Three Animagi and a Werewolf

Chapter 35: Lines of Attack

After the Full Moon

Remus Lupin was dreaming. He was in a cage, his arms and legs felt heavy and he could barely move them. He looked down and discovered the reason - they were clapped in chains. He yelled, shook himself, tugged and fought in vain. Voices around him cried out, some excited, some frightened. Someone called out "It's awake!". It. Not "He". Faces appeared all around him, rows and rows of them, indefinable, unrecognisable faces without personality or emotion. The voices muttered. Hands held out devices, needles pricked him, and all around him were bottles and vials of blood and saliva and fur.

Suddenly, in the blink of an eye, he was no longer in the cage, but outside it, on the floor, looking up at the creature now chained there: a dog, big and black and rabid, foaming at the mouth, barking, snapping, biting the air until it was silenced by a flash of green light and died with a whimper.

Remus tried to look away, but only found himself facing another cage instead. Looking back at him was a small boy. His light-brown hair was limp and soaked with sweat, his face a sickly whitish-green, his eyes heavy-lidded, big, brown, wide, frightened. One side of his body was covered in blood. Pushing himself onto his knees, Remus crawled to the cage and pulled himself up by the bars to get a closer look at the child.

"A-are you ...?" he whispered, but his voice echoed all around him.

"I am you."

"No," he said shakily. "No, you're not. You were me ..."

"I am what was. I am what will be."

"No. God, no ..."

Remus broke off in a gasp. Before his eyes, the cage vanished. At the same time, the boy got to his feet. And then there were two of him. Then three, four, five, six - more and more, until he could see nothing else, wherever he looked. Far beyond them, a tall figure in black, swirling robes was watching, his burning red eyes the only part of him that could be seen. The children changed, no longer copies of one and the same boy, the child Remus, but children of varying ages, boys and girls, fair and dark and red-haired, and all of them began transforming, howling, screaming, sprouting fur and claws, and through it all rang the sound of an evil laugh.

Remus screamed, screamed until his lungs hurt, and then he rolled over onto his side, his eyes shut tight, but still seeing the blood, the horror ...

"Remus? Remus, wake up! Wake up!"

The voice that drowned out the sounds of the werewolves all around him, of the shrill, cruel laugh, was worried, urgent, and blissfully familiar. Remus tried to open his eyes, then shut them again immediately as sunlight blinded him. He groped unseeingly until a hand, warm and reassuring, grasped his firmly.

"Dad," he breathed hoarsely.

"I'm here, my boy. I'm here."

Remus waited a while and then risked an eye. His father was kneeling on the ground beside him, and not far away Remus could see the forest, golden and brown in a friendly October sun. With a groan and his father's help, he sat up and tried to survey the damage he had done to himself last night. He didn't get far. It was hard to tell where each particular patch of blood had leaked from.

With John's support, however, he made it from the little brick-walled hut that he had been using for transformations since he had become too old and strong to roam the woods freely to the sofa in the living room, and his mother's customary anxiety and ministrations. Soon he was all bandaged up, fed and wrapped in a blanket, and despite the apprehension he felt after his earlier dream, he soon drifted off to sleep again.

It was the early afternoon by the time he woke to the gentle music of the violin that played itself in the corner, to find his father sitting in his usual armchair reading a book. John looked up when he heard Remus stir, and laid his book aside.

"Feeling any better?" he asked solicitously.

Remus nodded.

"Can I get you anything?"

Looking around, Remus saw a glass of water on the coffee table. He reached out his hand, but John quickly rose, picked it up, and handed it to him. Remus drank it slowly, then passed the empty glass back. John set it down again, but did not return to his seat.

Instead he said quietly, "You seem to have had a particularly rough night. You were screaming when I woke you, you must have been dreaming. Do you remember anything about that?"

His son nodded slowly. He cleared his throat, testing his vocal chords. They were far from strong, and his voice was raspy when he said, "I saw ... a dog."

"The one you told me about? The one they brought in to test your blood on it?"

Remus hesitated. The dog his father was referring to had been a stray, and they had injected it with his blood without his knowledge, and much to his horror. It had been a small, brown-and-white mongrel, whereas the one in his dream had been large, shaggy, and black. It had been unique in his eyes. Only one 'dog' could look like that. But he could not explain all this to his father, so he merely nodded.

"What happened to it?"

"It died."

"In your dream? Or really?"

"Both. They killed it yesterday. The more the moon waxed, the more it was getting out of control."

"That wasn't your fault," John said quickly.

"No?"

"No. You said it yourself: if not your blood, they'd have used someone else's."

"What if they couldn't find anyone else?"

"They would, Remus. I'm sure you were right about that. Not everyone deals with this condition the way you do." There was a pause before he continued, "What else happened? It wasn't just the dog that made you scream, was it?"

Remus shook his head. "I saw ... myself. Back when ... it happened."

John's blue eyes filled instantly with pain as his son's words brought back the night that he would never forget for as long as he lived, that was in his mind almost constantly, as those closest to him knew only too well. He balled one hand into a fist.

"That night," he murmured. "If only ..."

"Don't, Dad," Remus said sharply. His voice sounded a little louder, stronger as he said it, but quickly dropped back to the level it had been before. "There were others ... children ... and ... Him."

John did not need to ask to whom Remus was referring. He returned to his chair and sat down.

After a while he said quietly, "Remus, I know we've been through this before, but I really think it's time you left there."

Remus gave a faint smile. "Soon, Dad. I just want to find out first what their next step will be."

"Promise me you'll leave the minute you sense danger."

"We'll discuss it this evening, at the Order meeting."

"Promise me, Remus," John repeated insistently.

"I promise," said Remus without further argument.

* * *

At Odds

The matter was indeed discussed at that evening's meeting of the Order of the Phoenix at Gryffindor Hall. The general consensus was on Remus's side, and so he agreed to stay on at least until the next full moon, to keep an eye on things and let them know if - as they all feared, but hardly dared to speak aloud - the Ministry should suggest taking the experiments a step further and attempting to contaminate and control humans, reasoning that their test on the dog had not worked simply because it was a dog.

