The Man of the Moment

Chapter Twenty-One: Danger By Association

"Harry? Harry, are you alright? Can you hear me?"

Harry slowly drifted into consciousness, and was dimly aware of Hermione's face looming over him, asking lots of questions.

"Harry? Are you alright?" she asked, again. Harry pulled himself up into a sitting position.

"I'm fine, I think," he said, groggily. Then he became acutely aware that Hermione was looming over him, and he was completely naked.

"Ron switched the shower off, but we didn't want to move you, just in case you'd hurt yourself," Hermione continued, looking steadfastly at Harry's forehead.

"What happened, mate?" Ron asked, hastily handing Harry a towel to preserve his modesty. To Harry's utter horror, he saw that Ginny was standing nearby as well. She caught his glance.

"We didn't look, or anything!" she proclaimed, haughtily.

Harry shakily stood up, wrapping the towel around him as he did so.

"I... I..." He quickly looked around to see if anyone other than Ron, Hermione and Ginny might be listening. Satisfied that the rest of the team were not within earshot, he lowered his voice.

"I had a vision- I saw Voldemort again," he said. Hermione frowned.

"Aren't you supposed to be fighting those off with Occlumency?" she asked. Harry nodded.

"I was! Well, I did, and then I couldn't hold it off anymore... I don't think he noticed," he replied.

"What did you see?" Ron asked, anxiously. Harry squeezed his eyes shut for a moment,

"He was talking to Wormtail," Harry explained, as he struggled to recall the details. "Voldemort told him to find someone, said he'd be the chink in his armour..."

"Harry?" Hermione sounded worried. Ron grabbed Harry's clothes.

"You'd better get dressed," he instructed. "We'll take you to McGonagall."

Harry nodded in compliance, and began briskly drying himself off and stumbling to put his clothes back on, whilst Hermione and Ginny suddenly became fascinated by the shower fixtures in the opposite cubicle.

"Harry, what happened?" Natalie MacDonald asked, as Ron, Hermione and Ginny ushered him out of the changing rooms.

"Just fell over," Harry lied, as they passed through the exit of the changing rooms into the underground corridor.

"What you saw, Harry- do you know what it meant?" Ron asked again. "McGonagall will want to know."

"I'm not sure," Harry replied, feebly. "I think it had something to do with Snape- Voldemort said he wanted to kill him personally, but that he might still be useful... something about getting information out of Malfoy, despite the memory charm on him..."

"Well, at least Persephone knows her attempts worked," Hermione added, darkly. "What else?"

"I don't know," Harry said, feeling slightly irritated by the constant stream of questions. "Just that she- whoever 'she' happens to be- was the chink in his armour, and if they had her, he would follow- that was all."

They soon reached the second floor, Harry almost carried there by his friends. As they reached the stone gargoyle that guarded the entrance to the Headmistress' office, Harry realised that he didn't know the password.

"Haversacking Humphrey," Hermione commanded, and the gargoyle moved aside, exposing the revolving staircase that led to McGonagall's office. Ron and Hermione helped Harry onto the stairs; he was starting to shiver with the cold, which he presumed was due to the fact that his hair was still pretty wet after his hasty dressing in the changing rooms.

"I'll take your stuff back to the Gryffindor Common Room," Ginny announced. Harry smiled at her.

"Thanks, Ginny," he replied, appreciatively. Ginny frowned at him.

"Just so long as you promise to tell me anything interesting that happens!" she warned, before rushing along the corridor and up the nearest flight of stairs, her red hair flying wildly behind her.

As Harry, Ron and Hermione rushed into McGonagall's circular office, Harry couldn't help but notice that it seemed incredibly crowded; McGonagall, Snape and Persephone were there, with all thirty-eight of the people who invaded the Quidditch pitch earlier. Upon the three students' rather ungainly entrance, it also fell rather silent.

Harry heard one of the elder people present say something in a language that made no sense to Harry. The old man he had seen address the school was nodding in comprehension.

"What are they doing here?" he asked, in a somewhat terse manner. Persephone touched his hand.

"It's alright, Armel; this boy is my brother. Harry, what's the matter?" she asked, suddenly turning her attention to Harry, who was currently being held upright by Ron and Hermione.

"He saw Voldemort in the changing rooms," Ron said, breathlessly, before seeing the look of horror on everyone's faces.

"I mean in his head, in the changing rooms," he corrected. Harry felt Snape glare at him.

"Did Persephone and I waste the past two years bothering to teach you Occlumency?" he asked, icily.

