. Filch's ever-growing list of actions not to be performed by students (this year including smiling in public view, it seemed), and adding a strict reminder that on no accounts must the Whomping Willow that stood in the grounds be approached. This last was greeted by a loud "Hear, hear!" from Davey Gudgeon, who had tried to touch the trunk of the ferocious tree last summer and still bore a nasty scar over his right eye where the Willow's branch had slapped him.

Soon the students were chatting away as if nothing had happened, as if there had been no murders, no torturings, no Death Eaters. Only a few remained serious-faced and quiet, mainly those whose own families had already been touched by the growing darkness.

Over at the Hufflepuff table, Florence Fortescue was deep in conversation with fifteen-year-old Stephen Ross, the younger brother of former Ravenclaw keeper Martin Ross, who had finished school two years ago and was now training to be an Auror. The girl ran her fingers through her bobbed brown hair and leaned in closer. She had more or less got over her grief at the killing of her grandfather, Florander Fortescue, in Diagon Alley, but that event had strengthened her resolve to do all she could for 'Darkhardt's Defenders', and she was now obviously busy recruiting Stephen to their cause.

At the Ravenclaw table, Daniel Moore was telling Aurora Borealis about a new book he had been given for his birthday, which dealt with all kinds of curses and counter-curses that he hoped Professor Darkhardt would help them learn, so that they could defend themselves if ever they should have to.

After the meal, Sirius, James, Peter and Remus had risen and begun to make their way to the doors when Sirius was accosted by Patrick Pringle, a fair-haired second-year Hufflepuff.

"I say, Black! Black, can I talk to you for a sec?" the boy asked eagerly.

Sirius sighed. He remembered Pringle back at the orphanage. He had always been a pest, tagging along wherever Sirius went after that one time when Sirius had owned up that it was he, not Pringle, who had released the dungbomb. Sirius had always been - and still was - Pringle's biggest hero, but he often found it a nuisance these days, because Pringle tended to announce proudly to all the world that he had known Sirius practically all his life, and used him as a threat whenever one of the older boys - especially Slytherins - tried to bully him.

"What's up, Pringle?" Sirius asked impatiently while the others moved on without him.

The younger boy leaned closer and lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper.

"I've been talking to Millie Mynx, and she was telling me that she's going to join old Scarface's secret society this year."

Sirius glanced across at Professor Darkhardt, emptying his goblet of wine at the staff table, and smiled to himself. If the old wizard knew what some students had begun calling him these days ...

"Anyway," Pringle went on breathlessly, "I've been thinking. You get on pretty well with Scarface, don't you, Black? And I thought, well, you could talk to him, tell him I want to join too, and that I'm really keen to learn all those extra spells and whatnot."

"It's no good, I'm afraid, Pringle," Sirius said with a mock sigh. "Old Scarface, as you call him, won't have any little kids in the Defenders."

"I'm not a little kid," said Pringle indignantly.

Sirius drew himself up and looked down at Pringle, who barely reached up to his shoulders.

"Maybe you should try magicking your legs a bit longer to make you taller, then Darkhardt might not notice you're only in second year."

Pringle looked crestfallen and turned away. Sirius heard a bright laugh behind him and turned to see Mary Crimple standing there, watching with a twinkle in her eyes.

"They're so funny, aren't they? The little ones, I mean. Want to be so grown up."

"Yeah, well, Pringle's always wanted to do anything I was doing. We were at the orphanage together and I suppose I looked after him once too often. Should have let old Dolesham punish him for setting off that dungbomb and not owned up it was me."

"Dolesham?"

"She sort of looks after the kids there. She's a strict old bat on the outside, but she's all right really." He grinned. "Bit like McGonagall."

"I see," Mary said. "So that was your mistake. The kid's hero-worshipped you ever since, has he?" she enquired.

"Yup."

Mary giggled again.

"Sirius?"

Sirius turned and saw Aurora coming towards them, her face set in a scowl. Mary bit her lip, excused herself and disappeared.

"Hello, Rory," Sirius said lightly.

She looked him up and down and walked around him.

"Well," she said at last. "You look healthy enough to me. How do you feel?"

"Fine," said Sirius, puzzled.

"Good. I'm glad. I was worried you might have hurt your hands or something. No?"

Sirius held them up. "Nope."

"Ah. Because I had thought, you see, that if there was something wrong with your hands, you could have got James to write me a note."

Sirius looked a question.

"A note, Sirius! You usually write it out on a bit of parchment, using a quill and ink. It's a kind of short letter, you know. A message. Just a few words to let someone else know how you're doing, that you're still in one piece ..."

"Ahh," said Sirius, finally understanding what she was getting at. "The letters, yes ..."

"You said you'd write."

"Erm ..."

"You promised!"

Sirius looked shamefaced. "What if I said I did write, but the letters got lost in the post?"

Aurora crossed her arms and shook her head. Sirius looked around helplessly for a moment. He tried an apologetic smile that came out as a sickly smirk.

"Err - I'm sorry," he murmured.

Aurora tapped her foot.

Sirius watched her, and suddenly grinned. "You're cute when you're angry."

Aurora shifted impatiently and crossed her arms more tightly. Sirius's grin broadened. Aurora avoided his now-sparkling eyes. He grasped her by both arms and planted a kiss on her lips.

"Sirius!" she said, sounding shocked and pushing him back.

She looked around. The Hall was still full of people, and many were now staring at the pair of them as they walked by on the way to their dormitories. Sirius just laughed, took her in his arms again and kissed her once more, this time longer. Several of the people around them had stopped what they were doing to stand and stare unashamedly. Against her will, Aurora relaxed in his arms. When Sirius finally stood back, it took her a long moment to regain her bearings.

"You're a scoundrel!" Aurora complained, frustrated with herself for not being able to resist him.

"And you're adorable!" he called over his shoulder as he turned to leave the Hall. "See you later, gorgeous!"

The other students turned away, giggling. Aurora sighed in exasperation.

"Our last year at Hogwarts," Peter Pettigrew moaned, dropping onto his bed in their dormitory. "I can hardly believe it. This time next year, a lot of other students will be sitting down at those tables in the Great Hall, but we won't be here. We'll be out in the real world, earning our living - if we live long enough to learn a profession."

"Oh, don't be so depressing, Wormtail," James sighed, lying back on his own bed and crossing his arms behind his head. "There's loads of time yet. A year for us to enjoy tormenting Filch as he's never been tormented before, finally giving Mrs. Norris the good kick she deserves, teaching Snape a lesson or two ..."

Remus frowned playfully.

"Professor McGonagall wouldn't be happy if she heard the new Head Boy talking like that."

James grinned.

"No, I don't suppose she would," he said lazily, turning onto his stomach to watch Remus unpack. "So, how have things been round your place this year?"

A crease deepened between Remus's eyes.

"Not too good. Mum's frankly terrified of the Death Eaters. If she knew what Dad and Uncle Malcolm are up to ..."

James gave an understanding nod. "How about you, Peter?"

"About the same."

"Hm. Did any of you read the rumour in The Quibbler last week?"

Peter shook his head, but Remus paused halfway through taking a brown sweater out of his trunk and sat on the end of James's bed.

"About the Dementors, you mean?" he guessed. "Yes, I read that. So did Mum. Dad told her it was probably just a load of nonsense - The Quibbler's always printing stories that are too far-fetched to be true, but in this case ..."

"What did your dad think?" James asked.

"He was worried," said Remus, exchanging a glance with his friend.

That seemed to settle it for both of them, but Peter was still looking blank.

"What did The Quibbler say?"

Remus fiddled in his pocket and pulled out the gold locket his parents had given him. He opened it and suddenly became very preoccupied with looking at their pictures. James sighed and turned to Peter.

"It said that not all of the Dementors are acting as the Ministry expects them to. Some are supposed to have left Azkaban."

"Why would they do that? I thought they sort of fed on the souls of the people that live there. Why would they leave a regular supply of - food?"

"The Dementors of Azkaban are only there to guard the prisoners. All right, they do feed on the poor souls' emotions to a certain extent, but the Ministry won't let them get in really close, or perform the Kiss or anything."

"The - what?"

"The Kiss - weren't you paying attention when Darkhardt was telling us about it?"

"It's when they suck your soul out through your mouth, leaving you behind as an empty shell with no spirit at all," Remus explained, slipping the locket back into his pocket.

"Oh," said Peter quietly. "Right."

"It's what they long to do, really. They'd just love it if they could devour the souls of all those prisoners. But of course they're not allowed to. Now Voldemort ..." - James ignored Peter's flinch at the mention of the name - "will offer them just that. A nearly endless supply of souls to suck. Mostly muggle-born souls, naturally, but the Dementors aren't fussy."

"And now some of these Dementors are out of Ministry control?" Peter asked anxiously.

"So The Quibbler is saying. They're claiming some of the Azkaban guards have 'gone missing'. And if Remus's dad is worried by that report, then I'm guessing it might be true."

"And you were telling me not to be depressing," Peter murmured miserably.

James gave a small, mirthless laugh. Remus went back to his unpacking.

Mirrors and Mudscuttlers

The first two months back at Hogwarts flew by, and soon James was back to practising Quidditch once a week. Not only that, but he had been made captain of the Quidditch team last year, which meant he spent a lot of his spare time devising new tactics or spying on the other teams to check out their strengths and weaknesses.

The day before Halloween was a rainy Sunday afternoon and James returned from the Quidditch pitch, soaked to the skin and freezing cold. He had a wash and dried himself, then went to join the others in front of the common room fire. Sirius was poring over a catalogue full of glossy pictures of motorbikes, while Remus sat trying to help Peter with his Herbology homework.

"Hello, Prongs," said Sirius when James joined them. "Worked out how you're going to beat Slytherin in the first match of the season yet?"

"I don't know that we will," James said moodily, dropping into a chair. "They've put together a strong side. Hackleby's a good keeper, and then there's their new seeker, too. Dalia Prune. She's only in second year, but she's fast - faster than Donald, anyway."

"Oh come on, brighten up," Sirius said. "At least you know they've got a set of lousy chasers. I mean to say, Severus Snape! He's hopeless."

"Actually, no," said James. "He's been getting pretty good lately. Saw him practising last Saturday. Anyway, let's talk about something else. It's our last year at Hogwarts, we've got some serious disrupting to do before we leave."

"Oh yes," Sirius agreed, closing the catalogue. "We have to leave an impression behind."

"I should think you two have already left an impression to last a lifetime," Remus chuckled.

"What do you mean, us two?" Sirius demanded. "It was you who nearly blasted a hole in the wall next to that suit of armour on the fourth floor last November, unless I'm much mistaken."

"Only so that Filch would come to investigate what the noise was all about and not catch you two planting exploding chalk in McGonagall's classroom," Remus reminded him.

Sirius laughed. "Yes, it was lucky for us you were watching the Marauder's Map that day, I must say."

"So what are we going to let Moony blow up this year?" James asked eagerly.

Remus raised an eyebrow. "Nothing, I hope. I'm not really all that keen on loud bangs."

But he couldn't fool his friends. They spotted the amused tug at the corner of his mouth at once, and James clapped him on the back.

"Righto, Remus," he said. "Whatever we do, we'll do it quietly. Very quietly," he added with a twinkle in his eye.

"What are you getting at?" Sirius asked, intrigued.

James looked around the empty common room as though to make sure they could not be overheard, and leaned forward conspiratorially.

"I bumped into Hagrid on my way back from Quidditch earlier. It was obvious from the way he was trying to act all nonchalantly - you know, giving me a hearty loud greeting and all that - that he was up to something he shouldn't be."

"Oooh," said Peter, also leaning in closer. "What's that?"

"Well, he made a big show of not telling me at first. But of course, he was itching to let it out. Didn't take me long to persuade him. It seems he's gone and got himself a half-dozen new pets. Illegal, of course, though actually quite harmless by his standards. They don't bite, as far as I know. They don't explode, so no bangs, Remus ..."

"What are they?" Remus asked.

"Mudscuttlers," James announced triumphantly.

"What are they?" asked Peter and Sirius in chorus.

Remus pushed his fringe out of his face.

"Invisible creatures that you can usually only track down by following the black footprints they leave behind," he explained. "My dad had some trouble at the Ministry a while back. Someone had brought a Mudscuttler to work and it kept leaving filthy pawprints all over the documents. No one knows what these creatures look like - obviously, since they're invisible. I think the Ministry suspects they're something like moles, because they also have a habit of digging tunnels wherever the ground is soft enough. And for them, 'soft' is anything that's not solid rock, I think."

He looked a trifle concerned, but Sirius's eyes had begun to glow.

"Great!" he said. "Imagine the fun Filch would have with one of those!"

"He would," Remus said. "But since the only ones around here are Hagrid's, and he's not likely to be stupid enough to bring them into the castle ..."

He shrugged, but James and Sirius were already grinning at one another.

"No," said James. "But we will."

"But - won't Hagrid get suspicious when he sees there's one missing?" Peter put in.

"Oh, Wormtail!" Sirius cried, exasperated. "How dense are you? He won't see, will he? They're invisible. Hagrid's not going to notice if there's one missing. And just one let loose in Filch's office could work wonders."

"Tell you what, why don't we go down and nick one tonight?" James suggested. "Remus and Peter can stand on guard ..."

"Wait, you don't mean you want me to create another diversion again if Filch is coming your way?"

"Of course," Sirius said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You wouldn't want Filch to hang us up by our thumbs, would you?"

Remus sighed. "Knowing my luck, I'll be the one hanging by my thumbs."

"Don't worry," James said, getting up to rummage in his trunk. "You may not have to cause a diversion at all." He took something wrapped in cloth out of his trunk and handed it to Remus. "Here, Sirius and I made this during the holidays. Get yours out, Padfoot."

Sirius looked a touch reluctant, but he bent down and fumbled for a similarly wrapped parcel among his own luggage. Remus, meanwhile, was unwrapping the one in his hand. It was a mirror. He stared at it with a puzzled expression.

"You can use that to warn us if you see Filch coming our way on the map."

"Err - how?" Remus asked doubtfully.

"Just look into it and say our names," James explained. "Go on, try it."

While Sirius unwrapped an identical mirror and sat holding it, Remus held his up to his face, looked into it and, feeling slightly stupid, said,

"Sirius."

He jumped as suddenly his own reflection was replaced by Sirius's face, grinning up at him. He grinned back.

"This is an ingenious bit of equipment," he said, his voice echoing back at him out of the mirror Sirius was holding.

"Yes, isn't it?" James said enthusiastically. "So you see, you can sit safely in the common room and warn us if you see Filch or Mrs Norris coming our way. We'll take the Invisibility Cloak, just to be sure, and those penetrating omnioculars we made last year, so we can see if there's anyone the other side of the doors. But really I see no risk at all - we'll be two invisible marauders abducting an invisible pet."

James and Sirius put their plan into action that evening. Throwing James's Invisibility Cloak over them, they descended the stairs from the dormitory and crept quietly across the common room, taking care to avoid bumping into the younger students that were milling about there. Peter was standing by beside the portrait hole, and Remus sat in the corner, the Marauder's Map hidden in the large book he had propped up in front of him.

He alone in all of Gryffindor Tower knew where his two friends were. The dots marked 'James Potter' and 'Sirius Black' stood right beside that marked 'Peter Pettigrew'. Remus peered over the top of the book and nodded in Peter's direction. The latter immediately pushed back the painting and scrambled through the hole, making sure not to close it behind him at once, but leave enough time for the other two to slip through after him.

"Okay," Sirius's voice hissed from under the Cloak when they were out. "You can shut it now. Remember not to go straight back in, or someone might wonder what you're up to, clambering out the portrait hole only to hop straight back in again."

"Right," said Peter. "Y-you two be careful."

"Of course," James said. "Cheerio."

And he and Sirius set off along the passage, down the stairs and out into the grounds. Peter checked his watch. When he had spent five minutes hovering nervously beside the portrait, earning some very stern looks from the Fat Lady, he finally muttered the password ('dungbomb') and slipped back inside. He strolled over in what he hoped was a casual manner and fell into a chair beside Remus.

"Well," he whispered rather obviously out of the corner of his mouth. "How are they doing?"

"They're by the paddock next to Hagrid's cabin," Remus whispered into his book.

"Anyone near them?"

"Hagrid's inside the cabin. Filch is in his office, though, and Mrs. Norris is patrolling North Tower. Professor Darkhardt left the castle just after Prongs and Padfoot, but he headed off in the opposite direction."

"Oh. What else?" Peter asked, when Remus paused.

