Remus Lupin and the Revolt of the Creatures

Chapter Seventeen: Foolhardy Decisions

Frank held out his seemingly empty hands. The invisible creature evidently struggled and kicked, as he pressed it firmly back against his chest and, instead, took one more step across the withered grass and dry leaves towards Remus and the parchment he had conjured.

To Remus's surprise Frank no longer looked like only half the man he had been as an auror. Lack of exercise may have made him lose the athletic muscularity, but the determined grip of his fingers resembled the way he had handled the beater's bat. He was no longer slouching like at St Mungo's. Above all, the characteristic calm he had preserved through all these years, when isolating himself within the wrecks of his mind, was now reaching out in obviously intentional reassurance. He was, indeed, whispering to an invisible ear, and soon one of his hands ventured to relax to a caressing stroke. Frank and his pet were evidently now both staring at the Secret Keeper's writing, as they had been advised to.

"We have to wait for a moment," Remus said.

Frank did not spare him a glance or a nod. The two - or rather three - of them remained immobile, while the heat of magic escaped the parchment and disappeared into the chill of the fair morning, leaving a dim glow in the words.

In situations like this one Remus wondered if it would have been wiser to get rid of the Fidelius Charm. Perhaps he should have relied solely on the magic of the elves, even though it was bound to remain mysterious, the scope of its protection unpredictable. Dumbledore may have actually guessed that some of those to join Remus would be illiterate - but also known that they could enter, as long as they were able to focus on the image of the text and to repeat in their thoughts what one among them had read aloud. The wats and other such creatures who never possessed conscious, human-like minds would not be affected by the charm at all.

Against Remus's expectations Frank seemed to understand so well what they were supposed to do that he was eager to share this with his beloved pet, too. This was quite remarkable progress in his recovery, as in August he had still not even pointed at objects in the way one-year-old children did so as to share contents of their minds. His wife, instead, was hard to be kept focused.

Fortunately Alice had, according to Nymphadora, grown attached to Mrs Hopchin at the moment when she had tumbled from the fireplace into arms which in her eyes obviously belonged to Granny. The hard-working auror had been compelled to hurry to another mission, and in any case Remus was determined to manage to take these friends to their new home. Watching the two white heads approach among the trees, he felt gratitude for the fact that Mrs Hopchin was far less senile than she pretended to be. She was even nimble enough to catch Alice and, above all, excellent at persuading her to return instead of wandering further along the slopes.

Remus could hear the tender words ring clear and uncompromising in the still, crisp air. "There we go. This is a lovely path. Nice dry leaves to kick at. Just let me hold your hand; it's wide enough for the two of us. Frank and Remus are waiting for us. And then you'll just look at the parchment and listen to me. Then close your eyes and remember what it was."

Alice came bouncing the last stretch of the path, dragging the little old lady behind her. Now she was standing almost too close, beaming at Remus. The frequent albeit brief outings in London had improved her health. And this latest scampering across the orchard had flushed her cheeks. As if the warmth of summer had returned and approached Remus, fragile and unreliable.

"Grandpa's home. Alice look, and listen." She was still staring at his face.

So as to show an example, he bent to look at the parchment he was holding. Mrs Hopchin guided her attention by pointing at the text, finally proceeding to indicating each word in turn and to uttering them with emphasis.

Alice ran up to the front door first and found her wat as well as Neville there, waiting for her. She scooped up the wat and curtseyed to this handsome young man.

Neville did not mind. He hugged her and Remus was close enough just in time to hear him whisper, "I am Neville, your son. Welcome to your new home, Mum." Meeting Remus's gaze, he bit his lip, but his smile or voice did not falter when he pulled Frank to a half-hug. "Welcome home, Dad. And Mrs Hopchin... Thank you so much. I'm Neville Longbottom."

"Well, I think I'm going down to my house now... But it's good to know I can get here, if someone has a message or some needs, you know. And you can all drop by any time. That keeps the flue well-swept. Good-bye, Mr Wotton, Mr Longbottom... and Mr Longbottom. Be a good girl, Alice."

Mrs Hopchin had turned to stump along the lane towards the village, before Remus had time to insist that she stay for a while.

"She called you Mr Wotton," Neville said.

"Oh, perhaps she likes to think I'm my father. But let's go in and show your parents around."

Neville stepped to the middle of the floor with arms around his mother's and father's shoulders and with his head high. Was he prouder of them than before? In any case he was now proud of himself. Perhaps this situation - and what he had learnt about his ability to help others learn - allowed him to regard himself as old enough to have parents who needed to be taken care of. His parents' tragedy actually made him appear more grown-up than some others of his age.

That was, of course, sad every time: that a child was forced to grow up too early. But Neville could bear it, and perhaps he would not even be harmed by not admitting that it was a loss, if he had support from others who were more grown-up. From his grandmother, and Brünnhilde...

***

"Remus, I'm afraid Jonah needs you. He's... worried about his mother."

Disappointed by Harry's absence, Remus had been about to leave his old room. It was getting late, and he no longer felt his presence was necessary or desirable. Neville's words, however, stopped him at the door for a moment.

The two of them had combined their magic to achieve a further enlargement spell, and to conjure a reliable partition wall so as to secure some privacy for Frank and Alice. Neville had reassured Remus that a single wide mattress on the floor was quite good enough a bed. The most serious doubts about the adequacy of his hospitality had been banished by memories of the flats which some young people, having moved together soon after leaving Hogwarts, had shared during the first war.

Alice had, indeed, waved cheerfully goodbye to both Neville and Remus and pulled Frank to sit down on the mattress. Neville was to stay firmly until morning in the part of the room he shared with the three other boys, so that he would be available in case his parents needed anything, but now he could spare a thought for someone else.

"Jonah?" Remus asked. "You mean... He did not ask you to tell me, did he?"

"No, but he told me... After dinner when we were arranging the herb storage. Mum and Dad were helping, too, and it was all nice, but... I don't think it's only that he wishes his mum were here, too. It sounds like something bad has happened."

"I'll... Thank you, Neville."

***

Without Neville's hint Remus might have done his best not to overhear the conversation in a bedroom he passed on his way to the kitchen. Rose's voice had such an irritated and evasive tone that he would have actually liked to disapparate.

"It's no big deal. Mum's better off without him."

Now he had to stop, and he knocked on the door before Jonah had finished replying, "But... you can't want him to..."