"For your information, I was doing fine," Harry snapped. "I lost it somewhere... I didn't feel anything after; I don't think he knew I was there."

Persephone sighed. "Well, that's a relief."

The old man Persephone had called Armel fixed his piercing gaze upon Harry.

"You see inside the Dark Lord's head?" he asked. Harry merely nodded.

"Sometimes, I do," he replied. The old man stared at him as though he were some kind of abomination.

"If you see his evils through your eyes, you must be part of those evils, Mahrime!"

The rest of the dark-robed people present began muttering, "Mahrime!" under their breaths, except for the little girl in white who was sitting on the floor, playing with a model of the solar system that Harry knew used to belong to Dumbledore.

"Why are they proposing marriage to you, Harry?" Ron asked in a whisper. Harry shrugged.

"I don't think they are, Ron," he replied. Persephone leaned over to both of them.

"Mahrime- it's a term used when describing someone as spiritually unclean or impure. They're using it to describe you because of your visions, Harry," she explained. "Seeing things in your head is generally considered an abomination. So is keeping a dog in your house, oddly enough- there are lots of rules pertaining to the culture and safety of the tribe, and you've just broken a pretty big one."

"Great; I'm going to be either dead or a murderer- and a dirty one, on top of that," Harry replied, sarcastically. Persephone shrugged.

"I wouldn't worry- they've said it to me at least seven times today; just because I died a couple of times," she explained, as though the thought of finding her return from death uncomfortable was a ridiculous notion. "See what I mean about all those rules? Death is something to fear and respect, and I've laughed in its face not once, but twice."

McGonagall leant over to Snape with a look of confusion on her face; presumably she was asking him what the word 'Mahrime' meant. Snape whispered something back, which caused McGonagall's expression to falter. She stood up suddenly.

"Arm..." She trailed off upon seeing Persephone and Snape's horrified faces, and coughed. "Frederick," she corrected herself, "I don't appreciate the way you are referring to my students!"

Frederick looked at her darkly.

"I do not trust this boy; he can see the Dark Lord in his head?" he asked, incredulously. "No good can come of such a thing!"

"It's not like I do it on purpose," Harry retorted, which earned him an icy glare from Frederick.

"Do not speak to me in that manner, incorrigible little Gaje," he spat back. Harry sighed; he was beginning to see the family resemblance. Frederick paced around the room.

"He sees the eyes of one who cuts a swathe through Europe, killing my children, my fore-fathers; forcing us to abandon our separate lives and find one another once more."

Persephone looked stunned.

"How can we all come together without finding one ridiculously big vardo?" she asked, her tongue firmly embedded in her cheek. Almost instantaneously, Ron raised his hand.

"Vardo?" he enquired. Persephone pursed her lips momentarily.

"They're sort of like mobile caravans. People live in them, and they're pulled by horses whenever the tribe want to move to a new camp..."

The little girl playing with the model of the solar system giggled.

"We don't use horses anymore, silly!" she pointed out, although she did not turn around. "Enchanted vardos are much faster."

Persephone smiled politely, before stating, "Anyway, my point being, our tribe runs into the thousands, doesn't it?"

Frederick laughed darkly.

"Not anymore, Proserpine," he replied, as one of the younger women handed him a package. "We in this very room are all whom remain of the Snapes."

He pulled out a series of photographs from the package, and handed them to Persephone, who looked increasingly horrified with every picture. She passed them onto Snape, and save for one brief moment where horror flitted across his facial features, his expression was guarded.

"We came to seek your assistance; we know of your involvements in this upcoming war- both of you. We also know of - we fear the Dark Lord's murderous path will spread; he has already orchestrated the deaths of my three eldest children- Ramla is the only one left." He looked across at the small girl in white with fondness. She turned around, pushing a mass of raven hair out of her face, showing big brown eyes peering out from a small, tanned face and figure. Harry felt the blood drain from his own face- this was the girl he had been seeing in all his dreams!

"Angela?" he enquired, breathlessly, before he had even realised he was speaking. The girl scowled at him.

"Daddy- why does he know my common name?" she asked. Frederick glared hotly at Harry.

"That's what I'd like to know, Mahrime..."

"Stop calling him that, please!" Persephone interrupted, suddenly, before turning to Harry, evidently awaiting an explanation.

"I think I need to sit down," Harry managed to reply, and he felt Ron and Hermione swiftly guide him to a chair. He gratefully sat down and tried to compose himself.

