The Brethren of Tyr

Chapter Twenty-Three: Tales from Beaubaxtons

That Friday evening, Harry was once again in Persephone's office awaiting his Occlumency lesson, except this time he was sat in one of her comfortable chairs, reading his mother's diary with interest.

25/09/74: Well, today was interesting! After a fortnight of trying out with completely rhythm-less boys, I've finally found a decent dance-partner for the National Wizarding Championships! And I was so shocked when I found out who it was- that weird Ravenclaw boy, Severus, the one that Black and Potter bully- vile little boys that they are. I was sceptical, and he pointed out he was only helping me because Dumbledore had made him as a punishment for something- I didn't dare ask what he had done. He was really good, though! I was stunned- he knew when, where and how to lead, plus all the basic moves and a few of the complex ones. I asked him where he had learned to dance, and he told me it was a family tradition for the children to perform dances such as the tarantella or the flamenco with each other on the Midwinter Solstice. From the way he was talking, I think he's a gypsy of some sort, but I was reluctant to press him any further- I still remember what he did to Bellatrix Black on the Hogwarts train when I first arrived here years ago. Anyway, he was super, and we might stand a chance if I can just get him a little more enthused about the whole thing...

Harry scanned over about three months worth of his mother's incessant dance training, her complaints about Snape's apathy and cold hands during their dance practice, and her usual complaints about Sirius and his dad. Suddenly, he noticed an entry that was significantly longer than the previous ones had been. Curious, he read over it more carefully than the others.

22/11/74: Oh God, what have I done? I really ache, and Severus has got his back to me. He's asleep, of course. He hasn't sat up all night worrying about what we did- why should he? What has he got to worry about? Oh, I feel so stupid!

It all started off so well, too. We didn't win the championship, but we came third, which was too groovy! I thought we did really well and looked really good together, even though Severus reminded me before we got onto the stage that he 'wasn't doing it for the good of his health'. I just smiled and told him in that case, he was very sweet for doing it for me. He didn't appreciate that, but it was funny to see his face. I'd never noticed before how easy it is to make him blush.

Anyway, we got back to the Druid Hilton, where all the dancers were staying that night before going back to their relative schools. They had miscalculated the number of rooms they needed, so I had to share one with this girl called Marie. Well, Severus helped me to my room, because I had accidentally drank a large glass of punch from the Judges' punchbowl, not the competitors' one, and I admit I felt a little squiffy. I sat down on the bed and he made me drink a couple of glasses of tap water, which didn't really help, but it did make me need the toilet. Jessica left shortly after, as she was 'meeting a friend', as she told me. Ha! More like meeting that Hans Desislav boy she had clearly been mooning over on the carriage from the dance hall to here.

Severus stayed with me for a bit, he said it was to make sure I didn't end up vomiting everywhere and get us both into trouble for my underage drinking, which I had to protest. It had been a genuine mistake- the two punch bowls looked the same! He went to leave at this point, but for some reason I grabbed his hand before he got a chance to go away. I realised I didn't really want him to leave just yet, and asked him for one last dance. I knew we'd probably never speak to each other in school again, and it seemed a shame to part without a nod to our glorious victory of third place-ness (well, I was proud of it, even if he wasn't). He rolled his eyes at me, but tapped the Wizarding Wireless box with his wand, took my hand and danced with me none the less. His hands were still as cold as ever, but I put my head against his chest, and that at least was warm.

I don't know how it happened, or why it happened, but the next thing I know, we were kissing, and I was trying to find the buttons to his robes...

It took Harry another paragraph of reading to realise what his mother's words actually meant, at which point he threw the book out of his hands as though it were a dangerous contagion and jumped up out of his seat.

"Ew, ew, eww!" he practically screamed, and felt his facial muscles tug his lips downwards into an expression usually reserved for freshly caught trout. It was at this point he noticed Persephone was sitting behind her desk, and looked as though she had been there for some time.

"Ahh, you got to the bit about the dance competition?" she commented. "I just skipped it, myself. Could well have done without knowing that I was conceived in a Hilton hotel, of all places." She shuddered with distaste.

"Yeah, well, I didn't exactly see it coming!" Harry protested. Persephone laughed.

"Word of warning, then, don't even look at her entries for August 1978," she replied breezily, "that was with your dad."

Harry quietly picked up the diary and shut it emphatically.

"I don't need to know," he announced, calmly. "I don't have any more questions about my parents' marriage, I don't need to know."

"That's the spirit, boy!" Persephone chimed. Harry smiled weakly.

"Can we just get on with the lesson now, please?" he asked. Persephone smiled.

"Of course- you know I was just waiting for you. I'd have interrupted your reading, but you looked so peaceful," she teased. Harry sighed and sat himself down on Persephone's blue mat, crossing his legs and thinking desperately about calm blue oceans.

Their attempts at Occlumency practise went astonishingly poorly for the first ten minutes or so, for Persephone kept having to stop and calm Harry down.

"For Heaven's sake, Harry," she commanded, "just stop thinking about it!"

"I'm trying!" Harry protested, "but it's really difficult!"

Persephone snorted.

"Honestly, it's a perfectly normal act- people do it every day..."

"Yeah," Harry snapped back, "but it's my mum! And him, of all people..."

"Your mum has had two children, you can guarantee she's done it at least twice in her lifetime."

Harry covered his face with his hands in horror.

"You're not helping, you know!"

Persephone shrugged.

"I'm just saying..."

"Well, don't!"

Harry sighed and looked up at Persephone.

"Do you know, I have Potions lessons with your father three times a week, and do you know what I think about every time I see him?"

Persephone shook her head.

"Nope, but I've a feeling you're about to enlighten me."

"I look at him and think, 'You've had sex with my mum. Whatever you think of me and I think of you, you've still had sex with my mum.' It's horrible!"

"Might I make a suggestion?" Persephone offered. Harry shrugged.

"Go on, then."

