Three Animagi and a Werewolf

Chapter 33: Wedding Bells

Coming Together

The next months simply flew by, or so it seemed to many members of the Order of the Phoenix. After their reunion on that cold winter day, Bridget and Malcolm had not waited long before they took a short holiday together and returned wearing wedding rings. Of course, all their friends and family knew the marriage was not really legitimate, but no one blamed them, all the same. Malcolm's flat having been wrecked by the Death Eaters who had been looking for him, they decided that the easiest thing would be for him to move in with Bridget and the boys, at least for a while. It was a little cramped to begin with, considering the flat had originally been the home of only a very young girl and her small son, and now housed four adults. However, it was not long before Sirius announced his intention of finding a place of his own now that James would soon be getting married. Bridget seemed rather upset at first that both of them would be leaving so soon, but she had understood that it was only natural for Sirius to want to move out. This he did in March, at about the same time as Gordon proudly announced that he had found the perfect little house for James and Lily at Godric's Hollow, not far from his own Gryffindor Hall. They had all gone to see it together - Gordon, James and Lily, Bridget and Malcolm, and Sirius - and it had been obvious from the start that Lily simply adored the place. It was a quaint little old cottage with ivy growing up its walls and rose trellises in the back garden, and James, Sirius, Remus and Peter had spent a lot of time repainting the walls and window frames while Lily had begun thinking about curtains and rugs and making up a list of things that they would need.

Lily and James's wedding was not, however, the only one this year. Lance Lovegood and Gloria Boom took their vows in April, and Oliver McKinnon and Marlene Moss were married almost as soon as she left school in June, with Gideon Prewett as best man. Marlene joined the Order at once, as did Gideon's younger brother Fabian, who had also left Hogwarts this summer. It was now July, and it had been a Sunday of glorious sunshine.

Malcolm and Bridget had been sharing their lives for five months now. It had been, on the whole, a happy time, during which he had recovered visibly, regaining some of the weight he had lost during his time with the Death Eaters, though he kept the stubble of beard that covered his still narrowed cheeks, and gradually becoming a little more his old self again. The other day, when they had been round for dinner, Faith had said as much privately to Bridget in the kitchen, and complimented her on what she had termed her "healing influence". There was no denying, however, that things were still a little difficult at times. Even though Bridget remained firm in her views of everything Malcolm had told her, and her opinion that anything he had done while pretending to be the Death Eater Travers had been necessary, his sense of guilt was no less than it had been at the beginning. And though he no longer had flashbacks of what he had experienced every night, every now and then he would have intense, highly realistic nightmares that took him back to those days, to what he had done and what Voldemort and the Death Eaters had done to him.

When she woke up in the middle of the night some three weeks before James and Lily were to be married and found the pillow beside her still warm, but empty, Bridget knew at once that this was one of those occasions when the past reared its head to haunt them. She strained her eyes in what little light from the street lamp outside was filtering through the blinds of their bedroom, trying to see if Malcolm, unable to sleep, might be sitting up in the chair by the dresser. But she could not see him there. Concluding that he had probably gone to kitchen, Bridget tried to remind herself that it was silly to lie awake waiting for him when he might easily decide not to come back to bed at all - he had done it before - and turned over, closing her eyes.

She opened them again almost at once. She could hear noises somewhere beyond the bedroom door, a kind of muttering and then a shout. Bridget sat up at once, put on her slippers and dressing gown and opened the door into the hall. The sounds were louder here, though still muffled. She followed them to the living room door and opened it softly. There were no blinds in this room, only pale curtains, so that there was more light here than in the bedroom, and by that light she could see the two people already in the room. Malcolm was on the floor by the sofa, shuddering and crying out as he had done most nights in the early days of their marriage, and James was crouching beside him, keeping a tight hold on his arms to stop him from flailing about and breaking something or hurting himself, and trying to calm him in a whisper. Hearing the door open behind him, James turned his head. His face, ghostly blue in the pale light, registered relief.

"Hello, Mum. I shut the door hoping I could deal with this without having to wake you, but I think it might be better if you ..."

"Thank you, James," she said, joining him swiftly and feeling Malcolm's forehead. "He's feverish," she murmured.

"I thought if I talked to him, maybe I could wake him, but I don't think I got through."

Bridget nodded, and gripping Malcolm firmly by both shoulders, she shook him.

"Come on, darling, time to wake up."

He showed no reaction except to shout again and give a shudder so great that James nearly let go.

"We could chuck a bucket of cold water over him," he suggested dryly.

Bridget shot him an ironic smile.

"If this doesn't work," she said, "that may be our best option."

She murmured a quick apology and slapped Malcolm firmly in the face. The effect was immediate. He gave a violent start and one last yell, then his struggling stopped and his eyes opened unnaturally wide, darting around unfocused. James let go of his arms, and Bridget gently touched his cheek where she had slapped it and he focused on her face.

"It's all right, darling," Bridget said soothingly. "It was a dream."

Malcolm stared at her with eyes that were full of bewilderment and pain for a minute, then he suddenly retched as though he were about to be sick. Bridget wrapped her arms around Malcolm and pulled his head onto her chest, stroking his hair. He trembled against her, one hand finding her arm and clutching onto it tightly.

"James," Bridget said quietly, "get us a glass of water, will you?"

James gave a nod and departed.

Bridget buried her face in Malcolm's hair and whispered softly, "What was it this time?"

"The ... potion," he said breathlessly. "I was ... in that room ... with the cauldron, and they ... held my head while he ... he poured it down ..."

He retched again, but Bridget still held him closely and he relaxed a little in her arms. James came back carrying a glass of water, which Malcolm took from him gratefully.

"Better not drink it too quickly. It's cold," James advised.

"Good," said Malcolm, and drank every last drop slowly. "Thanks," he said, handing the glass back to James. "Sorry about this. I didn't mean to wake you too."

"I don't suppose you meant to wake anyone, but it can't be helped. Want another glass?"

"No, thanks."

"I'll just pop this in the kitchen and get back to bed then if you two can manage. Mum?"

She nodded. "Thank you, James."

James left them again. Malcolm straightened up a little and wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. Bridget kissed his cheek.

"Feel any better?"

"How can I not, in this position?" he asked with a flicker of a smile which faded quickly. "It was damnably lifelike. Even the taste ..."

Bridget listened patiently. She had found out that it was better to let him talk about his dreams, because if he didn't, they only got worse.

"God, it was murder," he went on slowly. "Knowing what they were doing was going to make him immortal, and that I couldn't do a single thing to stop it happening, and having him gloat over it in my face. I honestly believed I was done for then. I thought he'd won, and my death was going to help him get what he wanted. If there'd been any way to do it at the time, I think I ... I probably would have killed myself, rather than let that happen."

Kissing him tenderly on the lips, Bridget whispered, "I'm glad there wasn't a way."

He sighed and looked deeply into her eyes. "Do that again, and I might forget all about these dreams. After all, that's all they are now."

"No, Malcolm. That's not all they are, and you couldn't forget. You know that, and you know we have to talk this through."

"Can't that wait until morning?"

"You know it can't. In the morning you'll find another excuse, and what we haven't talked about will fester and get worse. So, remember what I said about this?"

He nodded sombrely. "You said that I mustn't feel guilty because it was my life force that made him stronger."

