The Brethren of Tyr

Chapter Twenty-Five: Alex Ridley and The Brethren of Tyr

After what was probably the most vomit-inducing case of Floo travel Harry had ever had the misfortune to experience, he stumbled out of the abandoned pub he had ended up in and found himself facing what was perhaps the most vile looking building he had, again, ever had the misfortune to witness. It was cylindrical and covered in panels of an odd shade of dirty lime green. He could see windows peeking out of the concrete every four meters up or so, until it reached the flat roof, which had a bizarre black cylinder stuck on top of it, as though someone had fitted it with a top hat three times too small.

"Welcome to Birmingham," Persephone said. Harry looked around him, there were people shopping everywhere, bustling around various market-stalls as well as rushing in and out of the cylindrical building in front of them.

"That's your headquarters?" he asked. To be honest, he had been expecting something a little grander. Persephone grinned.

"Yep- well, they're actually underground. Now, just follow me," she instructed, and Harry did as he was told.

They entered the building and Harry noticed there was yet another market inside. Judging from the smell of raw fish and meat, it was a food market. He tried desperately to ignore a man dressed in a white overcoat and hairnet hack into what was clearly half a cow dangling over a large chopping board. It wasn't too difficult, as Persephone was pulling him through the crowds of people clamouring to buy 'three pounds o' top quality beef' from a woman who's market-stall sign proudly proclaimed 'B.S.E. claims are an insult to consumer choice- our beef is safe as houses- buy British!'

"Keep up," Persephone ordered, eventually stopping at a broom cupboard. She placed her right hand on the door and her left hand against the handle.

"Sinistra; salutationis."

A red light travelled from the base of her right palm to the tips of her fingers, before Harry heard a small clicking noise, and Persephone tried the door handle with her left hand, which opened with ease.

The door closed behind them, and Harry saw an escalator directly in front of them. Persephone stood on it, and rested her hand on the revolving handrail, and urged Harry to do the same. They travelled slowly down for about thirty seconds, before it jerked to a stop.

"Name?" a voice called. Harry looked about for a person to attach to the voice, but he could spot no one.

"Beauchamp, Persephone. I have a visitor with me, one Potter, Harry," Persephone announced, clearly.

"Hand?" the voice called. Persephone held her hand out, and motioned for Harry to do the same. He became dimly aware of a bright white light circling his hand, getting closer and closer to his skin, until it made contact and left him with the sensation that he had just plunged his hand into a bowl of cold semolina pudding. Shortly after, the sensation disappeared.

"Proceed," the voice called again, and the escalator steps suddenly flattened out into a slope. Harry felt a sharp nudge in the crook of his knees, then found himself being seated what looked like a utilitarian sofa. A strap quickly snaked itself around his waist and held him in place. Persephone turned to smile at him.

"Brace yourself," she said, and no sooner were the words out of her mouth than the entire sofa zoomed down the slope so fast that Harry felt his head squash into the back of the sofa, and wondered if he would ever be able to move it again.

Within seconds, the sofa had come to a stop, and Harry was thrust against the binds of the strap around his waist. Then they uncoiled from around him, and he was free to stand up. Persephone put a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"You okay?" she asked. Harry nodded.

"Yeah, I think so," he lied, for truthfully he was feeling a little queasy. She smiled and patted him on the back with a mild force that he thought for a moment might make him vomit.

"Good man."

She looked briefly around her.

"Right," she announced, "we need to find Faith and the others. Keep hold of my hand, if anyone spots someone they don't recognise, it can get ugly. This place isn't designed for visitors and guests."

Harry nodded in understanding, and took the chance to look around as Persephone took his hand and walked forwards. It was truly an impressive sight, as far as interiors of authority buildings go, and Harry had only the Ministry of Magic to compare it with. The corridor was light and spacious, with numerous tantalising doors flanking each side. Harry craned to read the titles embossed in bold black font upon on the brass coloured doors as Persephone led him down a myriad of stairs and corridors. He distinctly saw the titles 'Muggle/Wizard Weaponry Department', 'Muggle/Wizard Currency Exchange Department', 'Muggle/Wizard Information Department', 'Werewolf and Vampire Integration Society' and the one which amused him the most: 'House-Elf Employment Department'. He imagined Hermione would be thrilled at such an inclusion.

Providing, of course, she was okay.

"Oh, I've been so stupid," Persephone muttered to herself. Harry glared at her.

"Are you saying this is your fault?" he asked, hotly. Persephone shrugged.

"Partly, I suppose." She looked around briefly. "I chat to Faith about Hogwarts; just the stuff that might make her laugh, you know. It's good to see her laugh. I mentioned to her about Draco's interest in Hermione ages ago- she kept asking me to tell her more about it, as though it was some kind of ongoing story. I mentioned once how Dean Thomas found it impossible to say 'Queerditch Marsh' without laughing... No wonder she managed to pull it off!"

Harry was puzzled.

"You hardly said a great deal," he replied. Persephone exhaled loudly.

"Faith's a genius- she doesn't need much information to form a plan, and I just handed her bait for a trap, and a password to obtain it," she replied.

Suddenly, Harry found himself face to chest with a tall man of stocky build and worn features. He pushed a mane of reddish-blonde hair out of his face and smiled warmly at Persephone.

"Hey, Beau," he said, languidly, but was cut off by Persephone.

"Don't you 'Hey, Beau' me, Sam! What in heaven persuaded you to let her out unaccompanied?" she demanded, furiously. Sam looked genuinely confused.

"What are you on about, Beau?" he asked. Persephone's eyes narrowed.

"Faith. She paid a visit to Hogwarts today," she replied. Sam's expression was one of shock, and it emphasised his tired looking eyes.

"She hasn't left... oh, wait. She did have one of her turns and begged me to find her a 'Best of The Bangles' CD."

Persephone was glaring at Sam, who visibly recoiled under her smouldering anger.

"I'm so sorry, Beau," he protested, "but you know how upset she gets, and it's really hard to ignore her..."

"She used it as an excuse to get you away from her, presumably. She came to Hogwarts, and captured three of my students and a fellow professor."

Sam's eyebrows had now risen at least half an inch.

"You mean she went after Snape?" he asked. Persephone nodded, and he sounded a low whistle in response.

"We've got to find him before she does something awful to him," Persephone said, in concerned tones. Sam laughed hoarsely.

"Since when have we suddenly started caring what happens to Death Eaters, ex or otherwise?" he asked.

Now it was Harry's turn to look surprised.

"How do you know?" he demanded. Sam turned to look at him.

"Who is this?" he asked Persephone.

"Harry Potter," she replied. Harry felt Sam stare hard at the scar on his forehead.

"You mean, this is the saviour of the wizarding world?" he exclaimed, with disappointment in his voice, Harry noticed with a flush of indignation. Sam laughed again.

"We'd better step up our efforts, Beau. I'd rather not rely on that Prophecy if this kid's the key."

Harry glared at both Persephone and Sam.

"How much exactly do you know about me, then?" he asked, angrily. Persephone had the grace to look embarrassed, at least.

"Pretty much everything," she admitted. "Sam and I are heads of the Muggle/Wizard Information Department- we work in espionage."

The realisation of this hit Harry hard.

"You mean, you've been working in Hogwarts as a spy?" he exclaimed, every fibre of his being tensing with fury. Persephone straightened her back, then looked him in the eye.

"I'll apologise for a lot of things, Harry, but I will never apologise for doing what I think is right. We needed to see how the land lay. We'd been doing our best to pick up the Ministry's slack all of last year, but a few things didn't add up. I was sent to take the Defence Against the Dark Arts position in order to make sure you lot were well protected and to fill in those missing gaps of information."

"You mean about Dumbledore? About me?" Harry spat. Persephone sighed.

"I mean about everything... Look," she snapped back, "this isn't the time. Let's find your friends, and then we can have an argument about this."

Harry was silenced by this, but his anger wasn't quelled. He had far too many unanswered questions for that to happen anytime soon.

Suddenly, and inexplicably, Sam tilted his head and sniffed at the air.

"She's in her workshop," he replied, "with four others. I don't recognise their scent. They've not been there long, I don't think."

Persephone screwed up her face in an odd mixture of disgust and amusement.

"Have I reminded you that, despite its usefulness, that is one pretty gross side effect you've got yourself there?" she asked. Sam merely grinned, and sniffed the air.

"Have I reminded you that I think you're due on tomorrow, Beau?" he retorted, in jest.

A loud siren suddenly blared throughout the entire corridor.

"...Warning, warning, intruder alert, intruder alert, all guards to sector three fifteen..." a disembodied voice announced, far more calmly than Harry would expect, given the circumstances.

"Three fifteen- that's here," Persephone announced suddenly, before turning to Harry.

"Get out of here," she hissed, before a jet of red light careered towards her. She ducked it, and sent a counter-curse flying in front of her. Harry heard a female scream, one he recognised only too well.

Tonks had hit the wall with some force, though she still managed to throw another curse at Persephone, which hit her arm and made her wince in pain.

"Right, you bitch!" she hissed, pulling a sword from out of nowhere. "It's time to teach you a lesson in knocking!"

"No!" Harry cried, but a jet of yellow light hit Persephone's wrist, forcing her to drop her weapon. One look at the greying man responsible made Harry's heart jump. It was Lupin, who was suddenly pounced upon by Sam, who punched him so hard across the jaw, he staggered and had to wipe at the smear of blood that began to trickle from his nose. Tonks stared at the pair furiously and aimed another jet of blue light at them, at which Persephone ducked and hit her with a disarming charm to get her wand, which Lupin knocked out of her hand with a deft 'buttery' jinx that caused her hands to become slippery.