"That you don't think about it? I know you don't like the man, but thinking like that is just going to leave you a nervous wreck! I don't think about it, and come on, at least your parents loved each other..."

Harry suddenly felt very ashamed. He hadn't once considered how all these revelations might have affected Persephone. The woman currently staring at him must have noticed his expression, for she smiled at him.

"Oh, don't worry about me," she replied, "Porphyria and François raised me. Although I did see Lily and Severus fairly often before my first death, they werent my guardians, if you get my drift. I just don't have that kind of bond with either of them."

Harry knew this was meant to comfort him, but he felt worse than ever at her admission. Though he was too young to remember much of his parents, at least he felt some kind of bond with them, some sense of belonging to them. Persephone evidently didn't have that, and Harry thought it terribly sad.

"Right," Persephone said, rubbing her hands together. "Let's try again."

This time, Harry was able to relax and clear his mind with relative ease, and they spent a fairly long time battling each other's mental powers, going back and forth through each other's memories too quickly to notice what any of them were about, until Persephone hit upon a couple of memories suddenly prominent in Harry's mind; his Aunt Marge floating away, with Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia shouting down at her, then one of him grabbing his wand, which had lit up on the ground, whilst trying to escape the Dementors at Privet Drive the year before last....

"You did wandless magic as a teenager?" Harry heard Persephone ask, through the midst of their mental struggle. Harry felt himself reply in the affirmative, though Persephone said no more about it.

All of a sudden, Harry hit upon another memory, one that he couldn't ascertain whether it belonged to him or Persephone. It was of a warm living room, with a blazing fire happily burning away in a wrought-iron fireplace. A small dark-haired boy was sitting in the lap of a larger dark-haired girl, who was sat upon a rug. She was holding his hand, which gripped at a card from the deck lying next to him, and manoeuvring it towards a precariously balanced set of cards, shaped like a house.

"It's all about steady hands," the girl was cooing, as they both reached out to balance the card. The small boy loosened his grip suddenly, and the card fluttered onto the others, knocking them over and causing a huge 'boom' to sound out from the living room. The girl gave the boy a look of mock irritation, and he clapped his small hands together, giggling.

A red-haired woman whom Harry instantly recognised as his mother ran into the room.

"Goodness!" she exclaimed, looking at the two children. She smiled, but looked at the girl with concern.

"Oh do be careful, Seph," she said. "You don't want to scare him!"

'Seph' seemed unconcerned.

"Oh don't be silly, mother," she retorted. "He won't be scared. He's my little brother, and no little brother of mine is going to be a wuss, see!"

Lily smiled at the laughing boy.

"Well, as long as you're both careful..."

Harry looked up at Persephone, their link suddenly broken.

"Wow," he replied.

"Tell me about it!" she said, before asking, "Was that yours or mine?"

Harry shrugged.

"Couldn't tell."

"Me neither."

There was a short pause, before Persephone suddenly spoke.

"So, that's what our mum looked like?" she asked, miming the shape of Lily's hair with her hands. Harry nodded.

"Yeah- haven't you seen any photos?" he asked. Persephone shook her head.

"No, Severus didn't have any," she replied. Harry's eyes narrowed.

"You mean she had his child, but he never bothered to take a photo of her?" he asked, his voiced edged with fury. Persephone looked straight at him.

"He did have one or two photos, I think, but he burned them all before he turned against Voldemort."

Harry was bewildered by this.

"Why?" he asked.

"I suppose if you're going to be a spy, the last think you want to do is have any information concerning anyone you have known, especially if that person is the Secret Keeper for your child's existence. Destroying such evidence would keep them safe," she replied, and Harry saw her point. After a few moments of thought, he stood up and went over to his school bag, and pulled out a well-worn photo album.

"I've got a few of my parents. You're welcome to see them, if you like," he offered, feeling a little awkward. Persephone smiled gratefully.

"That would be nice," she replied. Harry handed her the photo-album and she flicked through it with interest, stopping suddenly at one photograph. The one of his parents' wedding, with Sirius Black as the best man.

"Is that..." she began to ask, but Harry cut her off.

"Sirius Black, yes," he replied, almost challenging her to say something derogatory about his godfather. She scrutinised the photograph further.

"Wow, he made a handsome psychopath, didn't he?" she said, in a tone of sadness that struck Harry as somewhat odd, considering most of the wizarding world considered him an evil killer at large. However, before Harry even got a chance to be annoyed by her derogatory description of his late godfather, she quickly commented that their mother was rather pretty, actually, and it was a pity neither of her children had inherited that from her.

"I think we got the ugly genes from our fathers, mate. Though I think you fared better than me," she laughed.

"I don't think you're ugly," Harry replied, "just..."

"Odd looking?" she offered.

"I was going to say 'striking'," he replied. Persephone smiled.

"Polite term for odd-looking, Harry," she said with a grin, and Harry found himself laughing along with her. Suddenly, she got up and went towards her desk.

"Seeing as we're sharing photos," she said, "would you like to see some of mine? I have old school ones that are a bit of a laugh."

"Sure," Harry replied, as Persephone handed him a large, leather-bound photo-album. He opened it and saw a picture of her with what must have been a young Viktor Krum. They were grinning and waving their new Nimbus 1010 brooms with pride.

"Ahh, the good old days of the humble Nimbus 1010- we nicknamed it the 'Nim-ten-ten'," Persephone replied, noticing Harry's expression. However, this was not what had struck Harry. He was more surprised at how Viktor Krum resembled the vision of Snape he had seen in his pensieve last year; the hooked nose, the dark hair, the pale skin, the rounded shoulders and general awkwardness- even down to the same surly expression, which he had worn before Persephone had prodded him into smiling for the photograph.

"He looks like Snape did!" Harry said in surprise. Persephone peered at the photo and laughed.

"So he does! Actually, I'd noticed that before," she announced.

"When?" Harry asked. Persephone smiled.