The boy was leaning against the wall, next to the door. He looked as pale as when Remus had seen him for the first time. As if in desperate search for solace he blurted out immediately, "Dolly's dad has joined them - the Special Security Corps."

" Excuse me... Can I... can we sit down?"

Rose was sitting on the edge of the bed, straight-backed and frowning. She hardly glanced at Remus before she closed her eyes. Simon had settled cross-legged behind her, and he was lighting up a cigarette. The click of a Muggle lighter revealed to Rose what he was doing, and she opened the window with an irritated wave of her hand. The draft drove the smoke first towards Remus. Simon was smoking something he had obviously got from Tumble. The black hair fell over his eyes when he leant against Rose's back and wrapped an arm around her, shivering in the cold breeze as he was wearing only a t-shirt.

"There's nothing to talk about," Rose said. "Or to do - to stop him. He's already got wounded, so he's no good for Umbrigde anymore."

"We can get information from him, if... Is he in the Ancient Village?"

Rose shrugged. "If you order me to go and look for him, to interrogate him, I'll go. Mum told Thisby that they sent him back to the village."

"No, I'm going with Jonah. Good night, Rose... Simon."

Remus was not sure if Jonah was in any better position than Rose to gain his stepfather's confidence, or if the two of them would even manage to find him. In any case Jonah would have the chance to check at his mother and baby sister.

Leaving the room and walking through the kitchen towards the main door, Remus waited in vain for Jonah to catch up and step by his side. "I'd better apparate - not show myself at the White Thestral. But we just have to trust that nobody will pay too much attention to you. Is it all right we'll meet on your mother's yard? I'm coming along to Mrs Hopchin's house in any case."

There was no response - as if each of them was bound to remain alone. Perhaps the two of them had ended up going out because they hoped to keep themselves busy through the lonely dark hours.

The waning crescent moon would not rise until after midnight. The sky was almost clear, but having left behind the circle of light spilling out from the house, Remus found it hard to see anything. Still, his feet did not hesitate on the familiar lane, since the ground was hard. The sound of the dry leaves crushing under his shoes made him imagine that they were already covered with frost, too - imagine the sparkle they would attain, if it were the time of full moon. But October was still warmer than April, and the temperature was pleasant enough for anyone who was not to spend the whole of each night outside.

"Do you know more than I heard?"

Jonah must have shaken his head before Remus turned to glance at him.

Mrs Hopchin's garden was bordered by the wooded slope, and heavy curtains had been drawn to keep the path to the back porch in complete darkness. As soon as Jonah, too, had climbed the few steps, the door opened a crack. The two of them slipped in, and Mrs Hopchin led them through the kitchen towards the sitting room.

As the flickering light from the stove played on her wrinkled skin, her face looked cunning. "Too bad you didn't bring Alice for late-night tea, too. I hope she hasn't got lost."

"No, Alice is safe..." Remus reassured her, without trying to hold back a smile. "At home with her husband and son."

Mrs Hopchin nodded and pushed them in. "We'll be a nice little party in any case. Harry! You won't have to get bored with me and just read your parchments."

Harry was standing in front of the fireplace, clutching a book and a couple of rolls of parchment against his chest.

"Well, hello, Harry. I'm glad you haven't escaped further than this." Remus heard his own voice calm and gentle, while both irritation and strange joy swelled in him.

Harry, in turn, replied in a resentful tone, "So Neville told you where I'd gone."

"No... But that at least was wise of you: to let someone know."

"I just wanted to have some privacy. You advised me to concentrate on these exercises..."

Harry had obviously not managed to leave behind his worries and his desire to isolate himself. In practice the point was that he was putting himself in potential danger when breaking the conditions of his excursion from Hogwarts. But Remus could not help feeling rejected. In turn, while mentioning only a fact, he could point out that he had not devoted himself to their relationship, either.

"We didn't come looking for you. I didn't think it would be necessary to explain to you why you must stay at the Wotton estate. Now I must take you back... Jonah, I'll apparate to our meeting place by the time you've walked there from the pub."

"All right. Can I have some floo powder, Mrs..."

"But I don't want to go back yet," Harry cut in. "The house is crowded and I don't really care for that crowd."

Perhaps Harry's openly disdainful glance at Jonah hid some jealousy, too. In any case, this shameless attitude urged Remus to make abruptly a further reckless decision.

"I've changed my mind. Mrs Hopchin, would you please take Harry's parchments and keep them safe and secret. They're private and precious. Harry, you're coming with us. To see some more crowds."

***

Fortunately Harry, at least, was wearing a cloak with a hood. He was pulling the fabric to cover not only his forehead but his nose, too, when the three of them pushed their way through the ragged crowd at the White Thestral. Remus was tempted to linger at the pub longer than necessary only in order to make the boy suffer from the stench.

Perhaps that was why he did not get appropriately alarmed and did not consider alternative ways of acting, when Jonah grabbed his arm and made him halt.

"Mum's here. And he's with her. Kostas, I mean - Dolly's dad."

Mrs Ditcher in her purple fake fur coat was not hard to spot, even though she was not facing them. She was sitting at a table not far from the fireplace, leaning lightly on a man with a bandage around his dark head.

Without hesitating Remus turned towards the couple, with Jonah now walking in step with him, and expecting Harry to follow. "Tell me immediately if you see Ministry men around, in uniform or without, as you can recognise the faces..."

In fact, the same recruiters were not likely to keep returning to this community. They had probably realised that they had already got the volunteers they could hope to get here - some members of the older generation, while the young witches and wizards had turned out unexpectedly reluctant or hard to be found at all in the neighbourhood. Instead, there could be some of these new recruits around, trying to catch or otherwise harm the dissidents, and Remus had advised his protégées not to come to the pub when visiting their families.

He should have realised that some of these families practically lived at the pub. Mrs Ditcher had obviously recovered well enough from both her physical illness and her depression so as to return to the normal habit of spending her days in the warmth of the pub.

It looked like some witches and wizards had just left the couple, having stayed for a while by the table to exchange a few words with them. The bench opposite to theirs was now vacant.

Jonah slid to sit down, and gesticulated to Remus, urging him to do the same. Remus had to twitch Harry at the sleeve so as to make him flop at the end of the bench, and he could not help enjoying the boy's discomfort.

Turning his attention back to Mrs Ditcher and Kostas, he noticed that her hair had lost almost all of the raven dye but it was clean and neatly combed into a bun. It was obvious that Dolores had inherited her thick black curls from her father. The Mediterranean darkness of his complexion was emphasized by the whiteness of the bandage above his eyebrows. He seemed to be clearly younger than her lady friend, and perhaps the poorer diet - the lack of olive oil and sweet pastries - had stopped him from developing the typical well-nourished look of a middle-aged Greek man.