Persephone crouched beside him.

"What happened, Harry?" she asked, gently but firmly. "Did you see Voldemort mention anything about Angela?"

"No!" Harry replied, quickly. "It was nothing..."

"Tell us!" Frederick boomed, and Harry almost jumped out of his seat with the shock. Persephone glowered at the old man.

"Armel, can't you see the boy is more frightened about this that you are?" she remonstrated. "Please, just let him speak."

Frederick muttered something that Harry couldn't understand- except he heard the words 'Mulo' and 'Mahrime'. Snape, who had been leaning against McGonagall's desk in a languid fashion, suddenly jumped up at Frederick's words.

"If you want our help, insulting us is hardly the best way to go about it," he snapped. Frederick's dark eyes flashed with anger; he looked unrepentant.

"This is just what I expected from your branch of the tribe," he spat. "Your father's mistake was never in marrying that Gaje, it was in capitulating himself for her. You all suffered for his pampering of her whims- you should have been travelling, finding your home in the spirit of the land and your people, not remaining stagnant in one place, believing home is one small building, and not the mountains and plains..."

"I know; you've told us this at least seven times today," Snape interrupted, curtly. Frederick frowned at him.

"And you had to follow in your father's footsteps, didn't you? Chasing after Gaje girls. I hear you married one," Frederick pointed out. Snape shrugged.

"You've told me this five times," he replied, but Frederick seemed unconcerned.

"You're just like him; you seem to take pleasure in making life difficult for yourself, and for making choices that endanger you- it's as though you simply enjoy the pain that comes with such idealistic decisions." He sighed heavily. "This Gaje woman, she is a Muggle, too?"

"She is a witch," Snape corrected him, "but she is born of Muggles, if that's what you mean."

Frederick simply nodded, but Harry got the impression that Alex's Muggle heritage was not much of an issue.

"Better than one of those stagnant, so called purebloods- I was concerned for a while, in your younger years, that you would end up marrying that Black woman," Frederick said. Snape pulled a face that suggested Frederick had expected him to marry his sister.

"You needn't have worried," Snape replied, curtly. Frederick looked at the floor for a moment, before looking back up at Snape.

"This wife; I suppose you would endanger yourself for her safety?"

"I care for her," Snape replied, nonchalantly. Frederick waved his hand in dismissal.

"So, you would," he replied. "I thought as much..."

"Just like my father, I know," Snape interrupted. Frederick laughed harshly.

"No- your father had not the intelligence to understand when one should fight against a woman, and when one should fight for her; it is expected that you protect your wife from the brutalities of others- that is your job as a husband..."

Ron scoffed.

"How romantic," he said under his breath. Harry, however, felt his brain begin to work in overdrive. 'If we have her, he'll sing like a canary'...

"Harry?" Persephone asked, her expression one of concern.

"Voldemort is going after Alex," Harry said, suddenly. It all made perfect sense. She was now Snape's wife, which Malfoy knew; and it seemed pretty clear to Harry that the Snapes regarded protecting their spouses as one of the wedding vows.

"Harry, are you sure?" Hermione asked, once Persephone had stood up and walked away. Harry nodded.

"Why wouldn't I be?" he asked.

"Well, it's just that you didn't exactly hear Voldemort mention any names..."

"I know what I heard," Harry interrupted. "He wanted to make Snape talk, and was going to use someone to do it that Malfoy had told him about. It must be Alex."

Persephone was now pacing around the room, deep in thought. Snape's expression was unreadable.

"Are you sure, Potter?" he asked, curtly.

"I know what I heard," Harry repeated, trying to quell the anger attempting to colour his tone of voice.

"We ought to get her protected," Persephone said. "It'd be very bad for all of us involved if she was to be captured, after all."

"Why is she so important?" Angela asked.

"She knows things that the Dark Lord would like to know," Snape replied, calmly. Angela seemed satisfied with this response, and went back to studying the model of the Solar System.

"I'll contact the Order," McGonagall said, walking towards the fireplace in the office and grabbing a pinch of powder that made the flames turn green. Persephone nodded.

"I'll contact Alex," she said, pulling out what looked like a money-pouch from under her robes. Harry knew better, however; he had seen Alex use one of these devices to speak with Snape during her brief visit to Privet Drive.

"No need, Perce," Alex said, as the door to McGonagall's office flew open. "I heard about Potter's little episode from Miss Weasley- thought I ought to investigate."

"Your sense of timing is impeccable," Persephone drawled, to Alex's amusement.