The subject was about to be changed when Dumbledore passed the word to Dorcas Meadowes. She was to report about the sudden strange behaviour of some of the staff at St. Mungo's, who had lately been losing Muggle or Muggle-born patients through lack of care and overdosing. However, Sirius cut across her just as she was about to begin, ignoring the stern frown of a woman not accustomed to being unceremoniously interrupted, as well as Bridget's gentle reproof and Albus Dumbledore's quiet appraisal.

"Aren't you going to tell us anything else, Remus?" he said across the table, looking straight at his friend. "Isn't there something you've forgotten to mention? All this talk about dreams is all very well, but what about facts? What about that little chat you had with your superior that day, when you packed up late and Peter and I were supposed to be waiting in the Atrium?"

"Sirius," Alice put in reproachfully. "What are you talking about?"

He only shot her a brief glance before turning back to Remus. "I wasn't in the Atrium," he explained. "I came down to find you. And I heard you talking to him. What is he, a Death Eater?"

"I don't know," Remus said mildly, looking back at Sirius with a puzzled expression.

His voice was a little stronger than it had been that afternoon, and he had slept a lot during the day, but he still showed unmistakeable signs of the previous night's trials. Sirius, however, did not seem in the mood to make this easy.

"Why don't you tell everyone what he was saying?"

With a shrug, Remus said, "All right. He asked me my opinion of the Ministry's experiments. He said that the people in charge don't care what becomes of me, as long as they get the samples they want. That's nothing we didn't know already. We've been discussing just that ..."

"What about the rest though, Remus?" Sirius probed on. "He made you an offer, didn't he? He suggested you should join forces with other werewolves and - what was it - use the strength in you?"

"If you heard that," Remus said, a little more heatedly, "then you also heard that I refused. I really don't see what your point is, Sirius."

"My point, Remus," Sirius said sharply, "is that he offered you power that you turned down at first, and then pointed out what you want and can't have, and he told you to think about it and you said ..."

"I said I would think about it," Remus finished for him. He was becoming terribly conscious now of all the eyes fixed on him, and it made him uncomfortable. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that his father was itching to say something, but he silenced him with a wave of one bandaged hand. "I did think about it, Sirius. I thought about what it might mean, what exactly Macnair was hinting at. I thought about how I could use his offer to the Order's advantage, if he ever brings it up again - which he hasn't. I did not think about taking him up on his offer, except - possibly - for show."

"Oh, really?" Sirius said disbelievingly. "Then why the hell did you keep so damn quiet about it? Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"He did," Lily's voice broke in suddenly. She, like many others, had been studying Remus's face for the past few minutes, but now she turned her eyes on Sirius, and there was a look of defiance in them as she said, "He told me."

Remus tried not to look quite as startled by this statement as Sirius, who now asked, "When?"

"That very evening, when he was helping me in the kitchen. I noticed something was bothering him, and he told me."

There was a pronounced silence. Sirius was clearly flabbergasted. Everyone was surprised. Dumbledore was watching Lily. A smile spread across his face. He turned to Remus.

"While I agree with what I believe Sirius is trying to say, namely that it would have been advisable for you to inform the Order of this approach by Mr. Macnair, in retrospect I must say that you appear to have acted in the only way you could. From what you and Sirius have told us, I gather that you left him with a certain amount of ... hope that you might be amenable to his suggestion upon further reflection?"

"Yes, sir," said Remus, taking his eyes off Sirius at last, who was taking turns at looking angry, embarrassed, and completely baffled. "I tried to make it clear to him that I don't currently intend to do anyone harm - but that I might be persuaded with further incentive."

"You're mad!" Malcolm exploded. "What were you planning to do, act the double agent, when at every full moon you totally lose control and wouldn't be able to lift a finger to stop yourself from doing exactly what they want you to? Hell, Remus, look at me! Isn't that enough for you?"

"Darling ..." Bridget said gently, placing one hand on his arm.

Remus said quietly, "The thought did cross my mind at the time. But when I thought about it, I realised what you've just said. I don't have enough control for that. So if he makes a suggestion like that again, I shall say no."

"That would he highly unwise," Dumbledore pointed out. "And potentially dangerous."

"Hardly more so than biding my time watching the experiments proceed, ready to get out when they go too far," Remus remarked with a smile.

Dumbledore returned it. "True. We must trust to your judgement then. Now, if Sirius has nothing more to tell us ...?"

Sirius, now sitting slumped back in his chair with his arms crossed and a moody look on his face, shook his head.

"In that case," Dumbledore said pleasantly, "Dorcas, if you would ..."

* * *

"So ... Moony ... I ... err ..."

The meeting was over. As usual, some people were still in the room, talking. Some had already left, some were still on their way down. Sirius and Remus were up on the gallery, and Sirius was trying to do something that did not come easily to him. After a brief hesitation, Remus decided to help him. He smiled.

"Forget it, Sirius," he said quietly.

"It was just ... hearing you tell that git that you'd think it over ... and then you were so damned close, like you always are ... not telling anyone about it ... well, that's what I thought, anyway ..."

Remus felt himself stiffen a little at these words. "Sirius ..." he began, but Sirius was not finished.

"Ought to have more faith in my friends, shouldn't I? I suppose it just ... well ... buggers me a bit that you're always so damned right. You were right about Rory, after all. Anyway ..."

"I said forget it, Sirius," Remus said again, and reinforced it by shaking his hand.

At last, Sirius shrugged and grinned, then headed off down the stairs after Peter. Remus looked around him. He spotted Lily standing by the top of the stairs, waiting for James, who was still in the meeting room. He joined her with a tentative smile. Hers was as open and friendly as ever, tinged only with a hint of concern.

"You look so worn out," she remarked sympathetically. "You really shouldn't have come today, you look like you ought to be in bed."

"I'm all right," he assured her. "But Lily, I ..."

"If you want to thank me," he interrupted him swiftly, "there's an easy way of doing that. Next time anything happens, just tell us - don't make me lie. All right?"

He nodded. She kissed his cheek and gave him another one of her warm smiles, before zipping up her jacket. James was coming their way.

"Ready, sweetheart?" she asked him.