"That's right. It makes no sense to blame yourself. What you did - every single thing you did - you did for a good cause. You did it for all of us, for your family, for the Order, and for every man, woman and child that has ever suffered and will ever suffer at the hands of the Death Eaters. You did it because you're a good man, and a brave man. You have nothing to reproach yourself with."

"You know that's not true."

"Yes, it is," she said firmly.

"Bridget, how can you say that? I've told you everything that happened. Every little detail. About every time I stood by as more people took their oaths as Death Eaters, every time people were murdered in my presence and I stood by and watched, and did nothing to save them. I've told you how I hurt people. That kid in Newcastle ... I never believed myself capable of it, but I tortured her, damn it. Me! Don't you understand? If you'd seen ... what I did ..."

He broke off, his voice failing him. Bridget stroked his rough cheek.

"You saved that young woman's life," she told him. "I've told you before. They wanted you to kill her, but you couldn't. You took the only way out, for both of you. Thanks to you, she's alive."

"Alive," he repeated bitterly. "What good is that when you've suffered what I made her suffer, at her young age? Do you think I haven't told myself exactly what you're saying, a hundred times over, since it happened? But the thing of it is ... you have to mean the Unforgivable Curses, Bridget, or they won't work ..."

"Yes, that's true. And I dare say you did really want to perform that curse at the time. But what matters is the reason behind it. You willed yourself to perform it because you had to, because it was your only hope, not because you wanted to cause pain. I wish I could make you see that." She sighed heavily. "What Voldemort did to you on Slytherin's Rock was nothing, was it? Not compared to everything else. Everything he ordered you to do. Because you couldn't fight the potion, but you feel in everything else you had a choice, even though you didn't really."

"Yes, I did! I did have a choice, and I chose to do his bidding." Malcolm gave a shout of frustration and turned his face away from her. "How am I ever to live with that?" he murmured. "I was a fool to think I could. To think that life could just go on as it was, that you and I ..."

"Stop it," Bridget said sharply. "We've covered all this before. I need you as much as you need me, Malcolm, and I will not let this beat us, not when you've already come so far. It's the small hours of the morning now, things always look darker then. When daylight comes, you won't feel quite as bad. And I'll help you, darling. I'll help you in any way I can."

She turned his face towards her and kissed his lips passionately.

"Well, that's a good way to start," he said hoarsely when she finally stopped.

He kissed her neck gently and she ran her fingers through his hair and whispered, "Let's go back to bed, shall we?"

He stopped kissing her to look at her, his face barely an inch from her own. "I love you," he whispered, and she smiled at him, then closed her eyes and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, her head nestling against it as he got to his feet, a little gingerly at first, but stronger with every step, and carried her back into the bedroom.

But as Bridget lay staring at the ceiling an hour later, feeling his steady breathing against her cheek, a frown creased her brow. She could love him as much as she liked, but how was she ever to overcome the guilt by which he was punishing himself? She decided she must do something about it, and soon. And for that, she needed help. She must talk to John.

* * *

"Shall I come and visit you in your lunch break?" Malcolm asked at breakfast.

Bridget shook her head. "No, we're going to be pretty busy at the shop. Stocktaking."

"I thought you did that kind of thing after Christmas."

"Usually, yes. But Mrs. Shaw's decided we ought to do it now as well."

"Some books not been selling as well as they used to, is that it?"

"Probably," Bridget agreed, readily accepting the excuse he offered. "Anyway, I'm not likely to have time for a proper lunch."

"It's not healthy to skip meals, you know."

"Just the one won't hurt me. What will you do?"

To her surprise, he looked slightly embarrassed. "I ... I've been thinking. I've been living off you for half a year now ..."

"Malcolm!"

"No, let me finish," he went on quickly. "It's not right for you to foot all the bills on your own."

"It's no problem, really. And Father would always help out if ..."

"You think I'd let your father pay the rent while I sit around all day doing nothing?"

"You need time."

He shook his head determinedly. "No, I don't. I need something to occupy me. I need a job."

"What kind of job were you thinking of?" Bridget asked carefully, pouring him coffee.

He sighed, "Well, the Dark Arts - one way or another - are all I really know anything much about. Fighting's the only thing I'm any good at."

"Not true," she objected with a smile, and he grinned back affectionately. "Anyway," Bridget went on, "Crouch fired you, remember? I don't know that he's quite desperate enough to have you back."

Malcolm laughed dryly. "I see you have a high opinion of my prospects. Well, perhaps you're right. It'll have to be something else then. I'm hanged if I know what, but I'll think of something."

He dank his coffee and Bridget, half smiling and half serious, said, "Make sure it's something nice and safe, darling. You're not as young as you were."

Malcolm pretended to look offended for a second, then he jumped up, laughing, "I'll have you for that, young lady!"

He chased her round the kitchen table and she squealed when he caught her round the middle. He kissed her tenderly.

"Do you think old men kiss like that?" he asked her quietly.

She smiled and shook her head. Just then, there was a knock on the door and they drew apart quickly.

"Sorry," James apologised. "I didn't mean to interrupt. I just want a slice of toast, then I'll leave you to it."

"Nonsense, dear," said Bridget at once, smoothing her dress. Malcolm sat back down with his elbows on the table and his chin resting on folded hands, casting her smiles with his eyes as she moved around James, enjoying the way she blushed.

* * *

"So," Sirius asked James as they travelled up in the lift to Auror Headquarters together a short while later. "How are things at home? Malcolm got over those freak nightmares of his yet?"

"Not quite," James told him. "He was pretty rough last night. Seems to have got over it okay though."

"Usual treatment, I presume?" Sirius remarked with a sly grin.

James felt himself go red and had the uncanny feeling that everyone in the lift was listening in on their conversation when, in fact, the other passengers were all too busy carrying on conversations of their own. But he didn't need to answer.

"Well, Bridget is one hell of a good-looking woman," Sirius commented. "Bet she could take anyone's mind off just about anything."

"Shut up, Sirius, that's my mother you're talking about! Might as well be yours, too, you spent enough time at our place."

Sirius shrugged. "I can still appreciate the fact she's beautiful. Can't you?"

James nodded.

"Well then. Wouldn't blame Malcolm for laying it on a bit thick now and then to be 'comforted'. I suppose it is a bit awkward though."

"Will you just shut it?" James said, only half annoyed now because he realised Sirius was mainly trying to provoke and tease him.

"All right, all right." Sirius raised his hands defensively. "You'll find out all about it soon, though. Young married life, like. Getting nervous yet?"

"You always ask that," James said irritably. "And the answer's still the same."

"What answer?"

"No, damn it," said James, fiddling with his collar now.

Sirius laughed loudly. "I knew it. Jumpy as a rabbit, that's what you are."

"Whatever," murmured James as the lift doors slid open and he stepped thankfully out into the corridor.

* * *

Making Plans

The group lunching together at the Leaky Cauldron today was small. It consisted only of Remus, Peter and Lily, the young Aurors-in-training having been called away on yet another emergency. They certainly couldn't complain about any lack of practical training, as Remus had pointed out when they had first entered the pub and Lily had seemed anxious. She had shot him a wan smile, but cheered up a little since then. Now she was brooding over a sheet of notepaper filled with oddly shaped circles and rectangles and scribblings, tapping a biro against her cheek and occasionally picking at her sandwich.

"What is that?" Peter asked, tucking into his toad-in-the-hole.

"Seating arrangements," Lily sighed. "But I can't make up my mind who to put where. I mean, we're inviting some of my Muggle friends as well as everyone else, but I can't possibly sit them with someone like Professor Dumbledore, or ... well ... you do see my point?"