"I try, Perce," she replied, sitting down on a nearby chair. Harry watched with amazement as she looked around the room- Alex no longer had any need to move her head; instead, her unnaturally blue eyes whirled around in their sockets, independently of each other. It was a very strange sight indeed; Mad-Eye Moody at least had one normal eye that one could use as the 'window to his soul', as it were. Alex had no such point of reference; the effect made her look oddly inhuman. Harry also noticed for the first time that her stomach protruded out in a way it never had before. For the first time, it was obvious that she was pregnant.

"So, why are all these people here?" Alex demanded, coolly.

"They are our tribe; or what's left of it," Persephone explained. "They want our help in protecting them..."

"Avenging us," Frederick corrected. Snape handed the photographs he had been looking through to Alex, who scrutinised them carefully, apparently apathetic as to their contents.

"Voldemort?" she asked. Snape nodded.

"It would appear so," he answered. Alex nodded, and placed a hand on Snape's arm.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. Snape shrugged.

"It's hardly your fault," he replied. Frederick eyed them both suspiciously.

"Is this the woman?" he demanded of Snape.

"If you mean my wife; yes," Snape replied. Alex looked at Frederick with equal suspicion.

"Do you make a habit of enquiring about people through others?" she asked, in a cold voice. "I suggest the next time you want to know about me, you ask me."

Frederick looked askance at her.

"Rude, snappish and with a semblance of backbone- I can see why you'd be attracted to her," he said to Snape. To Harry's astonishment, Frederick appeared to deliver the words without a trace of sarcasm.

Angela, on the other hand, seemed to be far more interested by Alex's arrival than by any of the other distractions occurring in McGonagall's office.

"Hello," she said, rushing over to where Alex stood. "What happened to your eyes? Why is your tummy so big..." She placed her head against Alex's stomach.

"Erm, what are you doing?" Alex asked; clearly amused by the girl's behaviour. Angela looked up at her, and pouted.

"You've got babies in there!" she said, accusatorily. Frederick raised an eyebrow at Snape, who adjusted the collar of his robes.

"Twins," he replied. "A boy and a girl. They're due in September..."

Frederick's cold expression had been replaced by a huge grin that suggested he was no longer concerned about Alex's Gaje heritage.

"A boy? Well, well- I've been trying for over forty years to get more boys born into out tribe!" he said, excitedly. "I thought we would never be able to carry on the tribal name- especially after all the death that has plagued us these past months. But a boy? We may still see the day that the Snapes continue to make their presence known amongst the world!"

"Don't bank on it," Ron muttered under his breath. "It looks like that prophecy is coming true after all."

Harry knew what he meant. 'The lineage of the Snape's would be annihilated'- if there were only thirty-eight members of a tribe left that had run into its thousands, it seemed pretty likely that there was more to come.

"Well," Hermione whispered back, "at least now we know that Snape might not betray the Order."

Ron looked at her as though she had gone mad.

"And how do you figure that one out?" he asked. Hermione looked at him.

"Well, 'the youngest boy of the tribe' is no longer Snape, is it? It's his son. He might betray the Order, as an unborn... Okay, that's preposterous," she ended. Ron nodded vigorously.

"It really, really is," he replied, patting her on the back. Harry sighed deeply.

"Not necessarily," he replied. "It could just mean that this war is going to go on for decades; little boy Snape could betray the Order as a man."

Ron looked ashen.

"I never thought of that," he replied hollowly. Harry couldn't bear to form any reply- the mere thought of this going on for years and years made him want to crawl into a hole and just sleep. He didn't think he would be able to cope with such a burden as being the only one who can vanquish Voldemort if it meant dealing with it for longer than he'd been alive so far.

"So, do you have any idea why Voldemort might be attacking your tribe?" Alex asked, flicking through the photographs once again. Frederick glared at her.

"Is it not enough that the Dark Lord destroys our number, and expects no consequence?" he demanded. Alex looked at him.

"If you want any help- be it protection or a means to get even, it would be very useful if we could work out why he is targeting you. Unless you factor Muggles and Muggle-borns into the equation, Voldemort does not kill simply because he can; he does it for a reason, which suggests to me that your tribe must be particularly loathsome to him. You may have either something he wants, or are a threat to him... whatever the reason, we need to know."

Frederick frowned for a moment. The young auburn haired woman by his side also appeared to be in deep thought, as did many of the other tribe members. Angela was looking at them all individually, as though she was following the movement of the Quaffle in a Quidditch match.