"Hello. I heard... that you joined - only when I heard that they sent you back," Jonah said, and he continued, as nobody else talked, with nervousness evident in his babbling. "But I didn't know you were back together..."

"Who's that? Your son?" Kostas said, only glancing up, straight in front of him, before he turned his face back towards the cup between his palms.

Mrs Ditcher stared firmly into Remus's eyes but gave a vague reply, "And a couple of his friends."

It was disconcerting that Kostas did not look at - or talk to - Jonah either, even though they had evidently known each other for quite a while. However, the customary neglect of polite gestures - the same kind of behaviour Remus had observed in Jonah when they had first met - now actually served Remus well. There was no need for him to introduce himself, not to mention Harry. Still, he could not possibly refrain from asking, "How are you, Mrs Ditcher?"

"Thank you," she said. Giving him a bittersweet smile, she let her finger brush the rim of Kostas's cup. "The two of us are just fine, Dolores and I. Thank you."

The cup looked familiar... Yes, it derived from Remus's kitchen.

In the brief silence that followed, Kostas moved slightly away from Mrs Ditcher and held out his arms to her. She produced the sleeping baby for him from inside her coat. Little Dolores's cheeks were rosy, and after some sucking movements her lips formed a smile. Kostas kissed her forehead, staring in the distance between Remus and Jonah.

For some reason Remus felt compelled to glance at Harry, while he actually preferred watching the baby. Somehow the boy's presence was disquieting, even though he was acting so unassuming that it was bordering on indifference and on a wordless argument that he did not belong to this small company any more than to the regulars of the pub. Remus was amazed to realise how grown-up and strong Harry looked - physically, whereas the obviously forced expression of boredom revealed his immaturity.

Kostas's words startled Remus, even though the voice was soft. "So you come to check that my girls are all right. I tell you, I didn't leave them. You left them, and you'd better not come here, if you don't want to make your mother watch our Corps beat you."

Perhaps he kept his voice low and calm in order not to wake up his daughter. In any case he sounded like he was not threatening - but, instead, merely stating facts and offering advice. "I was there with my girls most of the time. Just not at the same time with... that creature. And that's what they sent me against when I took the job. I took the job, so I could take care of my girls. They said they'd pay after the training. It was practical training soon enough."

His warm brown eyes were now wandering, not focusing on anyone, while he groped inside of his shabby robes. "No uniform yet. But this is one of the best wands, they say."

Remus's fingers found his own wand in a pocket immediately, but he had to reproach himself for having not held it all the time.

However, Kostas placed his on the table. "These beauties pass quickly to new heroes' hands."

Jonah had been fidgeting for a while and now he could not help blurting out, "Do you have to give it back now that they sent you...?"

It was turning out unexpectedly easy to question Kostas. He could no longer completely hide his anguish, but he transferred his visible shaking into a gently rocking motion. The answers followed questions as if obediently, but - murmuring now in a hardly audible voice - he still gave the impression that he was rather talking to himself. "No, they haven't sent me home. I was not supposed to be back yet - not alive. But I wanted to come just to bring something for Dolly. They won't pay... I won't be on their list on the payday anymore. But you can sell this."

He reached for the wand again, so clumsily that the cup was almost knocked down. Had he perhaps got something strong enough from the bar, too, not only a nourishing drink brought from home?

"I know you want it. It's up to your mum, and I just hope she thinks of our child." He had again addressed his stepson.

But Jonah looked confused and obviously did not manage to consider carefully what to say. "So you've run away?"

"I'm returning to London tonight," Kostas continued, still seemingly calm. "They want proper victims, and a lot. I can make a bigger contribution. That's what they think. Like this I'm bloody useful, better than anyone among the barely trained poor devils. All of us we can hit each other by mistake often enough, but now I should truly be able to fire curses... blindly." The last word was accompanied by wry laughter.

How could Remus not have realised earlier what caused Kostas's strange failure in eye contact? "Did you hurt your eyes badly?" he asked.

"No... There's no pain. I just can't see. But it doesn't make a difference. I must be going now."

The last words alone could have made Mrs Ditcher start, but Kostas must have now stealthily moved the wand into her lap before offering the baby to her. Before Dolores was properly settled in her arms, she grabbed his shoulder in haste and kissed him on the mouth. Without another audible word he stood up and stumbled towards the fireplace.

Jonah rushed to his feet so as to follow his stepfather, but he glanced at his mother and did not need more than a wink to persuade him to approach her first. He bent to briefly hug her and sleeping Dolores - finally, having not greeted them at all when arriving at the table. But when continuing his way after Kostas he clutched his pocket with a satisfied grin on his flushed face.

While watching him Remus urged Harry up. "Quick. You can make it first to the floo and stop him from leaving without us."

Harry cast an incredulous glance at Remus but did not say anything. He zigzagged through the crowd and perhaps wished he could have stepped right into the fireplace and left on his own. Remus arrived in front of the fire at the same time with Jonah, who was now leading Kostas by the hand.

"No, nowhere like any headquarters, or a camp either, not directly, Kostas was saying. "A friend helped me sneak out for one day. I'm going through the same shop where he took me. He should be there now to help me get back to our lodgings before it's time to gather for the mission. Unless he's given up waiting..."

Jonah sought reassurance in Remus's eyes, obviously unable to decide what he could offer. "We... I can come and make sure you'll find your way. If you really need to go. Perhaps you could escape and hide or..."

"I'm going. They'd find me. Besides, there's something... I'm dying to see..."

"So what's the name of the shop we're going to? Jonah asked."

"Anthony's beer-off."

"What's that?"

"An offie. Anthony's a Muggleborn, and from Yorkshire."

"Let's go then: to Anthony's beer-off, London," Jonah repeated, scattering into the languishing fire a pinch of the floo powder he had kept in his pocket.

When the flames rose high and green, Remus and Harry stepped in right after Jonah, who made sure there was space for the two of them. Harry - and Remus as well - would have had the chance to mention, instead, Mrs Hopchin's house in Bagendon. But without an agreement they all ended up accompanying a recruit of Umbridge's army.

***

"Draught beer?" A hopeful question sounded in the gloomy off-license.