"I was in Dumbledore's office, you know, when the big bad Snape family row broke out. Aunt Porphyria and Severus were really going for each other, Uncle Francois hadn't arrived yet, and I just decided to ignore them, and was looking at Dumbledore's collection of year photographs- he had one of the third year back in 1973, I think it was, and my first thoughts were 'What on Earth is Viktor doing in this photo?' Then I realised it was taken in Hogwarts during 1973 and that the caption underneath stated it was Severus Snape. It's pretty weird, isn't it?"

Harry nodded, and mutely decided never, ever to tell Hermione of this fact. He quickly flicked to further on in the photo album, and found a photo dated back to 1986. It was clearly after a Quidditch match, and featured Persephone and another girl, both dressed in pale blue and lilac Quidditch robes, proudly holding a trophy aloft. Harry was drawn to the other girl- she was very pretty, with bobbed blonde hair and a dimpled smile. She had eyes of a hue so bright, it was difficult to tell exactly where she was staring, and she also looked very short, though that could just have been because she was standing next to the rather statuesque Persephone.

Persephone leaned over Harry's shoulder and smiled knowingly.

"Ah, you've noticed Faith, then?" she asked. Harry nodded.

"Is that her name?" he asked.

"Yep. She was my best friend at Beaubaxtons. We bonded because we were the only English girls in a sea of French students, and boy, were the French students annoying! Well, I tell a lie. Most were cool, really, but some were really up themselves and such wusses!" she moaned.

"How so?" Harry asked. Persephone grinned and put on a very good French accent.

" 'Oh, zat dreadful Perzephone'- most of them couldn't pronounce my name- 'Zat Perzephone, she 'eet me wiz zat Bludger so very 'ard, I zink I might faint!' This is when a Bludger would have brushed past them! At Durmstrang, you bloody well got up and carried on if it broke your head open!"

Harry stifled a giggle. At least Hogwarts sounded like a happy medium between the two schools Persephone attended.

"Don't let her good looks fool you," Persephone continued, "she's an absolute genius! I'm talking beyond clever- the things she can come up with! I've never met anyone like her before or since. I chat to her a lot about this place- you know, she find it utterly fascinating!"

Harry purposefully closed the photo album to stop himself staring at the pretty girl, but a niggling thought in the back of his mind at the mention of her name didn't leave him for a few minutes.

Suddenly, there was a soft knock at the door.

"Come in," Persephone ordered. The door opened, and Harry saw that Augustine Dougherty was stood in the doorway.

"Percy," Augustine said, in an oddly respectful tone.

"Yes?" she asked. He looked at Harry, then appeared to carefully choose his words.

"I've found the folks that let her do it," he replied, cryptically. Persephone looked baffled for a moment, and then suddenly, her eyes narrowed in fury.

"Good, thank you, Augustine," she said, getting up and grabbing her thick woollen cloak.

"Harry, I've got to go out for a while, I'm afraid. I'll be back soon... Could you do me a favour and just put my photo album away? I'd rather not leave it lying around. Don't worry about locking up when you've finished- all you need to do is shut the door on your way out, a locking spell will activate automatically."

"Sure thing," Harry replied, offering a mock salute, which Persephone returned in good humour, before following Augustine out of her office, muttering under her breath about how 'she needs looking after', and 'it's a job to be taken very seriously, as 'she' is no invalid.'

Once she had left, Harry gathered up her photo album and wondered where he could put it, before deciding on her desk drawer. It was around this point that he suddenly registered something rather odd about Persephone's brief mention of Sirius Black.

She described him in the past tense.

'He made a handsome psychopath, didn't he?'.

She knew he was dead, and that's why she had sounded saddened. In Harry's eyes, it confirmed that the scroll she received at Halloween last year really had been from him. Shocked and angry, he yanked open the middle drawer of her desk to put her photo album away, and to find a piece of paper that he could write a note on asking her to explain exactly why she knew of his godfather's demise, when he noticed the base of the drawer didn't lie entirely flush with the walls of it. He grabbed a nearby dagger from Persephone's wall of weapons. Gently, he teased the blade between the minute gap and pushed upwards. The drawer base came away, leaving a much deeper space stuffed with papers.

He pulled some of them out, and was stunned by their contents. She had reams of cuttings from the Daily Prophet, all dating back to the Death Eater trials that occurred during the early eighties. There were paper folders in the drawer too, and Harry opened one to find an extensive file on Lucius Malfoy, that amongst other things, had current sightings noted in an obscure timeline. He opened another; it was all about Walden Macnair, and he noticed the word 'Faith' had been scrawled across one of the pieces of paper, and underlined thrice. He began to look around, seeing if he could spot one on Snape, but was distracted before he could by another single piece of parchment. It had a list of thirty-odd names, maybe more. Harry skim-read it, and saw familiar names such as Regulus Black (which had been crossed out), Igor Karkaroff (which had a small cross next to it, and the words 'not bloody likely, let's face it!' written next to it in impossibly tiny scrawl), Bellatrix Lestrange (this time a really odd symbol that Harry couldn't make out) and Severus Snape, which Harry noticed had a large question mark next to his name.

He would have thought more about this, had he not then found that all too familiar parchment with the broken metallic seal. He grabbed it hungrily and scoured its contents.

Hello Beauchamp,

Well, I've gone and snuffed it, but not before I got to see the 'Prophet. She's free- well done, you've got more balls than I gave you credit for. My humblest apologies, but please accept my admiration.

Anyway, looks like you now owe me a favour, and I'm afraid now is about the time I'm going to pull it in. You know what I ask of you- do me proud.

Sirius,

X x x

Harry's anger suddenly left him, and was replaced with utter confusion. What did Sirius do for Persephone? Who was free? And what did he want her to do in return?

By the time Harry had made his way back to the Gryffindor common room, it was around midnight, and his head was still spinning with the, quite frankly, odd discoveries he had made of his half-sister. He had waited in her office, hoping she would return, but sadly she did not. By quarter to twelve, he decided he ought to give up and try to find her tomorrow. Whatever happened, he wanted answers.