"Just turn left at the end, go down the stairs and turn right. Faith's workshop has her name on it!" Persephone ordered, before Tonks hit her with a jet of blue light from her wand, and she doubled up in pain. Harry looked at the scene in horror, then thought about what might be happening to Ron and Hermione, and ran as fast as he could towards the end of the corridor, following her instructions.

By the time he had descended the long staircase, he thought it might be prudent to put on his Invisibility Cloak. He had stashed it away in the pockets of his robes, which fortunately were large enough to hold it. The fabric fell down to his ankles, and, confident he was hidden from view, he continued along the corridor, looking for Faith Hamilton's workshop amongst the silver coloured doors with black embossed writing on them. This area of the Brethren of Tyr's headquarters was much darker in colour, for the corridors were a deep sapphire blue shade, making all the doors stand out, but making distinguishing the floor from the walls a little more difficult. Harry nearly walked into the corner of the corridor before he finally found a silver door with the words 'Faith's Workshop' embossed on the door in what clearly used to be black font, except that somebody had used poster-paints to colour each letter in blue and pink alternately. There was a slightly dog-eared poster that was stuck to the door with Spellotape, which had a stationary photograph of five men dressed in pastel-coloured suits with humongous shoulder pads, with the legend 'Spandau Ballet' printed across the top. Harry noticed the door was ajar, and, holding his breath, he surreptitiously crept inside.

The room he found himself in was amazing. It was at least twenty by ten feet, with a high ceiling that certainly didn't match the underground setting, and was covered in bizarre scribbles, which on closer inspection Harry took to be formulae of some sort. The thick black scribbles covered the sky-blue walls as well and were squashed around various bookcases and shelves stuffed with contraptions that Harry couldn't begin to guess what they might be, though he thought he had spotted a few Sneak-o-scopes, at least a dozen brightly pattered music boxes and a Hand of Glory sat on a cushion that was being used to hold hair scrunchies and bracelets.

He turned his head and was faced with an enormous machine that seemed to stretch across an entire wall. It consisted of four iron staffs with a crystal ball at the top of each one, arranged like the posts on a four-poster bed might be. The space in between the staffs was filled with what appeared to be a garish map of some description. The first two staffs held a huge complicated clock in place, which consisted of three concentric circles; the outermost one had numbers from one to a hundred printed around the edge, the one inside that had the letters J, F, M, A, M, J, J, A, S, O, N, D printed around the edge in a clockwise pattern. The final circle inside that one had the numbers one to thirty-one printed around its edge, and held three clock hands of differing lengths at its centre. Underneath the huge circles was a small wooden panel with the number nineteen burned onto the wood, and a bulbous handle attached to its side. A large black Maltese cross had been painted onto the floor directly in front of the odd device.

Suddenly, Harry heard muffled calls of distress, and turned to face the direction that they were coming from. In the near distance, he could see Ron being pushed against a wall and slumping onto the floor, his red hair flopping forward. Hermione was next, though she appeared to be being handled with more care, and she sat down without arguing.

Harry crept closer to the scene, and was able to see what had happened to Draco and Snape. Draco looked rather scared, and kept glaring at Hermione as though the entire situation was somehow her fault, which Hermione ignored, but Ron visibly bristled at. Coils of pink light appeared to be preventing all three of them from moving away from the wall they had been thrust against. Snape was slumped heavily against another wall, apparently unconscious, yet his arms were held aloft. Another quick glance in his direction, and Harry was able to work out why, as he saw the heavy iron shackles that kept him in place.

A small girl was pacing in a triangular pattern, humming a tune to herself that Harry vaguely recognised from his first Occlumency lesson with Persephone. He saw that she had blonde hair pulled into pigtails and was dressed in short pale blue robes that were not fastened, showing a pleated skirt and blouse underneath. She wore white lace knee socks and a pair of flat black patent shoes with a t-bar buckle fastening. Her pacing pattern changed, and she began to chew on the end of one of her pigtails, turning to look Harry directly in the eye, only she evidently wasn't aware she had done so. Harry had to stop himself from jumping in shock. The face was hollow and the eyes sunken, but there was no mistaking those unnaturally bright eyes. He hadn't been looking at a small girl at all. He was looking at Faith Hamilton.

"Something's not right in here," she was moaning, pacing in smaller and smaller circles, bobbing her head a little from side to side as though it wasn't attached properly to her neck. After a few moments of this, she whirled round and grabbed a pair of thick-rimmed glasses from a nearby table. She balanced them carefully on the bridge of her nose, and stared directly at Harry once more.

"Hmm, something's different, I tell no joke, there's a boy in this room with an Invisibility Cloak!" she lilted. Harry froze.

All of a sudden, she broke into a run and didn't stop until she was nose to nose with Harry, at which point she yanked his Invisibility Cloak off his shoulders.

"Do you want to play?" she asked, loudly, staring wildly at him. Harry glared back at her.

"No, I want my friends back," he demanded. Faith shrugged her shoulders, pointed her wand at him and before he had even registered the movement, he was stuck by an intense pain he had only experienced once before, and that was at the hand of Voldemort.

"Crucio!" she sang, and Harry felt the pain strike him again. After what felt like half an eternity, she ended the curse, and Harry fell to his knees. She bent over him and stared at him with wide eyes.

"Do you want to play?" she shouted, hotly.

"Just say yes, Harry," Ron cried, weakly, from the wall. Faith beamed.

"See, the boy knows what's good for him, even if his head is on fire," she giggled, hitting Harry with another curse that caused a pink light to fasten around his arms and waist, then to his ankles, clamping them together. Faith dragged him along to the wall where Ron, Hermione and Draco were being restrained, and he too was thrust into the wall and sank to the floor.

"Alright, Harry?" Ron whispered. Harry nodded.

"Persephone is here," he replied, "so are some of the Order."

Ron appeared to breathe a sign of relief.

Draco was struggling desperately against his bonds, but to no avail. Hermione was sat watching Faith with concern clearly etched into her features, as the woman dressed as a child dragged a trunk across the floor to where Snape was currently being held. She undid the chains that were wrapped around it, perched herself on the edge of the trunk, and began to slap Snape across the face, in an attempt to wake him up.

"Ooh," she moaned, "he's a heavy sleeper, isn't he?"

After a few seconds of jabbing her index finger into his closed eyes without the man so much as flinching, she broke into another child-like song.

"Wake up, Mr. Snape, wake up! You'll miss the best part of the day! Your head should be buzzing, like mine has day after day after day after..."

"He won't wake up," Hermione shouted. Faith snapped her head around to face Hermione.

"Excuse me, little girl?" she spat. Ron looked at Hermione.

"What are you doing!" he hissed.

"He won't wake up," Hermione continued, slightly irascibly, "because you put him under the Stunning Spell. He won't wake up unless you use your wand."

Faith stared at her, and for a moment Harry thought she was going to rip Hermione's throat out.

"You're absolutely right!" she exclaimed, slapping her hand to her forehead. She pulled out her wand and pointed it at Snape.

"Ennervate!" she commanded, and Snape jolted awake. Faith clapped enthusiastically.

"Hooray!" she exclaimed, "well done, little girl!"

She jumped up off the trunk and opened a nearby cupboard, pulling out a large tin, which she carried over to Hermione.

"Have a cookie!" she offered. Hermione shook her head weakly.

"Oh no, I couldn't..."

Faith's expression soured.

"Have a cookie!" she demanded. Hermione nodded.

"Okay," she agreed, in a clear attempt to mollify the girl.

"I have chocolate chip or raisin," Faith continued.

"Whichever you think would be best," Hermione replied, quickly. Faith beamed, and picked out a large chocolate chip cookie, motioning for Hermione to open her mouth, which she obeyed. Faith stuffed the cookie halfway into Hermione's mouth and left her to figure out how to eat it.

Draco shot an angry glance at Hermione.

"What did you do that for, you stupid cow!" he hissed. Hermione glared back at him with equal loathing, then bit the cookie in half, quietly spitting the half in her mouth out, and letting the two halves fall into her lap.

"Well, unless you wanted her to blind and kill Professor Snape in the process of attempting to wake him, I think you'll find I did it for a damn good reason!" she snapped back. Draco seemed unable to think of any decent retort.

"Idiot Mudblood," he muttered, under his breath, though Hermione's facial expression indicated she had heard him.

A sudden stillness of Faith's head, as though she were a rabbit caught in headlights, suggested to Harry that Hermione wasn't the only one who had heard.

"Crucio," she commanded, cheerily, as though she were welcoming a passenger onto an aeroplane, pointing her wand at Draco and causing his to curl up in agony as the curse did its work. She stopped, and he lay prostrate on the ground, his eyes shut tight and groaning in pain. She grabbed him by the ear and dragged him up to a sitting position.

"Now," she scolded, "that wasn't very polite, was it?"

Draco made no reply, so Faith struck him hard against his jaw with a well-aimed slap.

"Was it!" she shouted, merely inches from his ear. Draco shook his head.

"N... no, no it wasn't," he managed to stammer, Faith nodding slowly as he did so.

"So, say sorry!" she demanded. Draco looked across at Hermione with an expression of utmost loathing. Faith pinched the skin where his shoulder and neck met between her thumb and index finger, and began to twist.

"Say. Sorry!" she repeated, more harshly.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"Louder!" Faith yelled in his ear, and his breathing suddenly got a lot quicker.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" he pleaded. Faith looked at Hermione expectantly.

"It's okay," she replied, nervously. Faith frowned at her.