Remus appeared to be looking intently at his book, but in actual fact his eyes were glued to another moving dot on the map ... one that stopped moving just as Peter asked the question. Lowering the book a fraction, Remus looked up. Peter followed suit and jumped back, startled to find Lily Evans standing right over them.

"Hello," she said. "Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew whispering in a corner of the common room? That smells of mischief - especially as I don't see James or Sirius anywhere about."

Peter looked frightened, but Remus just smiled.

"What are they up to this time?" Lily asked. "Planting dungbombs in the History of Magic classroom in the hopes that Professor Binns will notice the stink and let us off lessons? Haven't they realised by now that Professor Binns notices nothing? I really don't want to sit through another double lesson with him, pinching my nose."

"No, it's not dungbombs," Remus assured her.

Lily looked sceptical.

"They're up to something though, aren't they?"

"You know those two." Remus shrugged. "They're not happy unless they have some clever scheme to work on."

Sighing heavily, Lily pulled up a chair and sat down.

"What are you two doing, then? Shouldn't you be out there, peeking round corners ready to head Filch off or stuff Mrs. Norris into a sack or something?"

"W-we've never done that!" Peter protested.

"I'm sure we would have if Sirius had thought of it," Remus pointed out. "I'll have to tell him. I've no doubts he'll be grateful for your advice, Lily."

Lily opened her mouth to protest, but then she caught the twinkle in Remus's eye, and in spite of herself she smiled.

"I wonder - what makes a sensible, hard-working boy like you hang around with those two crooks?" she asked curiously.

"Probably the same thing that makes a pretty, well-behaved girl like you feel a day hasn't been well spent unless she's monopolised James Potter for at least thirty minutes," he retorted with ease.

Lily stared at him for a moment, then she laughed.

"All right, I'll admit he has a certain - charm. You'd better not tell him I said that, though, it might make him big-headed."

"Don't worry, I think he knows."

Lily shook her head, still smiling. Remus stole another glance at the map. The dots marked 'James Potter' and 'Sirius Black' were on their way back to the main entrance of the castle. He looked up again to find Peter biting his lip, and Lily gazing around the common room, apparently lost in thought. She caught him watching her, smiled once more and said slyly,

"So, Remus ... you think I'm pretty, do you?"

Remus seemed taken aback. Had he said that? It must have slipped out unintentionally.

"Well, I ..." he murmured.

Lily's smile widened.

"That's nice of you," she said. "Thanks."

Remus relaxed, and was just casting around for something else to say when his thoughts were rudely interrupted by a loud crash somewhere in the hallway. The small group of people in the common room all feel silent, staring at the portrait hole. The book Remus was holding slipped so far that the map lay there, plainly visible, but luckily everyone was too distracted to notice. They waited with baited breath, and were just deciding that someone must have simply knocked something over outside when there was another crash and a thud, and then the sound of hollow, high-pitched laughter.

"What the -" sixth-year Fabian Prewett exclaimed loudly.

Remus and Lily got to their feet. Peter looked up at his friend anxiously. Out in the hall, the eerie sounds continued.

"I think some of us ought to go and take a look what's going on," Gemma suggested.

Remus nodded his agreement.

"Lily, Fabian, Gemma - you stay here with the younger students," he said as several first and second-years began appearing from their dormitories, many of them looking rather frightened. "Peter, Frank, Marlene, Tina, Donald - come along."

Everyone obediently did as he said. Peter snatched up the map from the table, hastily wiped it blank and stuffed it in his pocket. They clambered out through the portrait hole and made their way along the corridor, following the continuing noises that seemed to be moving away from them now.

"What on earth is happening?" Marlene Moss wondered aloud.

A loud wail reached their ears.

"Goodness knows," muttered Donald Gills, the Gryffindor seeker.

They rounded a corner and almost collided with another group of students, led by Aurora and Daniel from Ravenclaw and Damian from Hufflepuff.

"Damian," Frank called, rushing forward. "So you lot heard it too."

"We were in the library when the commotion began. What is it?"

"I don't -"

Frank was interrupted by another loud crash. Several of the younger students behind Damian jumped a few inches, and someone suddenly shot past him and Frank, heading straight for Remus like a streak of lightning.

"Heather!" he exclaimed, swaying slightly with the sudden impact as she clutched at his arm.

"R-Remus, I'm frightened. What's happening?"

"I've no idea," he said quietly, putting his arm around her shoulder while gripping his wand more firmly in his right hand. "But don't be frightened, Heather, I'll look after you."

She nodded tensely and Remus turned back to the others. "We'd better split up, try to come at the source of these noises from several directions. And someone ought to go and alert a teacher. It seems the noise hasn't reached their offices yet ..."

His mind went back to what he had seen on the Marauder's Map. Some teachers weren't even in their offices. He didn't know what was going on, but he knew he would feel happier if Professor Darkhardt were near right now.

"We're coming with you," Frank said at once, while Damian nodded.

"I'll come your way too," said Aurora.

"Okay, I'll go round that way with Daniel, Marlene and Tina then," said Donald, pointing off to his left.

"Right," Remus agreed. "Peter, you go and find Professor Darkhardt."

"Oh, but -"

"Go on," Remus urged. "He went towards the Forbidden Forest."

Peter looked like he would rather be heading back towards Gryffindor Tower than go looking for their teacher on the edge of the forest, but he nodded and left at once.

Donald Gills, Daniel Moore, Marlene Moss and Tina Truffle turned and went the other way, a group of first and second-year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws tailing along behind them. Remus, his arm still around Heather, led the rest of them further along the corridor they were in. The noises grew louder as they went, but they seemed to be stationary now, as though whoever was making them was remaining in one place, waiting to be found.

At the end of the passage they heard a particularly loud, screeching laugh. Frank and Damian rounded the corner first, Remus, Heather and Aurora right behind them, followed by the rest of the younger students, and came face to face with a suit of armour, standing in the middle of the passage. It was from this that the continued noises were issuing. As the students appeared, the suit of armour began rocking to and fro, and then it clanked towards them, its stiff legs taking quick, awkward-looking strides. Heather squealed with fright and the suit of armour gave an evil cackle.

"Hang on," said Damian when he heard the laugh, no longer so muffled now because they were so much nearer to the source. "Does anyone else think that sounds a lot like -"

He was interrupted at that moment by something garishly colourful shooting out behind the visor and zooming round their heads. The empty suit of armour collapsed to the floor with a crash.

"Peeves!" Aurora exclaimed. "What the devil do you think you're doing?"

Peeves stuck his tongue out at her and spun upside down just as Donald and the others came running from the other end of the passage.

"Peeves!" Donald panted. "So that's what all the noise was about! And for a minute I thought it was - You-Know-Who."

Heather winced and clapped her hand over her mouth.

"Shh, don't worry," Remus said. "He couldn't possibly get into Hogwarts."

His voice was low and comforting, and cleverly concealed the fact that Donald had just voiced his own fears.

"Peeves," he said more firmly, "Don't you ever do that sort of thing again! Playing tricks on people openly is one thing, but frightening the wits out of younger students like this isn't funny."

Peeves made a huffy noise and glared at Remus. His glinting eyes spotted Heather, and he looked back at Remus with a wide, mischievous grin.

"Oh nooo," he said. "You wouldn't want me to frighten the ickle students, would you? Pity, I could tell them some stories that would freeze the blood in their ickle veins. Shall I?"

"No," said Remus, paling.

"Haha," Peeves cackled. "Oh yes, I could tell them some stories ..."

"Shut up, Peeves!" Frank shouted.

But Peeves just went on cackling, and then he began chanting in a high-pitched voice,

"Loony, loopy Lupin. Loony, loopy Lupin ..."

"Let's go," said Aurora quickly.

But at that moment, they heard hurried footsteps coming along the passage behind them, and Peeves's face fell. There, her tartan dress sweeping through the air as she walked briskly towards them and followed by none other than the Bloody Baron, floating just beneath the chandelier, was Professor McGonagall, her lips as narrow as the students had ever seen them, her wand held out before her.

"Peeves!" she exclaimed angrily. "I thought as much. How dare you cause such a raucous?! Baron, I suggest you have a word with this poltergeist ..."

Peeves had stopped laughing and chanting and was looking plainly terrified.

"Oh - err - your baronlyness - err - I was just ..."

The Bloody Baron floated towards Peeves, and McGonagall turned to the students.

"Come on, everyone, it's getting late and you should all be getting back to your dormitories. Run along, now, there's nothing more to see."

Many of the students shot looks of regret back over their shoulders as they moved away from Peeves and the Bloody Baron, trying to catch a glimpse of what the ghost would do to punish the poltergeist for his charade. They returned to the point where they had met, and Remus gently pushed Heather away from him. She seemed reluctant to let go.

"It's all right," he said gently. "There aren't going to be any more disturbances tonight, I'm sure."

"I hope so," Heather said timidly. "I'm sorry I was so nervy, but - with all the bad news we've been getting this year, everything seems to frighten me."

Remus nodded understandingly just as Aurora came over to them.

"Come," she said kindly to the younger girl. "Let's go back to the common room together, shall we?"

Heather nodded, and shot Remus a brief smile.

"Thanks for being so patient with me," she whispered.

Remus smiled back.

"Good night, Heather. Night Aurora."

He turned to follow the others back to Gryffindor Tower, wondering where on earth Peter had got to.

Remus lay in his bed, the hangings drawn back, watching the half moon through the window. Frank was asleep in his bed by the other wall, but three beds in the dormitory were still empty. Remus looked at his watch and a worried crease appeared between his eyes. Where were the others? He stared at the door as though willing it to open and his friends to enter, but nothing happened for over an hour. He lit his wand and began reading, pausing every now and then to look at the door and his watch in turn. Finally, long past midnight, he heard a creak on the stairs outside the door and it was pushed open slowly. Peter shuffled in, looking downcast. Remus laid his book aside.

"Where have you been?" he whispered so as not to wake Frank.

Peter looked even more upset.

"I lost it."

"Lost what?"

"The map," said Peter miserably. "I was just about to leave the entrance hall, and I was getting the map out to see where Darkhardt was, when Filch turned up. He whipped the map from my hand then and there and carted me off to his office. And now the map's in this drawer of one of his file cabinets, marked 'Confiscated and highly dangerous'. I tried to make him give it back, I really did, Remus - but he wouldn't. And he was furious because I wouldn't tell him how to work it. I'm so sorry, I ..."

"It's all right, Peter," Remus said, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Don't worry about it. It's gone and that's that. We won't be here much longer anyway, and we really won't be needing it after this year. But why were you gone so long?"

"Well, Filch gave me detention and made me take it there and then. I tried to explain to him about the noises we'd heard and that I was supposed to be looking for Darkhardt, but he wouldn't listen. He made me help him hunt all over the castle for something that had been leaving muddy pawprints all over the place and digging holes in the floorboards."

Remus's eyes widened. "Muddy pawprints? But - I thought James and Sirius were supposed to be bringing the mudscuttler in here first and releasing it at an appropriate time in Filch's office ..."

He glanced across at the two empty beds.

"I wonder ..."

He didn't have to wonder for long. Barely five minutes later, the door opened again and James and Sirius entered. James's Invisibility Cloak hung over his shoulder and both of them were covered in mud and scratches.

"What happened to you?" Peter cried.

"Shhh!" the other three hissed. Frank grunted in his sleep.

"S-sorry. What happened to you?" Peter whispered.

"The blasted beast got away when we reached the entrance hall," Sirius complained, dropping onto the end of Remus's bed.

"Mind you, we were almost glad of it," James said gloomily, looking in the mirror and surveying a nasty scrape on his left cheek. "I didn't realise these creatures were so violent. It kept trying to get away, and had almost scratched us to blazes by the time we reached the castle."

"We tried to catch it, of course," Sirius said. "But - well, we couldn't see where it had gone, could we? So in the end we gave up and decided to leave it to Filch."

"Yes, well - Filch decided to leave it to Peter, it seems," Remus said.

James and Sirius stared.

"What?"

Peter nodded shamefacedly.

"We still haven't found the thing, of course. But he had me look everywhere - even in the girl's bathroom on the second floor."

"Eurgh," said Sirius, pulling a face. "Isn't that the one where that idiot ghost lurks around?"

"Moaning Myrtle," Peter said. "Yes."

"Hm. I met her once when I was hiding in there from Filch," Sirius said. "She was dreadful. Moan, moan, moan. Mind you ..." - he grinned - "she seemed to fancy me a bit. Course, she's a right pest. Bit like Bertha, I suppose."

"Yes, well," Peter murmured. "I didn't find your mudscuttler, anyway. And I lost the map."

"What?!"

"Shh!"

This time it was James, Peter and Remus hissing at Sirius to be quiet. He and James listened in shocked silence while Peter told them what had happened. James seemed inclined to agree with Remus that it wasn't such a great loss to them, as this was their last year anyway, but Sirius became really cross with Peter for losing the map and actually didn't speak to him for days. He didn't know why he was reacting so violently to this news. Maybe it was because the map had been the first thing the four friends had created together. It was their brainchild, it bore all of their nicknames, it was the symbol of their friendship ... and now Filch had it locked away. He tried to persuade the others that they should break into Filch's office one night and get it back, but as James pointed out, Filch would probably be waiting for them to do just that, and would love nothing better than to catch them at it, even if it meant guarding his office twenty-four hours a day.

Darkhardt's Defenders

October melted into a wet and windy November, and soon Hogwarts was covered in a thick blanket of snow. Many students again spent Christmas at Hogwarts, a Christmas more subdued than that of the last years because of continued reports of the increasing numbers of Death Eaters, of Dark powers at work inside the Ministry, of witches and wizards turning on their friends, of attacks, torturing, killings and disasters so great that much of the wizarding community was amazed at how the Muggles still managed to go through life so blindly unaware of the danger that threatened them.

The New Year's celebrations were similarly quiet, livened up only by the magnificent dragon-shaped fireworks Sirius and James had managed to obtain and the exploding pumpkin candles they smuggled onto the table. However, no sooner were the festivities over than Professor Darkhardt announced his determination to use every spare moment of time before the end of the holidays for their extra Dark Arts defence training, and so when darkness fell, James and his friends obediently made their way to the empty, normally unused dungeon that had been set aside for this purpose.

James stepped into the cold and gloomy chamber and looked around. He thought back to how this group had come into being. There had been only five of them to begin with: himself, Sirius, Remus, Peter (who had taken some persuading and a lot of assurance that they would take care of him) and Frank.

At their first session, Professor Darkhardt had specified three things regarding the addition of new members: One, that no one under the age of fourteen should be allowed to join. Two, that only those people should be approached who were definitely 'on the right side', as he put it. And three, that no one should join unless they themselves felt brave enough to face the worst if they had to.

The first had been abided by in all cases but one, namely that of Gryffindor seeker Donald Gills, who had been only thirteen at the time. Donald had happened to overhear Sirius talking to some of the older Gryffindor boys, and there had been no way of keeping him away after that.

The second, in the eyes of the group's members, automatically - though perhaps unfairly - led to the exclusion of any of the Slytherins. The mere thought of asking a Slytherin to join in fact never entered any of their heads.

The last criterion had led some of the students who had been approached to regretfully shake their heads and refuse, particularly in the case of some of the Hufflepuffs who, though noted for their loyalty and their definite opposition to the Dark Arts, generally admitted freely that they lacked the courage of the Gryffindors or even the Ravenclaws.

However, three Hufflepuffs had remained: Damian Diggle, Florence Fortescue and Michael Hornby. The latter, however, had already been in his seventh year, and was now no longer at Hogwarts. As far as James knew, Michael was now working for the Department of Mysteries. His place with the Defenders (and as Quidditch commentator) had been taken last year by Stephen Ross, whose older brother, former Ravenclaw keeper Martin Ross, had been Michael's best friend at Hogwarts. Damian Diggle, unsurprisingly, had been approached by Frank Longbottom almost as soon as the group had been formed and persuaded, against his doubts that he would not prove a good enough wizard, to join.

Damian had in turn spoken to the adventure-loving Florence, also in seventh year, who now stood with her head of thick, bobbed black hair leaning against the wall behind her, and smiled their way as they entered.

Stephen Ross stood a little further away from the door, together with a group of the older boys: Daniel Moore, the tall and broad-shouldered Ravenclaw; Ravenclaw chaser Benjy Fenwick; sixth-year Gryffindors Richard Turpin and Fabian Prewett.