Remus pushed his salad and the sheaf of parchment he had been studying with knit brow to one side, apparently glad of a distraction, and held out his hand for the sheet of paper. "May I?"

Nodding, Lily offered him the biro as well, but he took out his wand instead.

"What are you doing?" she asked, but Peter was grinning.

"I know," he said. "Moony's making you a Marauder's seating plan."

With a smile, Remus told Lily to watch, which she did, and waved his wand across the paper. All the names she had scribbled floated to one side of the paper and the lines of the tables that she had sketched so untidily straightened themselves.

"Now," said Remus, pointing the tip of his wand at two of the names. "Let's start with you and James, shall we?"

With a twist of his hand, he moved the names of Lily and James to the centre of the main table.

"Yes, I got that part sorted all right," Lily said. "But then ..."

"You'll want your mother sitting next to you." Remus moved the name there as he spoke. "And some good friend of hers, so she'll have someone to talk to?"

Lily pointed out a name and he made it move next to her mother's.

"Then you'll have Bridget and my Uncle Malcolm on James's other side. And Sirius, being best man, will have to sit at the main table - with the girl of the moment. And your sister and her husband ..."

He searched the list, but Lily was already shaking her head.

"You won't find them there. They're not coming."

"Why not?" asked Peter.

"Vernon's got some vitally important appointment that day, so he says. They asked us to make it a week later, actually."

"Couldn't you have done so? Surely you want your sister at your wedding," Remus said.

Lily looked at him, raising her eyebrows a little. Suddenly realising, he said haltingly, "You didn't ... not because ..."

"You don't really think James and I would consider marrying under a full moon, do you?" Lily said reproachfully. "We'd both much rather have you there than Petunia and Vernon, who are only really looking for an excuse not to come anyway."

"Makes sense," said Peter through his last mouthful of lunch.

Remus had an odd, closed expression on his face. "I ..." he began, but Lily cut him short.

"Don't say you're touched, I can see that for myself. And let's not have any more nonsense about considering my sister. She doesn't want to come, I assure you, so don't worry about it. That is, I assume you do want to come?"

"Of course."

"Well then. No Dursleys on the seating plan. I had Gordon and Dumbledore that end of the table." She leaned over his arm to point. "Do you think that's all right?"

"Is Gordon coming then?" Peter said, surprised. "I thought no one was supposed to know he and James are related."

"No one outside the Order, and anyone in it already knows. The Muggles won't know him from Adam. The only problem cases really are whatever girl Sirius drags along and ... and ..."

"And?"

"Heather," Lily said quickly, leaning back again and casting a worried glance at Remus. "Fabian asked if he could bring her along and I didn't know how to say no. Do you mind awfully?"

Remus's hand closed a little more tightly around his wand, but otherwise he betrayed no emotion.

"No," he said steadily. "I don't mind."

Lily smiled. "Of course, I knew you wouldn't admit it if you did mind."

"Let's get on with this, shall we?" he said evasively, looking away.

Lily nodded, and drew a little closer to him as he fitted all the other names around the tables.

"Now, do you see my problem?" she asked when he had finished. "It doesn't work out. You've got to have three magical people at a table of Muggles. What have you got there?"

She leaned closer to read the names around each table.

"Oh ... but ... Remus, wouldn't you rather sit with your parents?"

"I'd like to, but there's no room. Look, I've put Alice and Frank and me on this table, the one you labelled 'old school friends'. Alice knows how to behave among Muggles and Frank doesn't talk very much to strangers anyway. Neither do I." He added with a crooked smile, "And I promise I won't bite."

The last remark caused Lily to frown at him reproachfully for a moment. Then she grinned.

"On your own head be it, then. You've put yourself next to Ellie Simpson. She's sweet, but she's a terrible giggler, and she hasn't had a boyfriend for three months."

"Then let's hope she doesn't bite me," Remus commented.

All three of them laughed.

"Thanks for the help, Remus," Lily said cheerfully. "I never dreamed a wedding could be so complicated and involve so much planning."

"You're welcome."

Remus reverted his attention to his salad. Peter swallowed his last sip of pumpkin juice, and being the first to finish his lunch, was also the first to notice Lily's change of mood when he looked across at her. She appeared lost in thought all of a sudden.

"What's up, Lily?" he asked, causing Remus to look up at her too. "Did you forget to invite someone?"

"I can't think of anyone. Except perhaps our dear old friend Severus," she said with a brief twinkle. Then she turned to Remus once more, and her expression was oddly grave.

"I've still got one problem," she said. "I was hoping your dad might be able to help me with it. What do you think?"

"Tell me what the problem is, and I'll let you know."

Lily told him, and he smiled.

"Will you ask him for me?" Lily requested.

Remus shook his head. "You ask him. I'm sure he'd like that much more."

* * *

John Lupin was having one of those days. Many private citizens, it seemed, were having the same idea as the Ministry about breeding new kinds of creatures for their protection, and today he had already dealt with a winged guard dog, a ferocious Knarl with poisonous fangs and a cage full of fire-breathing Cornish pixies. He was applying ointment to a burn from one of these when there was a knock on the door. It was Bridget.

"Hello," she said when he received her with some surprise. "I'm sorry to butt in on you like this. Is it inconvenient?"

"Not at all. Come in."

Bridget did so, closing the door behind her, and took off her cardigan.

"Do you mind if we don't go out? I told Malcolm I didn't have time for lunch, and it would be awkward if we bumped into him anywhere."

John cast her a curious look, and dropped the bandage he had been trying to fasten around his right wrist with his left hand.

"Let me do that," Bridget said. "Sit down."

John sat on his desk and she picked up a clean bandage and began applying it gently.

"You should be more careful what you do with your arm," she said. "It wasn't all that long ago that you last had this bandaged."

"Half a year," he reminded her. "It's been half a year now, Bridget."

"Yes. But it doesn't seem that long ago. Time flies by so quickly, doesn't it? When you're happy."

"You don't look happy now," he noted. "Why are you here, Bridget? It must be a beautiful day outside."

"It's because of Malcolm," she answered. "He's still having nightmares. Not as often as before, but ... well, last night's was rather nasty. He sleep-walks sometimes, and it worries me, because his dreams are so vivid that he loses himself in them, he thinks they're real, and it frightens me when I think what might happen if ... if some night I don't wake up soon enough. I worry he might hurt himself.

"I see."

Bridget, having secured the bandage around John's wrist, sat next to him on the edge of the desk. "I just feel that I must do something. Waiting for these dreams to just go away of their own accord isn't enough."

"Do you have any ideas?"

"Not really. Just half an idea. Very vague. You see, the biggest problem seems to be that he still holds himself responsible for his actions while he was pretending to be a Death Eater. He doesn't see that he did any good, he only sees the bad. And he seems to focus a lot of his guilt on this one event in Newcastle."

"Ah. That."

"You know about it?"

"I know that something happened there that he blamed himself for, and badly. He wrote to me at the time. It was a dangerous, careless thing to do, and not at all like him. From that letter, I gather he was forced to hurt someone."

Bridget nodded. "It was a girl. Or a young woman, rather. I think she was about eighteen, but I've no idea who she was. Anyway, he tortured her. With the Cruciatus curse."

She waited for John's reaction, and he nodded slowly.

"Yes. That's what I guessed."