"You're too nice," she replied, "I'd have said, 'no, sorry isn't good enough, you inbred little cretin!' and then slapped him some more, see?"

Faith struck Draco across the face again to emphasise her point, then shrugged.

"Your choice, though," she conceded.

Snape appeared to have recovered from Faith's curse, for he now sat, tugging at his shackles, with an expression of horror.

"What in Merlin's name is going on?" he demanded, groggily. On hearing this, Faith ignored Draco and turned her full attention to their Potions professor once again, skipping over to him and perching herself on the trunk next to his feet again.

"Hello Mr. Snape," she lilted, "my name's Faith, and I will be your torturer for this evening!"

Snape looked at her with a mixture of horror, indignation and bewilderment.

"Excuse me?"

Faith, humming to herself all the while, grabbed one of the chains that had been holding her trunk together, wrapped it around her wrist and whipped it against Snape's jaw. He turned his face to lessen the impact, and grunted in pain. Faith wagged her finger.

"Tut, tut, that isn't playing the game!" she sang. Snape glared at her.

"You're wasting your time," he spat, "you'll get no information out of me, whatever you try."

Faith smiled maliciously.

"Well, that's just super," she replied, cheerily, "because I don't want any information from you! I just want to torture you slowly until you die."

Harry noticed her beaming expression did not change as she said those words. Ron and Hermione's eyes widen in revulsion. Draco was equally, if not more, horrified.

"What?" he exclaimed, struggling against his bonds. "Why?"

Faith turned to face him as though he had asked her if she would set him free and pay for any damage done to his robes.

"Well, I hate him," she replied, as though it was the most rational reason anyone would torture another human being. "So, I quite like the idea of torturing him." She turned to Snape and a slow, humourless smile crept across her hollowed face. "When you first visited my home, I was too young to own a screwdriver kit, and I'm just dying to see what'll happen if I try to disembowel you with it. Or rather, you will." She shrieked with laughter at her joke.

Draco's face fell.

"What has he ever done to you?" he asked, quietly. Faith turned to face him.

"Oh, nothing directly," she admitted, before turning back to face Snape.

"I've been looking forward to finally meeting you, Mr. Snape. I don't think you know me, but you knew my mummy and daddy, and Granny Issy and Grandpa Jacob, and my big brother Luke, and my dog, Rupert..."

Snape looked horrified.

"The Hamiltons?" he gasped. Faith looked surprised.

"Oh, so you do remember! I was beginning to think I was the only one. When you came to visit the first time, they were roasting marshmallows in the fire in our living room, and playing Scrabble. My mummy was very clever, I'd imagine. She showed big kids in university how numbers and equations worked. Daddy used to draw houses, and people would make them. They were happy people, until you came along and Crucio!"

She aimed a green flash of light at Snape's chest, and he appeared to struggle not to recoil from the pain. She held him under the curse for a long time, then, just as it looked as though he might pass out from the pain, she stopped.

"Nasty green sparks and pain and screaming and death that never stopped. All because Luke could make things grow from nowhere and change for no reason. Luke was funny; he played the guitar and sang songs. He took Rupert for walks, and you even killed Rupert. He yelped and then there was nothing. You killed them all, and I heard every cry, every plea," her sad lilting voice suddenly changed to a snarl. "And every laugh."

She slid off the trunk she had perched herself upon and straddled Snape's lap. She grabbed one of her screwdrivers with her left hand, and began to undo the buttons of his robes with the right, until she exposed his wiry chest.

"So now," she lilted again, "I want you to know whether you will cry and plea, and whether it will drown out the screams in my head..."

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Draco collectively winced and turned away from the scene as Faith began to execute her plan, hearing only ragged breathing and pained grunting.

"Oh, I can't look!" Hermione whimpered.

"I've actually daydreamed about this happening during our Potions lessons at least eighteen times this term," Ron admitted, "but somehow it was more fun in my head."

Harry looked up briefly at the scene, then looked away again. He was trying to feel sorry for Snape, and felt like the lowest kind of scum when he found that he couldn't. His head was too full of what poor Faith must be feeling. Snape appeared to be in agony, his face twisted in an expression Harry had never seen him wear before. Faith was dabbing his chest with a cotton wool bud soaked in some substance Harry didn't recognise.

"Never used to hear them," she mumbled, as she pulled out various contraptions from her trunk, one of which Harry recognised as bearing the words 'Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes'.

"Now they're always in my head," she continued, pulling out a sweet from what Harry could now tell was a 'Skiving Snackbox', snapping off the purple cap and applying it to Snape's skin.

"That place, it put them there. Those things put them there, made me feel so cold..."

Harry saw Snape grit his teeth as the skin where the liquid from the sweet had been placed began to peel.

"Dementors? In Azkaban?" Hermione ventured, weakly. Faith stared at her.

"It was in the Daily Prophet," Hermione replied, looking away at the floor.

Faith continued to stare, but didn't look angry.

"Yeah," she replied, in an odd moment of what appeared to be clarity. "I got famous. I killed a man, so they put me in there. Let the cold things have my nice things, and gave me bad things in return. I kept telling them, I didn't remember, but I must've done it..."

"What happened?" Hermione asked gently, taking advantage of Faith's sudden calmness.

"I woke up with a wand in my hand, and poor Ryan lying on the floor. They did some spell on my wand, and the Killing Curse came out, but I don't remember ever using it. Come to think of it, I don't remember even holding that wand. I liked Ryan, why would I hurt him?" she asked Hermione, pleadingly. Hermione looked as though she was blinking back tears.

"I don't know," she said, quietly.

Faith shrugged sadly.

"Me neither," she sighed, before turning her attention back to Snape and muttering a curse that caused a large tarantula to crawl out of the end of her wand and up Snape's chest. Harry felt Ron shudder next to him.

"Bird-eating spiders are so weird," she mused, "if you agitate them..." She prodded said spider with the end of her wand, and it bristled, shooting a number of tiny spiny hairs out of its body and into Snape's skin.

"Does it itch?" she asked him. "It's supposed to."

"Of course! The Malleable Statue curse!" Hermione suddenly interjected, loudly. Faith screamed, and put her head in her hands whilst rocking to and fro in Snape's lap, which the Potions Master appeared to find more disconcerting than any of her previous actions.

"Don't. Like. Shouting!" she panted, shaking her head.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Hermione said, soothingly. Eventually, Faith stopped rocking and turned to look Hermione in the eyes.

"Well?" she demanded, suddenly, "seeing as you made all that noise, it'd better be good!"

"C...cou... couldn't someone have put the Malleable Statue curse on you and made you look as though you had used the Killing Curse on your friend?" she stammered. Faith stopped breathing for a moment, then her facial expression changed to one of deep thought, then quite suddenly to one of realisation.

"Yes... yes!" she cried, causing Harry and Ron to jump from the sudden volume of her voice. She jumped up out of Snape's lap and began to pace in small circles again.

"I was talking to Ryan, then Walden was around somewhere- he hit me with something, then I came to about ten minutes later, holding a wand... his wand! The bastard set me up!" she yelled, with a fury beyond that which Harry had seen her possess, as she threw some kind of curse at the wall, inches from Snape's head, and the tiles on the wall cracked and crumbled away with the impact. Harry couldn't understand why she hadn't realised this before- Persephone had always maintained that she was some kind of genius. He watched as she turned to face Snape again, and pointed her wand furiously at him.

"Macnair, you must have known him, he was a Death Eater. Death Eaters know each other. We know each other, so you must know each other, otherwise you'd be bumping into each other in the dark! Where is he?" she demanded. Snape tilted his head to look up at her, and attempted to speak, but the words were inaudible. Faith looked as though her patience was wearing thin.

"Damn it! Talk sense, man!" she ordered, through gritted teeth. "Otherwise, I'm going to cut your heart out really slowly, with a spoon!"

Ron looked puzzled, as well as disturbed.

"A spoon?" he mouthed to Hermione, who had cringed in shame for some reason.

"It's dull. It'll hurt more than a sword," she replied, monotonously. Faith suddenly snapped her attention to Hermione.

"You've seen it too?" she exclaimed. "Wasn't 'Men In Tights' just so much better?"

Ron stared at her, aghast.

"You're bonkers!" he exclaimed. Faith turned to face him, her wide-eyed stare more askance than offended.

"Well, yes. Azkaban, eighteen months, set up, this bastard killed my entire family. Have you not been paying attention this afternoon?" she asked, tapping the side of her head with her knuckles.

"We don't know each other," Snape managed to cough out, regaining his capacity for speech. Faith stared petulantly at him, and got up from her position sat in his lap, and moved towards the wall that Harry, Ron, Hermione and Draco were bound against.

"Fine, if you're not going to tell me," she whined, "then I'll just have to make you change your mind. Hmm..." She appeared deep in thought, scrutinising the four students as they say helpless against the wall. Her bottom lip protruded in a pout as she pointed at each of them in turn.

"Eeny, meeny, miney, mo; I'm going to choose... the small, rat-like boy," she announced proudly, before fixing her penetrating stare on Draco.

"Rat like?" he protested, but soon quietened in fear as she sat herself in his lap and smiled the smile that soiled a thousand trousers.

"Let's see what you've got in there," she mused, tapping her fingers against his temples and staring hard at him, forcing Draco to maintain eye contact with her." After a few moments, she appeared quite surprised.

"Oh, so you're a Malfoy!" she exclaimed. Draco nodded. Faith's expression instantly changed to one of disgust.

"I don't like Malfoys," she announced, her face literally an inch away from Draco's. "Nasty little creatures that like to drown little girls that see their shame."

"What..." Draco began to ask, but Faith ignored him completely, and took his hand in hers.