James counted the number of people in the room. There were twenty-one all told. He spotted Lily and Aurora standing with Mary Crimple, Tina Truffle and Gemma Crowe at the other end of the room and waved. It had taken some persuading to get Lily to join, even after the talk James had had with her that one Christmas. Oh, she had had no doubts about the need to fight the Dark Arts and was enthusiastic enough when you got her on her own, but she tended to be a little shy, and one thing she did not like was if Professor Darkhardt ever chose to call her forward to demonstrate something she had learnt. Though James had never yet seen her fail, particularly with protection charms, she did not seem to like having the eyes of all those people fixed on her.

*Unlike me*, James thought with a secret smile. He and Sirius liked nothing better than to volunteer to try out new and sometimes dangerous spells and duelling techniques. Sirius, in particular, was often hard to discourage. He would persistently keep volunteering until Professor Darkhardt finally gave in and let him have his way.

This display of eagerness, his courage and the pranks he kept coming up with to keep the atmosphere light and cheer people up had made Sirius extremely popular, especially with the girls. James noticed how, once again, many heads turned as they entered the chamber, and several of the girls seemed to try to catch Sirius's eye without their friends noticing. Sirius, meanwhile, seemed to enjoy this, and grinned and winked back openly, though James feared the same could not be said for Aurora. He looked her way and discovered that she had her back firmly turned towards the door.

"Professor Darkhardt's late," Peter commented, interrupting James's thoughts.

"Yes," James agreed. "I wonder what's keeping him."

"Oh great," Sirius groaned. "He gets us all down here in the middle of the holidays, and then he doesn't bother to show up."

"He'll be here," Remus said.

Sirius gave a snort. "If you say so. Well, I suppose we could start without him, couldn't we? We could practise some basic disarming and blocking techniques to warm up."

He looked around expectantly at his friends, and at last they nodded. Sirius cleared his throat dramatically and called,

"Hello! Hello, everyone!"

The murmuring voices died down and everyone turned to face him.

"Right," Sirius went on, tapping his knee with his wand and strutting up and down in a perfect imitation of Professor Darkhardt's gait. "Who'd like to volunteer to show us how to disarm an attacking wizard? Anyone?"

Florence, Gemma, Mary and several of the boys pushed forward, arms upraised.

"Ah," said Sirius, still imitating Professor Darkhardt's manner. He even fingered an imaginary scar on his cheek. "Yes ... Miss Fortescue and Mr. Fenwick, I think," he decided, indicating Florence and Benjy.

The two came forward and stood facing one another. Both drew their wands at the same time, but Florence was a split second faster, and Benjy's wand flew from his hand in a controlled arc. Sirius caught it.

"Come on, Benjy. You can do better than that!" Daniel Moore called out.

Benjy took his wand back from Sirius and faced Florence once more, determined not to let her beat him again. He counted to three, then he shouted "Expelliarmus" so suddenly and violently that Florence not only dropped her wand, but did a double somersault backwards and landed on the floor with a thud, knocking her head against the wall.

Benjy bit his lip. Everyone grouped round the girl on the floor, but Sirius managed to push his way to the front.

"Florence?" he called, worried, crouching beside her and touching her shoulder.

She stirred and opened her eyes. It seemed to take her a moment to focus, but at last she smiled and answered,

"I'm fine."

Sirius grinned.

"That was quite a spin you took."

"Yes. My head feels like it's spent too long in mum's washing machine."

There was a brief interruption while some of the purely wizard-born students present asked the muggle-borns and those with one Muggle parent to explain just what exactly a washing machine was. Then Sirius and the apologetic Benjy helped Florence to her feet, and Sirius was about to call for a new pair of volunteers when the door to the dungeon opened and Professor Darkhardt came in, followed by another man.

The students eyed this newcomer suspiciously. He was tall, with dark but greying shoulder-length hair and a long, pointed nose.

"Good evening, everyone," Professor Darkhardt said. "This is Mr. Alastor Moody, a good friend of Professor Dumbledore's. He has come to help us learn more about the weapons of Lord Voldemort and his supporters."

As always when the professor spoke that name, a hush fell on the assembled group. That name had become a synonym for death and destruction, and many people in the wizarding world - not just students - had grown afraid to speak it. Others, however, like Professors Dumbledore and Darkhardt, insisted that the fear to use that name would only increase fear of the person it described, and therefore refused to use the more common forms of referring to the Dark Lord by saying "You-Know-Who" or "He who must not be named".

Alastor Moody looked around him, and studied each of the students in turn. Many of them could not hold his gaze for long. His eyes were piercing and made them feel uncomfortable. Moody's eyes settled on Sirius.

"So, you decided you would give a little lesson of your own, did you?"

"I thought it couldn't hurt to start practising while we were waiting for the professor," Sirius replied coolly.

Moody nodded and turned to Darkhardt.

"We did keep them waiting rather, didn't we, Narbus?"

"Yes," Darkhardt agreed, walking slowly to the opposite wall where stood the only table in the chamber. "But we will make up for that now we are here. Mr. Moody," he told the students, "is an Auror, and knows more about the Dark Arts than even I can boast. Tonight, he will show you certain curses that our enemies may use, curses that the Death Eaters have been using to torture Muggles, and even to kill - curses that are forbidden by all civilised laws of wizardry. You know the curses I mean, Lupin?"

Remus looked up.

"Yes sir," he said slowly. "The Unforgivable Curses."

"Exactly," Moody agreed, coming over to stand beside Professor Darkhardt.

"The Imperius curse, the Cruciatus curse and Avada Kedavra. Do you also know what these are used for, young man?"

Remus nodded.

"The Imperius curse gives the user total mind control over his victim. The Cruciatus curse causes unbearable pain and the last is known as the killing curse. It is impossible to block," he finished.

The other students swallowed hard and looked at their two teachers.

"Right again, Lupin," Professor Darkhardt agreed. "We will start tonight with the first of those curses and then proceed to the second, if we have time. Alastor ..."

Alastor Moody looked around at the expectant faces of the students. Then he began,

"The Imperius curse can be fought, but it requires a lot of willpower. The important thing is to remember what you want to do, and who you are. Concentrate. Never relax your guard for a moment. Constant vigilance is the motto you must remember. Any volunteers?"

Many hesitated, looking nervously at their friends, but Sirius at once stepped forward. Professor Darkhardt smiled crookedly. Moody inclined his head to one side.

"You again, eh?"

"Yes sir," Sirius replied.

"What's your name?"

"Black, sir. Sirius Black."

"Well, Sirius Black," Moody continued, "let's see if your willpower is as strong as you think."

He took out his wand, pointed it at Sirius and said,

"Imperio."

Sirius at once felt a lot lighter than he had done before. He was drifting, floating, soaring above the world. The dungeon wasn't dark any longer. In fact, it wasn't even a dungeon. It wasn't even a room. He was outside, the sun was shining and it was hot. He felt sweaty and uncomfortable. He needed to cool down. But how ... Ah! There, a few yards in front of him, was an open-air swimming pool. There was a small board just a few paces away, all he had to do was step on it and ...

No. Something told Sirius this wasn't right. He wasn't outdoors, he couldn't be. He hadn't moved an inch. Besides, how could it be hot out? It was the middle of winter, the water should be freezing.

*Go on,* said a voice in his head. *Climb up onto the board and jump.*

Sirius stared ahead, determined to find out what was going on here. There couldn't be a pool there, could there? Sure enough, as he concentrated on it, the pool evaporated, and with it went the board, the sun and the sweat. He was back in the dungeon, and in the place where the board had been stood an old wooden table. But still something was urging him to climb onto that table and jump. Sirius took a step towards it, and another. Suddenly he stopped.

No, why should he? What was the point in climbing onto a table, only to jump off of it again?

*Because I want you to,* said the voice in his mind.

*No,* Sirius answered it back.

*Yes. You will do it ...*

The voice sounded so persuasive, and yet ...

*No!* Sirius protested firmly. *I won't do it.*

With an effort, he turned around and walked back to his place between James and Peter. Suddenly the world came back into normal focus again and he turned to see Moody smiling down at him.

"Very good," the strange man said. "In fact, that was excellent for your first attempt. Now, anyone else like to try?"

Encouraged by Sirius's success, several people this time stepped forward. Moody was about to pick Daniel from Ravenclaw when Professor Darkhardt intervened. He turned around and looked straight across at Aurora, who was standing quietly beside Lily to one side of the room.

"Wouldn't you like to try, Miss Borealis?"

Aurora hesitated, then she shook her head.

"I think I'd rather not."

"Oh, come on, gorgeous," Sirius laughed. Several of the other girls giggled or murmured jealously. "I'll dare you. See if you can beat me."

Aurora shot him an odd glance.

"Well, what do you say?" Darkhardt persisted. "Are you going to let Mr. Black here have all the glory?"

The girl looked steadily up at the professor and shrugged.

"Very well."

She stepped forward, and the other students formed a semi-circle around her, Moody, Professor Darkhardt and the table against the wall. She steadied herself. The rush of strange thoughts came racing at her like a bull charging a red rag. Without really knowing how or why, acting purely out of some deep-rooted self-preserving instinct, Aurora quickly began assembling a kind of blockade in her mind. She reached out and grabbed the thoughts of those around her. A memory here, an idea there, a hope, a dream. She put them up in front of her, one by one, like bricks in a wall.

Moody gripped his wand tightly as it began shaking in his hand and tried to penetrate, but there were too many different thoughts, to many conflicting personalities and thought patterns for him to concentrate on hers. His curse was being deflected, unable to reach her as she kept her mind too occupied to accept it by concentrating on the thoughts of others. Moody kept it up for about five minutes, then the assault stopped.

"Miss Borealis?"

She felt a strong hand grasp her arm and opened her eyes to look up at Moody. He gave a queer smile.

"That was a pretty powerful defence you put up," he praised her. "I couldn't get through to you for even a second. It was as though you weren't even there."

Aurora smiled faintly. "Thank you, sir."

"Yes, you did very well," Professor Moody repeated approvingly. "But I think you could have done more, if you had tried. Would you care to have one more go and show us what you can really do?"

The girl looked at him, puzzled.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Don't concentrate on defence," he told her. "That method is fine when you know your attacker is not really determined to force you, and when there are enough others around you so you can build up your little wall of strange thoughts. Now, imagine you and I are alone. Imagine, for the sake of this exercise, that I am a true supporter of Lord Voldemort ... why don't you try to turn the tables on me this time?"

Aurora looked puzzled for a moment, but finally she seemed to know what he meant. She sighed and agreed. The others held their breath while they watched Moody stand back and cast the curse once again.

This time, Aurora changed her strategy. Instead of grasping around for other thoughts to concentrate on, instead of distracting herself, she locked on the full blow of the curse.

*Climb onto the table, jump ...*

She pulled that thought in, held onto it, concentrated, waited for it to come again ...

*Climb onto the table, jump ...*

Yes, it was getting stronger now, but she was holding it. She was in control, she had the thought encapsuled like a tiny bullet. It came at her again, and again she held it. She began slowly turning it around in her mind, and her temples started to throb. But she did not give up. The thought was still coming at her, ever-repeating, stronger every time, but she was succeeding. Every blast she received, she added to the load of thoughts she had accumulated, and at last she was ready.

The others saw her open her eyes and stare straight at Moody. Her lips parted, and in a barely audible voice she murmured,

"Climb onto the table, jump ..."

Alastor Moody stumbled as though a volley of bullets had hit him. He cried out in pain and doubled over. His assault on Aurora's mind had stopped, but her thoughts were still charged with the malice of the Imperius curse. She turned around wildly, hardly seeing the faces before her. Someone stepped forward, and at last the thought capsule cracked and the curse broke free, it was unleashed in full force on the person standing opposite her.

Sirius Black ran towards the table, climbed onto it and jumped. He climbed it again, and again he jumped, and again, and again.

"Sirius!"

Aurora felt several people brush past her as she dropped to her knees. Her head felt like it was splitting. She closed her eyes, but it was still no better.

"Aurora ... Rory!"

She forced her eyes open. Lily's pale face hovered just in front of her, looking terrified. Aurora opened her mouth to speak, then she fell forward into her friend's lap.

Several hours later, Aurora woke to find herself in a bed in the hospital wing. She blinked, and saw a pair of green eyes looking down at her.

"Lily ..." she murmured.

"Welcome back," said Lily.

Aurora paused a moment to collect her thoughts.

"What happened?" she asked at last. "What did I do?"

"You made Professor Darkhardt very proud, that's what," Lily said, smiling. "I've never seen him smile so much."

"But I ... I thought. I mean, I hurt that man, didn't I?"

"Moody? Yes. But that's all right, he was expecting you to. He said you must be a very powerful - what was it? - oh yes, a very powerful 'Natural-born Legilimens' to be able to turn an Imperius curse around like that, especially without any wand. And after you'd hit him, you still had so much force that you hit Sirius, too. He got the full blast of it."

Aurora groaned. She dropped back on her pillow, closed her eyes and didn't move for a while. The door to the hospital wing opened soon, however, and she looked up once more to see James stroll over to join them.

"Hello," he said, stopping beside Lily. "And how is our thought-cannon feeling now?"

"Not too bad, apart from a splitting headache," Aurora answered. "How's Sirius?"

James's expression darkened.

"Furious, to be honest. It took four of us to stop him climbing on that table again and again. After having been so proud before that he had been able to block Moody's curse so well, I think that made him feel rather a fool. And you know what he's like - he's certainly got a temper."

"Oh dear. I wish I hadn't hit him, of all people."

"Oh, cheer up, Aurora. I'm sure he'll get over it - in a few years," James laughed.

Lily shot him a 'how could you' look and patted her friend's arm.

"Well, at least no one was seriously hurt," she said. "And Mr. Moody was very impressed. He says you should consider a career as an Auror."

"What, me, in his law enforcement division? Chasing Dark wizards for a living, tracking them down, sending them to Azkaban, using my gift to make them come peacefully?"

Aurora shook her head.

"No, thank you. I'd rather use my talent to help people. I'm sure there are a lot of people in St. Mungo's that I could do something for. People who have been put under the Imperius curse themselves and can't break free of it, for instance. That's more my line, I think."

"Sounds a very good idea," James said appreciatively. Then he grinned. "After what we all saw today, I'm sure we all feel a lot safer knowing you're not likely to be deflecting any more curses in the near future."

"James!" Lily scolded, but Aurora actually smiled.

"Maybe you're right, James," she said. "It could be a lot safer for all of us."

The Lone Wolf

It was Saturday morning, about four weeks into the new term. Remus was making his way to the empty Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, feeling like several pixies were fluttering around inside his stomach. And yet, at the same time, he was unusually cheerful this morning. All right, so there would be a full moon next week, but who cared? This morning he would be teaching Heather about hexes and counter-hexes, and he had made up his mind that he would ask her to come into Hogsmeade with him this afternoon.

He didn't know what had brought about this sudden decision, but last night before falling asleep, he and the others had been talking about what they would do before their last year at Hogwarts came to a close, the things they would get up to before their final exams. They had also looked back on the things they had done, and Remus had found himself thinking back on the events of the past, and every time he did so, images of a young girl with curly brown hair and the clearest blue eyes he knew had filled his mind. He realised that he had known her for nearly four years now, and still he had never asked her out, probably because he had always been highly conscious of the fact that she was so much younger than him.

Remus cleared his throat before he pushed open the classroom door. Heather turned around in her seat and beamed at him.

"Good morning," she said brightly.

"Hello," Remus answered as casually as he could.

His stomach gave a nasty lurch and he wondered why he felt this way. He knew this girl, he knew she liked him, she wasn't likely to refuse - and even if she did, what would be so bad about that? He hadn't been out with her in four years, and he'd been fine, what would be so bad about her not wanting to go out with him now?

"Err - are you ready for some hexes?" he asked, placing his bag on the teacher's desk as usual.

"I suppose so. But before we start, could you take a look at that cupboard over there?"

Heather pointed to the far corner, which was rocking back and forth and nearly toppling over.

"It's been shaking like that ever since I came in. I ... I think there might be a Boggart in it."

Remus went over to take a closer look. He went back to his bag and took out the penetrating omnioculars he and the others had made. Holding them up to his eyes, he looked at the cupboard, and right through the closed door.

"Yes, it's a Boggart," he said. "Okay then, that's quite handy actually. We'll leave the hexes till next time and do Boggarts today instead."

Heather blanched.

"Oh no, Remus, please. I'd rather go straight to the hexes. I ... I don't like Boggarts. We did them with Professor Darkhardt last year and I was absolutely hopeless."

"You didn't tell me about that." Remus frowned.