Ron was sat up waiting for him. Hermione had attempted to as well, although she had apparently fallen asleep over a pile of schoolwork.

"Hey, Harry," Ron whispered, before pointing at Hermione's sleeping frame. "I was about to take her up to her dormitory room, but then I remembered the whole 'stairs-turning-to-slides' thing, and thought better of it. We can't just wake her though, that'd be cruel; she looks so peaceful. Plus," he added, "this way she can't pester me about my schoolwork or about S.P.E.W."

Harry sat down and told Ron about everything he had found in Persephone's desk. Ron's eyes widened in shock the further Harry got into his story. Once he had finished, Ron appeared speechless. Eventually, he managed to speak.

"Blimey! So she's working for someone- maybe Dumbledore, or the Ministry, or..." He trailed off, though Harry knew what he was thinking, because he was thinking the same thing. Or the Brethren of Tyr.

"It's mad though, isn't it?" Ron asked, uncertainly. Harry shrugged his shoulders. The more he thought about it, the less mad it seemed. Persephone was the one who persuaded Draco to stay at Hogwarts during the Easter holidays when Malfoy Manor was attacked, after all. Plus, she was the one who figured out Snape had been a Death Eater in her first term of working with him. There was also the huge desk drawer of biographical evidence of at least thirty active and not-so-active Death Eaters.

"We don't even know they exist," Ron added, quietly. Harry shrugged his shoulders again. There was only one way they could get answers to this, and that was to ask the woman.

He glanced across at Hermione again, who was still fast asleep. He smiled at her, though she couldn't see, and leant over to see if he could slip a cushion between her arm and head and a warm throw over her body, so he would at least feel a little better about leaving her there to sleep off her academic overload. It was about then that he noticed what she was asleep on.

A Muggle newspaper lay under her. Harry gingerly lifted up her arm and pulled it out from under her, looking at the writing on it. The paper was 'The Observer' and had a note attached to it from Hermione's parents.

Dear Hermione,

Hope this helps answer your question. It was a simply vile attack that killed them; we were horrified anyone could do such a thing, which is mainly why we left Bradford to live in Ludlow at the time. I still miss them, even now- we used to baby-sit their little one, you know. I must admit I'm a little concerned as to why you're so interested- you aren't suffering problems at school are you?

Love, Mum

X x x

Harry lifted up the note and saw the paper was dated December 1979. It was about then he read the headline and spotted something that thickened the proverbial plot.

Ridley Family Killed in Mysterious Blaze.

Yesterday evening, the Ridley family from Bradford were killed in a horrific fire that swept through their home. Yolanda and Terrence Ridley were a married couple with one child, who ran a local dental practitioners in the town, and were well respected by their neighbours.

'It's a sad state of affairs when a whole family is killed by vicious thugs just because of the colour of their skin. Who cares if Yolanda was black and Terrence was white, the Ridleys were such a lovely couple, so kind and generous, and they had such a darling child, must've been about to take O levels. It makes me sick to my stomach that people could do such a thing- the culprits are no better than animals, in my opinion!' an elderly lady said to our reported today.

The coroner's reading is puzzling, for a statement released today says that the cause of death in still unconfirmed. No marks were found on the bodies, yet they were confirmed dead on arrival at the local hospital. Police are still hunting for their missing child, known only to 'The Observer' as Alex Ridley. Full details will be released in a police statement later this afternoon.

So, it looked like Hermione's parents had known who Alex Ridley was, but why did Persephone? Harry scrutinised the photograph of the Ridley home more closely, and saw to his horror that it had indeed been a racist attack, but not the kind The Observer had assumed.

In the corner of the black and white picture, almost out of shot, was a ghostly grey image of a skull with a snake protruding from its mouth, lighting the night sky above their roof.

Chapter Twenty-Four: Faith at Hogwarts Part Two

"Well, I'd imagine Alex was a Muggle born wizard- that at least would explain the attack. Perhaps if I do a search through the new intakes for Wizarding schools in Europe during the 1970's..." Hermione was muttering to herself as she searched through the public records of all the European wizarding schools. Ron sighed and looked up to the ceiling, Harry stayed standing where he was. Truth be known, he was quite curious as to what Hermione's search would bring up.

Suddenly, Hermione made a noise that suggested she had found something of interest.

"Harry," she asked, not looking up.

"Hmm?" he replied.

"Did Professor Beauchamp specifically state whether Alex was male?"

Harry thought about this.

"I don't think so," he replied. Hermione grinned in triumph and showed Harry a section of the book she was scanning through, on which Harry could make out the words 'Beaubaxtons Academy 1970-1990'.

"According to these records," she continued, "an Alexandra Ridley attended Beaubaxtons from 1975 to 1982, and during the academic year of 1979 to 1980, she didn't return back to school until the second week of the spring term! That does correlate with her going missing from Bradford in the December of 1979. I wonder if there is any information on what happened to her in the Daily Prophet or 'L'Oracle Quotidien'..." She trailed off, lost in her thoughts as she began to scan down the labels of the filing cabinets under the 'European Media' section of the library archives.

Ron was looking at his watch.

"Come on, Hermione, it's a Hogsmeade weekend, the library will still be open this evening, can't this wait?" he asked. Hermione glared at him.

"No, it can't," she replied, simply, before going back to her books. Ron looked at Harry, who shrugged.

"She's interested," he said, "and I can't say I blame her."

"Why can't she be interested this evening?" Ron retorted.

Hermione slammed her book down in annoyance.

"Fine," she retorted, "just go to Hogsmeade and I'll meet you in the Three Broomsticks at two o'clock. I am trying to work here, and you're just distracting me!"

Ron pulled a face.

"Well, fine, we'll do that then!" he snapped back, storming out of the library. Harry shrugged an apology at Hermione, before running after Ron.

"Is it that much of a crime to want to enjoy the one weekend a term we get to leave the school grounds?" Ron asked, once Harry had caught up with him. Harry shrugged.