"And the sins of the father shall be visited upon the children..."

Harry heard a sickening snap and a rather high-pitched scream, both of which came from Draco. He saw that his index finger was at an odd angle, and Faith was holding his middle finger between her hands.

"Your daddy's a bad man..."

Another snap, and another scream, though this time Draco attempted to restrain his voice.

"So you stink of his sin..."

Another snap was clearly audible, but another voice cut through the scream.

"Enough!"

It was Snape.

"This is between you and me; it has got nothing to do with them," he spat, looking murderously at Faith, who merely smiled sweetly at him.

"This isn't just about you- how egotistical can you get? It's about lots of things. You're one of them, he's another," she explained, jerking her head towards a petrified-looking Draco. "Or rather, his daddy. His daddy killed my best friend, drowned her in a sink..."

"But she didn't stay dead!" Harry protested, quickly. Faith looked at him condescendingly.

"Well, that doesn't make it right, does it, little boy?" she remonstrated, and Harry found he couldn't come up with an answer to that question that wouldn't get Draco killed.

Faith smiled coldly at Snape.

"So, you don't want to hurt the children!" she gasped. "Pity you didn't think like that nineteen years ago. So, which one shall I do?"

She studied each of them in turn, before resting her gaze on Hermione.

"No," she decided, finally, "I like this one. She's clever."

"Maybe I'll just continue with the rat boy... But the fire-head might be a good choice... What about the speccy one?"

She continued to muse over which of them she ought to 'do', but her ramblings were cut short suddenly.

"What the hell is going on!" a commanding voice called from across the room. Harry turned around to see who the voice belonged to, and saw a dark-skinned woman with a mass of short, curly black hair that was streaked a deep red, walk towards the scene, her boots clicking against the stone floor.

Faith looked across at her, wide-eyed and petulant.

"I'm sorting out the bad man!" she protested, but the woman looked unimpressed.

"Get off the boy, Faith."

"But Alex..."

"Get off the boy!" she repeated, this time more forcefully, but without an increase in volume. Faith obeyed grudgingly, and sat, cross-legged, on the floor next to Hermione.

Alex crouched down next to the now whimpering Draco.

"Hold out your hand, boy," she said. Draco looked at her, but made no movement. She clicked her tongue and sighed impatiently.

"For God's sake, boy, stop your snivelling and hold out your hand!" she snapped.

Trembling, Draco did as he was told. The woman pulled out a wand from her pocket, muttered a few incantations, and pointed the wand at Draco's now swollen hand. A jet of pink light crept out of the end, and wrapped its way around Draco's fingers. A few snaps and pops later, and Draco's hand was no longer swollen. He flexed his fingers with ease.

"Thanks," he managed to mumble. The woman waved her hand in dismissal, then the sight of Snape pinned to the adjacent wall caught her eye. She walked over to him and pulled the sleeve of his left arm down, revealing a red tattoo that signified his one-time allegiance with Voldemort. She sighed and shook her head.

"Dear, oh, dear," she said, in harsh tones. "We've got one of them in our ranks. That isn't good... for you, naturally."

Snape lifted up his head and glared at her defiantly.

Faith clapped her hands and giggled.

"Do you know where you are?" she laughed, pointing at Snape. "You're in the jungle, baby! You're gonna die!"

"That's enough, Faith," she barked, and Faith obeyed, though still wore a broad smile.

"Okay, okay," she conceded, "but promise me you'll blow him away!" She mimed the pulling back and letting loose of a rocket launcher to demonstrate her suggestion further. Alex looked at her with an expression of indignation.

"I'm not going to blow him up," she replied, "can you imagine the mess? I happen to take some pride in our headquarters; the last thing I want is to have to spend months trying to get Death Eater out of the grouting! I have better things to do..."

She pulled a sword out of a scabbard clasped around her waist, then looked at Snape once more.

"Get up," she ordered. Snape smirked, and looked up to his shackles, then back to Alex, though he said nothing. Alex tutted.

"Don't bother getting smart with me," she hissed, pointing her wand at the shackles with her remaining free hand, and muttering a curse that made the iron chains dissolve into nothing.

"Get up," she repeated. Snape staggered to his feet, only to be met with Alex's blade pointing threateningly at his neck.

"No, you can't!" Hermione pleaded, looking horrified. Alex slowly turned to face her, the blade still pressing against Snape's neck.

"Excuse me?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. Hermione looked at her, pleadingly.

"He's... he's..." She stammered, clearly uncertain as to whether she should say the words. Alex continued to glare at her, awaiting a response.

"He's good," she finished, lamely.

Alex laughed harshly.

"There's only one good Death Eater, sweetheart, and that's a dead one," she replied, fervently. Still keeping her sword pressed against Snape, she began to feel in his robe pockets, until she pulled out a wand, and stuffed it in her belt pouch, which Harry noticed with curiosity, held two wands already. What did she need with two wands?

"Right," she spat, "now that's out of the..."

"Wait, wait, Alex, just hold on!" a voice called frantically, which Harry instantly recognised as Persephone's. Alex continued to frisk Snape's pockets, though she turned to look in the direction of the noise.

"Perce?" she called, "what's the matter?"

Suddenly, she stopped dead, and fixed her eyes upon Snape. This time, though, it was not in anger.

"You?" she questioned, quietly, having pulled a second wand from Snape's person. Snape looked irritated, which Harry was beginning to think was his default expression.

"What do you mean 'me'? What are you on about?" he snapped. Then he looked at the woman, who had now dropped her sword and let it clang onto the floor, as though he had seen her before, and was not expecting to see her again.

"Ridley?" he asked, in a slightly softer tone of voice, "Alexandra Ridley?"

Alex nodded.

"You still carry two wands," she replied. He smiled kindly, which to Harry simply didn't fit well with the rest of his face.

"You can never be too prepared," he said, quietly. He nodded towards the wands in Alex's own belt.

"I see you now understand the logic," he added. Alex merely nodded. The briefest of smiles flashed across Snape's features.

"Mahogany, nine inches, good for..."

"Excellent for transfiguration." Alex finished Snape's sentence for him. "You remembered?"

"I remember a lot about that day," he replied, simply.

"What's going on?" Draco demanded. Nobody paid him any attention.

"Why does Snape know her?" Ron asked Harry.

"Why does she know Snape?" he asked in reply.

"That's what I'd like to know," an extremely infuriated Faith added. Hermione said nothing, and appeared to be deep in thought as she stared at the scene in curiosity.

Persephone ran into the room as fast as she could. Well, as fast as one can when struggling to restrain a pink-haired Auror, who was extremely reluctant to comply.

"I came as fast as I could," she panted, "there's a lot to explain, Alex..." She trailed off as she saw Alex and Snape stood in front of each other.

"Oh yes, that," she said, slightly embarrassed. "I was going to mention that, but I guess there's no need."

Alex nodded.

"No, there isn't. Except to add further proof?"

"It was further proof," Persephone replied. She glanced behind her, and Harry saw that Sam was also dragging a subdued Lupin in his firm grasp. Faith looked thrilled.

"Puppies!" she squealed, jumping up and down in her seat.

"We'd have got here sooner," Sam admitted.

"Yeah, if Mr. and Mrs. Swish-and-flick hadn't got so wand happy!" Persephone shouted, glaring at Tonks and Lupin.

"If you hadn't gone and kidnapped a bunch of schoolchildren, we wouldn't have needed to!" Lupin spat, before Persephone looked across at Snape.

"You okay, Dad?" she asked. Snape nodded, though the rest of the congregation collectively gasped in shock, with the exception of Harry, Ron and Hermione.

Tonks and Lupin's jaws had slackened, and they were staring at Persephone, then Snape, then back to Persephone again.

"How?" Lupin asked, hoarsely. Persephone rolled her eyes.

"Honestly, does nobody bother to teach sex education at Hogwarts?" she asked, then looked at Snape again.

"Silly question," she replied, mostly to herself, before loosening her grip on Tonks. Sam did the same with Lupin, and released Harry, Ron, Hermione and Draco from their bonds, although none of them moved to get up in response.

"How do you two know each other?" Hermione asked, looking at Alex as she did so.

"What's it to you?" she snapped back.

"My parents knew your parents, before..." Hermione trailed off.

"Before they were killed by Death Eaters. If you're going to allude to it, just come out and say it, girl," Alex replied, brusquely. Then her expression changed to one of curiosity.

"Who were your parents, then?" she asked.

"Tom and Kate Granger," she replied. Alex smiled, suddenly.

"Really? Wow- they used to baby-sit me!" she laughed. Hermione smiled back.

"They were really worried about you," she replied. Alex's expression became melancholic.

"I couldn't go back," she explained, "I couldn't let them know- it would have meant getting them killed too. It all happened 'cause of what I am, what I'm guessing you are, too."

"A witch?" Hermione asked. Alex smiled.

"A Muggle-born witch," she reiterated, before continuing. "When the Death Eaters killed my parents, they kidnapped me- God only knows what for. They left me in the hands of one of their number, who I, feeling reckless, pestered with psychobabble and irritating questions. For some reason, he helped me escape." She looked up at Snape. "I owe him a great debt. He saved my life."

Snape looked back at her.

"Consider it paid. You saved mine," he replied. Alex looked confused.

"How?" she asked. Snape glanced at the floor for a moment, before returning her gaze.

"Let's just say you forced me to reconsider my options, and to change my path," he replied, carefully.

Alex's expression softened further.

"You mean you left? How? How did you leave and not die?" she asked, in blatant curiosity. Persephone smiled.