"No," Heather admitted guiltily. "I knew if I told you I was having trouble with Boggarts, you'd get one for us to practise with, and I'm really terrified of - of mine. I mean, I know the spell you're supposed to use and all that, but I just can't think of anything that would make my Boggart less frightening."

"What does your Boggart turn into?"

"It's - err - no, I can't tell you," Heather said helplessly. "I can't even mention it, it's so horrible. I used to have nightmares when I was a little girl. I'd wake up crying and ..."

Remus nodded.

"All right. If you can't tell me, we'll just have to do it the hard way. We'll let it out, and then I'll see what it turns into, then I'll step in, put it back in the cupboard, and together you and I can think of something that will make it less frightening for you."

"Must we?" Heather asked plaintively. "Can't you just get rid of it?"

Remus smiled.

"I could. But I'm meant to be teaching you to defend yourself against dangers, and there's no greater danger than fear," Remus said, looking at her sympathetically. "It's always better to face your fears. It's the only way you can overcome them. And isn't it better to face them here, in this old classroom, within the safety of Hogwarts than out in the world at some later time when the danger might be a lot more serious? Remember, a Boggart is only the image of your greatest fear, not the thing you fear itself."

"That sounds like the sort of thing Professor Darkhardt would say," Heather remarked, frowning.

"He did," said Remus with a smile. "I adapted it a little. Because I think he's right. And wouldn't you rather I helped you overcome your fear now, than wait until you might be in real danger, and all alone?"

"I suppose so," Heather admitted.

"Well then. Let's go," he suggested, standing back from the cupboard that was being rattled from the inside.

Heather resigned herself to the fact that she was not getting out of this one, and gripped her wand firmly. Remus gave her an encouraging nod, then he said "Alohomora" and the cupboard door sprang open. Heather screamed at the sight of what immediately appeared in the open space, and Remus gave a heavy gasp, stepping back a pace.

There stood a monster, huge and ferocious, grey saliva dripping from its yellowish fangs, snarling and growling fiercely, its shackles raised. Remus looked at Heather, and all of a sudden it felt like a cold hand was taking hold of his heart and twisting it right round in his chest. There was a look of unmistakable terror in her eyes, her face was white and her mouth twisted. There was no way that look could be misinterpreted. She was not only scared to death of the thing that faced her - she was revolted by it.

"R-riddikulus," Heather said half-heartedly.

Her spell was too weak, cast with too little conviction and too much fear and uncertainty. It had not effect, and the beast began advancing on her, its fangs bared. Heather backed away against the wall.

"No," she pleaded. "No, don't. Stop!"

She stumbled and fell backwards, dropping her wand with a clatter. The creature was almost on top of her now.

"Nooo!" she screamed, crawling backwards. "Remus! Remus, make it stop! Help me! Remus!"

Remus seemed to come out of a kind of trance. Just as the Boggart-werewolf lowered its shaggy head to bite the girl, he leapt forward, grabbed it by the scruff of its neck and dragged it off her. The creature turned, but when it saw Remus, it transformed at once into a shimmering, silvery orb.

"Riddikulus," he said hoarsely. The orb vanished in a puff of smoke.

Heather sobbed quietly. Remus shook himself and stuck his wand back inside his wand case and in his pocket.

"Come," he said, trying to sound normal and pulling Heather to her feet. "We'd better get you down to the kitchens for some butterbeer. Warm you up."

Heather leaned against him, but Remus hesitated before he very gingerly patted her back. He led her out the room and down the stairs, he tickled the pear in the painting and explained to the eager house elves what they wanted, and when he felt that he could safely do so without arousing suspicion, he left Heather in their care and made his way back upstairs with heavy footsteps. He would not ask her to come to Hogsmeade with him after all, he couldn't. In fact, he didn't know how he could ever face her again. Something inside him had gone dead, killed by the look on the young girl's face when the werewolf had leapt out of the cupboard. Remus felt his eyes burning and blinked furiously.

Bang! There was a loud explosion and playing cards flew up in the air, then came tumbling down again like a shower of snowflakes.

"I don't believe you've won again!" Peter complained.

Sirius laughed, picking bits of card out of Lily's hair and laying them together again.

"Sorry, mate. That's the way the card tumbles, you might say."

Frank shook his head in mock despair.

"Somehow these cards seem to be jinxed to keep tumbling your way," he said.

"Sorry," said James, also laughing, "We should have warned you Sirius here is the greatest card sharp you ever saw."

"Aww, come on, don't embarrass me," Sirius begged. "Another game, anyone?"

The others all shook their heads, some playfully, some dejectedly.

"How about a game of gobstones instead?" Lily suggested.

"Yes - I'll play," said Damian Diggle.

Marlene Moss, Mary Crimple and Stephen Ross agreed. Peter decided to join in too, but Sirius managed to persuade Frank, Bertha Jorkins, Gemma and James to one last round of exploding snap. They were about half way through this when Remus walked into the Great Hall.

"Hello," Sirius said cheerfully. "Come to join us?"

"No," Remus said, sounding very distant.

James looked up at once and caught the strange look on his friend's face.

"What's up?" he asked.

"Nothing," Remus lied. "I just ... I think I'll go for some fresh air."

"It's raining," Mary pointed out casually.

"I know."

He turned and walked out of the Hall again, wondering why he'd gone there in the first place. He hadn't wanted company. He wanted to be alone. Remus walked down the front steps and towards the Forbidden Forest. Mary had been right, it was raining. In fact, as he walked, the rain became heavier. But Remus didn't care. It suited his mood.

He reached the first line of trees and walked on, and on and on, further and further into the Forest until it grew dense and dark and he couldn't see the castle when he looked back over his shoulder. He could not remember when he had ever felt so empty. He wasn't angry, he didn't blame Heather for her fear or her disgust of the thing her Boggart had turned into. He could understand it. He, himself, had been disgusted by the sight of it.

So he continued to walk, treading all the paths, marked and unmarked, that he and the others had discovered over the years. He didn't know how long he'd been walking when he finally came to a clearing and looked up at the sky, imagining that he could see the waxing moon up there, though the sky was only a pale grey littered with rain clouds, the sun struggling uselessly to shine through. He looked around and realised he didn't know where he was. He must have come further than they had ever ventured before. It occurred to Remus, quite detachedly, that he probably ought to feel nervous at that realisation, but he didn't. He didn't feel anything.

He sat down on a very damp log and looked up at the sky again, feeling the faint drizzle of rain on his face, and he realised that he didn't feel so bad any more. Maybe this was his destiny, to roam the world alone and live under the sky, to commune with the elements and ignore all the people back in the 'other' world, the world where people like him were considered monsters - and rightly, too. That world didn't really want him, he had known that for ages. For a number of years, he had made out it wasn't so, but he had been reminded of the truth today. Why should he go back there? There had always been rumours that werewolves lived in the Forbidden Forest. Well, why shouldn't he make those rumours true? If they weren't already. He looked around him, peering into the gloom among the black trees. Perhaps there were others like him here, others who would accept him, because they were no different, their lives were no happier.

But no. When he thought about it, he didn't think he wanted that, to live with other outcasts like him. Solitude was preferable to living as one outcast among many. It was probably the best thing he could do, for his family, his friends, and himself. What had he ever brought anyone but difficulties and misery? Even his parents ... He suddenly thought back to memories he had almost forgotten:

Waking up one night to hear subdued murmurs in the bedroom next door. His mother crying bitterly because a friend she had known since girlhood had left her after hearing what Remus was. Her red-rimmed eyes, from the tears she had concealed so bravely during the day but could not suppress at night. His father's serious face, so many years ago; his gruffness, his grief, his desperate struggle to find a cure for his son, scraping together the money to buy useless remedies ... his gentleness to his wife and the brutal aggressiveness of his row with Remus's grandmother that time. John was not aware that Remus had even been in the house, but Remus remembered nearly every word. His grandmother had blamed his mother for what he had become, had called her the worst names he had ever heard and cursed her. His father had been furious, had called his mother an old hag to her face and shown her to the door, threatening to hex and jinx her to unrecognisability if she ever set a foot in their clearing again. That night, Remus had again heard his mother crying.

Yes, he was definitely a bad-luck charm. He was responsible for his parents being cut off from all their friends, he was responsible for James and Sirius and Peter having gone against the law by secretly becoming Animagi, he was responsible for Severus Snape nearly having been killed that night down in the Whomping Willow and, worst of all, he was what Heather Woodcock feared and despised most in the world. It didn't matter that she had always seemed to like him, she had never really known him. If she knew what he really was, she would hate him, she would shrink away. He couldn't tell her. He couldn't bear the thought of her looking at him like she had looked at her Boggart this morning. He couldn't bear the thought of ever facing her again after what he had seen today.

The Search Party

James, Sirius and Peter looked everywhere for their friend, but he was nowhere to be found. In the end, like it or not, they were forced to go to Hogsmeade without him. But the outing was not so much fun when they didn't know what had become of Remus. They returned to Hogwarts that evening in a glum mood, planning to seek Remus out and demand an explanation. But he was still missing. They checked the common room, their dormitory, the library, the grounds and even the Shrieking Shack, but found no sign of him. Standing out by the lake, Sirius placed his hands on his hips impatiently and gazed into the murky water.

"Maybe he went for a dive," he suggested with a moody attempt at a joke.

"Oh, don't be ridiculous," said James impatiently, a worried frown fixed on his face. "Something must have happened to him. If we don't find him soon, we'll have to go and tell a teacher."

"Oh, I'm sure he'd love that," Sirius said. "He probably just fancied a bit of peace and quiet."

"He still wouldn't go wandering off without telling us," James objected.

"Pity we lost the map," said Sirius with an angry look at Peter. "If we still had it, we could see where he is."

"I-I'm really sorry about that, S-Sirius," poor Peter stammered.

"He must have gone into the Forest," James guessed, ignoring them. "There's nowhere else he can be, we've looked everywhere."

"Well, let's go and find him then."

James checked his watch.

"We can't, not now anyway. We need to get down to the dungeon and meet Darkhardt."

Sirius snorted. "Tell you what, you two go, and I'll look for Remus. I don't really feel like practising my defence skills today."

"You just want to avoid Aurora," James said shrewdly. "Sirius, I wish you'd stop this. What she did to you that time was an accident, she didn't mean to hurt you. Besides, it was weeks ago. Give her a break."

"Oh yeah, I'm sure you'd have loved it if she'd made you climb up on that table and act like a fool in front of everyone, wouldn't you?" Sirius said snidely. "The little mind-bender."

"Sirius!"

"S-Stop it, you two," Peter begged miserably. "Please. Let's just go down to the dungeon, maybe Remus will turn up. He's never missed one of Darkhardt's lessons yet."

The other two agreed and together the three of them made their way to the Defenders' meeting place, but Remus was not there. Professor Darkhardt questioned them closely as to what had become of their friend, but in the end he was convinced that they knew no more than he did. Aurora, meanwhile, was keeping very much in the background tonight, as she had been doing ever since the unfortunate night when her spell had hit Sirius, eyeing him nervously while he made sure to avoid looking at her at all, but bestowed dazzling smiles on every other girl that glanced his way. All in all, everyone was rather grateful when Professor Darkhardt announced that they had done enough for one night and sent them off to bed.

They trooped back to their common room, checked the dormitory once more and came back down to sink into their usual seats at the corner table, but not alone. Lily, Frank, Gemma and several of the others gathered round.

"So where is Remus, really?" Frank asked, sitting down with them.

"We don't know," James said, the worry showing ever more plainly on his face.

"This isn't like him," said Lily quietly. "He's never missed a meeting before. I do hope nothing's happened to him."

Her words voiced the sick feeling that was building up in James's stomach. What if something had happened to Remus? Maybe he had gone for a walk in the Forest - though James couldn't think why he would do that - and had met someone or something in there. What if he had been attacked by one of the beasts that lived there? What if he was lying wounded somewhere in the dark, unable to walk back to the castle, unconscious - or worse.

"Someone ought to go and look for him," Frank said.

At that precise moment, there was a commotion at the other end of the common room and the portrait hole opened. Professor McGonagall climbed through it and looked around her. She came over to their table and looked around at the students, her face white with worry.

"Professor Darkhardt tells me Lupin has gone missing," she said. "Is that so?"

"He's not in our dormitory," James replied. "We've looked all over the school for him, but he's nowhere to be found."

"When did you last see him?" McGonagall asked, her voice shaking slightly.

"This morning at breakfast. No - after that. Some time before lunch. We were playing games in the Great Hall, and he said he was going for a walk."

"It was raining, wasn't it?"

"Yes," James agreed.

"Did he say anything about his plans for today?"

"Not then. But at breakfast he'd mentioned he was going to give Heather Woodcock from Ravenclaw her usual extra tuition in the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom this morning," James said. "I think he was also planning to ask her to go to Hogsmeade with him this afternoon."

"Did he say that?" the Transfiguration teacher asked.

"No, but I sort of got that impression. He asked Sirius and me what places in Hogsmeade we thought were nicest to sit and have a drink and talk. He seemed pretty cheerful - then."

"And the next time you saw him he was going for a walk in the rain ... As far as you know, Miss Woodcock would have been the only person to speak to him between breakfast and when you saw him in the Great Hall?"

"I suppose she must have been."

McGonagall nodded and made her way back to the portrait hole, but just as she was about to climb through it, Professor Darkhardt came the other way.

"Narbus," she exclaimed, seeing the dark look on his face. "What is it?"

"I've spoken to the girl," he announced. "Last time she saw him was down by the kitchens."

"The kitchens?" Sirius repeated. "What were they doing there?"

Darkhardt looked across at them and paused for a moment, then he said. "Minerva, we'd better send out a search party. And I suggest Potter, Pettigrew and Black come with us."

"Can't I come too, sir?" Frank asked eagerly. "I want to help find Remus too."

"So do I," Lily agreed at once, and several of the others murmured their assent, but Professor Darkhardt shook his head.

"No, just those three," he said. "Come on."

Lily and Frank looked hurt.

"Please be careful," Lily begged James. "Oh, I hope he's all right."

"We'll search the castle again while you're gone," Frank said. "He's got to be around here somewhere."

James followed behind Professor Darkhardt, holding his wand aloft. The Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher had chosen to take him, Sirius and Peter into the Forbidden Forest to look for their friend, while Professors McGonagall and Flitwick were searching the paths down to Hogsmeade, Professor Sprout and Hagrid were combing the grounds and several of their fellow Gryffindors were going over the school. Hagrid had wanted to come into the Forest with them, but Darkhardt had refused. He had, however, accepted the offer of taking Molar, Hagrid's acient boarhound, with them, hoping that he would be able to pick up a trail.

"That dog's useless," Sirius whispered in James's ear. "If only we didn't have Darkhardt with us, I could sniff out old Moony myself in a jiffy. Ouch!" He had scratched his arm on a bramble. "I'll kill Remus, if we ever find him."

"Professor Darkhardt," James said when they stopped for a moment to decide which way to go next, Fang sniffing the ground and looking every bit as lost as the humans. "What did Heather tell you, sir?"

The old wizard sighed and turned to face the boys.

"Something happened today that I had hoped could be avoided. I've known for over a year that it was likely to happen, and that Remus would be deeply hurt by it, given his affection for Miss Woodcock. And it's all my fault, since I brought them together in the first place."

"You mean you deliberately hooked him up with Heather?" Sirius exclaimed.

Darkhardt gave one of his crooked smiles.

"Not exactly. I guessed he would find it hard to become close to girls with his condition. Miss Woodcock struck me as a very sweet and understanding creature, and she did need help - I thought that teaching her would give him more confidence, perhaps embolden him to address other girls at some time. But by the time I found out just how much she might hurt him one day, I'd known for ages that he wasn't interested in any other girl but her. I probably knew before he did. I almost regret having introduced the pair of them now. Young people are so easily hurt - and so deeply."

"I don't understand," James said. "How could Heather hurt Remus? She wouldn't hurt a fly!"

"Not willingly. She has no idea that it's her fault he's run off, or she would be even more upset than she is anyway."

"Run off?"

"Oh yes. Like I said, young people take things badly. Potter, you know what it's like to become attached to someone."

"Me, sir?"

"Miss Lily Evans?"

James felt his face flush. "Err ..."

"You see? How would you feel if you discovered that the thing she was most afraid of in the whole world was you?"

"What do you mean?" James asked. "Heather's not afraid of Remus, that's ridiculous. Frank told us how she ran straight to him the day before Halloween, when Peeves was making a racket to frighten the younger students. We teased Remus about it after. But the thing is, she knew Remus would protect her."

"Yes, but he couldn't protect her from her fears. Today, the pair of them tackled a Boggart in my classroom. It saw Miss Woodcock first, and changed ..."