"I've been ready for hours, I was just waiting for you," James joked with a wink. He gave Remus a cautious pat on the shoulder. "Keep your pecker up, Remus. Oh, that reminds me ... have you told him about our plans for Saturday, Lily?"

"No, I haven't, now you mention it. Saturday - dinner - our place - oh, and Ellie's coming."

"Ellie? Not the Ellie?" Remus queried.

"The very same. She rung up last week, asked how you were," James said, grinning. "Should be an interesting dinner."

Remus rubbed his chin, pretending to look thoughtful. "I'm sure there was something else in my diary for Saturday ... something important ..."

Lily laughed. "Forget it. We're not letting you off the hook that easily. Besides, it'll give you a chance to put her off you, if you really don't like her. Bye now."

She slipped her hand into James's and they walked down the stairs together, through the front door and out into the night. It wasn't too cold, considering it was October, and they hadn't very far to go, so they decided to walk rather than apparate home.

When they had left the actual grounds of the Hall and were walking down a lane, James said quietly, "So, do I get to know why you've suddenly taken to telling outright fibs in a room full of people?"

She glanced at him from the side. "Are you very angry?"

"That rather depends, doesn't it? Why, Lily?"

"Because it was so totally unfair of Sirius, bringing it up the way he did. There are nicer ways of doing it. It was so ... accusing. If he was concerned, he should have just spoken to Remus about it, not chewed on it by himself till it became a sour taste in his mouth and then blurt it out like that in public. Did you see Remus's face?"

"I did."

"Well then."

"I know, Lily, but all the same ... you lied to Dumbledore, for heaven's sake!"

"Ha! And I suppose that's something you've never done. All those times you changed yourself into a stag and sneaked off into the Forbidden Forest with a dog, a rat and a werewolf ..."

"That was different! I never told him an outright lie ... I mean, I just kept it secret, I never said I wasn't doing any of that stuff."

"Well, I didn't lie to him either, not really. He never believed a word I said, so it doesn't count. Besides, it was partly true. I did know that Remus was troubled that evening, and I did speak to him about it. He just wouldn't tell me what it was."

They had reached the front doorbell, and James let go of her hand to find his key in his pocket. He unlocked the door, shaking his head in disbelief.

"You know, it is possible to be over-protective sometimes. And what about Sirius? You made him look a bit of an idiot, didn't you have any qualms about that?"

"It served him right and brought him back to his senses. In fact, it did him good."

"You really are rather fond of Remus, aren't you?" James commented, helping her off with her jacket and hanging it next to his own in the closet.

"I'm rather fond of Sirius, too."

"But you don't feel sorry for him."

"Yes, I do. For all his offhand manner, I know he really was in love with Ro... with Alice. I think she's better off with Frank, and I know Frank would be miserable without her. But I'm fully aware Sirius is by no means as tough emotionally as he makes out, and I do feel very sorry for him. Just not when he happens to be making a fool of himself."

"So, we've established the fact that you feel sorry for Remus and Sirius. How about Peter?"

"Ah." Lily shook her head sadly. "Yes, I feel sorry for him, too."

"For heaven's sake, Lily, why?" James said with a sound halfway between a laugh and an exasperated sigh.

"Because he'll never really fit in. He tags along, he tries to be part of the gang, and he's terribly sweet about it ... but he's not on your level. He's always been a bit below everyone else, what with being so much younger than his sisters, and having one who's so exceptionally good and one who turned exceptionally bad and being just ... average himself, and not all that skilled at anything much either. I think he could do with a lot more encouragement and affection than we ever give him."

"I see," said James. He put his arms around her waist and clasped his hands behind her back. "And now that you have analysed Moony, Padfoot and Wormtail to perfection, how about giving a little sympathy to Mr. Prongs? He could do with someone feeling sorry for him, too."

"Why on earth should I feel sorry for Mr. Prongs?" she asked playfully, sliding her arms around his neck. "Hasn't he got everything he wants? A rich and generous grandfather, a charming mother, a beautiful home, an adorable wife ..."

"Indeed, but he should still be pitied. Because that adorable wife of his is wasting precious time going on about how sorry she feels for a lot of other men when she should be doing something more useful with her lips, and he hasn't had a kiss for three hours. Mr. Prongs is in desperate need of encouragement and affection."

"Encouragement?" She laughed. "I hardly think you need any more of that. But the affection is something I can take care of."

"Lily?"

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Shut up."

They smiled at each other, and didn't say another word.

* * *

A Chill in the Air

On Monday evening, when the sun had almost vanished for the night and all the day's classes were long over, when she had finished checking the scrolls of parchment handed in by students earlier that day, Philippa Pettigrew went for a walk. She crossed the entrance hall, fastening her cloak as she went, passing a couple of students on the way.

"Good evening, professor," they greeted her, and she answered in kind, friendly as ever, but oddly rushed. "Professor, are you going out? It's raining!"

"I know, thank you. Good night."

She stepped through the great front doors and stopped, breathing in deeply, turning her face towards the dark sky to let the raindrops splash down on her. It was a wonderfully liberating feeling after being indoors for so long. Without a particular destination in sight, she began to take long strides across the grounds, her cloak trailing on wet autumn leaves, her straw-coloured hair becoming wetter as she went, strands of it sticking to her face. Eventually she found herself standing on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. She stepped under the canopy of autumn leaves, and the rain fell less heavily on her. Breathless, she leaned against a tree and stared ahead of her. The forest, dark and forbidding, fathomless in its depths, stretched before her and to either side. Somewhere in the night an owl was hooting and a wolf howled. The darkness went on endlessly, shifting now and then in the wind, leaves rustling, rain pattering. A hopeless, dreary expanse of blackness, utter and complete, without escape, seeming to beckon her on, but at the same time threatening to engulf her, suffocate her.

"'Ello! Is tha' you, Professor Pettigrew?"

The sound of the familiar, booming voice calling to her, sounding so very much of this world, startled her out of her dismal fancies and recalled her to reality. She turned her head to look to where it had come from, and saw the gigantic shape of the Hogwarts gamekeeper coming towards her.

"Good evening, Hagrid," she said pleasantly when he reached her.

Hagrid wiped his huge hands on his moleskin coat, leaving ominous brownish smears on it.