"I reckon it runs in the family, Alex," she replied. Alex looked at her oddly.

"What, coming back from the Killing Curse?" she asked.

"I was thinking more along the lines of the espionage," Persephone replied, quietly.

Hermione's eyes lit up as though somebody had just switched on a light bulb in her head.

"So, you were kidnapped in 1979, escaped the Death Eater's with Sn... Professor Snape's help, joined the Brethren..."

"As a foot-soldier." Alex grinned. "They looked after me, and helped me go back to Beaubaxtons whilst under protection. They were grateful for the information I could give them of where I was held during my capture, and equally amenable to my ideas. I worked part-time until I finished my N.E.W.T.s, then joined as a fully paid up member."

"Much like I did," Persephone added, "I've worked here since I was sixteen, as well."

Alex smiled at her.

"I became leader a few years later. I, like Persephone, believed we were due for an overhaul in our proceedings," she replied.

"So, you were the reason the Brethren's methods lessened in severity during the early eighties?" Hermione asked. Alex shrugged.

"Sort of. Having seen a different side to the Death Eaters than most in my situation did, I was inclined to punish and protect for the good of the many, rather than avenge for the good of the few," she explained.

Tonks and Lupin still looked sceptical.

"As heart-warming as this is," Tonks pointed out, having brushed herself down, "it doesn't explain why we caught one of your number kidnapping a bunch of schoolchildren and their teacher and held them within your headquarters! We can track Floo journeys to some extent, you know."

Lupin nodded, then pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, Severus, but I'm still having difficulty grasping the fact that you have a daughter," he said, quietly. Snape rolled his eyes.

"Well, get used to it, Lupin!" he snapped, then winced as his jaw clicked audibly.

Alex clicked her fingers.

"You two," she ordered, pointing at Ron and Draco. "Take your professor here up the stairs and to the left- there's a medical facility that'll put him right, and perhaps you ought to stop there too- you've both got some nasty bruises."

Ron and Draco looked at each other.

"Just go, boys," Alex replied, in a voice Harry personally wouldn't have liked to disobey. Judging by the way Ron and Draco got up and rushed to Snape's aid, he got the impression they felt the same. Alex tapped Ron on the shoulder and whispered something in his ear, at which he nodded.

Harry looked to his left, and saw that Faith had her hands over her ears, and was muttering to herself, clearly not pleased by the revelations that had just come to light.

"What has all this got to do with Faith? And Sirius' letter?" Harry demanded. Alex glared at him, but Persephone put a hand on her shoulder.

"This is where I've got some explaining to do," she replied, grimly.

Chapter Twenty-Six: The Woman in the Pensieve

"Well?" Harry asked. Persephone sighed.

"I went back to my office before I found out about Faith's excursion to Hogwarts," she replied, "and I saw you'd found my little stash of documents. Honestly, Harry," she scolded, "if you're going to go snooping, you should at least put things back where you found them, so the person being snooped on doesn't find out!"

Harry glared back at her.

"Says you!" he snapped. "All this time you've been snooping on me!"

"Now, that isn't fair, I haven't..."

"I thought I could trust you!" Harry shouted back, unleashing the fury he had felt ever since they had first entered the headquarters' of the Brethren.

Persephone was about to respond, but Alex grabbed her arm.

"Hold up, kiddo," she said, pulling out her wand. "We've got company."

Persephone looked towards the entrance to Faith's workshop. Sam sniffed the air once more.

"It's okay," he replied, "it's Augustine."

Harry's heart leapt as he saw that Augustine was accompanied by two much taller men. Dumbledore and Kingsley Shacklebolt were also present.

"I presumed you wouldn't mind if Albus here brought a friend?" Augustine said, mildly. Alex rolled her eyes.

"Sure, why not? The more the effing merrier, I say," she drawled, sarcastically.

"Now, now, Alex," Persephone teased, "give Albus some sympathy. He's known for at least six months my real reasons for working at Hogwarts, and he's let me get on with it." She glanced up at Dumbledore, who gave her a smile.

"How very perceptive of you, Persephone," he replied, beaming. "I must admit, I expected little else from the daughter of one who's pulled such a stunt for the last eighteen years."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Persephone replied, coolly.

Tonks looked at Dumbledore in astonishment.

"You mean, you've known these people have been amongst your number at Hogwarts?" she gasped. Dumbledore nodded.

"Yes, I have," he replied.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Shacklebolt asked, calmly. Dumbledore raised his hand.

"All in good time," he replied, simply.

Harry, however, decided he had just about had enough.

"How could you? You're supposed to be my sister!" he spat out, before he could stop himself. The congregation stared at him, then at Persephone, then back to him, and finally at the doorway where Snape had made his exit not moments ago.

"Your sister?" Lupin exclaimed, as though he also couldn't take much more.

Persephone rolled her eyes.

"Right," she announced, "for those of you who have just joined us, I'll make things simple, okay? Harry and I have the same mother, but different fathers- drunken night at some crappy hotel, not very romantic, I'll spare you the details. I went to live with my aunt and uncle, who have looked after me pretty much since I was born. My mother and father visited sometimes, things were all hunky-dory, until my old man decided to go and join Voldemort's services. Didn't go down too well, as I'm sure you can imagine. Anyway, he left them- the reasons for which I'm sure Alex will furnish you with if you ask her nicely- and he and Albus over here decided to put him back into Voldemort's circle as a spy. Trouble was, I existed, and as such was a pretty good bargaining chip against him if Voldemort ever found out. So, I was hidden under a Fidelius Charm- my entire existence wiped out of the memories of anyone who had ever met me. Lily Potter, my mother, though nobody knew, was my Secret Keeper. This worked great, until Voldemort killed all the Potters, excluding young Harry here..."

"And you," Tonks added. Persephone shook her head.

"No, not excluding me. This is where the tale gets interesting. I died, my Secret Keeper died, and as such, the Fidelius Charm was broken, and everyone knew I existed, and also knew I was dead. About a month later, I somehow came back into the land of the living- if you want more details on that, ask Harry here, for he's been a walking, taking example of hypocrisy by being so furious over being spied on himself, yet has been snooping on my life ever since I arrived at Hogwarts." She glared at Harry at this point, who found he couldn't really disagree with her, but continued to glare back at her anyway.

"So," she continued, "I went to live with my aunt, who kept all this from me for my protection. I didn't remember a thing- I suppose when your Secret Keeper dies, then you die, then you come back to life, it does badly affect the workings of a Fidelius Charm. Went to Durmstrang, was taken out by my aunt for protection when I found out about a Death Eater on campus; went to Beaubaxtons, where I found out pretty much the same thing, but was drowned for my troubles, was revived by Old Ridley here; trotted off to work for the Brethren in their Information sector; came to Hogwarts last September and you know the rest. Everyone clear? Good, now can I explain the rest of the story so that my brother does at least understand why we've all apparently conspired against him?" she snapped. Everyone in the room nodded silently, except for Dumbledore, who chuckled.

"Well, well, Lily was your mother? I must say, both she and Severus kept that one quiet," he said, looking off into the distance.

"She never told us... bloody hell!" Lupin exclaimed, looking quite pale.

Persephone laughed.

"If that was bad enough for you, Mr. Lupin, I suggest you sit down for my encore," she advised.

Harry looked Persephone straight in the eye.

"Go on, then," he said. "I'm all ears."

"Right. Well, the story does actually start with Faith. She was captured by the Ministry and thrown into Azkaban without trial for the murder of Ryan Mitchell, which we all knew here to be erroneous- the Ministry have never felt the need for a system of justice when it comes to our members, and Macnair did everything in his power to ensure that Faith was suspected of being amongst our number. We tried going through the correct channels, setting up hearings and appeal cases, but all for nought. It appeared the Ministry didn't really want to hear us out. So I decided the time had come for action. I'd seen what that place did to people, and the last thing I wanted was to leave Faith languishing in there. I knew her too well, you see. I knew it would be the death of her."

Harry looked across at Faith, who was now sat with her finger in her ears, humming loudly. He tried to compare her with that pretty, bright young girl who had been carrying that Quidditch Cup with Persephone, and shuddered at the accuracy of Persephone's prediction.

"So," she continued, "I wanted to get her out, as soon as possible."

She began to pace across the floor a little.

"So, Harry, you remember I told you that when you want to find something out, your best bet is to go to the one person you know will have the answers?"

"Yeah," Harry replied, curiosity getting the better of him. Persephone smiled grimly.

"Well, I did just that. I went to find the only person I'd ever known to break out of Azkaban."

Harry and Hermione looked at each other in horror.

"Sirius Black?" Hermione asked. Persephone nodded.

"Exactly. I tell you," she replied, smiling with the memory, "the old bastard was a difficult man to track down."

Here, she broke off from her speech and lifted a large gold bowl from the shelf near her head, placed it on the floor and tapped her right finger to her temple, drawing out a silvery coil and dropping it into the bowl. She muttered some sort of charm, and the bowl buckled and formed itself into what could only be described as a large mirror.

"I think it'll be easier if I just show you what happened," she said, as she lifted her left hand and placed it next to the mirror.

"Sinistra; Exhibeo!" she commanded, and the mirror began to crackle, and an image filled the reflective surface. It was one of a night sky in a foreign city.

"This is New Orleans, by the way- July of 1995," Persephone added, by way of an explanation. Harry recalled that this must have been after the Tri-Wizard Tournament.

"What was he doing in New Orleans?" Hermione asked.

"Ah, that was my doing. I asked him to alert the old members of the Order... Well, one of them had gone on holiday, and time really was of the essence," Dumbledore replied.