"Oh my ..." James paled. "You don't mean to say it changed into ... into ..."

"Oh-oh," Sirius muttered.

Peter looked puzzled.

"Well, what did it change into?" he asked.

"Oh, for heaven's sake use your brains, or haven't you got any?" Sirius scolded.

James was still looking steadily at Professor Darkhardt.

"It changed into a werewolf, didn't it?" he said.

Darkhardt nodded.

"Damn!" Sirius cried. "So that's why he's run off. The silly idiot, as if that meant anything. Heather doesn't even know he's a werewolf, just because she's afraid of them in general doesn't mean she's afraid of him!"

"No," Professor Darkhardt agreed, now leading the way further into the Forest. "But to see her reaction when this creature - and she says it was the most horrible thing she'd ever seen - jumped out of the cupboard must have been terrible for him."

"Have you told her?" James said. "Did you explain what happened?"

"No. I considered doing so, but I changed my mind. If she had worked it out herself, it would have been a different matter. But - surprisingly for a Ravenclaw, since they're supposed to be so bright - she suspected nothing. So I decided Remus has a right to decide for himself whether he wants her to know the truth or not," the professor said earnestly. "I had no right to meddle in the first place, I should have left him alone. From now on, I intend to let him know the truth and make his own choices. I've messed up his young life enough, I won't interfere anymore."

"You were only trying to help," James said. "And you did, sir. The trust you showed him by suggesting he teach Heather did give Remus confidence, and a goal to work towards. He decided he wanted to make teaching his profession, and he was happier than he had been before."

"And now he'll be unhappier than he was before," Darkhardt said coldly. "No, Potter, I made a mistake by interfering with your friend's life. I suppose I hoped that I could correct a mistake I made once, many years ago ... I was wrong. In future, I will ... Fang?!"

The boarhound had stopped in his tracks, sniffing the air. Then he charged forward suddenly through the undergrowth and began barking furiously.

"He's found him!" James cried.

Professor Darkhardt let out a deep sigh of relief, and they all followed the dog.

Remus looked up in surprise when the large black dog, followed by his friends and his teacher, came running towards him.

"Remus!" James yelled, coming straight over and gripping him by the shoulder. "Are you all right?"

"Fine," Remus said in a quiet, withdrawn voice. "What are you lot doing here?"

Sirius gave a dry laugh. "What are we doing here? What a question! Looking for you, of course!"

"That's nice of you, but you needn't have bothered," Remus said. "I've made up my mind not to come back to Hogwarts. I'm going to settle down here in the Forest, or in some other wood. Somewhere where no one will ever come across me by accident and I can't hurt anyone."

"Remus, don't be stupid. You could never hurt anyone!" James said.

"I'm not being stupid. I'm being sensible. What I am - I'm dangerous, and people are frightened of things like me ..."

"No one's frightened of you," James disagreed. "They care about you."

"They wouldn't if they knew what I am."

"Oh yes they would!" James insisted. "And if you told them the truth and gave them a chance, they'd tell you so themselves. Look around you. All four of us here know the truth, and we've been worried sick about you."

Remus drew a halting breath.

"I'm sorry for that, but the rest of the school would probably feel much safer with me gone if they knew ..."

"No, they wouldn't. If you only knew how worried you've had everyone. McGonagall was so white in the face she looked like a ghost, Sprout and Hagrid are searching every inch of the grounds, we've gone over the castle with a tooth comb. Frank's probably pulling the place apart right now."

"I'm sorry I worried you," Remus said. "But my mind's made up."

"Oh, will you stop it?!" Sirius exploded. "Just give it a rest, can't you? Shall I tell you something, Moony? I'm sick and tired of seeing you make yourself miserable and looking for ways to pile more weight onto your own shoulders. So the first girl you ever looked at is scared of werewolves - forget her! She's not the only girl at Hogwarts, Remus, and she certainly isn't the only girl in the world!"

Remus opened his mouth to protest, but closed it again without speaking.

"Sirius is right," James agreed. "You really shouldn't go wasting all you've ever worked for because of Heather. I can understand you're upset, but that's what you've got us for. We're your friends, and we don't want you running off and leaving us. We've told you before we don't care what you are, we're here for you - and when things like this happen, we want to be there to help you. You shouldn't run away from us, Remus, whatever else happens."

"Come back to the castle," Darkhardt added in a low voice that was much gentler than his usual growl. "The teachers are worried about you, and I don't suppose any of your friends waiting back there will get much sleep until you're back either."

Remus looked reluctant, but he nodded with a sigh and rose slowly to follow them back. He said nothing all the way back to the school, nor when they got there and McGonagall, her eyes slightly damp, insisted on bringing him a cup of tea personally, when Frank and Donald slapped him on the back warmly and Lily smiled at him. He took his tea straight up to the dormitory and was grateful that no one followed him up for a long while. By the time James, Sirius, Frank and Peter decided to check on him, he had fallen into an uneasy sleep.

Professor Darkhardt's Secret

Even though no one but the marauders, Frank, Darkhardt, McGonagall, Dumbledore and possibly Aurora Borealis knew what had really happened that day, everyone seemed to have realised that something had happened to upset Remus Lupin very much. Most people put the crisis down to the build-up of nervous strain before the N.E.W.T. exams in summer, and everyone was kinder to him than usual - everyone except the Slytherins - and everywhere he went he was greeted with friendly smiles.

Remus made use of everyone's assumption that he suffered from fear of exams to take the opportunity, on the Tuesday after the moon had waned again, to inform Heather Woodcock quite casually when he met her in the entrance hall that morning that he would not be able to give her extra tuition anymore, because he would be too busy studying for his own exams. Heather looked upset and said she hoped that this would not mean that she would be seeing very much less of him. Remus avoided giving her an outright answer, but excused himself as soon as possible and did not speak to her for the rest of that day or the next. On Thursday after their afternoon lesson, Professor Darkhardt summoned Remus to his office.

"Sit down, Lupin," Professor Darkhardt said when he had closed the door.

Remus reluctantly did as he was told. The professor leaned back in his chair and fingered the scar on his cheek as Remus had seen him do so many times before. At last he spoke.

"First of all, I want you to know that I fully understand why you don't want Heather or anyone else to find out what you are. I realise you've been forced to learn the hard way that many people are liable to turn their backs on their closest friends for fear of what they are. I know there's a lot of prejudice going around against people like you. And the reason I know is because I was once the most prejudiced of the lot."

"You, sir?" Remus said disbelievingly. "But ..."

"Yes, me. In fact, when Professor Dumbledore first spoke of bringing you here, I was dead against it, and I told him so. The others had their doubts for safety reasons, of course - especially Professor McGonagall. But when Albus told her he'd met you and told her your story, she soon softened up. Minerva just can't keep her eyes dry when she hears a hard-luck story like yours. But me - I was a very different matter."

He paused, and this time Remus said nothing, but sat stunned, waiting for the professor to continue.

"I rigorously opposed the idea of having you here," Professor Darkhardt went on. "I was convinced it would never work, that whatever precautions were taken, you would somehow escape, you would find a way to attack your fellow students while you were transformed, because the bloodlust was in your nature, and no matter how peaceful you may appear on the surface, a werewolf is a werewolf and not to be trusted."

"Y-you really believed that?" Remus asked quietly, stammering slightly for the first time in years.

"I did. I hated werewolves," he said so bitterly that Remus flinched. "I hated and despised them - I hunted them. That was my profession, you see, before Albus Dumbledore persuaded me to settle down and I became a teacher here over thirty years ago. I was always on the move, from one end of the country to the other, and everywhere I went I carried a set of ten razor-sharp silver daggers. Everything I owned that was made of metal, was made of pure silver. Whenever there was a full moon, I went looking for prey. I could smell a werewolf for miles against the wind, I could feel his presence - none that I had once begun to track down ever got away."

"You mean y-you ... killed them?"

"Yes," Darkhardt said coldly. "I killed them. All of them. And not once did I feel any kind of compassion or remorse. They were monsters and deserved no better. Even if their human parts tried to fight the beast in them by day, when the full moon came out, they were all the same." He touched the side of his face. "Including the one that gave me this scar."

"Who was he?" Remus asked chokily.

"He was only a boy," the professor replied in a hushed, almost dreamy voice. "A young lad just about your age. He too was bitten as a child, but he was not as lucky as you. His mother fretted herself to death over what had happened to her son and his father ... Well, his father was a man who had long been convinced that werewolves were nothing less than demons sent from hell, monsters that had to be destroyed. As far as he was concerned, his son had been touched by the devil and become an outcast, a mere ... thing that he must get rid of as soon as possible, or rot in hell himself. But he couldn't bring himself to kill his own flesh and blood. So he made his son's life hell instead. He treated him like an animal, keeping him locked up day and night, even when there wasn't a full moon. He starved him until he was so weak he could barely move. And yet, somehow, the boy escaped ..."

"And you hunted him down?" Remus guessed.

"Yes. It took me the longest it had ever done to catch up with him - two years. He was sick and weary. When I found him, he fell on his knees and begged me to kill him. You see, he believed what his father said about him, that he was a monster that had to be destroyed."

"And did you?"

Darkhardt shook his head.

"Not then. I couldn't bring myself to do it. Though perhaps it would have been better if I had. His brain became twisted. He didn't have the courage to kill himself, and he didn't have the courage to make his way in life despite the odds against him. He began to believe it was his fate to be a demon, and that there was nothing he could do about it. He believed he was evil. And in the end, he had convinced himself so effectively that he became evil. When he gave me this scar, Remus, he had not transformed. He attacked me with his bare hands."

There was a silence before he added, "So you see I have every reason to hate werewolves."

Remus got up and turned his back on the teacher.

"Why are you telling me this?" he choked.

"Sit back down and I'll tell you."

"I'd rather stand."

"Remus ..."

The boy turned round, and his chin went up defiantly. Professor Darkhardt sighed.

"I just wanted you to know that I was very much opposed to your coming here and that I had very good reasons."

"Because you hated me simply for being a werewolf, even though you hadn't even met me and didn't know the first thing about me?"

"Yes."

"Well, thanks for telling me," Remus said bitterly. "I'll just go then, if you don't mind."

He turned to the door, but Darkhardt got up suddenly and gripped Remus firmly by both shoulders, looking piercingly into his eyes.

"You don't understand. Yes, I hated werewolves. Yes, I was convinced that all werewolves must necessarily be a menace to society, mere beasts to be slaughtered. Dumbledore was sure I was wrong, he said he'd met you, spoken to you, and you were quite different. I laughed at him. I told him it was no more possible to tame a werewolf than tell the moon to stop changing.

When I first met you, I was determined to prove my point - but I couldn't. You were everything he had said you were. And that gradually made me rethink my whole opinion of werewolves. Was I wrong all those years? Were not all werewolves necessarily vicious and dangerous characters?

I think about the many werewolves I killed over the years, and then I look at you and I wonder ... How many innocent lives did I destroy? How many good men and women did I kill? How many of those people really deserved to die? Were they all really like that kid ended up? Were any of them like him? Or were most of them perhaps more like you? Was that boy really to blame for what he had become? What right did I have to end his life? Would he have turned out all right, if only someone had shown him a little understanding?"

He released Remus and returned to his desk, his back towards the boy. His shoulders sagged and his voice when he spoke again was hoarse.

"Those questions have tormented me ever since I came to know you. I have carried this weight around with me now for seven years, and for a long time I was determined that you should never know - now that you do, I will understand if you want nothing more to do with me."

Remus hesitated, then he walked back to the chair and placed a hand on the backrest.

"I'm sure you only did what you thought was right, sir," he said.

Professor Darkhardt gave a snorting laugh and turned around.

"I wasn't looking for your sympathy, Remus," he said dryly. "God knows I don't deserve it. I was trying to show you that people can change their opinions. I can think of no one who hated werewolves more than I did, yet here I am, blaming myself for having done so and determined never to let prejudice misguide me again. We only hate and fear what we don't know, Remus. And I'm sure anyone who knows you would find the idea of fearing you ridiculous."

"Now you're talking about Heather." Remus frowned.

"Maybe. I'm not thinking of making you tell her the truth, or of persuading you. I just want you to consider that she, like me, only feels a revulsion she can't explain to something she doesn't fully understand. If she knew that the beast she fears can be hidden within someone like you, someone she considers a friend, even more than that - she may learn to overcome her fear. But it is your secret, and therefore the choice of whether to keep it or share it must be yours, too."

Remus thought on this for a moment.

"Yes, sir. Thank you for being honest with me. I - appreciate your concern."

Professor Darkhardt just nodded and watched Remus as he slowly left the room. He sat down in his chair and took out his gold pocket watch. Once upon a time he had carried a silver one, but he had destroyed that a while ago, together with everything else made of silver that he owned. He hated silver, hated it because of that set of shiny silver daggers he had once carried. He stared at the dial of the watch without seeing it. He didn't know what time it was, but it felt late.

He was weary, as always these days, and he felt old, much older than his years. He laid his head against the backrest of his chair and closed his eyes. Once again countless images of ferocious beasts with wide-open jaws, of jagged teeth and blood under the light of a full moon passed before his eyes in a never-ending stream, and the face of that poor, crazed boy screaming the words of a psalm while he charged towards the hunter, his fingers outstretched like claws ...

The Trouble With Sirius

A week later, Sirius stepped out into the first real sunshine of the year and breathed in deeply. After Double Potions in a cold and clammy dungeon, the crisp, fresh air was just what he needed. He heard the sound of girls' laughter and turned his head. Florence Fortescue and Gemma Crowe were walking across the lawn towards him with a group of friends, chatting animatedly.

"Oh, hello Sirius," they said when they reached him.

"Hi," he answered, and several of the younger girls in the group began to giggle, whispering among themselves.

"What's up with you friends?" Sirius asked Gemma and Florence while the other girls burst into another fit of irritating giggling.

"Oh, nothing," said Florence airily. "We were just talking about boys and ..." She shrugged her shoulders.

"Flossie was saying she thinks you're ever so good-looking," Gemma added. Florence punched her hard in the ribs.

"Oh, were you saying that?" Sirius asked, amused. Florence blushed furiously.

"She said the sound of your voice makes her feel all goose-pimply," one of the younger girls piped up.

"Will you shut up!" Florence shouted. The other girls giggled and Sirius laughed.

"We'd better all get to our lessons," Gemma said suddenly, checking her watch.

The others agreed. Sirius and Florence hurried off to the Charms classroom. Neither of them said a word, but Sirius was still grinning to himself. During the lesson, while everyone was busy banishing cushions and heavier objects, Sirius took the opportunity of sending a scrap of parchment soaring across the room. Her cheeks bright red, Florence picked it up and read what it said. Her cheeks went even redder. She glanced around her anxiously, then nodded at Sirius, who smiled back broadly. Sitting in the corner beside Damian, Bertha Jorkins watched them jealously and made up her mind to keep a close watch on Florence tonight.

Sure enough, as soon as she thought all the others were asleep, Florence slipped out of her pyjamas and put her clothes back on. Bertha pretended to be sleeping, but only a couple of seconds after the other girl had left, she got up herself, wrapped a thick cloak around her and sneaked out of the Hufflepuff dormitory and common room. She tiptoed along the hallways, following the muffled sound of Florence's footsteps. Through the entrance hall she followed like a shadow, and then she had to keep back a little.

There was too much open ground outside the castle. That had the disadvantage of making it risky to continue her pursuit, but also the advantage of exposing everyone else who walked there. The moon and the stars were bright tonight, and she could clearly see not only Florence, but another figure standing waiting for her. Bertha's heart gave a leap of jealous fury. Sirius Black, tall, handsome, delightfully roguish, was waiting for skinny little Florence Fortescue in the middle of the grounds on a crisp, starry night.

Bertha watched, fuming inside as she saw him take Florence's hand and lead her away towards the greenhouses. She waited until they were out of sight, then she dared to sneak across the grounds and approach the greenhouses herself. She heard murmuring voices as she drew near; Florence's voice was anxious yet eager, Sirius's low and coaxing, persuasive - not that Florence seemed to need much persuading.

"B-but I thought ... you and Aurora ..." she was saying. Sirius snorted.

"After what she did to me? No thank you. If there's one thing I can't stand, it's people poking around in my head."

"Sirius ..." Florence began, but she got no further.

Whatever she had been about to say became muffled. Bertha leaned forward to peer around the greenhouse and scowled deeply in the dark. Florence was in Sirius's arms and he was kissing her. Bertha trembled with rage. She turned away so suddenly that she knocked a plant pot flying with a clatter. Jumping nervously, she fled through the night just as Sirius came out to investigate.