"What brings you out 'ere on an evenin' like this, professor?" Hagrid asked.

"I just came out for a breath of fresh air. Couldn't stand being cooped up back at the castle any more."

Hagrid's beetle-black eyes studied her a moment, then he said, "If you don' mind me sayin', professor, you look as though ye've got somethin' on yer mind."

"It's autumn, Hagrid," Pippa said with only half a smile. She looked back towards the forest. "It's autumn."

She gave a little shiver, and the big man said quickly, "Ye're soaked, ye'll catch yer death o' cold out 'ere!"

"It isn't the weather," she said, more to herself. Then, realising that he was still watching her with concern, she looked up at him again. "But it is a little chilly out here," she admitted. Glancing past him towards his cabin, she said, "You wouldn't have a cup of tea for me, would you?"

"O' course, o' course I 'ave. Follow me."

She followed. Hagrid pushed open the door of his cabin, and she preceded him into the warm interior, unfastening her cloak. Producing his pink umbrella, Hagrid quickly got a cheerful blaze going and hung a kettle over it. Soon Pippa was sitting with her hands pressed against the sides of a mug that was much to large for her, her wet cloak hanging over the back of a chair by the fire.

Her eyes swivelling back to the stains on Hagrid's coat, which now lay in a heap on the quilted bedspread, she asked, "So what were you doing out in this weather?"

"I was visitin' a friend o' mine," Hagrid said eagerly, apparently pleased that she had broken the silence that was becoming a trifle awkward. "Aragog. Took a treat along for 'im."

"Aragog?" she queried.

"Yeah. He's a very old friend, Aragog 'is. Known 'im fer years. I used ter keep 'im up at the castle, back when ... well ..."

He broke off, apparently embarrassed. Pippa decided it would be more tactful to ignore his embarrassment, and asked instead, "What kind of creature is he?"

"Spider," Hagrid said proudly. "Finest, biggest, most beautiful spider ye ever saw!"

"An Acromantula?" she exclaimed. "But ... they're dangerous, Hagrid. Category Five according to the Ministry of Magic's Classification ..."

"Ah, but don' they always exaggerate?" Hagrid said knowingly, wagging a very large finger at her. "I tell ye, Aragog's all right, 'e wouldn' 'urt nobody."

Still more than sceptical, Pippa murmured, "I'll take your word for it." A little more loudly, she said, "Do you know many creatures that live in the Forbidden Forest? You seem to spend a good deal of time in there."

"I know some," Hagrid said, not without pride. "The centaurs, fer starters. Not that it's much good tryin' ter 'ave a friendly chat with any o' them. They jus' go on about stars an' planets an' Mars bein' bright, that kind o' thing."

"Are you never afraid to go into the forest?"

"Afraid? Me? Of goin' in there?" He shook his shaggy head. "Nothin' in there fer me ter be afraid of."

Pippa blew on her still steaming tea and said, keeping her voice casual, "I've been thinking about taking a look round in there myself sometime, you'll have to tell me the best path to take."

Hagrid, who had already started drinking his tea, now spluttered and spat a good quantity of it out over the table.

"Now look 'ere, professor ..."

"Pippa. Or Philippa, if you prefer."

"Miss Pippa ...," he said, unable to quite give up the polite form of address. "The forest is safe fer me because I'm me, see? I'm big, and strong. There's not much could 'arm me. But ye're ..."

"I'm a pretty good witch. I wasn't asked to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts here for nothing."

"But why would someone like ye even want ter go in there?"

Gazing into the depths of her mug, Pippa said quietly, "Because I'd be afraid to. Because it's dark and frightening in there ... like the future. I feel that if I could only confront it, at a time of my choosing, it might become less terrifying."

"Someone like you shouldn' be thinkin' miserable thoughts like tha'. The future's not all bad," Hagrid said, his big voice softening. "One day, things'll get better again, back ter normal."

"Do you really think so? Do you think any of us will be alive to see it?"

"O' course. We've got Albus Dumbledore, 'aven't we? As long as we've got Dumbledore, we'll be all righ'. Now come on, Miss Pippa. Drink yer tea, an' I'm sure ye'll feel better."

Pippa looked up at him. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound so morbid. I suppose with Dumbledore's help, things should turn out all right in the end, shouldn't they?"

"They will. You mark my words."

She smiled. "If you say so, Rubeus," she said quietly, and began to sip her tea.

* * *

Severing Ties

It was Saturday morning, and the rain that had prevailed on Monday had hardly let up all week. But after having spent a month indoors, Josie decided she didn't care about the weather. She wanted to go shopping. She suggested at breakfast that her parents might drop her off at Diagon Alley, but her father said if she wanted to look around Diagon Alley, he would be staying with her. She couldn't have that. The last thing she wanted right now was company, especially her parents' company. She had had nothing but since the day she had thrown Severus out, and fond as she was of them both, she really needed to get away from them for a bit.

So, by about twelve o'clock, she had completed her tour of the Muggle shops in York, all by herself. She had bought a good few things, too, mostly clothes and makeup, which were now in the plastic shopping bags she carried. Now, somehow, she had ended up by the city wall again, in that same spot that had come to mean so much to her. People carrying umbrellas were rushing to and fro, passing her by, casting her odd looks owing to the shockingly bright red and green pattern of her hooded raincoat, but otherwise ignoring her.

*What are you doing here?* she asked herself, looking up at the wall where she had sat in summer two years ago, from where she had spotted that unusual and, to her, fatefully fascinating young man. *It's no good looking back now. What's done is done. Over. Forgotten. Just another memory to be chalked up to experience.*

But was it? The sound of slow footsteps on the wet ground behind her said otherwise. She knew he was there before he spoke.

"Josephine?"

"Go away, Severus."

"Why?"

She gave an exasperated sigh and turned around to face him. He looked the same as ever, just as he had looked on the day of their first meeting, on the day when she had told him to leave, and on every occasion since then when he had come calling at her door and she had refused to see him - and afterwards thrown the letters he had dropped through the letterbox into the bin without reading them.

"Severus, it's no good. Please understand that."