The scene in the Pensieve was lively, despite the darkness. Neon lights shone upon the busy streets, and people of all ages were gathering, dancing, singing to various jazz tunes and the like. A man was stood against the darkness, his features obscured by shadow, though Harry could vaguely recognise the strong features and dark hair that the man brushed his fingers through to keep it settling attractively against his ears. It was his godfather, no doubt about it, and he appeared to be unnerved by something. He kept checking over his shoulder as he made his way through the shadows.

"Hey, sweetheart," a voice drawled- it sounded like an American woman. Sirius turned defensively in the direction of the speaker.

"What do you want?" he snarled, gruffly. The woman smiled. She was about the same height as Sirius, with dark hair that was swept up into a chignon and she was dressed in an elegant red dress that had a high-necked front and fell into folds of red fabric around her knees. She looked vaguely familiar to Harry.

"What can I say," she leered, "I'm well travelled. Have we met before?" she asked, sipping from a cocktail glass.

"Doubt it," Sirius sneered, "I'd remember you. Now clear off."

The woman ignored him.

"Jeez, you're really not in the party mood, are you? Why come to the Jazz Quarter if you ain't in the mood for a party?" she giggled. Sirius pushed past her and walked down the street, but she followed him, her high-heels clicking on the ground.

"Wait a second, I'll remember you in a minute..." She frowned in thought, then suddenly clicked her fingers.

"Oh, that's it, you're Sirius Black, aren't you?"

Sirius turned around sharply upon hearing his name, and grabbed the woman's wrist sharply, at which she laughed.

"Ah yes, Sirius Black, famed convict- the only wizard, I believe, who has escaped Azkaban, am I right?"

"Then you'll know to keep away from me," he threatened, with venom in his voice. The woman merely smiled, and continued to follow.

"What do you want?" he snarled. The woman gave him a curious lop-sided grin.

"What can I say, I'm a convict groupie," she replied, sarcastically, but with a coquettish smile.

Sirius clearly wasn't amused.

"Just get out of here, you stupid woman. Nobody has heard of my crimes here, you'd be dead before anyone cottoned on."

The woman smiled, but this time more frostily, and Harry suddenly realised where he had seen her before. It was his sister.

"Want to put money on that, Black?" she replied, coldly, having dropped her previous affected accent entirely. Sirius looked stunned, but not so stunned as he did once the woman grabbed his arm and twisted him against the floor, holding him fast.

"Get off me," he snarled. Persephone laughed.

"Appearances can be deceptive, huh, Black," she said, quietly, but with forcefulness in her voice.

"What do you want?" he asked, this time less threateningly. Persephone smiled and let him go, at which he fell onto the pavement.

"Now you're talking," she said, "come this way." She beckoned towards a dimly lit bar, and Sirius, having pulled himself up into a standing position, duly followed.

The next scene involved the two of them sitting in a poorly lit corner of the bar, a drink in hand, and Sirius looking grim.

"Information," Persephone said, suddenly. "I'm looking for information."

"What kind could I possibly help you with?" he snarled. "I've been in Azkaban for twelve years."

"The kind that helped you escape from Azkaban."

Sirius raised his eyebrows.

"You don't look like you need to break out of anywhere," he replied. Persephone took a sip of her drink and shook her head.

"Don't want to break out; I want to break in," she replied, quickly. Sirius laughed harshly.

"What the hell would you want to go to that place for?" He leaned in towards her. "Believe me, it's not the place for a young lady."

"I know," she retorted, "which is why I want to break a young lady out of there."

Sirius's curiosity appeared to be piqued by this remark.

"Interesting. Enlighten me," he asked. Persephone leaned in towards him.

"I'm sure you're aware, Mr. Black, of the current situation," she began, looking deep into his eyes, and Harry noticed Sirius did not look away. "Voldemort's back. Now, I don't care what the Ministry have got to say about this- I'm sure you more than anyone are aware of their various... miscalculations. Somehow, certain inmates of Azkaban have been seen to escape- certain inmates who share one thing in common, and that would be a particularly ugly skull tattoo, know what I'm saying?"

Sirius looked blankly at her. She rolled her eyes.

"Death Eaters?" she prompted, at which he nodded slowly.

"Well," Persephone continued, "let's just say I've always been one for equal opportunities. If one group's getting out, I say let's free one more. So." She slammed her glass down on the table ferociously. "Please, now I've enlightened you, I'd appreciate it if you did me the same courtesy."

Sirius sighed.

"Well, I slipped through the bars, in my animagus form," he replied, simply.

"What form do you take?" she asked.

"Dog. I was pretty thin back then, mind."

Persephone pinched his forearm.

"You're pretty thin, now, if you don't mind my mentioning." She looked around and made eye contact with a waiter, who duly walked over to their table and allowed her to order some food. Once he had walked off, she turned her attention back to Sirius.

"I can't bear to see a malnourished man, so please eat up when it arrives," she ordered.

"Thanks," Sirius replied, clearly a little astonished.

"Dog animagus, eh?" Persephone mused. Sirius merely nodded.

"Well," Persephone continued, "I can get in and out then, no probs. The girl has no such capabilities- what say you on that front?"

Sirius frowned, and his forehead creased with the action.

"Not sure- if she's your size, I'd say no chance," he replied. Persephone raised one eyebrow at him. Sirius shrugged.

"Come on, you're a tall drink of water, no mistaking," he replied, unapologetically. Persephone merely smiled back.

"She's about five foot two, maybe seven and a half stone," she explained.

"When was she put in?"

"December before last," she replied, swiftly. Sirius frowned once more.

"So, you can take a stone or two off her weight already- I'd guess at around six. You say you'll be alright?"

"I've got my own abilities."

"What form, if it's not too forward a question?"

"It is, and let's just say I fly," Persephone shot back, smoothly. Sirius raised his palms in mild rebuke.

"You are secretive, aren't you?" he asked, with an amused smile.

"I have my reasons."

"Fair enough. Your friend might have difficulties with the bars. If you could somehow get them removed, or stretched, but they're wrought iron..."

"Not a problem."

"And they're high up," Sirius added. Persephone's expression didn't change.

"Again, not a problem."

"You have a lot of friends that fly?"

"I have a lot of friends," she replied, silkily, in a manner that clearly suggested the matter was closed.

The waiter came round and placed a plate of chicken wings on the table and another round of drinks, for which Persephone tipped him heavily. He smiled gratefully, and walked off. She gestured for Sirius to eat, and he did so appreciatively.

"So," he said between mouthfuls, "you can fly up to the bars, break them open, sneak in as your animagus form, carry her out through the bars from whence you came, and skidaddle off to freedom with the wind in your hair?"

"That's about the plan," she replied, sipping on her new drink, but not taking her eyes off him.

Sirius cocked an eyebrow at her.

"You know," he said, "you remind me of someone."

Persephone tilted her head back and laughed.

"Please, Mr. Black, if it's the one about your 'Old Flame', I've heard it before from more handsome and clever men than you- and I was unimpressed then," she retorted, with a cool smile.

Sirius returned her cold smile.

"Actually, I was thinking more of an old childhood enemy," he replied, "one whom I still dislike to this day, and he me."

"How droll. I remind you of a man whom you hate. That's fine, Mr. Black, you don't have to like me, you just need to tell me what I want to know."

"And you do it again! Anyone would think you were related," he laughed. Persephone shrugged.

"In this crazy world, who knows? Anyway," she commanded, "anything else I need to know before I embark on my mission to protect and survive?"

Sirius shrugged.

"Not really- watch out for the Dementors, which I'd imagine you'd already thought about. They'll notice your friend's disappearance pretty quickly, but not quickly enough. You can make it to Gloucester before they act if you're quick. Just make sure you know which route you're taking."

Persephone nodded. Sirius pointed to the half-empty plate of chicken wings.

"I'd grab some yourself, you look like you need fattening up," he replied, smoothly. Persephone snorted at him.

"Please, does my head look too big for my body? Besides, I've already eaten," she replied.

"Fair enough. Oh, one more thing," Sirius announced.

Persephone looked up at him.

"Yes?"

"The Dementors. They will sense you the moment you enter that place, though if you're in your animagus form, they'll probably pay little attention. The other part of your rescue party better be on their guard, though."

Persephone waved her hand in dismissal of the thought.

"No problem," she replied. "The Dementors don't care for the walking dead much, do they?"

Sirius raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"No, they can't stand them. Soulless and tainted with death- not much good for feeding off, you see. Why?"

Persephone smiled enigmatically.

"Well, my compadre will be alright then. So might I, come to think of it," she replied.

"Really? Care to share..."

Sirius caught a glimpse of Persephone's steely glare.

"Or maybe not," he finished, with a shrug of his shoulders. Persephone smiled.

"Good man," she said, before standing up.

"Well," she announced, "I've taken up far too much of your valuable time already, Mr. Black."

She extended her hand, and Sirius shook it respectfully.

"Good luck," he offered. Persephone smiled back at him.

"I'll say thank you now, and assure you that if I succeed, I'll be in your debt."

Sirius stood up himself, and Harry saw once again that, with Persephone in her red high heels, the two appeared the same height.

"Actually," he replied, "I may well need you to pay that debt as soon as possible."

Persephone's ears almost visibly pricked up.

"Oh, do tell," she coaxed. Sirius looked pensive for a moment.

"What with things as they are in the Ministry, as I'm sure you're all too aware, I've got to keep a low profile. However," he continued, "I want to, I need to clear my name. I have responsibilities to think of..." He looked her straight in the eye. "I am innocent," he almost pleaded, "I didn't kill those people..."

Persephone put a hand on his shoulder.