"The others wanted him to kill her," Bridget went on quickly. "Naturally, he couldn't do that. But he had to do something ... something cruel, or they'd have killed the girl, and him with her."

"And Malcolm's nightmares are all to do with this?"

"Not all of them, no. A lot of them. Sometimes it's other things. But I think this event, and others like it, are at the bottom of his problems. Why he can't let go. And just letting the memory of it become more and more distant isn't helping."

"I don't think we will be able to make it go away, Bridget," John pointed out gently. "Not unless you're considering modifying his memory to a large extent."

"He'd never agree to that!"

"It could be done without his agreement."

Bridget shook her head adamantly. "No. No, John, I couldn't. I couldn't face myself, and I ... I don't know how to explain it ... I'd miss something. I want him to be happy and carefree and all that ... but ..."

"But there are some things about the new Malcolm you don't want to erase?"

"Yes. Yes, that's it. All these experiences have made him ... softer. More vulnerable, more in need of my care, and I've liked caring for him. I want him to be strong again, but I don't want him to forget ... those moments. Not entirely. I suppose that sounds awfully selfish."

John smiled and took her hand.

"Selfish, to want him to keep the memory of what have probably been some of the most tender moments of your life together? To want him to remember how much you love him? No, dear. That isn't selfish. It's human, and it's the way it should be."

"I do think you're being a little too indulgent towards me. But thanks," Bridget said, returning his smile. "But the point is, what alternative is there?"

John let go of her hand, got up and paced a bit.

"There is the possibility ... one would have to make sure first that it was safe ..."

"What do you mean?"

"What if we found the girl? If we brought him to her, showed him that she was all right? Maybe that would help."

"What if she's not all right?"

"We'd make sure of that first, of course."

Bridget said thoughtfully, "It might work. It's worth a try." She got up and smiled at him again. "I knew you'd think of something to help me. I don't know what we'd all do without you."

"Spend less money on bandages?" he suggested, indicating his arm.

"I'm sure there must be easier ways to learn how to be ambidextrous," Bridget replied. She kissed his cheek. "I'm serious, John. Like a lot of people, I often forget to tell others how much I appreciate them. So I'm doing it now. Thank you, dear John."

He inclined his head with the hint of an amused bow. "You're welcome."

Bridget sighed. "You know, all things considered, we're all pretty well off at the moment, aren't we? Considering how things were a little over half a year ago. Apart from Malcolm's nightmares, of course, I ... I'm quote content. Are you?"

"I'm ... yes, I suppose ..."

She looked at him sharply. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, it's just ... I can't believe we can go on like this, in the reasonable security we've lived in these past months, forever. At the end of last year, things were in such a turmoil. And then we saved Malcolm, and what with Aurora ... Alice, I mean ... and everyone becoming engaged and happily married ... We've all shown our true allegiance, one way or the other. Our enemies won't suffer it forever without some kind of retribution."

"Meaning you fully expect to come home one night and find a Dark Mark over your house? John, Faith is safe. Safer than any of us. No one can get in unless she lets them, and you know she wouldn't without a password."

"I know. I wasn't necessarily thinking of Faith, not this time. I was thinking about something Philippa once said, about how the other side must be seeking allies and spies among us. And yet they don't seem to have done so very actively yet. Or else we haven't heard about it."

"So what you're saying is, if anyone has been asked to turn spy, they haven't come forward and said, and therefore ..."

"Quite."

Bridget shook her head. "I don't believe that. But you're right, of course, that we ought to be careful. I think ..."

She broke off. A knock on the door had interrupted them, alerting them both to how incautious they were being, discussing these matters in a public building. They were both rather relieved when, at John's call of "Yes?", a familiar red head looked in on them, and Lily's smile flashed apologetically.

"Hello," she said. "Can I come in?"

"Of course," said John.

Bridget nodded. "I was just leaving anyway. I must get back to the shop. Goodbye, John, and thank you again. Goodbye, Lily."

She went out, closing the door behind her. John offered Lily a chair, but she declined.

"I really don't want to take up too much of your time. I just wanted to ask you a favour."

John asked, smiling encouragingly, "What can I do for you?"

"It's about the wedding. We want it to be traditional, you know, and ... well, with Dad ... dying last year ... it leaves me a bit at a loss. Someone has to give the bride away, don't they, and it ought to be a man, so I can hardly ask Mum, so I was wondering ... Would you?"

"Me?"

He looked at her rather like Remus had looked when he realised that it was for his sake, as much as anything, that they had refused to hold the wedding a week later.

"Yes. I really can't think who I'd rather have. Please."

"I ... well, I mean - yes, of course. If that's what you want."

"Oh, thank you!" Lily hugged him suddenly. "Remus said you wouldn't mind."

"Mind? I'm honoured."

Lily's smile broadened.

* * *

Ties Made and Ties Broken

The day of the wedding drew near quickly, more quickly than either Bridget or Rose Evans liked, and soon James was standing in a church with Sirius just behind him, forever straightening the collar of his brand new, black silk dress robes, and looking at his watch.

"I told you we'd be hours too early," Sirius mumbled.

"Better early than late. I didn't want to give her a chance to change her mind before I got here. Hello, Remus."

Remus joined them, and patted James on the shoulder.

"Chin up, Prongs. It won't be long now."

"About time you showed up," Sirius hissed. "You haven't got the rings, by any chance?" he added slyly.

James turned his head so quickly he cricked his neck. He turned, if possible, even paler.

"What do you mean, has he got the rings? Sirius, you promised ..."

"I promised I'd have them at hand when the crucial moment comes. I decided to play safe and let Moony look after them until then."

"And I have," Remus reassured James, as the latter's eyes swivelled immediately to him. He drew a small parcel out of his inside pocket and handed it to Sirius.

"Thanks, mate."

James heaved a sigh of relief. "Would you mind doing us another favour, Moony? Could you wait outside and keep your eye out, and tip us the wink when she's coming?"

"Yes," chuckled Sirius, "you do that. And if you see her running, catch her and drag her back here, will you?"

James said anxiously, "You don't think ..."

Sirius and Remus exchanged amused glances. "Cool customer, this one," Sirius remarked ironically.

Remus smiled faintly. It seemed to his friends - or to Sirius and Peter, since James was too preoccupied to notice - that there was something weighing on his mind today that had nothing to do with the wedding. He looked paler than usual and more tired, and slightly distracted. However, he went outside as requested. The car bringing Lily and his father arrived soon, and Remus went towards it to hold the door open while his father helped Lily out. This was not easy, owing to the large amounts of white silk and lace that surrounded her. She turned to face Remus, and for a second any other thoughts that might have distracted him vanished from his mind. He was vaguely aware of his mouth hanging open and shut it again. Lily's pink lips spread into a sweet, shy smile.

"Hello, Remus. I see you approve of the dress. Do you think James will like it?"

"Not quite as much as the girl in it, I'm sure," he said, recovering quickly. Then he added with sincerity, "You look beautiful."

"Thank you. Well, run along inside and let James know I'm coming and haven't changed my mind. That is why you're on guard out here, isn't it?"

Remus just smiled, nodded, and made his way back into the church. He returned to his seat and caught James's eye. James looked more nervous than ever before in his life, but Remus smiled encouragement at him.

And then the bride entered to the sounds of a wedding march. Lily's entrance in her white gown, with white roses in her hair and a bouquet of pink roses in her hands, was a sight that none of the guests - and least of all the groom - were ever likely to forget. James found himself unable to breathe for several seconds when he saw her, and it was only when her green eyes, at once nervous and sparkling with excitement, met his own, that he finally managed to relax slightly, and he took her hand gently and smiled at her.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too," she replied just as quietly.