At that moment, Harry saw the fireplace crackle into life once more, and with it, the arrival of a few Order members. Kingsley Shacklebolt and Tonks entered the office first, brushing soot off their robes, followed by Hestia Jones, Mad-Eye Moody and Lupin.

"These are a few of our... assistants," McGonagall announced, carefully. "They wish to ensure that everything within our power to do about this travesty is done."

The mood of the tribe turned ugly, however. Harry watched as many of them exchanged dark looks and glared in disgust and horror at the Order members. They began to mutter things under their breath, until Harry could only figure out one word that spread rhythmically through the air. Mulo.

"I don't get it," Ron commented. "They want the Order's help, right? Why are they so furious? Unless they just wanted Snape and Persephone involved..."

Hermione shook her head.

"It isn't the Order," she said, quietly.

"Then what is it?" Harry asked.

"It's Lupin," she replied, quietly.

Harry soon saw that she was right; the Snapes were definitely directing their hatred at Lupin. Frederick shielded a particularly unconcerned Angela against himself. Lupin looked around at the tribe as amiably as he could, before catching Snape's eye.

"I suppose you told them about me?" he asked, a little coolly. Snape shrugged.

"Oddly enough, you didn't crop up in conversation," he replied, testily.

"It's just something that- en mass- our tribe are attuned to," Persephone explained. Lupin sighed, and attempted to look the assembled Snapes in the eye.

"Look, it's fine," he reasoned. "I'm not contagious, I'm only dangerous one night of every lunar month, and everyone here can vouch for the fact that I certainly don't bite." He smiled genially at his own joke.

"I won't," Snape added, swiftly. Lupin glared at him, which served to infuriate the tribe further. Instead of saying anything to Snape, he calmly walked towards Frederick, who seemed to have established himself as the spokesperson for the tribe simply by his deportment.

"Remus, don't," Persephone warned, but her plea fell on deaf ears. Lupin stepped forward to say something, but Frederick pushed a silver cross into his face, at which Lupin appeared merely amused by. The man began to chant something, but Harry could only make out the word 'mulo'.

"Remove yourself from our presence, wolf; no mulo shall harm our people!" Angela spat, staring angrily at Lupin. Persephone grimaced.

"Didn't really need the translation, Ramla," she pointed out. Angela shrugged.

"I didn't." she replied. "Papa's using the Silver."

Persephone looked horrified, but Lupin looked incredulous.

"I speak from experience when I say I have no aversion to silver," he explained, calmly.

"Remus, just back off, please!" Persephone ordered, loudly. Lupin turned to face her, at which point, Harry saw the large silver cross in Frederick's hand glow a shimmering white. The effect was instantaneous. Lupin's eyes widened, and all the blood appeared to drain from his face. His hands began to tremble, and he staggered back. Harry stood up in horror.

"Remus!" he called, frightened by what was happening to him. Persephone hurried over to where Lupin was and caught him before he fell. Gently, she sat him in the chair that Harry had previously occupied.

"Are you okay?" she asked. Lupin appeared conscious, but he was trembling all over, and his face was almost white.

"What happened?" he asked feebly.

"What will happen again if you dare to approach us!" Frederick insisted. Persephone glared at him.

"Armel, don't you dare use that on him again!" she ordered. Frederick shrugged.

"I become concerned when you appear to forget your teachings, Proserpine," he countered.

"Besides, it isn't as though Lupin is going to die from the Silver," Snape pointed out. Persephone did not appear satiated by this.

"Severus!" she exclaimed. "That does not mean it isn't unpleasant!"

Harry wasn't surprised when Snape appeared completely unconcerned by her words.

Suddenly, Lupin's shoulders hunched forwards, and Persephone swiftly grabbed the nearest receptacle for him to vomit into, which he did continuously for the next minute.

"What did they do to him?" Harry asked, aggressively. Persephone sighed.

"They used the tribal silver on him; it's an old spell that involves the use of specially tempered silver. The chant causes a hex to run through the silver and attack the wolf inside the werewolf. It doesn't kill, but it has an adverse effect. Remus will be fine in about fifteen minutes," she explained, before turning to Lupin. "Forgive me; our tribe have many customs and superstitions concerning death, one of which is that death is an unnatural process. If the deceased are not shown the proper respect, fear and containment, it is believed that it will result in them descending to the underworld- otherwise known as Hell. If this happens, they will return to this earthly plane to avenge the living. That's what a 'mulo' is- one tainted by death. They are often said to roam the earth as wolves- you being a werewolf means that you are seen as the embodiment of such an attack, and so the tribe must be protected at all costs," she explained. Lupin looked at her, and wiped his sweaty, greying face with his hand.