"You know what Hermione is like once she gets her teeth into something, she's like a dog with a bone. She won't let it go until she's ready," he replied.

They passed the staircase leading to the second floor, when Harry grabbed Ron's arm.

"Do you mind if I just see if Persephone's in her office?" he asked. Ron sighed.

"Oh, all right," he replied, in mild irritation, changing direction and ascending the staircase.

The door to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom was shut. Harry knocked loudly on the door, but received no response. He tried to open the door, but it was locked. He cursed loudly, causing Ron to raise his eyebrows, which was a feat in itself.

"We'll come back after Hogsmeade," Ron suggested. "She's bound to be back by then."

Harry sighed.

"I hope so," he replied, darkly, before following Ron down the stairs and out to the Hogwarts' grounds.

They crossed the now familiar line between the school gates, and watched their names jump from the blackboard labelled 'in', to the blackboard labelled 'out' and continued down to Hogsmeade village. It was a pleasant walk, for the trees were now covered in thick green leaves and the flowers were almost in full bloom, not to mention the weather was quite clement, which although it is to be expected during the month of May, wasn't a common occurrence where they were situated.

After spending a pleasant morning buying copious amounts of confectionary from Honeydukes, and passing the Shrieking Shack and recalling not-so fond memories of finding out the rather disturbing link between Peter Pettigrew and the seemingly innocuous Scabbers the rat, Harry and Ron made their way to The Three Broomsticks to meet Hermione.

"It's only half past one," Ron remarked as he pushed the door to The Three Broomsticks open. "She's not going to be here yet."

"Oh well," Harry said, "we can at least get a table and wait for her."

"Fair play," Ron replied, sitting down at a table near the door and leaving Harry to go up to the bar. He eventually managed to make eye contact with Madam Rosmerta, who smiled at him.

"Well, hello, young Harry," she greeted, "how are you, love?"

"Fine thanks," Harry replied. Madame Rosmerta beamed.

"That's good to hear. Now, what can I get you?"

"Two Butterbeers, please," Harry requested. Madam Rosmerta smiled at him knowingly.

"Just you and Ron today?" she enquired. Harry nodded, though he was puzzled.

"How did you know?" he asked, knowing full well that as he, Ron and Hermione often entered The Three Broomsticks together, Madame Rosmerta had a choice of two people that might be missing from his company. The woman pointed across the other side of the pub, and Harry was stunned at what he saw. It just wasn't possible.

"Well," she replied, "they've been here for the past half hour, seeing. I know a first date when I see one- and I suppose you two are checking up on her?" she teased.

Harry simply couldn't form a reply. He took off his glasses, breathed on them, rubbed them against his robes, and put them on again, but he still saw the same thing. Hermione was sat at a table in the far end of The Three Broomsticks, talking intently with Draco Malfoy.

"I take it you didn't know, then?" Madam Rosmerta said, her expression changing from knowing amusement to genuine sympathy. Harry shook his head slowly.

"Not a clue," he replied, absently, before remembering to pay for the drinks and taking them over to Ron.

"What took you so long?" Ron asked, as Harry put a foaming tankard of Butterbeer in front of him. He briefly contemplated not even mentioning to Ron what he saw, for he knew it would just cause even more trouble, but just couldn't keep it to himself. He pointed across to the far side of the bar.

"Let's just say Hermione hasn't been spending that last half-hour in the library," he replied. Ron squinted to see through the dim light, and his expression suddenly turned sour, which suggested to Harry that he had seen the same thing he had.

"What the hell does she think she's playing at?" Ron asked, indignantly. Harry shrugged his shoulders.

"I really don't know..."

Ron had already stood up, his expression now livid.

"Right," he almost snarled, "I'm going to have words with our so-called chum. Hanging out with Malfoy, of all people- whatever happened to loyalty amongst friends, huh?"

Before Harry could stop him, Ron had stormed over to where Hermione and Draco were sitting and chatting intimately.

"What the hell is going on?" Ron demanded, slamming his fist on the table. Draco smirked.

"What's your problem, Weasel? We were just getting to know each other," he drawled. Ron looked even more furious. Draco leaned over, so only Ron and Harry could hear him.

"She's all right, you know, for a Mudblood. I can see why you two spend do much time with her, even if all you could get her to do for you was your homework..."

Ron and Harry simultaneously pulled out their wands and aimed them at a now sniggering Draco, although his eyes darted between the two nervously. Hermione stood up and waved her hand dismissively.

"Oh, Harry, Ron, do calm down!" she protested, "Draco and I are just having a chat. We're sorting stuff out- I'm sure you understand."

"Hermione!" Ron exclaimed, wide eyed in shock. She smiled.

"Look, I'll be fine, don't worry, I'll see you later," she replied, her eyes glancing around the room excitedly, before she took Draco's hand in hers and motioned for him to stand up, which he obeyed.

"C'mon, Draco," she said, "we should go."

Harry and Ron watched in utter horror as the two walked out of the pub, Draco with the smuggest expression Harry had ever seen outside of Lockhart's promotional photographs plastered over his face, Hermione smiling serenely, suggesting that they go to the Slytherin common room.

"I'd so like to see it, and anyway, it's bound to be quiet there. No one will spot us," she continued as they exited the pub.

Ron stormed back over to the table they had been sitting at, downed his Butterbeer in one and walked towards the exit, Harry having to almost jog to keep up with his long strides.

"That girl!" Ron raged as they walked towards Hogwarts. "First Viktor, now Malfoy- when's it going to end?"

Harry had to admit it was puzzling, not to say quite a betrayal, especially after everything she had confided in Harry about concerning Draco and his behaviour in the library. Yet it just didn't make sense somehow- why would Hermione willingly spend any amount of time with Draco, the boy who has spent the past five years insulting her heritage?

They crossed the line between the Hogwarts gates, and their names jumped from the 'out' blackboard to the 'in' blackboard, though neither of them noticed it. At that point, Harry noticed a familiar bushy haired girl walking towards them, looking puzzled as she recognised them.