By the time the group of four had managed to get out of the fireplace, a big bearded man had appeared from behind a counter with a large bronze funnel in his hand. "No, you don't have your own jugs or bottles with you... Oh, it's the Greek. The other recruit came back to wait but he left already, so I forgot all about it. And these must be new ones... no past-the-closing-hour customers, so... good night!" It did not take long for Anthony to assess the value of the newcomers.

He marched to the door, flung it open and shooed them out, while continuing to mutter to himself, "Better close the floo, too... This isn't any better location for the shop than next to the chapel in Aston up in Yorkshire. I thought that they'd need to infuse spirit into the men who're going to the battle. But nobody's paid before it's too late."

Remus could not resist suggesting a solution, while not bothering to consider how well it would help the business and serve Umbridge's interests at the same time. "Perhaps you could get their employer as your partner. Pay them in spirits or something..."

The shop-owner cast a sharper look at him, holding the door half open for a moment.

But Remus turned away to face the deserted alley. At this point there were buildings only on this side of the narrow gravel road. A couple of lanterns shed dim light across the ditch until a thicket. Further beyond a dark stretch of open wasteland, Remus could discern shadows moving in front of the windows of a long, low structure, probably a barrack.

Kostas confirmed his assumption. "The barracks are right ahead. Can you guide me to follow the other ditch... It branches off from the ditch by the road over there, just a few steps away to the left. So I can stay in the shelter of the bushes until I reach the yard. And I can pretend I just got a bit lost, walking from my hut."

Jonah was holding Kostas's arm and set off at once, only glancing back at Remus, raising his eyebrows. "The two of you can wait here, right? There was no need for you to come at all."

Remus followed without saying a word, and checked that Harry was doing the same. He became suddenly aware of some tension between the two of them, as in his ears the silence of the night echoed the boy's persistent abstaining from any inquiries. Did Harry pretend not to be interested in whatever they were doing?

Jonah crossed and helped Kostas cross one of the ditches so that the other one did not remain between them and the barracks, either. This was probably not the safest option, but the whole trip hardly was, either.

Kostas must have wondered about the same thing. "Why would you help me get back?" he said, struggling to regain his balance after the leap across the ditch. "I must be an enemy to your friends, too."

An owl hooted and another one replied to it. Remus had stepped down until he could feel the soft soil under the soles of his shoes. These shoes he had bought second-hand in July - mainly in order to look respectable enough in Harry's company - and they were still in good condition. Now he trusted they could serve him reliably on a long way to an unknown destination. On a reckless mission with a hidden purpose.

Some scarce light of stars or distant lanterns was reflected on the muddy water at the bottom of the ditch. It smelled of waste as well as of decay. But the lack of prospects was turning into elevation. Perhaps not a vision. Unlike this man who might never have the chance to get used to being blind, Remus did not value the sense of sight at this moment. A hooting made him lift his face, and he was reconciled with the waft of chill air on his cheeks, without trying to perceive the shadow of the wings. The birds of prey were out and anticipating the rising of the moon, which would expose their enemies.

A peculiar mood had seized the whole company. Did it make any sense that Kostas was, despite his vulnerable state, so indifferent to the identities of his companions? He was obviously being lured back by something else than simple despair or loyalty. What had he said about... dying to see?

And did Jonah, finally in the possession of a wand, know whom he wanted to serve, after all: Remus, his stepfather, or the ministry? Remus had intended to help Jonah, and then also to make Harry see how his allies were forced to live. A couple of good intentions had to suffice. He was allowed to simply enjoy this trip, when he, unexpectedly, despite the lack of playfulness in their various intentions, felt blessed, as if his solitude had finally again been replaced by a membership in a band of mischief makers. However, he was getting curious about what else this night could offer.

"Perhaps we want some more information from you," he said, having caught up with Kostas and touching his shoulder, making him start. "Like where you're going to attack tonight."

Kostas was calmer than when making his farewells to those two whom he had called fondly his girls. "What makes you think I know anything? I'm just guessing it's going to be like last time. And I reckon they built this camp right here for a single purpose, and brought my group here for the same purpose."

"And the purpose is...? You said something about... some creatures."

"You'd better hush and bend down a bit," Jonah whispered, elbowing Remus and squeezing Kostas's arm. "We're getting close."

Kostas turned his head, as if he could see, but he needed to ask, "Are they already arranged in rows in front of the long barrack?"

"Yes." Remus could see them more clearly now. Perhaps thirty witches and wizards, some with military bearings, some with bad postures - a motley crowd.

Having strained his ears to intercept the orders given by the only couple of men in black-and-gold uniforms, Remus was startled by Harry's voice gasping out close to him, "Death Eaters?"

"No, of course not. Death Eaters are the elite. As you can see, these witches and wizards don't cover their faces, or their heads. They can hardly cover their bodies with their rags."

Remus had said all that, before he realised how eager he was to offer information when Harry finally asked something. He could not resist adding, "Oh yes, there's something else you'd consider a remarkable difference. These people have been recruited by the Ministry, not by Voldemort."

They were all four standing very close to each other, with a stoop and behind the tallest bush, and Remus could feel Jonah shudder - even though he had already heard before both Remus and Harry speak this name of an enemy.

Kostas was obviously alarmed for a moment. "How can someone say aloud...?" he whispered. "Jonah...who are your friends, after all?"

"That's a good question..." Remus said. "But if you mean just who the two of us are..."

"They came with me from Bagendon," Jonah cut in, and he cast a sharp look at Harry when continuing, "and only the people who oppose both the Ministry and... You-Know-Who - only these people are our allies."

"But we're defending the Ministry against... him - by attacking his creatures."

"His creatures?" Remus asked.

"This is not the time and place for talking," Kostas now said.

Remus knew quite well how reckless it was to stay together at this spot.

But unexpectedly Kostas sounded calm again. "I'll get a bit further by myself and then I'll turn towards the barracks and let them see me... not you. I don't know but... for some reason I don't want them to catch you."

"What if we don't want them to get you back?" Jonah said.

"I need to go. I'm not going to give them more than one corpse. I gave the wand away. But they won't notice. I have a stick I prepared for fooling them. I don't know what hit my eyes..." Kostas continued in low murmur, and he was gradually sounding more and more delirious. He was clutching Jonah's hand, which was still holding his arm. "I don't mind going back, and this could be the works of an enchantment. I just feel it's a pity if I'm killed by a stray hex before I get to see the fey folk again. As if I could see... But perhaps that's it... I'll see only them and their world, nothing here. I'm dying to see them. I'm losing my mind, but I'm going, and I'll become part of the warning. Against the creatures. And against Umbridge, who makes us kill each other and blames them."