Many eyes were dabbed at during the ceremony, and everything went smoothly and perfectly, like a dream. Sirius produced the rings on time, and soon everyone was back outside in the sunshine and photographs were being taken, they all hugged the groom and kissed the bride, and then made their way to the reception.

Unbeknownst to the happy couple's Muggle guests, the venue was well protected by all manner of charms that warded it against intruders. The seating arrangements seemed to suit everyone well, Sirius had them all in fits of laughter with his traditional best man's speech on the escapades of their 'youth', of which he spoke as of something long gone by, and James's constant obsession throughout his school years with the red head now at his side, who Sirius claimed was much too good for James and would have been much better off with him instead. John, too, had prepared a speech for the occasion, though it could not have been more different from Sirius's. He thanked Lily for having asked him to stand in for her father today, and went on to wish the young couple good fortune and joy ... in a way that had more than one of those guests who were part of the Order guessing that his speech was meant for more than just Lily and James.

When they had all had as much and more as they could eat and were beginning to relax into a pleasant hubbub of chatter, the band struck up the first dance tune of the evening and Lily and James stepped onto the dance floor.

"Oooh, don't they look happy?" cried Ellie Simpson in Remus's ear.

He smiled absently. Lily had certainly been right where this Muggle school friend of hers was concerned. Ellie - a slender, rather pretty girl with a head of unruly blonde curls and large blue eyes - had started chatting and giggling at him from the moment Remus had introduced himself and sat down, and had been exerting her not inconsiderable charms on him ever since, flashing smiles, fluttering her eyelids and giggling girlishly at everything remotely amusing that he said, so that Frank more than once shot him a look of sympathy. Remus, however, was not really annoyed - in fact, he was barely aware of the girl. He conversed lightly enough with her, but his thoughts were elsewhere, as anyone who knew him could easily tell. When the dancing started, Ellie kept emitting small sighs and shifting in the chair beside him, but Remus remained unmoved until suddenly, a second girl's voice broke into his thoughts.

"Hello," it said. "Remus ...?"

While Ellie fell silent, studying the newcomer with suspicion and resentment, Remus looked up at the girl with the tentative, shy voice he would have known anywhere. Heather Woodcock had pinned her brown curls up elegantly and allowed a few loose locks to frame her pale face. Her dress was a delicate shade of pink, and matched the current colour of her cheeks perfectly, and her clear, blue eyes were as anxious as ever. Remus managed to make his smile friendly, but - he hoped - not too encouraging.

"Hello, Heather," he greeted her. "It's nice to see you."

He was quite surprised to notice that his own voice sounded quite steady, and he felt quite calm at this moment, too. Remembering his manners, he indicated the girl beside him and added, "This is Lily's school friend from her first school. Ellie Simpson. Ellie, this is Heather Woodcock."

The two girls exchanged polite smiles, and Heather became a bit awkward.

"Remus," she ploughed on with an effort, "could I talk to you for a minute?"

There was a pause, then Ellie gave a sigh and reluctantly said she really must go in search of a drink, and left them together. Heather sat down on what had been Frank's chair, since Frank and Alice were currently on the dance floor.

"I'm glad you're here too," Heather said. "It's been a long time since we met in Hogsmeade."

"Yes, I suppose it has." He added in an attempt to change the subject, "So, are you and Fabian enjoying the wedding?"

"Oh yes," said Heather. "Lily looks so beautiful, and she and James look so nice together. It's like they were made for each other. Although Jean - my best friend - says there's no such thing as a 'match made in heaven', being meant for each other or ... or love at first sight. And she says your first school-time romance never lasts ..."

"In most cases," he said gently, "she is probably right."

"But not in this case! There can be exceptions," Heather said quickly. "Some people go on caring about each other forever."

He looked at her closely. She did look very pretty today. As pretty as he had ever seen her. Except perhaps on that first day, the first time they had bumped into each other. He wondered if he would ever forget that moment. Love at first sight? No, he realised with a jolt. It hadn't been love. An infatuation, perhaps. But not really love. And as he managed to admit that to himself, to accept that he, Remus Lupin, for all his cool logic and reason, had been infatuated with this girl, he began to realise something else. That infatuation had come to an end. He was sitting here, facing her, and he felt calm. No more nervousness, no more fearing to tell her outright what he must, that she must not expect anything to come of their time together at school - at least not for himself. His only anxiety now was for her. She looked so wistful. He found himself taking her hand.

"Yes," he said cautiously, "some people go on caring about each other. Some people even find that they care more about each other than about anyone else. Certainly, that applies to Lily and James. But your friend is right, Heather. In most cases, people drift apart and move on."

"In some cases, they might do so although they don't really want to."

He shook his head regretfully. "But you must, little Heather. I'll admit that, perhaps, I was wrong not to speak out more plainly when we were at school together. On the other hand, maybe I was right. I've a feeling if I had given you a reason, if I had told you the whole truth, you wouldn't be looking at me like that now. Please believe me, Heather, I did have a reason, a good reason. And it's better that you don't know. And don't cry," he said quickly, seeing her eyes begin to shine. "You look so pretty, and you were having such a nice time. You should dance with Fabian, he's bound to be looking for you."

"I'd like to dance with you," Heather whispered.

He smiled and released her hand. "Go and dance with Fabian," he repeated. "I'm sure you'll enjoy it."

She got up reluctantly, half turned away, then looked back. "What if I said I want to know that reason? What if I insist you tell me the whole truth, so I can make up my own mind whether you were right?"

With his head a little to one side, Remus studied her thoughtfully for a moment. He pictured her that day, in his seventh year at Hogwarts, scrambling frantically away from her Boggart. He remembered the look in her eyes, and he looked into them now. And despite the fact that he no longer felt awkward and nervous in her presence, even though he knew what he had once felt for her was passing, he also knew that he had been right, and that even now, he could not bear it if she looked at him that way. And he said slowly, "Do you trust me, Heather?"

"I always have, you know that."

"Then trust me once more, and don't insist on the whole truth. Just believe me when I say that the reason was and is because I was fond of you - and I still am."

She looked at him intently for a moment, and something in her eyes seemed to change. There was a hint of something beyond the usual anxiety and eagerness to please, beyond the fascinated glow, that made him wonder if the part of her that feared what he was sensed some of the truth, instinctively. Then she said quietly, "You're so grown up, Remus. And so ... wise. I suppose it was silly to think we could be together, when you're so far beyond me."

And with these words, she walked slowly away. Remus watched her go, then lapsed back into his own thoughts until they were interrupted yet again.

"Is everything all right?"

It was Lily. He looked up and smiled at her.

"Fine."

"I saw you talking to Heather just now, I hope it wasn't too awkward for you."

"No. I think she understands now that there's no point for her to keep hoping ..."

"Did you tell her why?"

He shook his head. Lily did not look surprised.

"Are you sure ...?" she began, but he replied before she had finished.

"I'm quite sure it's for the best, and in fact I feel less bad about it than I did before."

"That's good," said Lily, smiling. "Well, if you're not too busy right now, I can ask what I came over here to ask."

"And what's that?"

"Will you dance with me?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Lily, I ..."

"I may as well tell you," Lily said quickly, "that that question was rhetorical. This is my wedding day, Remus. You do not deny the bride a wish on her wedding day. Or else."