"How? How can I understand it? First, when I was reluctant, you seemed to keep wanting to see me. When we quarrelled, you came back. You led me on. My mother even seemed keen for us to be together. Now you won't talk to me, you won't let me in, you don't answer my letters ... and my mother suddenly tells me she thinks it's for the best. Why?" When she did not answer, he asked, "Is it because of what happened a month ago, that night ..."

"Yes. But not in the way you're thinking. It's because of what I found out about you that night. I know I should have known it before, it was stupid of me not to realise. But then I've been thinking that perhaps I did realise, only I didn't want to. You're one of them. I saw his mark on your arm. You're a Death Eater."

"Yes," he admitted slowly. "That's true. But you knew my views in that respect before. You knew I was in favour of the Dark Lord, and I knew that you were not. It made no difference ... to us. Why does my being a Death Eater change that?"

"Because it means more. You don't just agree with his crazy ideas about how being pure makes you better than all the rest, how everyone else is scum, it's not just talk - that mark means you've sworn to support this madness, doesn't it? You're bound to be loyal to him. Serve him."

"Yes, but I still don't see that that makes any difference," Severus argued. "You cannot reproach me for fighting for what I believe in."

"Yes, I can. I have to."

"You don't. My mother disagrees with my father in the same way, and yet ..."

"Oh, what a wonderful example!" Josie cried sarcastically, almost dropping her bags as she tried to throw up her hands in exasperation. "They're so happy, aren't they?"

"Well, all right," Severus admitted. "That was a bad example to bring up. But the reason it doesn't work in their case is because they don't ... they don't ..."

"What?" Josie asked very quietly. "Say it, Severus. Say the word."

"They don't love each other," he said just as quietly.

"And we do, is that your point? Are you saying you love me?"

"I ... I want us to ... I ..." Words failed him for a moment, and instead he slipped one hand into his pocket and drew out a very small, square box. "I bought this a month ago. For you."

Josie stared at the box, knowing what was in it. It cost her a lot of effort to shake her head and look back up at him.

"You don't know what you're suggesting," she told him. "All right, maybe you do care for me, to an extent. But you don't love me. Well, maybe you do - a little. But not enough. I'm sure you don't love me enough."

"Enough for what, Josie?" he asked, not knowing how hard he was making it for her to go on when, at last, he called her by the nickname she preferred, that she had wanted him to call her by for ages. "How much would it take?"

"Would you leave him for me?" she asked in return. "Would you break your vow to him, even though it might cost you everything, right down to your life?"

"What? Just because you disagree with his ideals."

"No!" she yelled at him. "Not because I disagree with his ideals! Because I am the enemy, Severus! I am one of those people you so despise, that you and your precious Dark Lord and all those other mindless slaves of his have sworn to destroy!"

"You're talking nonsense. You're a pureblood, you told me so."

"Yes, I'm a pureblood," she went on, her voice increasing in pitch so that heads of passers-by wondering what on earth these two young people were going on about turned their way, before the Muggles looked away again and hurried off, muttering amongst themselves. "You bet I'm a pureblood! A pureblood squib!"

Severus just stared. It was as though her words had immobilised him, turned him into some kind of incredibly lifelike statue. There was a long pause before he said, almost inaudibly, "That's not true ..."

"Yes, it is," Josie said quietly. "And you know it, or you will once you start thinking about it. When have you ever seen me cast a spell, or even carry a wand? When have I ever been the first to enter a place that was concealed by magic, without following you? You know the answer is never, Severus. So ... so think about it. Think about whether you care about me enough to break the oath you gave to hate me, and everyone like me. Think about what you'd do if your 'master' ordered you to kill me, as he might easily do. Do you love me enough to defy him? Would you turn around and lift your wand against him instead?" She shook her head. "I don't think you would. And that, Severus, is why that Dark Mark on your arm makes such a difference. I could live with a man who doesn't share my opinions. I could even live with a man who brags about how he'd help 'purify' the world if he was asked to. But I can't live with a man who's sworn to kill me for what I am."

"I wouldn't kill you, Josephine. I couldn't."

"But you could kill others like me. Maybe you already have. No," she forestalled him as he opened his mouth to speak. "I don't want an answer to that. There are some things I'd rather not know. And now, if you'll excuse me ... I have a train to catch, seeing as I can't apparate. Goodbye, Sev."

And with these words she turned around and walked away. She knew that he was watching her go, standing in the rain with that little box still clutched in his outstretched hand. But she knew equally well that he would not come after her.

After walking for a while, Josie turned down a narrow side street to take a short cut to the station. She was just passing a motorbike parked beside two large rubbish containers outside a run-down building when suddenly someone appeared as if from out of nowhere, apparently having come through the left-hand bin. He seemed as startled as she was to be suddenly confronted with another person, and started to curse at himself under his breath for not having been more cautious. Then he recognised her, at the same moment as she recognised the handsome face with the black hair and confident grey eyes, despite not having seen him for such a long time.

"Jo?" he exclaimed.

"Sirius! What are you doing here?" Then, remembering, she said, "Oh, of course. This is where the apothecary is, isn't it? The one run by your friend's dad. What's his name ...?"

"Peter Pettigrew. He's helping his dad out today. I just popped in to remind him about a dinner we're going to this evening. I ... suppose you wouldn't like to come? No, wait, stupid question. You and Snape ... right?"

For a moment, Josie shivered. But then she produced a fairly convincing smile as she said, "No, actually. Not any more."

Sirius heaved a sigh. "Well, that's a relief. So ... would you like to come this evening? I could pick you up about seven," he offered eagerly, indicating his motorbike.

Josie stared at the machine in awe. "Wow, that's fantastic. I'd almost say yes, just for the ride. But I haven't been invited to this dinner you're going to."

"Yes, you have. By me. Don't worry, James and Lily always count on me bringing ... I mean, they never mind an extra guest or two," he amended. "The more, the merrier. Oh, but we have to act Muggle tonight, because Lily's got an old school friend of hers coming. Is that okay?"

"No problem," Josie assured him, hiding the pang this painful reminder caused her. "See you at seven then."

She prepared to walk on, but he said, "Hold on, I don't know where you live. Why don't I give you a ride home now, and you can show me?"

She hesitated, then shrugged and said, "Great. Let's go."