Try as he might, Remus could not help missing the hours with Heather on Saturday mornings. He had told her he needed the time to study, and that was partly true, but he couldn't concentrate on his books this morning. He thought of what Professor Darkhardt had told him, and for about fifteen minutes sat picturing himself telling Heather the truth, imagining her saying she didn't care, watching her stop her next Boggart with ease ... then the picture shifted back to that day in the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, and his heart went cold again.

No, he could no more bring himself to tell her what he was than escape from the life he was trapped in. It was time he resigned himself to that fact and went on living, concentrating on the handful of friends that he had, the friends he knew would never leave him, doing all he could to show them that they could count on him, whatever happened, maybe somehow finding a way of redeeming himself by doing something for them, something that would make a difference somehow.

He stared around the library and felt a sudden urge to get out. Closing the book that lay open before him and gathering all his things into his bag, Remus went outside and made his way to the bench by the lake. But as he drew nearer he saw that there was already someone sitting there. He could see the back of an auburn head bent forward and was about to turn away again when he thought he heard an unhappy sniff. Miserable as he felt himself, somehow he couldn't bear to see someone else upset. So he walked straight over to the bench and, as Aurora looked up, he ignored the slight puffiness of her eyes and said brightly,

"Good morning. Do you mind if I join you? I've been trying to study since breakfast, but I just can't seem to concentrate."

"Of course you can join me," she said in an attempt to sound cheerful. "I think I've sat alone feeling sorry for myself long enough."

"Feeling sorry for yourself?" he enquired politely, sitting down.

"Yes. Silly, isn't it?"

"Well, for that I'd have to know why you're feeling sorry for yourself," he remarked, lowering his bag to the ground beside him.

"Yes, well - I doubt you'd understand."

"Perhaps not. Then again, I've experience with feeling sorry for myself too, so ... try me?"

Aurora studied him silently, as though trying to make up her mind whether he would laugh at her.

"Okay," she said at last. "It's because of Sirius."

She paused, waiting for Remus to show surprise, derision, or unwillingness to discuss his friend in this way. But he just nodded. Emboldened by this reaction, Aurora went on. Soon she was pouring her heart out to him, explaining how sorry she was for what she had accidentally done, how she knew that Sirius, with his pride, must have felt humiliated, how he hadn't spoken to her since and how miserable that made her. Remus sat beside her in silence, listening with a look of complete understanding on his face.

"I just don't know what to do, Remus," she finished.

"Have you tried talking to him?"

"Yes, but I never seem to catch him alone anymore, and he just ignores me when he's with others. I wouldn't even mind if he got mad at me, but I can't bear the silence."

"He has no reason to be mad at you. What happened wasn't your fault. You shouldn't blame yourself for it. I know it isn't easy not to but you must try to stop feeling guilty."

"Sirius blames me."

Remus glanced at her sideways. Her eyes were fixed hopefully on his face. He sighed deeply and went on in a very gentle voice.

"Aurora - Sirius knows, deep down, that you couldn't help it. He's not stupid. Yes, his pride was hurt, but that's no reason to hold a grudge like he's doing. I think ..."

He looked anxious, afraid to go on.

"Yes?"

"I think there's a struggle going on inside Sirius at the moment. Not so much about whether or not to forgive you, but ... He's restless."

"What are you saying? Do you mean that this is just an excuse on his part for staying away from me? Do you mean he doesn't ... he ...?"

She left the question unasked, but tears were filling her eyes.

"Aurora," Remus said softly, taking her hand in both of his, "I do believe Sirius cares about you. In fact, I'm sure he cares about you a lot. And that's the problem. You know him as well as I do, if not better. He's the best person to have by your side when you're faced with danger, but if there's one thing he shies away from, it's a relationship like he feels you will eventually want. He's afraid of ..."

"Sincerity," the girl finished with a sad smile. "Love is fine when it's just a game, but ask him to think of you while you're apart, to be with you and only you for over two years, threaten to love him for the rest of his life, and it scares him. He's like a trapped animal, he doesn't want to be tied down, he's eager to escape, any excuse will do."

Remus smiled.

"You read my mind."

"Yes, I confess I did," she admitted guiltily. Remus did not complain.

"What shall I do, Remus?"

"You're asking me? After what I made of my first ..." he hesitated. "My first romance," he ended hoarsely.

"Yes, I'm asking you. Because no one knows Sirius better than you do - except James. Because I know whatever advice you give will be well considered, not rash. And, frankly - because you're here and I have no one else to turn to."

"What about Lily?"

"Lily's no good at this sort of thing. She's nuts about James, and he's never hidden his feelings for her. She knows nothing of problems, nothing at all. And you ..."

"Yes?"

"I don't know. Somehow talking to you is different. You know what it's like ... to have problems."

"Oh yes, I know what problems are, all right," he agreed dryly.

"Please help me, Remus. Tell me what to do."

Finally he nodded.

"As I see it, you only have two options. One: hard as it may seem, forget Sirius and find someone else, someone more serious, since that's what you're looking for; two: take a chance that I'm right and he does care more than he'll admit - talk to him and force him to be open with you for once, one way or the other."

"You make it sound so easy. I have tried and failed before to get Sirius to be sincere, but still ... I feel I have to try again, just one more time. But how do I get him on his own?"

Remus smiled. "I have an idea."

James took Lily's hand as if it was the most natural thing in the world. He felt her fingers tremble slightly and smiled down at her. She smiled back, her green eyes aglow. She had meant to do some studying this morning, but when James had come up to her in the common room and asked if she'd like to go for a walk, she had somehow forgotten all about goblin rebellions and said yes. The sun was bright this morning.

"Which way would you like to go?" James asked.

"I don't mind, really. To the lake perhaps?"

They set off in that direction, but before long they spotted two people sitting on the bench there, their heads together, hands joined.

"Let's go the other way," said James, but Lily paused.

"James," she said, sounding puzzled. "That's Aurora and Remus."

"What? No, it can't be." James looked again, polished his glasses and blinked against the sunlight. He felt a queer jolt somewhere in the region of his stomach.

"Oh hell," he murmured, "Sirius is going to love this."

But Lily was shaking her head, looking confused.

"There has to be an explanation for this."

"Oh, there's an explanation all right. Remus is upset about Heather, Aurora's upset because Sirius has been angry with her for about a month now - I dread to think what he'll say when he finds out."

"Like he'd have a right to say anything," Lily muttered.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh come on, James! I know he's your best friend, but you can't deny he's always flirting with every girl he meets."

"So? He doesn't really care about them. Why shouldn't he?"

"Right, and in that case, why shouldn't Rory be sitting on a bench with Remus?"

"Holding hands?"

Lily shook her head. "I'm sure it's not how it looks. Rory's crazy about Sirius, and Remus would never ... I'll talk to her when I get a chance, and you can talk to Remus - promise me you'll talk to him before you tell Sirius."

"All right," James agreed grudgingly, allowing her to guide him away.

They strolled aimlessly about the grounds for a long time. It was almost midday when they stopped to sit down on a log and gazed out towards the castle. Only the Whomping Willow blocked the view, and Lily shuddered at the sight of it.

"What's the matter?" James asked.

"I don't know why they had to plant that horrible tree. It gives me the creeps."

"I think it's actually very valuable."

"Valuable? That thing? Did you hear it nearly took Davey Gudgeon's eye out?"

"Well, he did try to poke it, didn't he? You could say it was self defence on the tree's part."

Lily frowned. "You remember Fortuna Tripp?"

"Girl who fancied herself as the future Trelawney? Yes."

"Well, she told me the Whomping Willow's not as old as it looks, it was only planted the year we came here. Did you know that?"

"Yes, I knew," said James uncomfortably. "But let's not turn this into a Herbology lesson. Let's talk about something nicer."

Lily flashed her brilliantly green eyes at him.

"Like what?"

James cast around for a subject. "Uh ... Hogsmeade," he said.

"We've just had a Hogsmeade weekend."

"Ah, yes, but I'm not talking about Hogsmeade weekends. Tell me, Lily, have you ever seen Hogsmeade by night?"

"No!" she cried, appalled. "Of course I haven't. We're not allowed to leave the grounds at night, it's dangerous. The Forbidden Forest alone is full of unfriendly centaurs, I've heard, not to mention giant spiders and werewolves -"

"Only at the full moon," James pointed out without thinking.

The suddenness of his answer startled Lily.

"So," said James, eager to get off the topic of werewolves and full moons, "Will you come into Hogsmeade with me one night?"

"No!" Lily exclaimed, seeming horrified at the thought of straying so far beyond school rules.

James sighed. "Pity. You don't know what you're missing. The twinkling lights of the village, the starry sky, the caves ... You're interested in runes, aren't you?"

"Yes, how did you ..."

"Remus told me you're the best in the Study of Ancient Runes class."

Lily blushed.

"Anyway, there are some runes around those caves that you can only see by moonlight. And one particular one ... You'd have to see it to understand."

Lily looked tempted, but she shook her head. "It's not safe outside Hogwarts, especially not at night. I wouldn't leave the safety of these walls at night by choice ... and I really wish ..."

"Yes?"

"I wish you wouldn't, either."

James frowned. "You want to deny me my bit of adventure and fun?"

"No," said Lily, her green eyes reflecting the moonlight, "I just don't want anything to happen to you."

She said it quickly, shyly, and her words brought a smile to James's lips.

"How long have I known you now?" he said.

"Seven years, of course."

James nodded. "Seven years. I can still remember the first time you spoke, at our sorting. You said 'excuse me' and your eyes were the greenest thing I'd ever seen. Those eyes have followed me in my dreams ever since, Lily."

He paused, and Lily stared at him, her lips half-parted, feeling dry. James tried to go on talking, but he could think of nothing more to say. He leaned closer ...

"I wouldn't, if I were you, Potter," said a voice right beside them. Both of them whirled around. Severus Snape smiled down at them.

"Severus! You ..." James started to say, but Severus interrupted him.

"I just prevented you from collecting the biggest mouthful of disease you could possibly imagine. A mouthful of mudblood filth."

James was on his feet in a moment, his wand drawn, but so was Lily.

"James, don't," she begged.

"I suppose I shouldn't really be surprised at your choosing a mudblood for a girlfriend," Severus went on. "It fits in with your record, after all. Your choice of friends has always been poor. Creeps, vandals, half-br..."

He got no further. James had forgotten his wand. The arm Lily was still clutching hung loose at his side, but the other hand shot up and struck the taller boy squarely on the jaw. Severus wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth.

"Temper, temper, Potter," he said quietly.

Lily moved forward a fraction, standing in between the two boys.

"Your little mudblood girlfriend seems to be afraid for your life, Potter," Severus said. "I wonder if she would be just as worried for you if she knew you and your friends were once perfectly willing to end mine. Maybe I should tell her about our nighttime adventure ..."

"Maybe you should go, now, before I really do lose my temper," James said through clenched teeth.

Severus smiled once more, turned on his heel and strode away across the lawn. James tucked his wand away again. Lily was watching him with a look of deep concern on her face. He cast around for something to say, but could think of nothing.

"Shall we go back to the castle?" Lily suggested.

James agreed and they walked back in silence, James feeling extremely grateful that Lily wasn't asking any questions about what Severus had said.

Bertha Interferes

Remus and Aurora had chosen Monday lunch break for the execution of Remus's plan. Tucking his bag under his arm after Defence Against the Dark Arts, he cleared his throat and hurried to catch up with Sirius, who was first out the door.

"Err - Sirius?" he began.

"Yes, what's up?" Sirius asked, flashing a casual smile at a passing third-year Hufflepuff and sending her and her friends into a fit of giggles.

"I want to talk to you," Remus said.

Sirius looked surprised. "Okay, go ahead."

"No, not here. It's - a bit private."

The puzzled crease on Sirius's brow deepened.

"Let's go down here," Remus suggested undaunted, leading the way down the main staircase and along an empty passage, Sirius trooping along behind him, intrigued. They rounded a corner, and Sirius stopped dead. Aurora was standing there, clearly waiting.

"What's going on?" Sirius demanded.

"I'll see you later," said Remus, turning to go.

"No, you won't, because I'm coming for some lunch," Sirius said.

Remus placed a hand on his friend's chest to stop him.

"She wants to talk to you, Sirius. Just listen, will you?"

Sirius scowled, but at last he nodded moodily. Remus shot an encouraging smile at Aurora and hurried away. Sirius turned his scowling face to the girl.

"Well, get on with it," he said after a long, uncomfortable pause.

"Sirius," she began, secretly cursing her voice for sounding so weak. "Look, about the other week ... what I did ... I'm sorry," she stammered, and then the words began pouring out like a waterfall.

"I didn't mean that to happen, I don't know how it did. I didn't know I was that strong. If I had known I'd have been more careful, I'd never have let that happen. I never wanted to hurt you, Sirius, or humiliate you like that in front of everyone. It was just an accident, I couldn't help it, and I've been so miserable ever since because you haven't talked to me, you've been avoiding me and I ... I miss you. I just had to talk to you, to explain, and you mustn't blame Remus, he found me crying by the lake on Saturday and he's only trying to help and ..."

She paused for breath, not even realising that the frown had faded slightly from Sirius's face already.

"I know you hate me now, and I can't bear it," Aurora went on.

But Sirius smiled.

"Don't be silly, gorgeous. Of course I was cross, but you know me. It never lasts. I forgive you."

Aurora gulped, half-startled by this sudden change in his mood.

"You - you do?"

"Of course," he said brightly.

Aurora stared. "I ... don't know what to say."

"Well, that makes a change, you were going pretty well just then. Something about having missed me, wasn't it?"

The girl smiled. "Yes, though I can't think why I did, you brute!"

"Brute?"

"Making me think you were going to hate me for the rest of your life or something. That wasn't fair! You know how much I ..."

"Go on," Sirius said teasingly. "How much you - what? Love me, need me, adore me? Don't they all?" he joked.

"You are impossibly arrogant sometimes, do you know that," Aurora laughed. "You act like any girl would have you if you just snipped your fingers for her."

Sirius grinned broadly and raised his hand. "What, like this?" He snipped his fingers. "Here, Rory."

Aurora stepped closer, still smiling, and Sirius took her in his arms and kissed her more warmly and affectionately than he had ever done.

"You know, gorgeous, you really are the only girl for me," he whispered. "I couldn't hold any other girl like this."

Aurora felt his breath against her cheek and closed her eyes. For a wonderful moment, she thought she had finally achieved it - for once, Sirius was being sincere, and she found she liked him even better this way. He kissed her again, but at that moment someone else appeared, poking a round face around the corner of the wall at them.

"Oh, hello," said Bertha Jorkins so loudly and suddenly that Sirius pushed Aurora back rather roughly. "Well, well, Sirius, I must say I am disappointed in you. You chop and change rather quickly don't you?"

"Go away, Bertha," he said carelessly.

"Go away? Oh no, I don't think so," she went on, her voice as sweet as honey. "I think I ought to tell dear Aurora here a little story first."

"What are you talking about?" Sirius demanded impatiently.

Bertha shrugged. "I just thought she might be interested to know that I took a little stroll last Thursday night. I couldn't sleep, you see, so I thought I'd take a walk around the greenhouses ..."

"Ah, that was good," James sighed, flopping on his bed after lunch.

Remus smiled, leaning back on his pillow.

"Yes. Just makes me feel like staying right here for the rest of the day rather than doing Potions this afternoon," he agreed.

James nodded, and an awkward silence followed. James knew what made it awkward, too. He had been avoiding having a talk with Remus ever since he had promised Lily he would do so, and the knowledge that he must broach the subject sooner or later weighed heavily on his mind. He decided now was the time to talk, since they were alone.

"Look," he said, "I've got something to say, and I hope you're not going to be offended or feel I'm intruding or anything."

"Why should I feel that?"

"Well, it's a bit difficult to say this, but ..." He took a deep breath. "Listen, Lily and I saw you and Aurora by the lake on Saturday," James finished, as if that concluded everything. But Remus just looked back at him blankly.

"Oh yes?" he said.

James was stupefied. He wasn't sure what he had expected - a guilty look, defiance, hurt - but certainly not this apparent indifference to having been found out.

"Well," James went on hesitantly, "It was just - I was a bit - surprised. I mean, there's you, you've only just given up Heather ..."

Remus's face clouded over slightly, but he said nothing.

"And there's Aurora. I know Sirius jokes a lot and likes to look at other girls and that, but ... you know, I think he really does care about her, and I always thought that she ... Anyway, I never would have expected you and her to ... you know."