Remus could relate to his urge. He started speaking to Jonah, "Let him... No, wait. Please tell me what your mission was when this happened to you?"

"We were raiding the Dewbowl Inn... Let me go now."

"I... hope you'll get to see them. Perhaps they'll welcome you, if that's what you need."

Kostas could probably no longer hear Remus's last words. He was trudging through the thicket. Just when it looked like he needed someone to help him keep his course, he stopped and obviously listened. Then he turned and started walking across the open wasteland.

"Look. The commanders... whatever," Jonah whispered, "the men with gold stripes - they've turned away. They won't see where he's coming from."

"And the others are calling his name only now," Remus replied, "now when he could as well have appeared from behind the building. I hope he won't be punished for coming late, so he can go with them."

"But he'll be killed."

Kostas had now fallen on his knees in front of the commanders. Remus could only hope that they would not kill or torture him as punishment, and to his relief the man was soon allowed and able to stand up and join in the row of recruits.

"He knows what he wants - as well as possible."

Now Harry evidently could not resist expressing his astonishment. "Are you saying he wants to face Dark creatures - while he's already wounded and blind?"

"No. As he said, it's creatures like the one who tended to his girls. People like Thisby. Half-breeds."

"Aren't they dangerous enough? I mean, if they must defend themselves?"

Harry's question made Remus realise how hard it was for him to imagine any part-human with veela or faun blood, or goblin or elf, or even giant blood, causing intentional serious harm to anybody even in defence. However, it was certainly not safe to invade places where they were sheltered by their unique combination of magic.

"That's what I wondered the first time I heard that the Ministry was raiding the denied neighbourhood. These creatures have unpredictable powers. I doubt that a large crowd gathered at an inn can be defeated by a patrol of inexperienced wizards. Apparition doesn't work inside their buildings. And they can distort your perception. But now it makes sense to me. These patrols are meant to get destroyed."

"Why?"

Remus caught himself smiling.

Harry, now hardly having the patience to keep his voice low, demanded an explanation in his characteristic way. "How does that make any sense?"

They must have been standing still in their hiding place for quite a while. Remus pulled his hands out of the pockets and, holding his wand, wrapped his arms around himself for a change. "People are given the impression that everyone who's not a full human is a serious threat. That's how they are lured to give more money and power to her."

"Her?"

"Umbridge. Perhaps you could consider belonging to our crowd, after all?"

Remus was not sure it had been wise to blurt out that. Harry, however, only turned his eyes towards Remus's, but had to give up any attempts to distinguish his facial expression in the gloom. Uncertainty about his tone did clearly not concern Harry as much as the purpose of the Corps did.

"But how could she send her men to be killed like that... make them kill each other, too, when they are needed for fighting Voldemort?"

"Who says that Voldemort is a serious threat? Well, she does, but... Look. They're setting off."

The oddly satisfying discussion had been almost enough to keep Remus warm, but he was thrilled they could finally move on. Or actually turn back, as the patrol was heading across the wasteland for the region at the other end of the gravel road.

"Where do you think...?" Harry asked.

"I wager the denied neighbourhood is not far. That's the dwelling place of the part-humans. Kostas said the camp seemed to have been built here particularly for these attacks."

Harry had become talkative and was now almost pushing Jonah aside, doing his best to stick close to Remus. "And we're going there?"

"You wish you had your broomstick?"

They were now passing the off-license, but they continued to follow the ditch by the road.

"No, I don't mind walking... So are there no Dark creatures there?"

"There are some werewolves. But they'll join packs and their own leaders elsewhere before deciding to support or fight Voldemort - or the Ministry."

"I mean others like that - human-like. Banshees and such... hags and..."

Remus did not let the change of topic prevent him from talking about himself. "I'm not sure, actually... Perhaps this is a proper Defence Against the Dark Arts excursion. The teacher doesn't need to know the answers, so he can explore together with his students. I've told you I'm not a real expert, even though I gathered some book knowledge on Dark creatures soon after I left school. Somehow I'd got the impression that it was the suitable field of study for me, so I tried it before anything else. In fact, I got a small scholarship in exchange for submitting to being the object of an experiment..."

"An experiment?"

"Why are you surprised? Dumbledore had already experimented with me. Some scholar friends of his took the opportunity to test whether a werewolf was capable of higher learning, too. By making the scholarship small enough they could also find out how much a werewolf needed to eat so as to survive. The results were not quite reliable, since at that time I still had parents and friends to feed me. In any case, I managed to learn from books written by wizards for instance that hags ate babies. Ten years later I got to know some hags and discovered that the most revolting part of their diet was raw pork."

"Excuse me." Jonah's indignant voice almost took Remus unawares by sounding from ahead of him.

He felt like apologising for his self-centred babbling, and for not concentrating on what was necessary at the moment. However, he also understood that Jonah had actually been the leader all the time and not reluctant at all to take the responsibility for not losing track of the patrol.

"They crossed here and entered that alley," Jonah informed his companions. "Now they've just disappeared behind that corner."

There was a plank across the ditch.

"I doubt any full humans live around here," Remus said after following Jonah to the other side.

In the dark night he could not discern any details in the buildings lining the alley at which Jonah had pointed, but their gloomy shapes were low against the starry sky. Above all, he could feel under his feet and hear in the sound of their steps that the even gravel road ended right here and turned into a bumpy mud path.

"So this is the home for the fey folk?" Harry said, sounding somewhat disappointed.

"Charming, isn't it? Mind the pools. It'll soon all be literally a gutter."

Oddly enough, Remus felt like laughing his pleasure. Perhaps it was simply reassuring to recognise the area, but he was startled by the happiness evoked in him by such a prompt return here.

Jonah's sensible words brought him back to the reality. "Do you think that here they'll be more careful... watching that they aren't followed and attacked from behind?"

"I doubt it. They want to be attacked," Remus replied, enjoying the carefree tone in his own voice. "Maybe that's why they've used the lumos charm all the time. It's easy to follow the only light there is."

"In any case they won't be able to see us," Harry offered. "But perhaps we'd better stop chatting."

Jonah hesitated to walk further, perhaps just hesitated to lead the expedition any longer. Having been brought up to fear and despise part-humans and non-humans, he might have been glad to rebel by joining some creatures who had been recommended as allies by an authoritative figure like Mr Landor. Instead, entering an area like this without any previous plans was likely to feel unnerving, and Jonah had obviously heard what Remus had said about it. Remus trusted that if he, as the only one of the three of them who had been here before, offered to walk first, however, Jonah's urge to continue would not subside. The boy could not possibly know if there was anything he would be able to do to help his stepfather any longer, or if he would end up doing something else. But he was driven forward by some loyalty in any case.