* * *

Lily was just putting the finishing touches to her chocolate gateau when James came in and presented himself for her approval. He was dressed, as was she, in Muggle clothes, and he was trying to tidy his hair with his fingers. Lily laughed.

"Stop that," she said, ruffling his hair with one hand and waving her wand at the gateau with the other, so that it flew obligingly onto the sideboard.

James shook his head and clucked his tongue. "Tut tut. Magic? We're about to receive a Muggle guest!"

"Oh, Ellie's always late," Lily said, then she added, "but Remus isn't." The doorbell had just rung.

James went to answer it, and found that Lily had been right. Remus, too, was wearing Muggle clothes, as was Peter when he turned up soon after. Sirius arrived only ten minutes late, announcing his presence with an extra loud roar of engines outside the front door. No one was really surprised to see him turn up with a girl, although they all had to conceal some amount of concern as they remembered where they had seen Josie before. If they had known her better, they might have realised that Josie's appearance tonight was, by her standards, rather subdued - pale blue bell-bottom jeans, a frilly white blouse and only a small amount of mascara and red lipstick. Sirius was quick to inform them all that Josie and Severus Snape were no longer an item. It was doubtful whether anyone but Lily could tell, from Josie's expression, that she would have preferred not to have it brought up. She hooked her arm through Josie's and showed her to the living room, where they all made themselves comfortable while they waited for the last guest still missing.

James was playing host with the sherry bottle when the doorbell rang again.

"That'll be Ellie," Lily said, lighting the last of the candles on the dining table. "Be a dear and let her in, will you, Remus?"

He gave her a look. "Lily, I'm not ..."

"I'm not asking you to greet her heartily and sweep her off her feet, I just want you to open the door," Lily replied as another ring resounded.

Remus gave in and did as he was told. Drinking her sherry in almost one gulp, Josie asked Sirius, "So this Ellie - she's the Muggle friend, right?"

"Yes, a school friend of Lily's. Looks like she took a shine to Remus at their wedding. Can't think why, as far as I can remember he hardly took any notice of her."

"I take it from his reaction that he's not interested."

"No. Shame, really, because as far as I remember she's rather a corker." He chuckled. "You know, that's probably the first time I've said that about a girl to another girl."

"I don't mind," Josie said, smiling. "So, if she's so pretty, what's wrong with her? There must be some reason why he isn't interested."

"Yes. He's got this thing about girls. Likes to keep them at a safe distance. No romance, not even a bit of flirtation. He's the full works or nothing type, and he made up his mind a while back to settle for nothing because he thinks he'd be too much to handle."

"Why does he th..."

James, who had been about to intervene, was spared the job of doing so by the opening of the living room door.

"Shh," Sirius hissed. "Muggle alert."

Ellie made an entrance, there was no other way of describing it. Her blonde curls framed her face beautifully and she had chosen a dress that matched the colour of her eyes to perfection. She was charming to everyone, chatting and laughing. She and Josie got on particularly well. Remus, however, grew more and more quiet as the evening proceeded, and yet Ellie remained particularly persistent where he was concerned.

"You do know you're going the wrong way about it, don't you?" Lily said to Remus, catching him alone in the kitchen after dinner.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Well, I thought your plan was to put her off. Make it clear to her that you're not interested, stop her thinking about you ... I mean, you're not interested, are you?"

"Of course not! I've been trying to make that clear as much as possible without being too impolite, but it doesn't seem to be working. I'm trying to keep a polite distance ..."

"Wrong tack."

"What?"

"You're leading her on."

"I'm ... what? How do you mean?"

With a sigh, Lily began explaining, "By being polite, but distant, you're making yourself interesting. Cool and distant equals mysterious. Mysterious equals intriguing. And intriguing means you're in trouble. Try being charming and witty."

"We are talking about the right way to get rid of her?"

"Yes."

"But ... Sirius does 'charming and witty' all the time and practically has to fight off the girls."

"That's because he's Sirius. You're Remus."

"I know," he said with a hint of exasperation. "Your point being ...?"

"For Sirius, charming and witty works. For you, cool and distant does the magic."

"If you say so," he said, confused. He picked up the wineglass he had just refilled for Ellie after she had begged him to do so with a particularly extensive flutter of the eyelids, and added thoughtfully, "Lily?"

"Yes?" she responded, taking a bottle of water out of the fridge.

"Are you saying that I'm ... well ... not ..."

"Charming or witty?" she guessed with a smile. "I didn't say that. Of course you are ... or you can be. But it takes a while to discover that. Cool and distant is what gets you a girl's attention in the first place."

"And with Sirius, it's the other way round? He goes from charm and wit to mystery?"

Lily laughed. "No, it doesn't work that way round." Seeing that he was still looking immensely confused, and even slightly troubled, she added, "Look, Remus. If it's any comfort, what I'm trying to say is that Sirius is attractive and fun to be with for a time, but most girls eventually lose interest in him. You, on the other hand ... you can get a girl intrigued enough that she wants to know more about you. You take some exploring, but it's worth it. Of course, it makes you long-term."

"Me, of all people?" he said doubtfully.

"Yes. You'll find that out some day, when the right girl comes along."

"Lily, you know I don't intend ever to ..."

"Never mind what you intend," Lily cut across him. "One day you'll come across someone you really like - more than you ever liked Heather, even - and then we'll see. Especially if she happens to have a bit more spirit and determination. She'd need that with you."

Not wishing to begin an argument about the existence or non-existence of his future love life, Remus changed the subject slightly.

"So, what category does James fall into?"

Lily smiled and blushed a little. "There's no category for James. He's just plain gorgeous - the best of everything, you know? Cool, charming, distant, witty ... there's a lot of diversity with James."

"Diversity. So ... you're saying I'm dull?" he asked, but there was a twinkle in his eyes, and Lily laughed.

"What's going on here?" Sirius asked, joining them just then.

"That's none of your business," Lily said, still laughing.

"It is. If there's any fun going around, I want some. So, what were you saying?"

"We were laughing at you behind your back," said Lily teasingly, and she patted him on the arm and went back to the living room.

Sirius shook his head with a mock frown. "I've said it before, and I'll say it again. She's a devil, that one."