Remus frowned at him for a moment, then at last he seemed to understand what his friend was saying, and suddenly he laughed. James stared.

"I'm sorry," Remus said, muffling his laughter behind his hand. "But you should see the look on your face. You look so serious, Prongs, you'd think someone had died. But don't worry, everything's fine. Aurora and I were just talking, that's all. I know that sounds like a poor excuse, but it's the truth. I went down to the lake to study, I found her there, she was upset about Sirius, and I was trying to comfort her. You can ask her yourself, if you like - unless that's Lily's job, of course," he guessed accurately. "Aurora's downstairs with Sirius now, being happily reunited, if my plan's worked."

"Plan?" James asked, stunned.

"I told Sirius I wanted to talk to him privately so I could lure him to a quiet corner and leave him on his own with Aurora so she can make him listen to her apology and they can make it up."

"Oh," said James. He sighed with relief and smiled. "Moony, I'm sorry. I should have known you wouldn't start going out with a girl one of your best friends is that fond of. Forgive me?"

"Of course," Remus smiled, leaning forward. "So, what were you and Lily doing by the lake?"

James was about to start telling Remus what had happened that Saturday when the dormitory door was flung open roughly and Sirius strode in like a storm cloud.

"Just thought I'd let you know I'm not coming to lessons this afternoon. I'm going for a walk," he announced. "Oh, and Moony, you may be interested to know your bright idea didn't work."

"What do you mean? What happened?" Remus asked anxiously.

"Bertha Jorkins, that's what," Sirius said savagely. "She stepped in right when we were ... well, anyway, she told Aurora about Thursday night."

Remus glanced at James, who shrugged.

"What about Thursday night?" Remus asked.

"Florence Fortescue," Sirius growled. "Bertha saw me kissing her behind the greenhouses."

"Oh no," James groaned. "You didn't!"

"Yep. Anyway, Bertha won't be able to talk at all for about a week now. Reckon it'll take Pomphrey that long to stop her teeth from chattering. I'm going for a walk," Sirius repeated, and he marched off again, slamming the door shut behind him.

James looked across at Remus, who had buried his face in his hands.

"It's not your fault, Moony," he said gently. "You did your best. And maybe she'll come round again, if Sirius has the sense not to go running after the next girl straight away."

"I've got to talk to her," Remus said abruptly, getting to his feet.

"But Remus, it's Potions in ten minutes."

"Save me a seat," Remus asked, heading out the door.

Aurora kicked at a stone she could barely see and sent it plunging into the lake with a splash. Something stirred under the black surface, but she neither knew nor cared. She felt humiliated and betrayed, but what was worse was that she felt jealous. She had always been determined never to feel jealous of anyone for any reason, and especially where Sirius was concerned. Hadn't she always known that he was the sort who would take a long time before he settled down, if he ever did? Hadn't she seen him, often enough, exchanging fleeting glances with other girls when she herself was standing just a few feet away?

But then, glances were somewhat different from this. Although she hated herself for it, she pictured Sirius and Florence behind the greenhouses over and over again, and she felt a most unfair hatred of Florence building up inside her. She wanted to scream, but couldn't. Such a short while ago, she had been prepared to put up with anything to have Sirius back again. Now she felt like she never wanted to see him again. She heard hasty footsteps coming her way across the soft lawn, and she looked up and saw someone coming towards her. It was Remus.

"Aurora," he said, drawing level with her. He looked hurt. "I just saw Sirius. I'm sorry."

She began to nod, but the tears she had suppressed so far just started pouring out and before she knew it, Remus was holding her in his arms and the shoulder of his robes was becoming soaked. When she had calmed down a little, he led her to the bench and they sat down.

"I know it hurts," he said softly. "But you know what Sirius is like. What happened between him and Florence is really nothing serious. It's just his restlessness, it didn't mean anything."

Aurora gave an unhappy sort of snorting laugh and looked at him through a haze of tears.

"No, it didn't mean anything. Nothing ever means anything with Sirius. It's all just a game with him, isn't it? A smile doesn't mean anything, a kiss doesn't mean anything, and I mean even less ..."

"That's not true, and you know it. Sirius is fuming now because he knows he's made a mistake. He knows he'll never find another girl like you."

Aurora shook her head.

"It's no good, Remus. Even if you're right, it only means he'll go and find some other girl to help him drown his sorrows, doesn't it?"

"It might," Remus admitted. "Unless you get in first and forgive him this one mistake."

"I can't, Remus. I wish I could. But when I think of Sirius now, I always see him and Florence ... and then I picture him, if we did manage to make it up, feeling trapped, chained to me ... and it's almost worse than the thought of letting him go. Almost."

"Give it another try," Remus said pleadingly.

"No," Aurora sighed. "I've had enough. It's not just the way he so easily gets offended, or the way he flirts with other girls - he's just too restless, and I feel that, with things in the world the way they are, I want someone steadier, someone reliable. Someone - someone who's good for me."

"Sirius can be that. He's not easy, I know, but he's a good person, really. You two seemed so perfect. No one understands him like you do."

"No, they don't, and I think that sometimes scared him," she said quietly. "But it's no good, Remus. We all make choices that other people may think are mistakes. Maybe in time I'll find that this was a mistake, that I'm letting my pride ruin the rest of my life. And maybe I will find someone else, someone who can give me the sincerity I've always wanted from Sirius."

She smiled suddenly.

"You wouldn't be free, by any chance, would you?"

Remus studied her, unsure whether she was serious or not.

"If I didn't know that, deep down, it's still Sirius you want, I might be tempted. And if I hadn't just recently made up my mind that I'm better off without girls and they're better off without me."

Aurora's smile widened.

"You see, I told you we are all entitled to make foolish decisions. Perhaps one day we'll both find out we were wrong." She sighed, and the smile faded as quickly as it had appeared. "But until then, you're right of course. Deep down, I do want Sirius. But the thing is I have this perfect image in my mind of what I want him to be like, and I can't force him into that mould. This morning, for a moment I thought I had, but ... I don't think I'd really like him anymore if I could. Does that sound very silly?"

"Not at all," said Remus, and Aurora sighed again. Blinking against the afternoon sunlight, she lay back comfortably against his arm and gazed at the sky.

"You have Potions now, don't you?"

"Yes."

"You're late."

"So are you."

"Yes," she said carelessly. "I suppose I am."

The Truth About James

Throughout the next months, Sirius and Aurora's friends kept trying to persuade them both to give it another try, but it seemed that, without ever having discussed the matter between them, they had both come to the decision that it was easier not to risk it. So Sirius remained stubbornly single - if going from one girl to the next nearly every other week could be classed as being single - while Aurora avoided the society he kept and spent more and more time indoors, playing wizard chess with some of the younger students and often going to the library to study.

Actually, it was only the library and the increased need everyone felt to devote more and more time to their studies that made her talk to Sirius again at all. By the time their N.E.W.T.s were drawing close, they were almost on normal speaking terms again, and actually managed to sit together quite pleasantly at the same table comparing notes and discussing Potions.

A week before the exams were due to take place, everyone was in a state of heightened tension, and they practically had to be ordered out of the school on the last Hogsmeade weekend by their teachers and Madam Pomphrey, who insisted that a bit of fresh air and a day out would clear their heads and make studying that much easier. Many of the seventh-years refused, but some followed the eager horde of chattering younger students, most taking their books out of the school with them so they could continue reading in Hogsmeade.

In the Three Broomsticks, Remus ordered two butterbeers, paid and thanked Madam Rosmerta, then carried them across to a table by the window. Peter Pettigrew looked up from a sheet of parchment and a thick book.

"Here," said Remus, holding out a mug.

Peter thanked him and took a large gulp.

"Thanks for offering to help me, Remus," he murmured as Remus pulled the book across and pored over it.

"Don't thank me too soon," said Remus, his brow furrowed. "I warned you I'm not much good at Potions myself."

"You're better than me."

Remus refrained from saying that that was not much of an achievement.

"Dad's going to kill me if I don't pass my N.E.W.T.s," Peter added.

Remus's frown deepened. "I don't know why you had to pick such a difficult subject in the first place."

"You know Dad wants someone to join the family business. Pippa wasn't interested, and Polly ... well. So that only leaves me."

"Doing something you hate just because you don't want to upset your dad."

Peter shot him a piteous glance.

"I know you must despise me, Remus, but I just don't have your courage. I never could stand up to my parents. In any case, I wouldn't know what else to do."

Remus gazed at him earnestly. "Of course I don't despise you, don't be ridiculous. I just think ..."

He was interrupted by a scream in the street, and the door of the Three Broomsticks being flung wide and Mary Crimple bursting in, shaking with fear. Confusion reigned for a moment while the handful of mostly third-year students in the pub and Madam Rosmerta grouped around her, trying to find out what was the matter. Remus wound his way to the front of the crowd and managed to silence the others, who were all talking at once.

"Now, Mary," he said, turning to the girl calmly.

She clutched him by the shoulder of his robes, her eyes wide with terror.

"Remus, they ... they're ... I never realised they were that bad. Just practising against thin air with Professor Darkhardt is one thing, but ... oh, Remus, they're horrible."

He opened his mouth to ask what she was talking about, but suddenly he shivered as though someone had blown on his face with ice cold breath. A hush fell on the assembled crowd. Remus felt cold and miserable. It was like all the happiness he had ever felt was draining away. He felt Mary tremble, felt Peter come up beside him. A towering shadow fell across the curtained door and there was a rattling sound that sent shivers down his spine. Something was sucking the air around it.

"What is it?" Peter whispered.

"Dementors," Remus hissed back.

Someone gasped. Mary sank lower as her knees threatened to give way. Remus pulled her back up and pushed her into the arms of Stephen Ross.

"Get out," he whispered hastily, drawing his wand. "Out the back door, go on. Peter, take them to the well."

"But ... Remus," Peter stammered even as the door began to open.

"Do as I say," Remus insisted. "Go, now, all of you!"

Stricken with what they feared was about to happen, the others did as he said just as the door burst open and the first Dementor stepped in. Remus clasped his wand firmly and thought hard of the moment, so far back now, when his friends had told him they would learn to become Animagi for him.

"Expecto Patronum!" he shouted, and a puff of silver smoke shot out of the end of his wand.

The Dementor stumbled backwards, back through the door, pushed by Remus's Patronus, feeble though it was. Behind him, Remus could hear shouts and scraping noises as everyone scrambled to the back door. For a brief moment he considered following them, but then the shadow of the Dementor loomed again. He had to stop it, or they would not escape.

With new resolve he stepped up to the door and pulled it open, he marched out into the sunlight and saw no less than five Dementors bearing down on him, seemingly angered by the fact that he had repelled the first attack.

"Expecto Patronum!"

The silver smoke reappeared, throwing back the first Dementor. Whether it was the same one as before, Remus never knew. What he did know was that his Patronus was too weak to take them all on. He felt cold, deathly cold. The happy thought he was trying to cling to was evaporating. However hard he tried to recapture it, or to concentrate on other happy moments of his life - being told he could go to Hogwarts, his father telling him he loved him - they all slipped away and he was plunged into a sea of nightmare images instead. Himself, a young and skinny boy, enduring agony as he transformed into a werewolf ... changing back into his human form to discover he had killed his mother's cat ... more agony, more transformations, more horrors, more scars that would never go away completely ... his father rowing with his grandmother and banning her from ever entering their house again ...

Remus felt something hard hit his knees and discovered to his horror that it was the floor of the main road in Hogsmeade. He had dropped to the ground, he was falling. A scabbed, decaying hand reached out and gripped his neck while several more black shapes loomed closer, blotting out the sun.

He heard the rattling breath of his attackers growing louder and louder, drowning out every other sound. This was it, this was the end. It had been a troubled life, but short. As he felt the last of his strength leave his muscles, as the cold swept over him like a deluge of freezing waves, Remus thought of his mother. Her tender brown eyes, her sweet face. Soon he would no longer know her, but she would still be able to see him. She would come to him, to look at the son she loved and see nothing but an empty shell looking back at her, a body without mind, a still-breathing carcass without spirit or heart. He closed his eyes and shivered. Somewhere in the blackness beyond, a rough voice shouted words that he thought he recognised, but somehow he could not grasp their meaning.

"Expecto Patronum!"

Remus forced his eyes open a fraction to see a huge, silver bird swoop down towards him. Its beak pierced the Dementor nearest him and Remus fell flat on his back. The sun was coming back again, the shadows that had blocked it from view were withdrawing rapidly, fleeing the soaring silver eagle as fast as they could. A pair of strong arms reached down and dragged Remus to his feet.

"Lupin! Come on, lad, talk to me, are you all right?" Professor Darkhardt asked anxiously.

Some of the cold drained from his veins, the miserable images grew paler. Remus nodded.

"Yes, I ... I think I'm fine."

The gruff old man heaved a sigh of undisguised relief. Remus looked up and attempted to smile back meekly, though his knees felt like they might give way again at any moment, but then he froze once more.

"Professor!" he exclaimed, pointing beyond Darkhardt's shoulder.

The teacher spun round. Several more black shapes were moving their way, a whole line of them. But these were not Dementors, for with their approach came no sense of misery and cold. They were humans, witches and wizards dressed in long, black cloaks with masks pulled over their faces and slits that allowed them to see and speak.

Remus was only vaguely aware that several more students had stepped out of houses all around him and many of them were screaming, that Darkhardt shouted at them to run back to Hogwarts and they turned and fled wildly up the street and away. All Remus's attention was fixed on those shapes, these people that were slowly drawing nearer and nearer to him and his teacher.

One of them seemed to be keeping his eyes fixed on Remus. They were filled with loathing and it seemed to him that there was something familiar about the way that one walked, the long, sweeping strides. He recalled a boy, tall and fair, handsome but arrogant ... could it be ... Lucius Malfoy?

"Lupin," Professor Darkhardt said quietly, "I want you to leave this to me. The Dementors have weakened you, you don't stand a chance against this lot ... go on, now, you follow the others and go back to the castle."

"But sir, you can't possibly fight them all off alone ..."

"Go!" Professor Darkhardt said firmly. "There's nothing you can do here! Go back to the castle!"

"Sir ...," Remus still protested.

"Please, run!" Darkhardt insisted. "Get James back to Dumbledore. You've got to make sure James is safe, do you hear me?!"

"James? But ..."

"Just do it, will you?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good."

Remus hesitated briefly, then he turned to go, but the professor caught him by the arm and looked him in the eye.

"It's not what you are that matters, Remus," he said. "It's who you are. Never forget that."

"No, sir," Remus replied uncertainly.

Amidst the fear and panic, Professor Darkhardt smiled suddenly.

"Good lad. Now go, Remus ... go!"

And with that, he pushed Remus away from him and began walking towards the black-cloaked figures moving up the street.

Sirius was in Zonko's when he heard the commotion outside. People were running and screaming out there. Like many of the other students in the shop, he dropped what he was holding and strode to the door. He grabbed hold of a girl who came running past him and urgently asked her what was going on.

"Death Eaters," a boy near them panted. "Death Eaters, here in Hogsmeade. They're coming up the street!"

"No!"

Sirius released the girl and she ran on. Many of the students standing around Sirius now began joining the group that were running away too.

"Wait!" Sirius shouted, grabbing two of them by their sleeves. "You can't run all the way back to Hogwarts like this, the Death Eaters are bound to catch up with you before you're halfway there."

"What do you suggest we do, then?" someone asked. "Wait here for them to come and get us?"

"No," said Sirius, coming to a decision. "Follow me, I know a quicker way."

No one protested as he led them away from the main road to an old well that stood back a little, hidden behind the houses of Hogsmeade. He found Peter already there, together with Mary Crimple, Stephen Ross and the others that had been in the Three Broomsticks. James came running up from the direction of the Shrieking Shack, pulling Lily along by the hand. Right behind them came Aurora, Damian, Bertha and Eugene, trying to count the amount of younger students that had followed them obediently out of Honeydukes when they had heard the news of the Death Eaters' arrival from a terrified second-year Hufflepuff. Sirius spoke up.

"Right, now listen, everyone. You have to climb down this well-shaft until you're just above the surface of the water. Don't worry, it's quite safe. You'll find a hole down there. Climb through and just follow the tunnel, and you'll come out right back inside Hogwarts," he said to the group, then he turned to Peter.

"You'd better go on ahead and show them the way. Damian, you go too."

"All right," they said in unison, at once doing as he suggested.

Frank came running up.

"Any students left in the shops?" James asked.