"I can't claim to know the way, even though I can guess where they are heading," Remus explained, setting off. "I was there a few days ago, but I arrived from another direction."

Harry stayed close to Remus and fell a few steps behind only when, further down the alley, the gutter widened to bathe in stinky water all except a narrow space near the walls. Here there was some light behind the windows, and when Remus glanced back at the right moments, some beams escaping through the cracks in the shutters revealed to him the thoughtful frown on Harry's face. However, when Harry noticed that Remus was looking at him, the frown was replaced by a grin.

"You don't mind going," Remus felt compelled to say, "always eager to plunge forward, even when you don't know what you're looking for, besides trouble?"

"I don't know..."

No, perhaps it was only Remus's wish that Harry could afford to be like the Marauders as young boys: looking for adventure for the fun of it. At times Harry had been reckless enough, too, but mainly because trouble had found him. Rather serious trouble caused by Voldemort. Remus's words about this enemy must have sounded inexplicably light-hearted and hard to believe - but perhaps also tempting to accept. Perhaps Harry shared Remus's wish, and this, after all, made him end up grinning.

They came to a spot where two alleys met, but the distant glow on the commanders' wands still guided them to the right direction.

"I wish I were properly aware of the location of the Dewbowl Inn," Remus whispered barely audibly, "so I could apparate there to give them a warning."

At that moment he felt a presence, which lit up in his mind before his eyes saw the light and before his ears caught the words. That was why the clearly-ringing, polite and almost cheerful voice hardly startled him. "Good evening. Perhaps you could allow me to offer my services."

The creature standing next to him was not taller than a ten-year-old boy. An impression of great age, however, was achieved by his white self-luminous hair - or perhaps by some serious world-weariness, easily hidden behind a smile but recognised by Remus in the lines of the gaunt face, while its paleness was sickly, too. When the creature lifted his right hand on the top of his head, Remus realized that he had a pair of delicate horns - and was therefore obviously of faun as well as of veela descent.

An open palm was stretched towards Remus, and two other bows were directed to Jonah and Harry. "There's another patrol, isn't there? How many witches and wizards this time?"

"Twenty-nine," Jonah replied.

"Thank you. They're taking the way which led them to the inn before. I'll make sure we'll be prepared to welcome them properly." The light disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.

The glow of lumos was clear again for a moment, before the patrol evidently rounded another corner. Remus hurried forward without saying a word to the others.

In a moment the fey boy returned to his side, to stride quite close to him, in an attempt to avoid getting up to his knees into the water towards the middle of the alley. Now Remus noticed that he was dressed only in a ragged tunic, so he would not have got any clothes wet in any case.

"Hello again! I hope this won't disappoint you. We'll let them do it outside this time. They've broken enough of our furniture."

"Do what?" Harry asked.

But this time they had not stopped walking, and as soon as they had rounded a corner Remus, together with Harry and Jonah, was pushed against the wall. Here they were partly sheltered by some stone stairs, which led to a door up at about chest-height.

By the similar stairs of the next building there were two men in ambush - both wearing the black-and-gold uniforms. The ranks - twenty-seven men and women according to Jonah's counting - were standing a few steps further, facing the building across the alley. Remus could distinguish Kostas among them, as the cold glow of lumos was reflected on the bandage around his head. The silence was broken only by the howling wind which swept along the alley, making the familiar signboard creak.

With louder creaks the door and the shutters of the inn flew open. A rosy light bathed the alley. Like the ominous sunsets, like the painful and hopeful sunrises, it painted the pale skin with the colour of life, of blood: the serious faces, the arms exposed by too-short sleeves when stretching out, each with a firm hold of a wand - apart from the one clutching a harmless stick. At the last moment the recruits were revealed to Remus's eyes as rather young adults, perhaps young fathers and mothers, who had credulously decided to take this opportunity to both support and protect their families. Almost as individuals they took hesitating steps into the water so as to cross to the door of the inn. But they stopped when the large figure of a creature, perhaps a half-giant filled the doorframe.

As the enormous shadow almost reached their shelter by the wall, one of the commanders shouted the first incantation. "Sectumsempra!"

This hex was too easy to learn. Too quick to complete with almost a random wave of the wand and without more intention than simply an agitated state of mind. All the recruits followed the commander's example so soon that Remus could not see if the first dark spell had hit any target. The rest of the hexes, at least, were immediately repelled by some non-human magic - which turned the recruits into victims of their own or each other's cruel gashing spells.

Spurting blood now darkened several faces, among them the one under a white bandage. Without stopping to think Remus focused on Kostas's exact location and apparated beside him.

He was there just in time to keep the wounded man from falling down to the deep water. His meagre physical strength could hardly allow him to carry anyone to shelter. While uselessly clutching his wand he had his both arms wrapped around Kostas's waist from behind. The fabric under his wrists was soaked; dizziness threatened to overcome him with the illusion that the blood was his own. He staggered backwards. Reluctant to look at Kostas's face, he was relieved to remember that Kostas could not have been reassured by the sight of a friend in any case.

His voice had to suffice, in case Kostas was even conscious any longer. "I'll hold you. It's all..."

No, it was not all right. Kostas was dying, and he was not the only victim. Remus glanced at his side, realising that he was passing by the commanders. One of them was waving his wand again, unmistakably aiming another gashing hex at a young witch who had knelt to pull a bleeding wizard out of the water.

Leaving only one arm to hold Kostas, Remus lifted his wand. He was bound to be late. The young witch had already been hit. Having pulled Kostas a couple of more steps towards the shelter from where he had come, Remus fell on his knees with the bandaged, bleeding head on his lap. Not too early did he direct his wand towards the other commander, who by now must have paid attention to him.

"Sectumsempra!" the man shouted.

Even though this was not unexpected, Remus could hardly have gathered any defined good intention to channel in his response. Still, desperately, perhaps in order to object to the nauseating cruelty, he stuck to his ideal of defence. "Rafinarisma!"

There was no time to check the effect of his spell. He caught a vague image of the man falling against the wall, of the flow of his blood slowing down. But perhaps it was partly an image he was seeking in order to manage the most urgent magic - to stop Kostas from bleeding.