"You just say that because you've never been able to dazzle her," Remus commented, grinning to himself.

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Oh yes? Hm. Well. Whatever. Let's talk about you and the Muggle."

"Do we have to?"

"She's a menace, isn't she? You know, if you're interested, I could give you a few hints."

"No thanks, Sirius, I ... wait," Remus interrupted himself, remembering what Lily had said about Sirius's methods not working for him. "You mean you'll tell me how to be ... erm ... charming and witty?"

"Yes."

Smiling, Remus pulled up a chair. "All right. Go ahead."

Sirius seemed a little surprised, but sat down opposite Remus and said, "Well, for starters, you need to talk a bit more. Tell her some jokes - oh, no, hold it. This is you we're talking about. You don't do jokes."

Remus ignored the comment. "Go one."

"Tell her some stories. Prank stories. Leaving out the magic, of course. Although ... you know, a little bit of magic could work wonders. Just a couple of the simplest spells on a pack of cards, for instance, will make her think you're a whizz at magic tricks. And when you've been on a few dates, if you get tired of her, you just tell her you're a real wizard and she'll think you're a nutjob and do a bunk. Well, that's what I'd do to get rid of her. You could just tell her you're a werewolf, of course, and ... oops."

It seemed to be a great evening for sudden entrances in the kitchen. They both looked up now to see Josie standing in the doorway. She spent a few seconds staring first at one, then at the other of them.

Then she flashed a sudden smile and held out her empty glass, "Is there any more of that sherry about?"

Sirius obliged quickly. Josie took a sip and said to Remus, "You'd better head back into the front room before Ellie comes looking for you. She really seems to fancy you, you know. Oh, and I think you ought to know your friend Peter seems to fancy her - unless he's just had too much wine. It's all getting a bit involved, isn't it?" she chuckled.

"Josephine," Remus began. "Let me explain ..."

"What's to explain? So, you're a werewolf," she said bluntly. "I knew that already, actually. Well, so what? I'm a squib." She shrugged. "No one's perfect, right?"

Remus was about to answer her, but then he caught the stunned look on Sirius's face, and he just couldn't help it. He laughed. And this time, Sirius got his wish - he was able to join in the laughter.

Lily thoroughly enjoyed herself for the rest of the evening. Her talk with Remus in the kitchen, plus Sirius's conversation with him afterwards, had worked wonders. Remus and Sirius seemed to be competing for the Chief Clown of the Evening cup, overdoing each other as they regaled Ellie with carefully edited tales of their school day pranks, and it particularly amused Lily to see that Remus, though reluctant at first, was clearly thoroughly enjoying this playful contest with Sirius, while Ellie was visibly losing that glow in her eyes when she looked at Remus. There was a point when the attractive blonde began ogling James instead, but Lily quickly reminded her old friend that this was her husband by kissing him so extensively in front of them all that even Josie blushed.

The evening ended with a friendly game of Snap! (non-exploding), and Ellie surprisingly asking Peter to take her home, upon which he had turned the exact shade of beetroot and walked in the door on his way to the hall. Lily had escorted him to the bathroom and, securely away from Muggle eyes, healed the bruise forming on his forehead with a charm, then applied a plaster to disguise the lack of a wound. When the unlikely pair had departed, Sirius flung himself down on the sofa.

"Well, that was a hoot," he remarked. "Now, how about a nice, peaceful game of gobstones?"

They played until well after midnight, then Remus said he must be going and Josie, yawning, begged Sirius to take her home before she got too tired to stay on his motorbike.

"So, what do you make of the evening's developments?" James asked Lily when everyone had left.

"Perfectly satisfactory. Ellie did keep going on so about Remus, and the last thing he needs is a Muggle interested in him. And it was about time Peter learned what it's like to go out with a girl, and a Muggle is just perfect for him, because he's not that clever with impressive spells."

"Did you plan this all along?"

"Not entirely," Lily confessed. "I hadn't reckoned on Josie."

"Nice girl. Not exactly Sirius's usual type though."

"Does he have a type? I thought anything that fitted the standard shape was acceptable to him."

"No, they've got to be pretty."

"She is."

"Not his kind of pretty. Besides, he doesn't fancy her. He said so."

"When was that?"

"Err ... I don't know. When did we last see her?"

Lily shook her head amusedly. "That was a long time ago. Well, he certainly likes her, you've got to admit that, at least. And I'll admit that he's different with her. Not so show-offish."

James shrugged and yawned widely. "See? I told you he's not interested. That proves it," he pronounced decidedly.

Just at that moment Sirius, just as decidedly, was reminding himself of the same thing. He remembered, very clearly, that day when he had met Josephine and warned her about Snape. He remembered feeling that he had no feelings for her. That had been oddly relaxing to discover. He wished he could feel as relaxed now, as she climbed off his bike and thanked him for the lift. He bit his lip, determined not to say anything more other than goodbye.

But he found himself calling after her, "Hey, Jo!"

"What's up?" she asked, turning back at the front door.

Not having meant to speak at all, he found it hard to find anything to say now, and ended up stammering, much to his own annoyance, "Ah ... I ... wondered if ... well, if you're interested in motorbikes ... we could take a ride ... sometime when the weather's a bit better?"

"What, like next summer?" she teased, then laughed when he looked disappointed. There was a pause while she seemed to think it over. Then she came back and said with unusual seriousness. "Look, Sirius ... I only really broke up with Severus today. Well, I suppose it's yesterday now. I mean, I decided to much longer ago, but ... we've only just had it out. So, if you don't mind, I'm not really interested in ... you know ..."

Sirius said quickly, "I get it. Just a ride, I promise. Anywhere you want, as long as you want. When you get fed up, I'll take you home at once."

She suddenly grinned at him. "I bet you say that to all girls, right?"

"No, actually," he said earnestly. Then he added more jovially, "Only the ugly ones."

Any other girl might have been offended, he realised. Josie laughed and pretended to hit him over the head.

"Buzz off, thickhead!" she said, and let herself in just as he revved up the engine.