"Harry, Ron?" she asked, "I thought we were meeting at the..."

Ron pushed past her.

"Don't play games with us, we're not stupid!" he spat as he walked away. Hermione looked hopefully at Harry.

"What's going on?" she asked.

Harry glared at her.

"We saw you in The Three Broomsticks with Malfoy. According to Madam Rosmerta, you'd both been there quite a while," he replied, tartly. Hermione's expression was one of utter bewilderment.

"You can't have done!" she protested. "I've only just left the library!"

"We saw what we saw. Trying to act like we're blind as well as stupid?" Ron retorted, nastily. Hermione looked genuinely crushed at his remarks.

"But I wasn't there!" she continued to protest. Harry softened a little at this.

"Hermione, we saw you," he replied, as gently as he could, considering his fury. She appeared to think about this.

"Alright, what was I wearing, then?" she asked, folding her arms and waiting for a response. Harry struggled to recall what clothing she had been in when they had seen her in The Three Broomsticks.

"Those jeans and that purple jumper you've got with the white stripe across the front," Ron replied, kicking at the gravel on the path. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Ron, I've got at least three pairs of these jeans, plus I only just lent that jumper you're talking about to Ginny. She's gone up to my dormitory to fetch it. Are you saying I put those clothes on, went to meet Malfoy in The Three Broomsticks, then rushed back here to get changed, told your sister to borrow the jumper I was wearing and then ran down here to bump into you and feign innocence over the whole thing?" she asked.

"That's about the shape of it," Ron replied. Hermione glared at him and put her hands on her hips.

"And do you realise how utterly ridiculous that sounds? First of all, I would never, ever fraternise with Malfoy of my own free will. Secondly, do you really think I would go to such lengths to keep it from you, even if I did?" she retorted. Ron and Harry exchanged glances. Harry was about to say something, but was interrupted by a panting Ginny almost running straight into them.

"Oh, sorry guys," she gasped, before turning her attention to Hermione.

"Hermione," she panted, "I just went to borrow that jumper. It wasn't there."

Hermione frowned.

"Not there? Did you look in the second drawer down, like I said?" she asked. Ginny nodded.

"That isn't all. It looks like someone's ransacked the place. Your stuff was everywhere."

Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged worried glances, before pelting across the Hogwarts grounds and into the castle, Ginny in hot pursuit, flying up the stairs of Gryffindor tower. They got to the common room, where Harry and Ron waited for the girls to examine Hermione's dormitory room.

"Stupid 'no boys' rule," Ron grumbled, as he paced the length of the deserted common room.

A loud trample of footsteps on stone indicated the two were running down the stairs to the common room. Ginny entered first, slumping down into a chair from the excess exertion, Hermione walking a little more slowly into the room. Harry saw she had gone very pale, and was holding a hairbrush.

"Look," she said quietly, handing Harry her big hairbrush. He could see quite clearly that the matted brown hair wound between the bristles had been tugged at.

"A set of my clothes have gone missing, hair from my hairbrush had been taken and you two saw me chatting to Malfoy in The Three Broomsticks whilst I was in the library? I think it all adds up to one thing," she explained, slumping down into a nearby chair herself.

Ron looked aghast.

"Polyjuice?" he asked. Hermione nodded.

"What else?"

"Malfoy must be in big trouble, if someone went to the trouble of polyjuicing themselves to get to him," Ginny added. Ron's eyes narrowed at this.

"Why you, Hermione?" he asked, "Why not Parkinson? It seems stupid to pick you, he's always horrible to you!"

"Maybe the person who polyjuiced themselves didn't do their research," Hermione replied, quickly. Harry understood the truth- the person who polyjuiced themselves really did do their research.

"We've got to do something," Hermione said, anxiously. Ron smirked.

"Why? This is Malfoy we're talking about!"

"Because," Hermione replied, "we're good people who won't go and let even someone we hate die!"

Ron grudgingly conceded to this.

"I suppose," he sighed. "Shouldn't we go and find Dumbledore, tell him what we think?"

Harry raised his hand.

"I'll go," he announced. "I reckon you should go and find Snape. He is Malfoy's Head of House."

Ron stared at Harry as though he had gone mad.

"Why me?" he protested.

"Take Hermione with you, then," Harry replied. Ginny glared at them.

"Excuse me? What do I get to do?" she asked, irritably. Harry looked at her.

"Try and find Malfoy, I suppose," he suggested. "I doubt he'd go with you to see Dumbledore, but you might at least be able to get him to see Snape, and to take the fake Hermione with him."

Ginny pulled a face.

"Great, I get all the best jobs," she huffed. Ron patted her on the shoulder.

"Well, you did ask..."

The four of them rushed off to complete their various tasks. Harry ran as fast as he could to Dumbledore's office, trying to block out the awful thought that had been gnawing at him ever since Hermione showed him her hairbrush. Whoever had pulled this stunt and lured Draco away to wherever he had been lured to had to be a member of the school- for they clearly knew the Gryffindor passwords, knew that Draco had developed some sort of strange fascination with Hermione over the past year, knew Hermione was friends with both him and Ron, and wasn't present in the school grounds at the moment. There was only one person that sprang to mind, considering the attack on Malfoy Manor at Easter and her desire to make sure Draco stayed in Hogwarts around the same time- Persephone Beauchamp. But, after going to such lengths to keep him safe from the attack, why lure him out? Perhaps he would make a good bargaining chip against the Death Eaters... oh, why was he even thinking his half-sister capable of such a thing? They had the same good, decent mother!

Although, Harry was reminded, they have very different fathers, and besides, people rarely become carbon copies of their parents. Just look at Barty Crouches Junior and Senior.

Dumbledore was not in his office. Harry, in a state of blind panic, even went so far as to look under the desk of his circular office in case he was there, but to no avail. He scratched his head for a moment, then ran out of Dumbledore's office to McGonagall's. She was a member of the Order; she ought to be able to do something!