"I believe you," she replied, "and if I get my friend out, on my word, I will move Heaven and Earth to see you are repaid."

Sirius looked incredulous for a moment.

"How can you be so sure?" he asked. Persephone offered him another of her lop-sided smiles.

"Let's just say I have a pretty good idea of when I'm being lied to, Mr. Black."

She turned to leave, and Sirius' expression changed from confusion, to horror.

"What? Wait!" he yelled, running after her. He managed to catch up with her fairly swiftly, at which she turned to face him and smiled coolly once more.

"Dear me, Mr. Black," she said, smoothly, "you really ought to exercise a little more caution. You don't know who's ab..."

Sirius had already thrown her against a wall and was staring frantically at her, pinning her by her neck to the wall.

"You're a Legilmens," he spat, "what did you see?"

Considering she was currently being threatened by an escapee from Azkaban, Persephone looked remarkably calm.

"That's my business and mine alone," she retorted. Sirius pushed her against the wall of the dark alley once again, at which Persephone sniggered.

"Oh please, Mr. Black," she replied, "we could have another fight, or even a duel if you'd prefer. But what with the Ministry no doubt crawling all over you like flies on rotting meat the second you cast a spell and alert them to your presence, I'd think it unwise, wouldn't you?"

Sirius appeared to rethink this, and slowly let her go. Persephone merely straightened her dress and looked him in the eyes, at which he looked carefully away. She raised her hands.

"Hey, no tricks here, Mr. Black," she replied, but suddenly stopped still.

"What is it?" Sirius asked, but was silenced by Persephone, who took off her heels and crept silently along the alleyway.

Sirius stood and watched as she crept up behind a tallish man with short white hair, before expertly cursing him into silence and dragging him into the alley with her. She threw him to his knees and inspected her quarry.

"Well, well, well," she drawled. "Mr. Karkaroff, welcome back, we've missed you!"

Karkaroff coughed up a little blood and spat it out onto the floor, before looking up at her.

"Beauchamp!" he hissed. Persephone smiled.

"I bet you thought you'd never see me again!" she exclaimed. "Oh, what a simply darling reunion!"

She looked across at Sirius.

"He was my Headmaster during my school days," she offered, by way of explanation. "Nasty, weak, little rodenty man, I recall. Looks like little has changed."

She dragged him up to a standing position, and pulled the sleeve of his left arm up, exposing an ugly, almost black, tattoo that was unmistakeably a Dark Mark.

"Now then," Persephone mused, "why aren't you with your old Master for reunion cocktails, hmm?"

Karkaroff looked mutinously at her, until she struck the side of his knee with a hefty looking heel from her shoe, at which he keeled over onto the floor.

"He's back," he managed to say, before collapsing onto the cobblestone pavement. Persephone rolled her eyes.

"No stamina, I tell you," she tutted to a bemused Sirius.

"Need a hand, Beau?" a voice called, as a tall, reddish-blonde man sauntered down the alleyway. Persephone grabbed the now unconscious Karkaroff, and tossed him unceremoniously to the man.

"Do something with this, will you, Sam?" she requested. "Find out everything you can, but be careful- he's a coward, and we all know how reliable they are. I'll be with you shortly."

Sam offered her a lax salute, before hoisting Karkaroff onto his shoulders and carrying him off.

Sirius looked at her suspiciously.

"What are you?" he asked, staring at her as though she were a completely unknown entity. Persephone smiled and shrugged.

"Perhaps you already know," she replied, before turning away from Sirius and walking down the street.

"What I said about that debt is true," she shouted back to him, "just name your time and place, and I'll do all that I can, and more."

The mirror suddenly reverted back to its reflective state, and Harry caught Persephone say something to Alex.

"Why did I agree to that?" she asked, in mock irritation.

"Because you knew it would be unlikely to fall under your job heading?" Alex said, with a hoarse laugh. Persephone nudged her hard in the ribs.

"So, you and my godfather struck a deal, great," Harry said, bitterly. "What has that got to do with spying on me?"

"You have got a Messiah complex, haven't you, kid?" Alex spat. "This isn't all about you!"

"Yes it is!" Harry shouted back. "It's got everything to do with me, because apparently, I'm the only one who can stop Voldemort! Didn't your spying reveal the prophecy?" he snapped. Shacklebolt looked alarmed.

"Harry! What in Merlin's name do you..." He trailed off as Dumbledore placed a hand on his shoulder.

Alex ignored him, and instead surveyed Harry coolly.

"Of course it did, and how exactly do you think you'll fulfil it? Just waltz up to him and ask him to stop killing people in a bid to achieve global domination? Who exactly do you think will be setting the wheels in motion, working out what it is you have to do, ensuring your survival so that you can do whatever it is you need to do, stopping the Death Eaters from killing all and sundry, getting various factions onto our side and away from Voldemort's and generally fighting him and his forces at every turn?" Her voice got steadily angrier at every word.

"Leave him alone," Tonks piped up, defensively. Alex turned to face her.

"I'll do what I want; it's my effing headquarters you lot have all barged into!"

"So, you broke Faith out, you owe Sirius the receipt of a posthumous pardon, but why does Dumbledore know all this?" Hermione asked, politely.

"Yeah!" Harry agreed, albeit more aggressively.

Persephone tutted, and Harry was instantly reminded of Hermione nagging him to do his homework.

"Kids today," she remonstrated, "simply don't pay attention! Think about it, Harry, Hermione, he figured out I'm a Leglimens, why would he be so worried?"

Harry had to admit he didn't have a clue, but something in Hermione's expression suggested she did.

"You and Sirius spent a lot of time staring at each other; you could have easily read his mind, which I imagine you did, and seen the work of the Order, or at least the beginning of their plans, which would be enough to worry Sirius. You'd have passed that information onto the Brethren; Sirius would have passed on his suspicion that you knew to Dumbledore."

Alex clapped her hands.

"Well, this one's got a spark in her, at any rate," she replied. Persephone merely nodded.

"Got it in one, Hermione. In fact, I've a sneaking suspicion Mr. Black suspected I worked for the Brethren, and passed that on too; am I right, Albus?"

Dumbledore nodded.

"That is true. I hired you, partly on your evident skill, partly so I could keep an eye on you and see exactly what you were all up to."

Alex smiled.

"A man after my own heart; I admire guile and forethought, Professor," she replied. Dumbledore smiled graciously.

"It didn't take long to realise that Persephone was working for an organization very much on our side. She even shared the information she found about Severus having worked on our side with Miss Ridley here, whom of course I knew plenty about from Severus back in the December of 1979, as I'm sure you've already heard. Your organization has stopped a good many Death Eater attacks this past year. I must say even we had difficulty keeping up, and we've got the resources of the Ministry," he replied, appreciatively.

"Well, we have our own resources, which does make things run a little more speedily," Alex conceded. Dumbledore smiled.

"That I can well believe," he replied, respectfully.

Harry was about to awkwardly make amends with his half-sister, and apologise for being so angry at her for doing a job even Dumbledore thought necessary, when something happened to wipe the thought completely from his mind.

Faith had stood up, and held Hermione at knifepoint; a large crystal on a string clutched in her other hand.

"I've heard enough!" she screamed, and the whole congregation jumped from the sudden noise.

"Faith, put her down," Persephone calmly ordered.

"Shut up, you traitor!" Faith shrieked back. "You're filthy, you've been tainted- you share his blood!"

Persephone looked as though she had been delivered a physical blow.

"Faith, calm down, we can talk about this," Alex reasoned.

"No more talking! Just about bloody through talking!" Faith raged, dragging Hermione closer to the black Maltese cross on the floor of the workshop.

"Just stay where you are," she said, spinning the hands of the odd clock face Harry had noticed when he first entered the room. "Just stay there, and nobody will get hurt."

"Faith, no!" Persephone commanded. Faith laughed harshly, and took out her wand, pointing it at the cross.

"Commuto tempus!" she commanded, and a white light jetted out of her wand, hitting the Maltese cross. Slowly, the four iron staffs began to glow an eerie red, the crystal balls atop them began to glow blue, then green, then yellow, until they all turned black, and an almighty force blew through the room, causing Harry's hair to stand on end as though he had just put his hands on a working Van de Graff generator. One look at Tonks' almost spherical pink hair told him he was not alone.

Suddenly, a huge bolt of lightening stuck the Maltese cross, and both Faith and Hermione vanished with a loud 'crack'.

"What happened?" Tonks asked faintly.

"Where did they go?" Harry demanded. Alex looked across at Persephone, who was examining the machine with a frown etched onto her forehead.

"Hogwarts," Persephone replied.

"Why would she take her back there?" Dumbledore asked, stroking his beard.

"Hogwarts in 1977," Persephone added, without missing a beat.

Kingsley Shacklebolt's eyes widened in astonishment.

"That's impossible, it simply can't be done!" he exclaimed. Persephone laughed darkly.

"As far as Faith is concerned, 'can't' is a four letter word," she replied, swiftly.

"A time-machine that can take you back years?" Dumbledore appeared intrigued. "How on Earth did she manage it?"

"She's a genius, and technically, it's a time-and-place-machine," Alex explained, pointing at the map on the floor, which now had a tiny green light flashing on it in the place where Hogwarts should be.

Harry looked across at the three faces of the clock, and saw that one hand pointed to the number 77 on the largest circle, the letter J on the middle circle, and the number 9 on the smallest, and innermost circle.

"9th June 1977?" Harry asked.

"On a Thursday," Persephone replied, in the affirmative. Harry looked at her.

"How did you know that?" he asked. Persephone shrugged.