She looked at him with determination as well as amusement, and he laughed.

"I wouldn't dream of denying you a wish, today or any other day."

"Good."

She grinned and took him by the hand, and he allowed himself to be dragged past the returning and disappointed-looking Ellie onto the dance floor.

* * *

It was almost midnight. Frank had gone to fetch a couple of drinks, and Alice was standing by the door to the terrace, a little way back from the dance floor, fanning herself with a napkin and watching the dancers with a smile on her face as Sirius ambled towards her.

"Hello, beautiful," he said, leaning against the wall beside her. "Having a good time?"

"Fantastic," she replied a little breathlessly.

"I'm surprised to see what an enthusiastic dancer Frank's become all of a sudden. I don't remember him ever dancing at all before tonight. Didn't think it was his scene."

"I'm sure there are a lot of things you'd be surprised to learn about Frank."

Sirius gave a grunt that earned him a reproachful look, so he said quickly, "Well, all right, I'll admit he's not a bad sort. I'd never have thought he was your type though. Now you and I, Rory ..."

"Sirius!" she hissed. "Don't call me that!"

"Loosen up, love. We're among friends here. No Death Eaters about after your blood." When she continued to look about anxiously, he pulled himself together a little. "All right then. Alice. I'm sorry. Got off on the wrong foot. That's what comes of leaving this nice little chat too late in the evening. I should have got it off my chest early on, before helping myself to all that punch. The thing is, without the punch I might never have had the guts."

"I haven't a clue what you're on about," Alice said slowly. "And I'm not sure I want to know."

"Oh, come on, beautiful. Give me a chance. I just started wrong, it didn't sound so stupid when I was rehearsing."

"Rehearsing? What in the world did you have to rehearse?"

"My speeches for the night. You've got to admit the first one was a corker. A best man's speech to be remembered. A real gem. That's because public speaking isn't half as difficult as private speaking. I'm not much good at that. Well, you ought to know, right? You know me."

She smiled. "Yes, I flatter myself that I do."

Feeling himself encouraged, Sirius went on, "Well, then you'll have a pretty good idea what I'm going to say. Look, I'm sorry if ... no, that I've treated you badly in the past. But you've got to admit, I've improved lately, haven't I? I've been positively saintly for months now."

"By your standards, I suppose," she laughed.

"Well then. Ro... Alice ... you know you're still the only girl I ever really cared about, don't you?"

Her smile fading, Alice asked, "Is that so? And did you tell Mary that when you asked her to come with you today?" She glanced towards the other side of the dance floor, where Mary Crimple was standing talking to Remus, casting glances in their direction every now and then. Remus, too, seemed to be looking over occasionally, and he did not look pleased.

"Never mind Mary," said Sirius, suddenly grabbing her hands to regain her attention. "What I'm trying to tell you is that I ... I miss you. Honestly. Sincerely. That's what you wanted, isn't it? For me to be 'sincere'? Well, from now on I will be, if you say you'll give us another chance."

"What are you talking about?" Alice asked, wide-eyed.

"I'm talking about us. You and me. That we should give it another try. I know it seems a bit caddish to spring this on you right now, behind Frank's back ..."

"Yes!" Alice exclaimed sharply.

He stopped talking and stared at her. She went on quietly, but without losing that sharp edge to her voice.

"Yes, Sirius, it is a caddish way to go about it. For heaven's sake, Sirius, this is your best friend's wedding, everyone's having a whale of a time, your girlfriend's waiting for you to dance with her and my boyfriend could be back any minute ..."

"Oh, come on, we both know he only caught you on the rebound, I bet even he reali... OUCH!"

Sirius rubbed his cheek where her hand had slapped him. Alice glared at him.

"I happen to be very fond of Frank," she said. "True, he's not like you. But that's what I like about him. He'd never hurt me, Sirius. Never."

"I know, I know," Sirius admitted quickly. "And I know he cares about you damnably. Hell, I felt as sorry as anyone for the poor devil that night when he turned up in Hogsmeade. But you've got to think about what you want. You used to want me, and I'm offering you another chance to have me, if you'll risk it once more."

"No, thank you," she replied coldly.

"Don't answer too quickly," he begged. "You haven't thought about it yet. Look, I know it can't be like it was last time. I'll have to behave myself better. Well, I will. If you'll have me back, I'll ..."

"Is this the last time you're going to bring this up? Ever."

"What? Yes, I suppose."

"Promise me, Sirius. Promise me that, if I give you a straight answer now, you won't bring this up again."

"All right," he said sombrely. "I promise."

Alice took a deep breath. She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them again, and smiled softly at him.

"I always wanted you, Sirius. For a very long time, I didn't know how I was going to exist if I couldn't have you all to myself." He started grinning, but she raised her hand to silence him. "No, wait, I haven't finished yet. I've got to tell you that I discovered long ago that I couldn't get what I wanted from you. I found it elsewhere. Someone who is loyal to me without having to make an effort, someone who's always at my side, who looks after me ..."

"Frank," Sirius grumbled dully.

"Yes," she said firmly. "Frank."

"Do you ... love him?"

"I need him, Sirius. I don't feel right without him. I don't feel whole."

"So the answer is 'no' then. No matter how much I pull myself together. Nothing doing?"

She hesitated very briefly, then shook her head. "No, there's nothing doing."

"Are you sure you know what you're up to?" he asked a little nervously. "Remember, I'm never going to ask you again."

"I'm sure."

Sirius studied her for a moment, then shook his head with a resigned sigh. He smiled at her.

"Don't look so worried, beautiful. I think you're making a big mistake, and you've just shattered all my dreams, but I'll live."

"We can still be friends?" she asked hopefully.

"Always."

There was a pause in which they stood looking at one another. Then, suddenly, he leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek.

"See you," he whispered in her ear, then he straightened up and said briskly, "If you'll excuse me ... I need a drink." And he walked away towards Mary and Remus.

"Sirius, you didn't ..." Remus began when he reached them, but Sirius forestalled him.

"Everything's fine as far as you're concerned, Remus. Looks like I'm out of favour."

"Oh. I'm ... sorry," Remus said slowly.

Looking at him Sirius realised with some surprise that he looked like he meant it. He patted Remus on the shoulder and turned to Mary.

"Care to dance?"

"What do you think I've been waiting for all evening?"

While they waltzed away, Remus glanced over to where Sirius and Alice had been talking. He discovered that she had gone, and the terrace door stood open a fraction.

A couple of minutes later, Alice heard footsteps behind her on the terrace and turned to see Frank coming towards her, bearing two glasses.

"Here you are!" he exclaimed. "I was wondering where you'd got to. I poked my head out the door once before but you've walked so far down, I didn't see you. Are you practising for the Concealment and Disguise exam?"

She smiled weakly. "Something like that. Thanks."

She took her glass from him and took a sip. He was watching her with a slightly troubled expression, and she wondered whether he had noticed her talking to Sirius. She did not have to wait long for an answer to that question.

"So," Frank said, struggling to sound casual, "did you and Sirius have a nice chat?"

"Yes," she replied, though her voice sounded a little unnatural in her own ears.

"Did he want ... anything in particular?"

With a slightly artificial-sounding chuckle, she teased, "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were jealous over a five minute conversation."

"Should I be?" he asked seriously.

Her smile fading, Alice looked up at him. He looked strangely resolute, as though steeling himself just in case the blow was about to fall. She took his glass from his hand and set it and her own down on the floor. Then she put her arms around him.