"No, I think they're all here," Frank panted. "But ..."

He had to pause to catch his breath.

"What?" Sirius demanded impatiently, but James was already looking round him.

"Where's Remus?" he asked Peter. "Weren't you two supposed to be studying together today?"

"We were," Peter stammered, "but then Mary came and warned us there were Dementors outside, and Remus stayed behind to cover us while ..."

"You left him behind on his own?!" Sirius shouted incredulously while Lily let out a frightened squeak.

"That's - what I wanted - to tell you," Frank said breathlessly. "I think I saw Remus. As I was checking the side streets, I saw someone back down there with Darkhardt." He pointed back over his shoulder.

The others turned pale.

"Oh no," Aurora gasped quietly.

"You follow Peter and Damian," James told the girls. "Go behind the younger students and make sure they all get back safely. Quickly, before the Death Eaters see where you're going."

"No, I'm coming with you," Aurora insisted.

James opened his mouth to protest, but she was obviously determined. He turned and clapped Sirius on the shoulder.

"Let's go."

Sirius nodded, and he, Aurora and Frank set off in the direction where Frank had last seen their friend, but James found himself restrained by a trembling hand on his arm. Lily looked up at him anxiously.

"James you - you will be careful, won't you?"

He smiled and squeezed her hand.

"Of course."

Darkhardt's push had almost sent Remus to the floor. He swayed, but didn't fall. Turning back, his breath coming in quick gasps and the cold still lingering, he saw those hideous shapes coming ever nearer and felt a wave of terror. What should he do? He couldn't just leave the professor here and go, but he didn't see that he could do much to help his teacher fight these powerful witches and wizards either. And then there were the Dementors. They had drawn back for now, but with the professor so hopelessly outnumbered, it could not be long before they returned.

Then he heard the sound of running feet far behind him, and saw Sirius and Frank coming his way, closely followed by Aurora and James. Suddenly, all doubt had gone from his mind. He might not be able to save Darkhardt, but he could do what the professor had told him to, as a final favour to a man he knew he would likely never speak to again. He stumbled towards the others as fast as he could, and immediately grabbed James by the arm.

"Get away from here!" he panted, tugging James back the way the others had come.

"Remus, what are you doing?" James objected. "Darkhardt ..."

"We can't help him," Remus retorted urgently. "Come on, let's go!"

"What the ... Remus, what's got into you?" James asked.

"You've got to get back to the castle, now! Sirius, Frank, Aurora - help me!" Remus begged, swaying dangerously and still shivering from the Dementor attack.

Frank grabbed him by the collar to keep him on his feet. He looked from Sirius to Aurora, and without knowing why, they suddenly found themselves obeying Remus. Sirius dragged the reluctant James back the way they had come and the others followed, Remus stumbling as he ran. Frank looked back over his shoulder. A few witches and wizards were pouring out of the houses of Hogsmeade now to stand with Professor Darkhardt, but the Death Eaters still greatly outnumbered them. One of them raised his wand and aimed a curse at the retreating students.

"Get down!" Frank yelled, giving Remus a shove, dragging Aurora to the floor and flattening himself on top of her.

A second spell disarmed the Death Eater, and Frank pulled Aurora back to her feet. They each took hold of one of Remus's arms, and half-carried him back to the well, where Remus urged them all to climb in quickly - James first.

When they clambered out of the tunnel behind a very rusty suit of armour on the third floor, Professor McGonagall was standing there, waiting for them, her face ashen.

"There you are," she murmured, helping them out of the hole one by one.

"Where have you been, for heaven's sake? Everyone's been so worried about you!"

She unnecessarily brushed a speck of dust off Sirius's shoulder, causing him to eye her with suspicion.

"Where are the others?" Frank asked, still hovering by Remus's elbow in case he stumbled again.

"They're down in the Great Hall," she replied. "Come, Professor Dumbledore will be anxious to see you all."

They followed her down the stairs. When they entered the Great Hall, a crowd of students surged towards them. Professor Dumbledore managed to calm them down and came forward, flanked by Peter and Damian.

"Frank, Aurora, Sirius, Remus, ... James. I'm glad to see you're all well," the headmaster said.

"Yes sir," James said. "We're fine. But Professor Darkhardt ..."

"I know," Dumbledore interrupted him. "Miss Evans told me that you had gone back to help him."

"Well, we did," Frank answered quickly, "but ..."

The others all looked at Remus.

"There was nothing we could do," he said uncomfortably, finally breathing more evenly, though he was still shaking. "And Professor Darkhardt himself told me ..."

"Yes?" the professor encouraged him.

Remus glanced at James, and at once Dumbledore nodded.

"Yes. Yes, I see," he murmured. "He told you to get James back to safety."

James shifted uncomfortably under the gaze of his friends and the two teachers.

"I would rather have stayed to help the professor," he said.

"Of course," said Professor Dumbledore. "But Professor Darkhardt knew what he was doing. And Remus, you did well to heed his words. He was right, there was nothing you could have done. Sadly, I could not help him either. I will go down to Hogsmeade directly, of course, but naturally it will be too late. We had to secure the school first - nevertheless, it would have been too late, I fear, even if I had gone there the moment I heard what was happening."

"Why did Narbus stay?" Professor McGonagall whispered. "There was little he could do against such overwhelming odds. He could have come straight back with the students."

"Perhaps he hoped he would be able to buy them a little extra time to escape," the headmaster answered. "And perhaps there were other reasons as well that we shall never fully understand."

He shot a glance at Remus, who nodded slowly.

"Minerva," Dumbledore went on, "get the prefects to take the students back to their common rooms. No one is to leave them tonight. Boys - you, I think, had best wait for me in my office. Yes, Aurora, you may come too. Professor McGonagall will take you there. I promise I shan't be long. Oh, and James ..."

"Yes, sir?"

"I think you should take a moment to assure Miss Evans you are quite well before you go upstairs. She has been very worried about you. Perhaps she would also like to come along to my office."

Professor McGonagall took them to the headmaster's office and left, though she returned moments later with a large slab of chocolate and stood watching Remus until he had eaten it all up. It seemed like an age before Professor Dumbledore finally joined them. His light blue eyes were dim with sorrow, and he took his time walking over to his chair and sitting down. He studied all the boys carefully, and his eyes settled on Remus, who looked very pale, standing by the window and gazing out into the night. Remus seemed to feel that he was being watched, because he turned around and looked at his friends, the headmaster and Professor McGonagall. At last he forced a smile.

"What did I do, break someone's favourite cauldron or something?" he asked wryly.

"Remus," Professor Dumbledore began in a soothing voice, "I understand that out of all the students here, you were probably closest to Professor Darkhardt."

"He was my friend," Remus blurted out, his voice catching. "Even though ..."

"Even though you knew the truth about him. Yes, he said he had told you about that. But our grief will have to wait for now. There are more urgent things to think about."

Remus nodded. James started towards him, but Remus waved him back.

"It's okay, James," he said, blinking furiously. "I'm all right. As long as ... Professor, could I ask you something?"

"Of course, Remus," Dumbledore replied.

"It's about Professor Darkhardt. He is - dead, isn't he?"

The others stared at him, looking a trifle confused, but Dumbledore's bright blue eyes showed understanding. He nodded.

Remus sighed. "Good."

"Good?" Peter stammered. "But Remus, you just said he was your friend. How can him being dead be good?"

"Peter, don't," James interrupted.

Dumbledore fixed Peter with a penetrating gaze.

"There are worse things than death when Dementors are involved," he said gently.

Peter still looked blank.

"For god's sake, Peter, you are thick sometimes!" Sirius exploded. "The Dementor's Kiss ..."

"Oh!" Peter exclaimed, shuddering. "That."

He glanced nervously at Remus, but he had turned back towards the window.

"Professor Dumbledore," James began. "Why did Professor Darkhardt tell Remus to bring me back here? I mean, I could have understood if he'd just wanted to send Remus back to safety, but why say that about me?"

"Yes," Sirius agreed. "Why James?"

Dumbledore sighed heavily.

"Sit down," he said, as more chairs appeared opposite his desk.

James, Sirius, Peter, Lily and Frank took their seats, but McGonagall and Aurora remained standing, and Remus stayed by the window.

"The reason Professor Darkhardt said what he did," Dumbledore said slowly, "was because he knew that it was imperative that no harm should come to you."

"But why?" James asked, running a hand through his hair so that it stuck out even more haphazardly than usual. "Why should he want to protect me, of all people? Remus has always been his favourite."

"It had nothing to do with favouritism, I assure you," the headmaster continued. "It was because of who you are."

James frowned. "Because I'm a Death Eater's son? That doesn't make sense, sir."

A small smile flickered on Dumbledore's face.

"No," he said, "this has nothing to do with your father. It has, however, everything to do with your mother."

"My mother?"

"Yes. I have been wrestling with myself for some time, debating whether I should tell you this, or keep you in the dark as she requested."

"Why would she do that?"

"To protect you, James."

"From what?"

It was Professor McGonagall who answered.

"Basically - from the truth," she said.

James fell silent, puzzling. Why should his mother want to protect him from the truth? That didn't make sense.

"But that's stupid," Sirius said sharply. "Professor Darkhardt's always taught us that it's better to face the truth and be prepared for the worst than let it take you by surprise."

"I know," Dumbledore agreed, "and I have been trying to persuade your mother, James, to take that view - with the help of Remus's father."

Remus looked up, a mildly questioning look on his face.

"Oh yes," the headmaster continued. "Ever since that night when a 'mysterious stranger' came to call on Bridget at your house, we have been trying to persuade Bridget to tell James who he is. And now, I no longer have to feel guilty for telling you, James, because you have stumbled across the fact that there is something special about you yourself, and naturally you want to know what it is."

James returned his stare steadily and nodded. Leaning back in his chair, Dumbledore placed the tips of his fingers together and half-closed his eyes.

"It has to do with Professor Trelawney's prediction," he announced.

"The prediction?" said Sirius, intrigued. "What, that night when she scared half the school by going all peculiar on her way to the Great Hall? But that was just a load of phooey. We tried to find out more, and for a while it seemed like there might be something in it, but Remus couldn't find any books and nor could Lily - there was no way we could discover anything about any heirs of Gryffindor that might still be alive ..."

He broke off. While listening to him, Dumbledore's eyes had never left James's face. Sirius turned his head and saw that James had gone a shade paler than usual. His hazel eyes flickered strangely.

"No," he said quietly. "But that's not possible. It can't be."

"Why not?" Dumbledore asked simply, as though reasoning with a small child. "Why can't it be possible? What do you know - really know - about your mother?"

"Her name is Bridget Potter, and she married Vindictus Lothian when she was very young," James said with a hint of defiance. "She told me that. She also admitted it was a mistake. He was already in with Voldemort at the time, and she grew scared and left him before he ever knew she was expecting me. She never saw him again until the day of the attack in Diagon Alley."

"True," said Dumbledore, "but for one detail. Your mother's name is not Bridget Potter. Nor was it ever that. Think, James. Professor Darkhardt once told me that he had caught you and your friends in Filch's office, searching for information about your father and Tom Riddle. While you were there, you discovered something else, didn't you? Something you asked Professor Darkhardt about ..."

Realisation seemed to dawn on James's face. "Yes," he said very slowly. "I had looked into the file cabinet where my mother's name should have been, but it wasn't there. Professor Darkhardt said he supposed he must have known her when she was a girl at Hogwarts, but he wouldn't say more. He seemed to guess something though."

The headmaster nodded his wise old head.

"Oh yes, he guessed, and his guess was correct. The reason your mother's name was not there was because you were looking in the wrong place. Potter was not her maiden name, it was your grandmother's: Greta Potter. You should have looked not under 'P' for 'Potter', but under ..."

"... 'G' for 'Gryffindor'," Lily finished in a hushed whisper.

James glanced at her, then turned his head to look up at the Sorting Hat, lying high up on a shelf behind him. What had it said on his very first day here at school?

*Your mother sat on this very stool, and I had no doubts when I put her in Gryffindor. It was in the blood she had inherited from her father.*

He had been so stupid. The signs had all been there. Even when Trelawney had made that ridiculous prediction. Hadn't she been looking straight at him? How could he have been blind enough not to see it? He looked around at the faces of his friends. Frank was staring at him open-mouthed. Lily was gazing fixedly at her hands. Aurora was biting her lip. Peter's eyes were boggling. Sirius looked stupefied. Remus just looked thoughtful. Their eyes connected, and Remus inclined his head just slightly.

"Of course," he said in a quiet, steady voice. "All that time we were trying to find out who the prediction referred to, the answer was staring us in the face. It was you."

Sirius came out of his stupor with a jolt.

"So that's what Darkhardt meant tonight. Why James had to get to safety. The Death Eaters were there for him."

"No," Dumbledore contradicted. "No, they couldn't have known. Even James's own father doesn't know he exists - yet. Their attack was as random an act of terror as any. But Professor Darkhardt was afraid that they would kill James without even knowing who he was. And that would mean that we may have lost our only hope of defeating Voldemort. Because we don't know which member of the family that prediction referred to."

"You mean it could mean me, but it could also mean my mother?"

"Yes. Or neither of you."

James looked a question.

"It could have meant some future heir of Gryffindor who has not been born yet - your child, perhaps." James felt his cheeks flush as he saw Lily's eyelids flicker. "Or it could have meant your grandfather."

"My - what?"

"Your mother's father. The wizard who came to see her when you were staying with Remus and his parents."

"That old man was James's grandfather?" Sirius cried.

"Yes."

Sirius turned to stare at James again, but he said nothing. Everything inside him was utter turmoil. How could his mother have kept all this from him? Hadn't he had a right to know this all along? It was all very well protecting him while he was a little boy, but he was seventeen now, he wasn't a child any more. He was a young man, almost ready to begin a life of his own, with courage and the determination to fight what was evil and defend what was good. There was a long silence while these thoughts and emotions coursed through his mind. At last he looked up to find several pairs of eyes watching him. He picked out Dumbledore's blue ones.

"I'm joining the Order of the Phoenix," he announced calmly.

The noises his friends made told him that they had expected him to say something rather different, to express his delight at being told the truth at last or anger at having been kept in the dark for so long. But what was the point? What was done was done, and all that was left now was to do what had to be done - to unite the efforts of all the living heirs of Gryffindor without exception and find a way to defeat Lord Voldemort and his followers once and for all. Recovering from the initial surprise of James's announcement, the others all looked at Dumbledore expectantly. He studied James for a long moment, then nodded his head.

"Albus ..." Professor McGonagall began, but a look from Dumbledore silenced her.

"We're joining too," Sirius vehemently announced at once, so determinedly that Peter jumped.

"I don't know that ..." Dumbledore began, but Sirius cut him off.

"If James is going to take the next step from Professor Darkhardt's classes to the Order proper, then so are we. We're all of age, we've nearly finished school, and what's more we're his friends, and he's going nowhere without us," Sirius insisted.

"Sirius," James said, "it's dangerous."

"We all know that, but when has that ever stopped Gryffindors from sticking together?" Lily said surprisingly. "Or Ravenclaws," she added with a smile at Aurora.

James looked from her, to Sirius's eager face, to the others. Aurora smiled. Frank nodded grimly. Peter looked shell-shocked and stole a sideways glance at Remus, who said quietly but resolutely,

"Sirius is right. Where you go, we go."

Peter gulped and lowered his eyes. This time, Dumbledore took so long to consider that Sirius began shifting impatiently on his chair. But it was Remus who spoke up.

"Professor Darkhardt didn't give us extra defence lessons so that we would go home and hide. He thought us brave enough and capable of defending ourselves. He knew that we would all come up against the Dark forces one day, and he prepared us well. He taught us the importance of fighting Voldemort ourselves, not leaving it to others."

There was a new kind of cold determination in his voice that the others hadn't heard there before, an edge of unshakeable resolve.

"Very well," Dumbledore sighed at last. "I will inform the Order that we have seven new members. But you will all take your exams and wait until you have finished school before you attend any of our meetings. I must also warn you all that you may be heading for grave danger, or even death. Things will be getting darker before the light breaks through, and many or all of us may not survive the storm that is coming."

He looked at them all in turn. James nodded curtly, while Lily shifted her green eyes to his hazel ones. Sirius squared his shoulders - Frank Longbottom smiled.

"We know what we're facing, sir," he said. "But even if we should all end up getting ourselves killed, at least we'll die knowing that we've done something worthwhile."

Professor Dumbledore smiled back.

"There is no beating the courage of our Gryffindors," he said proudly. "And Ravenclaws," he added as Lily had done, winking at Aurora.