"Stamatises, stamatises," he muttered, moving his wand above Kostas's head and chest.

"Expelliarmus!" That was Jonah's voice, ringing very clear and forceful just behind him.

He glanced back just when another wand flew to fall at the boys' feet. Harry was not next to him.

Instead, the little fey boy was suddenly there, kneeling beside Remus. "You don't want to save any others, do you?" the boy said lightly. "We will take this one to another world."

"Please, ask the creatures to stop, at least... stop turning the hexes back, if they can. Tell them it's for their own good. You know who I am, don't you?"

"Yes, I realised what you wanted, so I've already told them."

Indeed, there were no hexes flying anymore. But it was too late.

Jonah had now arrived. He was holding a commander's wand in addition to the one Kostas had given away. Remus struggled to stand up, leaving Kostas to the two boys' arms. Yes, it was late. Almost every recruit had been hit. And some of them had fallen into the water. They would drown, if they were not already dead.

Remus stretched his arms. To his surprise, before he had used his wand or even got aware of an intention to spell out an evaporation charm, a mist rose from the gutter. Was it his wandless magic, needed to save the wounded recruits from drowning? It did not really matter who could be thanked for that. The victims needed healers. Remus could not help them all. He could not even find them in the thickening fog. And he could not find Harry.

He stumbled on someone and knelt down, ready to perform the charms to stop bleeding. But this body was lifeless.

Here was another one. And Harry was here on his knees, struggling to turn this witch onto her back. Remus hurried to help, only to see that she had bled to death or drowned as well.

From behind he heard a harsh voice, "What do you think you are doing? Give me my wand back. These two have their wand-points against your head. Who are you?"

"I... It's confusing," Jonah's voice replied. "I thought you were the enemy."

"Disapparate," Harry whispered to Remus with surprising determination in his voice. "I can handle this... with Jonah. Just Go. Go to Anthony's off-licence to wait for us. Or at least back to the end of the alley."

"But I must..."

"Okay, stay hidden here in the mist, so you can try to find some more victims to help while you hear us handle it ... But we'll meet you at the end of the alley. I'll make them call healers." While talking Harry stood up and bared his head. Having pushed his hood back, he also brushed his hair away from his forehead. At the last moment before vanishing among the mist he turned to wink at Remus.

"Hey, mate! Are you there? What will our professors say... We've got involved in something like..."

Jonah's reply was almost choked in sobs, but his tearful voice still managed to convey both astonishment and indignation. "You talk about... professors! People are dying here... and... disappearing."

Harry, instead, made himself sound childish and pompous. "Don't tell me it's my fault again - that I get myself and everyone in trouble. I think we've actually done some good. Perhaps those creatures somehow... with their intuition they knew who I was and they stopped killing Ministry's soldiers and escaped into this fog they made."

While listening Remus tried to search in front of the inn as systematically as possible. The water was now hardly ankle-deep in the middle of the alley, whereas he realised how deep in the gutter he had waded and knelt earlier, as his drenched robes, tangled around his legs, made it difficult to walk briskly. He expected to step on bodies, but to his surprise - relief or despair, he did not know - he did not stumble on anyone any longer. The light spilling out through the windows still coloured the mist above his head, but the door had been shut. There were no sounds except the howling of the wind and the discussion towards the other side of the alley, close to the stone steps behind which the fey boy had first pushed them.

"And who...?" demanded the commander's voice, but the question gave way to an exclamation. "The Boy Who...!"

"Yes, and this is my mate from school... Did he disarm you by mistake? We're sorry, but listen. We just happened..."

"To look for trouble," Jonah cut in, "typical of you... like when you tried to solve some other mysteries and got involved in You Know Who's..."

"But we can help, too," Harry continued. "Let's not waste more time. We can help find any victims who are still alive, while one of you apparates to St. Mungo's. We'll stay here until you apparate back with healers."

Remus had now done his best to search on both sides of the alley, also around the stairs which had sheltered the commanders. He was starting to doubt that the healers would find anyone to help even after the wind would have scattered the mist. At least, if Harry's plot worked, the commanders would do their best to save some of the victims, since they would not like the famous hero to spread the news that the Ministry killed its own soldiers on purpose. In the worst case, too, they would have no corpses to show as a proof that the creatures had actually killed anyone. Had the creatures really taken not only Kostas, but almost all the others, too, either dead or wounded, to their own world?

After a brief silence Remus heard a new, strangely dragging voice. "All right. You go, and bring healers, urgently. I'd say only the six of us are unharmed, or only slightly wounded, while perhaps no more than ten recruits can be helped any longer. Those beasts...!"

The voice probably belonged to the other commander - the one whom Remus's magic had evidently paralysed only for a moment. The man sounded still dazed, and he had perhaps no idea of what had hit him, or even that he had tried to hit anyone but another recruit or perhaps a part-human - which would, of course, have actually been a correct guess. He must have given his order to the commander whom Jonah had disarmed, since the new recruits were probably not able or authorised to apparate.

Having heard the crack of apparition, Remus gave up and, still hidden by the gradually thinning mist, rounded his two friends and what was left of the Corps. He walked now so slowly back towards the previous corner, before which they had first met the fey boy, that he hardly noticed how after a while he stopped completely and stayed still, staring up above the roofs.

The crescent moon was squinting at him through fluttering haze. Only when the sound of footsteps startled him, did he become aware of the cold which had numbed his mind and body.

"You didn't go further..." Harry said beside him.

"Or find... anyone, either," Jonah added.

Both boys were still clutching their wands, but they had not bothered to dry their clothes either, even though they were visibly shivering.

"I took him there," Jonah continued after a brief silence.

"We did. And he asked for it," Remus replied, forcing himself to talk. "Perhaps there was no way for him to avoid it. The creatures had invited him... and I trust they know he was determined not to hurt anyone on either side. He'll have his reward... somewhere."

When Jonah resumed walking towards the gravel road, Remus kept to his side without minding his steps on the edge of the wide gutter.

After a while Jonah spoke again. "You didn't know him..."

"I wish I had... I've been to Greece and I liked the people a lot."

"Greece..."

It might have been stupid to take up such a topic, but Remus wanted to cautiously give Jonah a chance to talk about Kostas. Therefore he asked, "Was he born in this country?"

"He said he came from Cyprus... in 1974, when he was almost ten. Too late for going to school. It took him some years to learn the language, and before his parents started making any money. You know, he used to like talking to me..." Jonah had launched into a fluent account, but now his voice became stifled again. "I wanted him... to be my... Dolly, at least, to have..."