She said quietly, "I told him 'no'. Once and for all." Alice shifted a little, and looked into his eyes. "So no, you shouldn't be jealous."

After a moment's hesitation, seeming to search her eyes to discover how serious she was being, Frank softened and kissed her forehead. With a sigh, she rested her head against his chest.

"Are you happy, Frank?" she murmured.

"If you are," he answered quietly.

"I am. So happy I don't want to move ... ever. Can we just stay here for a bit? The fresh air is so lovely, and you're so warm."

He smiled and said gently, "We can stay here for as long as you want."

"Good," she said, and closed her eyes. "I'm so content," she murmured. "I could die right now, and not have a single regret."

"I'd have one regret," Frank disagreed.

"What's that?"

"That tango you promised me."

She looked up at him. "You mean the tango I threatened you with!"

"Yes, well ..." He shrugged his shoulders and grinned.

Grinning back, Alice said, "I get it. Anything to stop me being morbid. But it's only because I'm so happy."

"What a funny creature you are sometimes," he said, and kissed her properly this time.

* * *

All the Way

The moon shone brightly over Hogsmeade as Frank walked Alice to the front door of Thistledown an hour later. She stopped on the threshold with the door open behind her and turned around to look at him.

"I suppose I can't persuade you to come in for a nightcap?" she asked hopefully.

"No, thank you. It is rather late - or early, depending on which way you look at it. I wouldn't want to start any tongues wagging."

It occurred to her briefly that this consideration would not have held Sirius back for a second, but she did not say so. After tonight, what Sirius would or would not have done, had she been his girlfriend again, belonged to the past. It was Frank who stood looking down at her now, his gentle grey eyes - so different from Sirius's despite sharing the same colour - filled with eagerness and uncertainty at the same time. And that was the way she wanted it. Well, almost.

"The neighbours are all in bed anyway," she coaxed. "And no one need ever know. It would only be for one drink ..."

"You're probably right, but all the same. If anyone was still awake, I wouldn't want them to think ..."

"What?" asked Alice, slipping her arms around his waist. "What wouldn't you want them to think? That we're an item?" She kissed him on the lips. "I don't think they need any more evidence of that."

"Yes, I know. But before we give them cause to suspect any more, I want ... I'd like to ... I've got to ask you something."

"Oh," she said, her heart suddenly beating a little higher. She stood back from him and smoothed his robes where her touch had rumpled them, and she smiled shyly. "All right. I'm ready. Ask away."

Frank cleared his throat. "I was wondering if ... would you consider ..." He broke off, swallowed, and then said quickly, "My grandmother's invited us to stay. She's been a bit lonely since my grandfather passed on, and ... well, would you like to go?"

"Oh," Alice said again. Her heartbeat dropped rapidly back to normal, and her face fell.

"Of course, if you'd rather not ...," Frank said hurriedly.

"No," she replied flatly. "I don't mind. If you'd like us to go and see her ... I'm sure it will be very nice."

He opened his mouth to speak again, but she cut him short.

"Good night, Frank."

Without another word she turned, went indoors, and shut him out. Frank stood staring at the door. Slowly he turned, walked to the gate, then stopped.

"You idiot," he muttered to himself. "Of all the ridiculous, blundering, tongue-tied, half-witted, idiotic fools ..."

He took a deep, steadying breath, turned again and marched back up to the door. He had time to knock just once before the door was yanked open from within.

"Frank," she said sharply. "That was lousy."

"I know," he apologised. "It's just ... I wasn't prepared. It was too sudden. It sort of came over me, I didn't have time to plan it, and then I lost my nerve. But if you'll forgive me, I'd like to try again. May I?"

"Now?"

"Goodness, no." He smiled, embarrassed. "I think I've rather killed the moment for now. But in the morning. When I've had time to think it through, and get it right. Do you mind?"

He watched her anxiously. She was scowling, but slowly the scowl slid into a fond smile.

"All right," she said softly. "I'll see you in the morning then."

And this time, she kissed him gently on the cheek before she went back inside and closed the door. She leaned against it, her heart pounding. In the morning. She should get some sleep so she would be well rested. She shook herself. As if she could sleep with this on her mind! How would he ask her? Would he be quick and impatient? Or slow and shy? Then she laughed at herself, and at his words. As if you could really plan any of this! She would just have to take it as it came, provided Frank ever got the words out. How funny it was that things had turned out this way, that she was soon to be asked the question she had dreamed about since childhood from someone she had never expected to be asking it. How different Frank was from Sirius. How delightfully, sweetly, lovably different. Lovably?

*It's true,* she thought. *There's no doubt about it now. I love him.*

* * *

When he got home with his parents, Remus went straight up to his room and went to the window. He opened it, and resting his hands on the windowsill he stared out into the night, his eyes unwillingly drawn to the silver glimmer in the sky that was growing ever larger. One more week and it would be full, one more week and ...

"Remus?" his father's voice broke into his thoughts. When Remus turned around, John asked, "Is everything all right?"

"Yes," said Remus. Then, realising he probably didn't look all right, he added, "I'm just tired. It's been a long day, and I've only got a week to go ..."

John nodded, but did not say goodnight and leave the room as Remus had expected him to. Instead, he closed the door, pulled out the chair that stood by the desk, and sat down.

"What else is the matter?" he asked quietly. "You've seemed a bit distant all day, but I doubt you've been tired all day. Your mother's convinced something has upset you."

Remus might have thought of denying his distraction, but he knew he stood no chance of persuading his father that his mother's instinct was wrong. It had never failed yet where he was concerned. He sighed and sat on the bed.

"I don't know that you'll want to tell her the whole truth," he said. "But anyway ... it's to do with the Ministry. They're satisfied that we've really got those vampirical Doxies under control."

"Have you?"

"As much as we ever will have, I suppose. Not that I like the way it's been done. They've developed a potion that controls their minds. And now they want to start using them to guard certain things they want secured. Documents, records of the experiments themselves ..."

"And you disapprove?"

"Yes. I don't think any more of the idea of suppressing these creatures' nature than I thought of creating them in the first place. And besides, they could be dangerous to more than intruders. The idea is that the person whose documents are being protected will have a spray containing potion individually adapted to their doxy, so only they can control it. But if anyone steals the spray, or if the owner uses the wrong spray, the result wouldn't be pleasant."

"How dangerous are these vampirical Doxies?"

"Well, they won't turn anyone into a vampire. But they're out for blood, all right. Once they bite, they hang on. And unless they're removed from their victim within the first seventy-five seconds, they're deadly."

John frowned. "Do you think something should be done about them? Should we talk to Dumbledore?"

"I'm afraid it might be too late for that. I was going to do something about them myself on Friday. I actually thought of ... using the second spray potion they developed. Putting them out of their misery ... Although I doubt I could have done it, in the end. Anyway, I never got the chance to try. They've gone."

His father drew in his breath sharply and began pacing.

"I suppose you have no idea who might have taken them?"

Remus shook his head. He was silent for a time, and John faced him slowly.

"This isn't all, is it?"

"Isn't it enough for one night?"

"Not if there's more that I should know. Remus? Please ... trust me."

His son looked up at him steadily. "I do trust you, Dad. But you're not going to like this."

Sitting down again, John braced himself, as he thought, for anything that might be to come. "What is it?"