Suddenly, he backtracked, for something on Dumbledore's desk had caught his eye. A blank piece of parchment. Surreptitiously, he took it and stuffed it into his pocket, ignoring the disapproving comments from the portraits of the previous headmasters.

He raced up Gryffindor tower, and knocked frantically on McGonagall's office door, not stopping until she answered, at which she opened the door with a rather irritated expression.

"Goodness, Mr. Potter, what on earth is it?" she demanded. Harry struggled for breath.

"It's Malfoy," he managed, "he's gone off with Hermione, except it isn't Hermione..."

McGonagall grabbed him by the shoulders.

"For heaven's sake, calm down, Mr. Potter!"

"But Professor..." Harry suddenly remembered the parchment he had filched from Dumbledore's desk. He hoped it was what he thought it was. Hastily, he pulled the scrap of parchment out of his pocket, and tapped it with his wand.

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good," he announced, McGonagall looked disapprovingly at him as a map of Hogwarts suddenly appeared upon the previously blank parchment.

"I'm sure that Professor Dumbledore took that into his care for safe keeping," she remonstrated, sternly. Harry nodded.

"Yeah, I took it back to show you," he gasped, scanning the map frantically for the dots that resembled Malfoy, Ron or Hermione. It didn't take him long to find all three. They were in Snape's office, along with the greasy-haired Potions Master himself. Harry jabbed at the map.

"See? Look, there's Ron and Hermione, Draco, Snape and..."

McGonagall took the map from him and examined it.

"Faith Hamilton?" she said, to nobody in particular, and Harry's heart suddenly lifted at the realisation that Persephone had nothing to do with the entire incident, then promptly sank when he realised he had heard the name before. Faith Hamilton was Persephone's best friend at Beaubaxtons.

"How is that possible- she's in Azkaban!" McGonagall exclaimed.

Harry's stomach suddenly felt as though it had been lined with lead all of a sudden. His half-sister has a friend who has wound up in Azkaban? Then again, he did have a godfather who had wound up there too. Perhaps it was just another thing they had in common? He stood on his tiptoes and stared over McGonagall's shoulder, and watched helplessly as the five dots moved towards a wall and suddenly disappeared one by one.

McGonagall grabbed a pinch of green powder and tossed it into her fireplace, before kneeling down and putting her head into the green flames.

"Albus, Albus!" she called, but apparently was receiving no response.

Approximately five minutes later, Harry heard running footsteps reach McGonagall's office, and the door suddenly shot open.

"Minerva, you've got to come quickly, there's been an incident in Severus' office," Persephone explained, in an authoritative tone. McGonagall clucked.

"We've just witnessed it," she replied, showing Persephone the map in her hands. Persephone scrutinised it.

"It shows everyone in the building and where the are," Harry explained, pointing to where McGonagall's office was depicted, and the three dots labelled 'Harry Potter', 'Minerva McGonagall' and 'Persephone Beauchamp'. The latter nodded in understanding.

"So, what happened, then?"

McGonagall explained about the five people on the map who vanished through a wall, and which Persephone looked notably concerned.

"Faith?" she asked, her eyed widened. McGonagall nodded.

"Apparently she has escaped from Azkaban."

"Of course she escaped from Azkaban," Persephone snapped. "I was the one that broke her out!"

Harry literally felt as though someone had just punched all the air out of him.

"You what?" he managed to say. Persephone sighed irritably.

"Now really isn't the time. Come with me and I'll explain everything," she replied, running out of the office. McGonagall followed her, and so did Harry.

"Your explanation had better be good, Persephone," McGonagall warned as they ran down to the dungeons and across to Snape's office.

The door was wide open.

"Why didn't you just use the Floo network to get down here?" McGonagall panted.

"Because I have no idea what Faith has done to the fireplace- she has a habit of jinxing them if she doesn't want anyone to follow her," Persephone replied. "Besides, all five of them have clearly used it, and I want to be certain before..."

She stopped suddenly. The office was an absolute tip. Papers and books were strewn across the floor, and a large proportion of the jars containing pickled creatures lay smashed there as well. A whole bookcase had been upended, and the side of Snape's desk was smoking. Persephone placed a hand on the fireplace.

"Still warm," she commented, still glancing around the room. Harry looked to McGonagall, who was pale.

"Oh, Persephone," she exclaimed, her anger having left her, "you don't think she had anything to do with Death Eaters..."

"Not a chance," Persephone replied, in a clipped tone, "not Faith. Besides, this is far too messy. Death Eaters are trained to cover their tracks, they wouldn't be this... Hang on a moment." She lifted up a small pendant that Harry instantly recognised as Hermione's.

"Well, there was definitely a struggle, if the miniature apocalypse in Severus' office isn't proof enough."

She handed the pendant to McGonagall, who put it in her pocket.

"You don't think..."

"I think they're all alive, and relatively unharmed," Persephone finished. Harry felt compelled to add something to the conversation.

"What the hell is going on!" he yelled.

"Language, Mr. Potter!" McGonagall snapped. Persephone sighed, and took off her robes, leaving her clad in her oriental-style black trousers with a red trim and a black vest top. She pointed at the tattoo of a blazing sun pieced by a chain that wound around both her upper arms.

"Does that answer your question?" she demanded. Harry had to admit he wasn't entirely stunned by the revelation. McGonagall, on the other hand, was.

"The Brethren of Tyr? But they're a myth!" she exclaimed.

"No, they're not. Granted, there are many myths surrounding our existence, but we are a very real organisation," Persephone replied.

McGonagall put her hand to her mouth.

"You mean you were responsible for kidnapping three of our students and a teacher?" she exclaimed, trembling with what Harry assumed to be anger, from the way her lips had thinned. Persephone shook her head.

"Not us- her. Faith. Believe me." She laughed harshly. "Many of the rumours and myths of the Brethren of Tyr have been grossly exaggerated. However, Faith was unfairly imprisoned in Azkaban for eighteen months before we could free her, and the experience scarred her more deeply than anyone could have dreamt. It also left her with one hell of an axe to grind. We try our best to take care of her, but sometimes she slips through our fingers..."