Remus wrapped an arm around Jonah's back and squeezed his shoulder, while they continued to walk. "I'm sorry... and thank you. The two of you did handle it - as well as possible."

He glanced at Harry, who was walking behind him, but there were no more winks or grins.

Jonah was soon leading again. When he reached the plank across the ditch, he chose to follow the same path in the shelter of the thicket which they had taken earlier.

By the end of this foolhardy adventure Harry had proved his ability to stay calm and cunning. Perhaps he had learnt such resourcefulness due to his previous encounters with evil will since he was eleven - and also due to the unfair treatment he had endured before that.

Instead, could this trip possibly have taught anything to Harry? Had there been any purpose in it? Perhaps the interference had saved a few lives of people who would now continue to serve the enemy until their next opportunity to become victims. Perhaps Umbridge would have to be more careful, so that any suspicion possibly awoken in Harry Potter himself would not lead to questionable revelations in any inquiries. But Harry had hardly got any clearer idea of the lives of these wizards, witches and other creatures. The images of life and unrelenting hope had actually dimmed in Remus's own mind as well.

All he could now say to Harry was to ask about the current situation. "Are you sure the Corps aren't following us?"

"The healers brought a Portkey, so they all left for St Mungo's. We gave the impression we had our broomsticks nearby and we'd fly back to some people we were visiting close to London."

"Good. I hope we'll get back through the off-license. Anthony said he'd shut down the floo."

Harry replied bluntly without meeting Remus's eyes, "Let's just wake him up and buy some... firewhiskey."

In front of the off-license, too, the gravel road was illuminated only by the waning moon. The lanterns had been turned off. However, before Jonah had knocked on Anthony's door, a flickering light like a lonely flame appeared behind the window.

The bearded face peeking through the crack of the door was lit up in a surprising smile as well. Could Anthony have heard the tinkling of coins in Harry's pocket, or why was he so happy about their return? Remus turned to check that Harry had covered his forehead again.

Having hurried them, this time in - with almost exaggerated gestures of hospitality - Anthony extended his hand to Remus. "I have to apologise. I must be a bit slow, but soon after you'd left I was sure I'd recognised you. This is an honour. Besides, I have a chance to offer a service both to you and to a beautiful lady. She's waiting..."

Tapping both Harry and Jonah on the back, Anthony started pushing the three of them towards a table behind the counter. He was so absorbed in his excitement that he evidently did not pay any attention at all to their emotional and physical state.

In the warm light of a candle Remus was startled to see that both boys' hands and clothes were covered with blood. Only now did he realise that he inevitably wore similar signs of the battle. Somehow he felt he did not deserve to get rid of them, but he quickly settled with the appropriateness of spells, which would make them appear neater and less suspicious only for a limited period of time in any case. "Scourgify, Siccarus," he muttered quickly three times, aiming his wand first to his friends.

Remus wondered if this shop-owner had any idea of what they had been doing and what had just happened in the neighbourhood. Yes, he was certainly able to guess some of it, since he had talked at least to a couple of recruits. But now he seemed to be interested in something else.

When Anthony noticed what he was doing and looked astonished, Remus caught himself explaining, "Just preparing ourselves for... meeting that lady."

Until spelling this out he had been unable to properly register all of Anthony's words. Now he could not repress his amazement. "How is it possible that you want and manage to arrange a meeting between...?"

Remus was still not sure whether the two of them had the same and correct idea of who this lady was. He remained standing close to the table, still holding his wand, and he was happy to see that Harry and Jonah looked alert as well.

"Some of her new followers have asked me to send a message through them, if you should drop by," Anthony explained with pride in his voice. "When I moved down from Yorkshire, I found here - among... well, among them - my brother. We lost him when he was ten. Perhaps I came not only in the hopes of good business, but because I wanted to find out what had become of him... But it's no time for talking about me. She's been waiting...

Remus now trusted he knew about whom Anthony was talking. Still, the sight of her was startling.

When Anthony pulled aside a curtain so as to reveal a low door-opening in the back wall, the light fell first on the crown formed by her golden brown plaits. She had bent her head to enter the room, but after having straightened up she was as tall as the bulky shop-owner. However, she looked slimmer than Remus had remembered, perhaps because now she was not wearing the hides but simple grey robes.

She took the few steps to stand in front of him, quite close to him, with a playful smile on her enticing lips. But when their eyes met, hers became serious, almost sad. "Not the best moment for hopeful plans, is it?"

"It's... you - good to see you. And yes, it is... I mean, hopeful plans are what I need right now."

She lifted her arms cautiously. Her hands were empty, but he felt that she wanted to offer to him again the bowl of life in her embrace.

With his face buried in her shoulder he received another gift from her. No youthful strength or exuberant joy, since the moon was fragile. The warmth of her body and spirit, certainly. Renewed clarity of mind, awareness of the nuances of the situation, combined with confidence in the existence of right choices.

When the two of them slowly pulled apart from each other, he sensed clearly also Harry and Jonah's astonishment - mixed with indignation and a trace of disappointment. He felt a need to declare that this was not his woman.

"This is... not an old friend," he managed to say, almost amusing himself. "We've met only once before..."

She was still holding his left hand, and he knew he had the permission to reveal anything.

He continued, "When we first met, in September ... Hecate saved me - helped me escape her village just before the rise of the full moon. And, well, these are Jonah and Harry."

He wished Hecate's touch could help the boys as well. But he knew that she would never be much more than an ordinary woman in their eyes. He could only hope that they would not consider her less than that - and that they would allow her to touch their hands. That she would do it, instead of following some such customs of her village which could have been - in addition to a specific decision to torture an alien werewolf by denying physical contact - a partial reason for the manner in which Remus had been welcomed to Ice-Stare's village.

His fears turned out unnecessary. Hecate let go Remus's hand and stepped closer to the boys, offering one hand to each of them. They replied to the gesture without any visible hesitation.

However, as soon as she touched their skin she hardly managed not to recoil. Rubbing their fingers, she said, "The two of you are too young and too human for this... this blood, I mean. Did you have to kill?"

Jonah merely stared at her; Harry shook his head. "No... not yet."

"Remus, you must take these children home. I'll see you again. Even though I'd better not leave my village too often any longer. We are preparing ourselves... But most of those who want to follow you and me remain here. They need to learn a lot, your peaceful defence magic, for instance. So I hope you'll come and guide them. If you can possibly bear working with Paul."