"The experiments with Doxies are over. All along, I think they were only planned as a kind of preliminary test to see how far it's theoretically possible to go, cross-breeding and controlling creatures. The Ministry's always been keen to do something more than that, really. Create something bigger. Cross-breeds with the muscles of trolls and brains clever enough to distinguish friend from foe, human vampires with control over when to give in to their urges and when not ..."

His voice trailed away, and for a moment John waited in vain for more. Then, suddenly, what Remus was hinting at sank in, and John turned deathly white.

"What?" he said in a choked voice. "You don't mean they're going to start experimenting on ... on ..."

"Part humans, as they call us. Yes," Remus said heavily.

"No!" John left his seat again abruptly. "No, enough is enough! This is going too far, they can't use human beings like ... like ..."

"The bits of flesh we are? Why not? They used Doxies, and they're no less alive than we are. Less sentient, perhaps - and then again, perhaps not. Who knows? And they've used vampires before. They're just going a step further now - a logical step, in their eyes. They've always wanted to experiment with larger creatures, cross-breeding them with 'part humans' ... and they have me at their fingertips."

John shook his head frantically. "You'll have to leave."

"If they start going too far, I will. For now, all they want is a couple of blood samples ..."

"Remus, you can't seriously be considering this. They'll never stop there, you must know that!"

"Yes, I know," Remus said calmly. "But you said yourself that we needed someone in that committee to keep an eye on things, and give warning when it was time to put a stop to it all, somehow."

"But I didn't mean ... good god, Remus, you know I never meant this! I can't let you go back there ..."

"Dad," Remus said urgently. "If I leave now, it will do no good. They'll find someone else. Someone who might feel more cooperative, someone who won't warn the Order when they really do go too far. They'll create god-knows-what with some other werewolf's blood and we won't be prepared. We have to keep an eye on what they're doing for as long as we possibly can. I'm not saying I like the idea of going back there and letting them use samples of my blood to run tests on for whatever it is they've got planned," he added slowly. "But I don't see that we have any choice."

"We could close down the committee."

"How, Dad? More than half the Ministry is in Voldemort's pocket."

"Are you saying you think he's behind this, not the Ministry?"

"I'm starting to wonder whether there's any difference."

John dropped onto the bed beside Remus and looked at him. He could see that his son's mind was made up, just as Remus could see that he had just given his father one of the hardest shocks of his life.

"It'll be all right, Dad," he said, perhaps trying as much to convince himself.

"Be careful, Remus," John whispered. "They may be willing to go further than even you can imagine. For god's sake, be careful."

* * *

The next morning, at about half past nine, Aunt Enid went to answer the front door without the least suspicion of what was to come. As always, she was pleased to see Frank. He surprised her by greeting her with a hug and a bunch of flowers.

"For me?" she exclaimed. "Oh, Frank, you shouldn't have!"

He smiled at the little lady. "Yes, I should. I need to butter you up a bit so you'll allow me to say what I'd like to - to your niece."

"Oh?" said Aunt Enid, then "Oh" again, as realisation dawned on her. "Oh, oh .... my dear boy ..."

"Please," he forestalled her. "I might yet get thrown out on my ear."

Aunt Enid, taking the flowers, pointed him to the living room, where Alice quickly withdrew her ear from the door and went to stand nonchalantly by the fireplace. Frank entered hesitantly and stopped in the doorway, catching his breath. Alice, he could see, had prepared well for the occasion. She was wearing a cream-coloured dress he had admired previously, and her shoulder-length hair - light brown rather than auburn since she had taken on the new name - glistened in the sunlight pouring through the window.

"Hello, Frank," she said, smiling with pleasure at the effect her choice of dress had produced. "So, has Aunt Enid said she'll marry you?"

"I ... err ..."

"She's fond of you, you know. Always has been. Anyway ... What happens now? Do we get straight down to it, or beat about the bush, talk about the weather and go for a nice walk first? Then you'd have a bit more time to plan it all."

A slow, embarrassed smile crept across his face.

"You're not going to let me live that down, are you?"

"Never," she promised. "Not in all the long years ... But I'm jumping ahead. Would you like to make it quick to spare your nerves?"

Frank hesitated, and Alice sighed.

"Here," she said, and placed a cushion on the floor in front of him. "Knowing you, this could take some time, and I don't want you getting sore knees."

She grinned mischievously, but when she saw Frank kneel down solemnly in front of her, all trace of a smile gone from his face, she too became serious. From his pocket, Frank produced a golden ring adorned by a sparkling diamond, and she felt her throat constrict.

"Alice," he began in a shaky voice. Then, with a faint smile, he went on quietly, using the pet name her aunt still used, and which he, too, had occasionally called her by in private in the months that had passed, "Rora ... I don't pretend to believe that I'm anywhere near good enough for you, or that I have much to offer you. I'm plain, unambitious, and a bit slow at times, but ... but I do love you. I love you with all my heart, and I promise ..."

"Stop," she interrupted him, her voice just as shaky.

Startled at the interruption, he did indeed stop talking and lowered the hand that held the ring. Was she about to throw him out, after all?

Her eyes filled with tears and she knelt down, facing him.

"Don't say you're not good enough for me," she whispered. "Don't say that, ever again. It isn't true. You are. You're awfully good for me. I love you. And don't look so worried. I've already accepted you." She gave a little laugh. "Darling, you didn't think I'd have put you through all this if I'd meant to refuse?"

"Well, I hoped not," Frank replied, his throat dry. "But you can be pretty unpredictable at times."

"And I have been known to be unfair to you before."

"No. You're a perfect angel."

"Hardly that. I could have told you my answer last night. I did tease you a bit."

"You had every right to. I behaved like a fool."

"It was sweet!"

"I was a coward."

"You were nervous."

"I was."

"Are you nervous now?"

"Shaking like a leaf."

"That makes two of us," she said with a grin.

Frank raised the hand that held the ring again. "Well," he said slowly, "since I'm under orders not to go on any more about how you could do much better than me ... I'll keep it short, but I still have to do it properly. After all, I promised."

"You don't have to, I'll have you anyway."

"But I want to. So ... dearest ... will you marry me?"

"I thought you'd never ask!" she exclaimed happily, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. "Of course I will!"

Then she sat back and let him slip the ring on her finger. She stared at it in wonder.

"It's magnificent. But it looks like a real antique, you shouldn't have gone to such expense ..."

Frank laughed. "Oh yes, in that part of my speech that I skipped, I was going to mention that you'd be marrying a man who's completely broke."

"Frank," she said, "be serious. This is an antique, isn't it? It must have cost a fortune, it's too much!"

"It's a family heirloom," he told her. "To tell you the truth, I didn't have to pay two Knuts for it. But if you'd rather have a new one ..."

"Are you kidding?" She held it up to the light. "I'm not giving this back! I think it's wonderful!"

"I think you're wonderful. I still can't believe you said yes. I didn't mean to suddenly rush into this. I was going to wait a while. But last night, when you said you and Sirius ... well ... I thought perhaps I had a chance ..."

She covered his lips with her finger and said, "You're starting again. I don't want you thinking I will ever, ever regret anything in marrying you. You have to believe me that it's what I want, because I can't bear to be without you. I want us to be together forever, no matter what happens. I want to be your wife, as soon as possible."

"As soon as you like."

"Tomorrow?" she suggested, and laughed when he looked stunned. "All right, sweetheart. The day after, perhaps. Whenever. I love you. Kiss me?"

"Love to," he said with a smile, and did so.