"I'm good at arithmetic," she replied, simply.

"Why would she want to go back in time, and take Hermione with her?" Lupin asked, looking concerned. Alex shrugged.

"She wants to change time, I'd wager. Most likely remove Severus from the present... but Perce, what about you? You don't think she's trying to get rid of you, too?" she asked, suddenly sounding more concerned. Persephone shrugged.

"If she is, she's gone back two years too late. I was approaching my second birthday around then."

Lupin's brows furrowed at this remark.

"Hang on, Persephone," he laughed, shaking his head. "That doesn't make any sense. Severus was seventeen then, and you were two? He would have to have been fifteen when he, you know..." Lupin looked across at Harry and coloured up a little as he spoke. "He made you, and I think you'll agree that..."

"Fourteen," Persephone replied, simply. "He was fourteen. Lily was fifteen, when they conceived."

Lupin's mouth opened, but no audible sound emitted from him. Eventually, he shook his head in dismay and managed a, "I didn't think you could get people pregnant at fourteen."

Persephone looked down at herself.

"And yet, here I am," she retorted.

Alex began to pace the floor in frustration.

"What do we do?" she asked.

"Well, stopping her might be a good idea," Tonks replied, with sarcasm in her voice. Alex gave her a condescending look.

"Well, yes, but how exactly do we go about doing that without changing the past, and therefore as a consequence; the present?" she retorted. Tonks' expression darkened somewhat at this remark.

"We'd better think of something!" she snapped back.

"Do you think she'll go through with it?" Dumbledore asked, serenely. Persephone smiled grimly.

"It's all she's ever desired to do." She sighed, and dragged a hand through her hair. "She's been working on that thing for years- she just wants her family back."

"Is that so bad?" Harry asked. "I know killing Snape is bad." He fought to make it sound convincing. "But what about if he changed? Somehow didn't become a Death Eater? If anyone could do that, it'd be Hermione. She's really into this whole 'equal rights' thing..."

Persephone shook her head.

"The Scott family, the Bancrofts, the Joneses, the McKenzies..."

Harry's eyes widened.

"He killed all those people as a Death Eater?"

"No- he saved them all as a spy," Dumbledore replied. Alex looked up at him.

"If he doesn't take the Mark, or if he's killed before time, plenty more will suffer. Faith is playing with far more than her own wishes here, she's messing about with the lives of many more Muggles, and with the Brethren itself. Trust me." Her voice sounded oddly sharp to Harry at this point. "If it hadn't been for Severus, I'd have been killed, or worse. Either way, we wouldn't be working the way we are now- we'd be choking in our own hatred. Everyone who's a part of this has lost something, or someone, to Voldemort's forces. We survive by paying forwards, not paying back- vengeance is something that hinders!"

Everyone in the room looked at a loss, until Persephone snapped her fingers in what appeared to be triumph.

"Got it!" she announced. Sam cocked his head at her.

"Well, don't give it to me," he joked. Persephone shot him a mock scowl.

"Very funny, Sam. I've got an idea."

"Do share," Alex commanded.

"Right, I reckon there's a way we can get out of this mess. Harry?"

Harry looked up at Persephone.

"Yeah?"

"How are Hermione's skills of deception?" she asked. Harry fought to suppress a snigger, and failed.

"She can hold her own," he replied, thinking about Rita Skeeter and Dolores Umbridge, in that order. Persephone offered a sly smile.

"Perfect," she replied.

"What do you need?" Alex asked, impatiently.

"My old Durmstrang robes, Sam and Augustine, and a willing go-between that wasn't at, or known to, Hogwarts in 1977."

Dumbledore looked at Persephone with a mixture of interest and approval.

"I see where you're going with this," he replied.

"I don't," Shacklebolt added sharply. "What are you planning?"

"Damage limitation," she replied, evasively.

"Enlighten me?" he probed, with a little more force.

"Well, I'm guessing that if Faith has gone to finish off a seventeen year old Severus, we'll need someone to keep him out of Faith's way that won't attract too much attention. A small army of Brethrenites might not do that, but a young girl- say, a Durmstrang student whose family are looking to keep her away from the Dark Arts and Voldemort's clutches on a visit to Hogwarts- might be just the ticket, leaving myself, Sam and Augustine free to find Faith and drag her kicking and screaming into 1997."

"What can we do? We hardly want to leave Hermione alone in that situation," Lupin queried. Persephone smiled.

"You want to come back to 1977 and run the risk of meeting your past self? I'd rather you didn't."

Lupin looked disdainfully at her.

"I'm fully aware of that fact, thank you, but what about Tonks?" he countered. Persephone shook her head.

"I know she's a Metamorphagus, but I really need someone very stealthy to be a go-between. They have to be unnoticeable."

Tonks looked outraged.

"Are you saying I'm not stealthy?" she demanded. Alex grinned.

"I think she's saying you tripped our intruder sensors by kicking the welcome mat across the floor of the entrance, that good enough for you?"

Tonks glared at her, but appeared to have admitted defeat.

Harry looked at the congregation, who were currently coming to no decision, and sighed in irritation.

"I'll go," he announced. Persephone laughed.

"No way, little H," she replied. Harry glared at her.

"Hermione's my friend!" he retorted.

"And you look like a carbon copy of your old man, that won't arouse suspicion now, will it?" she replied, sarcastically.

"I can wear my Invisibility Cloak," he retorted, and before Persephone could argue, added, "and I know Hogwarts almost inside-out, and Hermione's used to conversing with me under it, and ..."

"All right, all right, you've made your point!" Persephone sighed, and motioned for him to join their ranks. She bent over in order to make her eyes level with his.

"This is serious, Harry," she whispered. "One false move and we could change all time..."

"I know, I know- I have used a Time-Turner before," he sighed. Persephone looked at him with suspicion.

"When did you use a Time-Turner?" she asked.

"Hermione was given one in order to do loads of classes in third year. We got into a bit of a tangle and had to use it to set a few wrongs right," he replied.

"You can tell me the full story later," Persephone conceded, and merely pushed him towards the others in the party, and watched him as he put on his Invisibility Cloak.

"Hang on, this machine uses magic. How can Augustine use it, if he's immune to magic?" Harry asked, suddenly, whilst in the middle of putting on his Invisibility Cloak. Augustine smiled at Harry's half-visible body.

"Ah, vampires are immune to most magic spells, yes," he explained, "however, the magic used to power this time-machine is so potent, even we are not resistant."

Harry nodded in understanding, and proceeded to cover himself completely with his Invisibility Cloak.

Sam, however, suddenly jerked his hand to his ear and scratched it wildly. He looked sheepishly at Persephone.

"I might have to give the covert operation a miss," he admitted. Persephone looked at him with an expression of understanding.

"Time of the Month?" she enquired. Sam laughed hoarsely.

"Yep, bad moon rising, and all."

Tonks, Shacklebolt and Dumbledore looked at him in surprise.

"You're a werewolf?" Shacklebolt asked. Sam smiled coldly at him.

"Yep, and don't even think of getting me registered," he growled, before offering Lupin a wave.

"Like knows like, eh?" he asked, at which Lupin smiled weakly.

Alex quickly reached up to a nearby shelf for what looked to Harry like a tranquilliser gun, but Lupin motioned to her to stop.

"It's okay, I've been taking Wolfsbane Potion for the last three years," he explained, and Alex lowered her hands. Persephone inexplicably burst out laughing.

"What, so your surname's Lupin, and you're a werewolf?" She burst into a fresh peal of laughter, before calming down. "Oh, the irony- you must have been a laughing-stock at school!" she tittered.

Lupin raised his eyebrows at her and fixed her with possibly the most malevolent glare Harry had ever seen him express outside of being faced with Peter Pettigrew in the Shrieking Shack during Harry's third year. Persephone looked suitably embarrassed.

Sam grinned, and turned to face Persephone.

"Excellent. I guess we'll just pad around here and you can tell us everything once you..."

He stopped speaking, and began to transform before Harry's very eyes, howling in agony as he did so, accompanied by an equally pained Lupin. Harry shuddered at the image of two grown men simultaneously reduced to such torture, and a quick glance around the room confirmed he was not alone in his concern.

"Well, we're one man down," Persephone said, "care to make up the numbers, Tonks?"

Tonks looked slightly askance at her.

"So, no longer too maladroit for you, eh?" she replied.

"You don't need stealth to wrestle Faith to the ground," Persephone retorted, handing them each a pendant that appeared to be made of the same crystal the orbs of the time machine were. Harry gazed at it in wonder. It shimmered in the absence of light and felt as light as a feather.

"Transducers for the machine," Persephone announced, "as soon as we're ready to come back, simply point your wand at that pendant and use the End Enchantment spell. You'll be transported back here instantly."

Alex handed Persephone a bundle of blood-red robes with fur around the collar and cuffs, and a black woollen robe of some description.

"You sure these'll fit her?"

"I'll sort it out when we find her," she replied, as she put on the black woollen robes, and fastened them around her neck. Wearing that heavy woollen cloak, Harry thought she looked vaguely reminiscent of somebody's governess.

Alex gave her a small nod.

"Good luck," she said, as Persephone rounded up Augustine, Tonks and Harry and positioned them in the centre of the Maltese cross.

"Dextera; Commuto tempus," she commanded, and the entire room began to fill with static once again. Harry looked around and saw jets of white light fly towards him, and closed his eyes, ready to brace the impact. He suddenly felt a sharp pain in his ribs, and then the sensation of collapsing into an endless chasm, broken only by the feeling of what he imagined it must feel like to be folded in on yourself.

When he opened his eyes again, he saw a place that was both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time.