* * *

Flight of the Aurors

When Bridget woke, looking at the clock and discovering that it was only four o'clock, she sighed heavily. All these disturbed nights weren't doing either of them any good. She said a short prayer that, once they had been able to speak to young Mr. Diggory, things would improve. She yawned and sat up. It was only then that she realised what was wrong. That is, not wrong exactly. But not as expected. Waking up in the middle of the night, she automatically assumed Malcolm was having a bad night. But he wasn't. He was lying by her side, breathing evenly. Bridget was just trying to puzzle out why, in that case, she had woken up, when she heard the knocking on the front door. She waited, but it did not stop. She glanced at Malcolm. He hadn't stirred. The knocking continued. Bridget got up and reached for her wand. She went to the front door and looked through the spyhole. Then she opened the door.

"Mundungus!" she exclaimed. "What on earth ...?"

"No time to chat," Mundungus Fletcher said breathlessly, breathing a lot of tobacco on her. "I come 'ere first 'cause it was nearest, got to go to Dumbledore next. Where's Malcolm?"

"He's in be..."

"No. I'm here," said a voice behind her. "What's going on?"

"Bad news," Mundungus announced. "I was out 'aving a drink with a chum of mine."

"At four in the morning?"

"Well ... well, we was 'aving it at 'is place. Anyway, we was just 'aving a chat, like, and suddenly 'e mentions that 'e's over'eard something that I might find interesting, 'e says. Course, 'e won't tell me unless ..."

"Mundungus," Malcolm said, "get to the point."

"Point? Oh, yes, right ... well, it cost me ..."

"We don't want to hear how much it cost you, Dung!" Malcolm said, raising his voice. "What did he say?"

"They're going for the Ministry today. You-Know-'oo's lot."

Bridget gasped. "The - the Ministry? Are you sure? But ... I thought they had as much influence there as they can get anyway, why ..."

"They're not bothered with small fry, my ... ah ... friend says. It's the Aurors they're after."

"The Aurors?"

"It was to be expected, I suppose," Malcolm said heavily. "He wasn't going to suffer a whole department at the Ministry opposing him without doing something about it sooner or later. What's his plan?"

"Some of the Death Eaters are going to the Ministry early, in about 'alf an hour, to get rid of the night watch. They'll be waiting for the other Aurors when they come in. And anyone 'oo tries to 'elp them."

Bridget turned to look at Malcolm. "Is there any way the Aurors could win this fight?"

He shook his head. "No. He'll make sure of that. The only thing they can do to save themselves is not turn up for work today."

"Can we contact them all in time?"

"All except the night watch, perhaps. If ..."

"If what?"

"If I can convince Barty Crouch," Malcolm said, turning back into the bedroom.

Bridget turned to Mundungus. "You're sure it's just the Aurors they're after? Anyone else, as long as they keep out of any fighting ... they'll be all right?"

"That's what my chum said."

"Right."

Bridget followed Malcolm into the bedroom, and followed his example by dressing hurriedly.

"We've got to warn John," Malcolm said. "And ..."

"I know. I'll see to it. I'll let John know, he can warn Peter and the others ... You just go and see Crouch, and make sure he warns the rest of the Aurors. I'll meet you at the Ministry."

"You're not going ahead there without me!"

"Malcolm, I'm not planning on doing any fighting. I'll just warn them and get out."

He shook his head. "I've got a better idea. I'll see to that, before I go to Crouch."

"Darling ..."

"You stay with John, Bridget. Please," he insisted. Bridget opened her mouth to protest, but he kissed her before she could say any more. "Let's go!"

* * *

Malcolm had been relieved to find Laura Lovegood at home. For several horrible minutes, he thought that she might be on night duty at the Ministry. He did not have time to go to the Ministry himself and convince whoever was there now to ignore Barty Crouch's orders and get out while they still could. Laura knew immediately that something was wrong. Malcolm explained quickly.

"So you see, there's no way the Aurors can win this fight. Voldemort will have made sure he sends enough Death Eaters, and ..."

"I'll warn them. You're right, you've got to go to Crouch ... I hope you can convince him."

Malcolm nodded. "Good luck, Laura. And be careful."

She smiled. "Don't worry about me."

* * *

Bartemius Crouch was a proud and stubborn man. Consequently, he and Malcolm had a long and loud argument. Malcolm was beginning to give up hope of ever persuading Crouch to accept the fact that this was a fight his Aurors could never win, and the only way to save them was to contact them all and tell them not to go to work. Then Crouch's wife joined them. She looked pale and frightened. But, much to her husband's fury, she believed Malcolm. It was thanks to her insistence that Crouch finally produced a file full of the names of every Auror that worked for him. Crouch contacted all the ones he could via the floo network. To the rest, they wrote notes. This, Malcolm realised, was going to take a lot of owls. So he apparated to Hogsmeade and hammered on the postmaster's door.

At five o'clock, he apparated outside his sister and brother-in-law's house. Bridget was outside the front door, waiting for him anxiously.

"Well?" she asked.

He nodded. "They've all been warned. And here?"

Bridget nodded too. "John, Remus, Peter and Lily will be going to work as usual. But if anything happens, they'll keep well out of it. Hopefully, though, with no Aurors there, the Death Eaters won't see the need to start a fight. That is ... what about the night shift?"

"I sent Laura to warn them."

"Malcolm!" John called just then, coming out of the house. "A call for you. It's Laura Lovegood."

Malcolm hurried into the house and into the living room, where Faith and Remus were standing around in their nightwear. He was relieved to see Laura's scarred face in the fireplace. "Did you get out all right?" he asked her.

"Yes. Just. They were arriving just as we were leaving, but we got out via the emergency escape."

"Good. Where are you now?"

"Moody's." She paused, then added softly, "Thank you, Malcolm."

He smiled. "Good night, Laura. I'm glad you're safe."

She nodded. "I'm all right. Well ... good night."

"Good night," he replied.

Laura's face vanished, and Malcolm dropped onto the sofa, exhausted. Bridget sat down next to him and snuggled against him. There was a long pause. Finally Faith said in a weak voice, "Tea, anyone?"

Everyone nodded. Faith left the room. Bridget looked up at Malcolm. He said with a faint smile, "Bet you're glad I'm not an Auror any more."

"Not at all," she lied, not very convincingly, and kissed him.