"Get to the point!" McGonagall snapped. Persephone turned to look her in the eye.

"It was Faith who attacked Malfoy Manor in April. It was lucky I had asked Draco to stay behind to improve his grades over the holidays- pure coincidence, mind. I was furious when Augustine told me what had happened..."

Harry felt his jaw drop.

"Augustine's a member too?" he asked. Persephone nodded.

"There are a lot of us. We've spent the past sixteen years trying to build bridges between Muggles and wizards, and the last eighteen months doing the work the Ministry should have," she replied.

Harry was dumbfounded.

"So, that expected Death Eater attack in Somerset..."

Persephone's eyes narrowed.

"How did you know about that?" she asked, suspiciously, but Harry didn't care. At least it explained that erroneous information Snape gave the Order over Christmas. It wasn't deception, or a false alarm at all- the Brethren of Tyr simple got there before the Order of Phoenix.

"Persephone, what do you mean Faith Hamilton sometimes slips through your fingers?" McGonagall repeated, in a tone of pure fury that appeared to wilt Persephone's previous steely disposition.

"After Azkaban, Faith's naturally been a concern of ours," she continued, "and she's been after Severus Snape ever since she left Azkaban."

McGonagall anger seemed to leave her, only to be replaced by utter astonishment.

"Why?"

Persephone laughed harshly again.

"Question one, Minerva- what do the following people have in common: Rosier, Snape, Travers and Wilkes?"

McGonagall looked warily at Persephone, who merely continued.

"Answer- they were all involved in the raid that Voldemort had carried out on the Hamilton family in 1979, the raid that left them all dead except for their three year old daughter, who's mother managed to hide her in the airing cupboard during the massacre. Now for the bonus round- who is the odd one out of these four- Rosier, Snape, Travers and Wilkes?"

"Snape is the only one who turned away from Lord Voldemort," McGonagall replied, defensively. Persephone shook her head.

"That's as may be, but to Faith, Snape is the only one of her family's killers that isn't dead. Yet. Faith is desperate for vengeance, and I fear he is in far worse trouble than Voldemort would ever put him in."

McGonagall looked pale.

"No... no, you can't be suggesting... Severus wouldn't..."

"Oh for Heaven's sake, Minerva, he was a Death Eater! What did you think he did, make the tea?" Persephone spat.

"But, he's your father!" McGonagall stammered. Persephone looked as though she was losing patience.

"I know!" she hissed. "I know he's my father, I know he was a Death Eater- that in itself was obvious- and I know who he killed and who he didn't kill, and so does Albus. He told me," she finished, quietly.

McGonagall looked as though she had been stunned into silence. Harry felt no different. He and Ron had often joked that they wouldn't put it past Snape to murder any of his students with a potion, but he had never imagined that Dumbledore would willingly hire him, knowing that he had killed people. He felt sick.

"I'm truly sorry it has come to this," Persephone said, and the look on her face told Harry she meant it. "But if you want Severus back in one piece, we need to act quickly. Plus I can't guarantee Faith won't turn on the children. Hermione I reckon will be okay, seeing as she's a Muggle-born too. Ron might be fine as well- his father is known to be fond of Muggles, and his Ministry position hasn't affected that. Draco, however, I do fear for, especially if Faith works out he's the son of Lucius, which let's face it, won't take long- they're practically identical."

She looked straight at McGonagall.

"Will you help us?" she asked. McGonagall sighed.

"I can't speak for Albus..."

"All I ask is that you keep a few geographical secrets," Persephone replied, pointedly. McGonagall nodded.

"I don't want to see them hurt anymore than you do," she replied. Persephone seemed to take that as a 'yes.'

"Dextera; Priori inviso!" she commanded, and the fireplace suddenly burst into purple flames, depicting a scene of an abandoned pub in rural England. The corners of the room were covered in cobwebs and the windows were boarded up. Right in the top corner of the room, Harry could see a Muggle photo of a small Alsatian puppy sitting next to a road sign, which read 'Cheadle', balanced on the mantelpiece in a wood-finish frame. Persephone grimaced at this.

"Just as I thought."

"What!" Harry asked, feeling extremely agitated at this point.

"She's taken them to our headquarters- why else would anyone willingly go to Cheadle?"

Harry was surprised.

"That's your headquarters?" he asked. Persephone shook her head.

"No, but you need to take five different Floo routes across Staffordshire to get there- protection from outsiders accidentally finding our scene of operation," she replied.

"Where is your scene of operation?" McGonagall asked. "I'm presuming we shall need backup."

Persephone nodded.

"That's a good idea, Minerva," she replied. "Can you go and find Dumbledore? Tell him to head for The Three Lions in Cheadle via Floo; I'll send Augustine to meet him."

McGonagall nodded.

"I hope you know what you're doing," she replied, before obeying Persephone's request and leaving the office.

Harry tugged at her arm.

"What can I do?" he asked. Persephone looked at him as though he had gone mad.

"You can stay here!" she exclaimed. Harry laughed bitterly.

"Oh, no way!" he replied. "My friends are with that woman- I want to see that they're okay!"

Persephone sighed, and held out her hand.

"Fine, I don't have time to argue. I hope your Concealment Charm is a good one."

Harry shook his head.

"Don't need it. I've got an Invisibility Cloak," he replied. Persephone raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"Or you could use that," she replied, quickly, before throwing a pinch of Floo powder into the fire.

"The Three Lions, Cheadle. The Rigger, Newcastle-Under-Lyme. The Crown, Tamworth. Bass Brewery, Burton-Upon-Trent," she announced in succession. The flamed jumped higher, and invited them to step into the fireplace.

"Where are we going to end up?" Harry asked, still holding onto Persephone's hand. She smiled grimly.

"Final destination: The Bull Ring, Birmingham," she finished, before they both jumped into the flames and disappeared out of Hogwarts.