"Great, I feel so much happier knowing that my insides were burned from the inside out in self-defence," he growled.

"It is the cleansing fires of our people paralysing the mulo that infects your body!" Frederick hissed. Persephone shrugged her shoulders.

"It's prejudice, Remus, but an entirely different kind; if it's any consolation," she said, quietly.

Alex paced the room, her magical eyes revolving all over the place as she glared at every person she could.

"Right; now we've got that out of our systems, would we perhaps like to talk business?" she enquired, acerbically. "Do any of you know why Voldemort would possibly be targeting you?"

Frederick's forehead creased as he frowned. Harry tried very hard not to look at Snape- after what happened to Porphyria, it seemed obvious to him why Voldemort would be attacking the Snapes.

"I do not know," Frederick said, finally. The woman by his side tugged at his arm, and he turned to face her, speaking softly to her in a language Harry didn't understand, but, from the look on Persephone's face, she did. Frederick nodded as the woman replied, before looking at Alex again.

"My wife Ameline says that when she found my children slaughtered, their vardos had been ransacked. It is possible the Dark Lord might have been looking for something, but what? I am afraid I have no clue," Frederick explained. Alex exhaled sharply.

"Well, it's something to work with," she replied.

"Alex," McGonagall interrupted. "You wished to know about what happened to Mr. Potter?"

Alex snapped her fingers.

"Sorry; yes I did," she replied. McGonagall looked grim.

"He saw a discussion Voldemort was having; he seems to think you are in danger from him," she said. Alex snorted.

"That's a risk of doing the job I do," she replied. Persephone looked at her.

"This is a more immediate risk, Al," she explained. "Apparently, Voldemort has singled you out, in order to get Severus to talk."

Alex's eyebrows rose a little.

"Harry, are you sure?" she asked, and Harry nodded, before remembering that she had her back to him. It made no difference, for she evidently saw his response, and nodded slowly.

"How did he remember everything about Severus and I?"

It unnerved Harry to know that Alex was not facing him, and yet she could see him clearly.

"He managed to break through the memory charms Persephone placed on Malfoy," Harry replied. Alex nodded again, but said no more.

"Al, we want to put you under protection," Persephone explained.

"Not a chance- I have a job to do," Alex replied, stiffly. Snape turned to face her.

"Alexandra, this is serious..."

"You think I don't know that?" she retorted, incredulously.

"I don't think you know what he's capable of," Snape replied. "If the Dark Lord wants something; he gets it. If he's after you, you're going to need all the help you can get."

Alex's facial expression conveyed fury, except that her expressionless eyes did not match the emotion.

"Why do you talk up his power, Severus? Don't you have any faith in me?" she asked, icily.

"Of course I have faith in you," Snape replied. "I just have a healthy amount of fear."

"I fought Voldemort's forces throughout the last war," Mad-Eye Moody pointed out. "Best not leave anything to chance, hey?"

Alex sighed.

"Fine, I accept- but keep it low-key. Many of our comrades could be out there doing far more important things that babysitting me," she instructed, before standing up to address Frederick.

"Do you mind if I keep these?" she asked, gesturing toward the photographs. "I'd like to take a closer look at them, see if they show any patterns to the attacks..."

"Of course," Frederick replied, having evidently taken a slight liking to Alex purely on the basis of her being pregnant with a boy. Harry bit down on his lip in an attempt not to laugh, despite the gravitas of the situation.

"Mind if I take a look, Alex?" Kingsley Shacklebolt asked, genially. Alex handed him the photos.

"Sure thing," she replied.

"What are you going to do, Armel?" Persephone asked, whilst still attending to a rather pale looking Lupin.

"I imagine we will stay here for a while- we would be happy to offer our assistance in the war..."

"We can manage," Mad-Eye interrupted, swiftly. Frederick looked at him coolly.

"Whether you believe in our intentions or not is irrelevant," he explained. "You need only understand that we want the Dark Lord to pay for these atrocities. You cross the tribe; you pay the price."

McGonagall began to rummage through her desk drawers.

"I'm sure we can provide some accommodation, if you desire it- Hogwarts has an impressive capacity for acquiring extra space when it is needed," she offered. Frederick smiled, but shook his head.

"Thank you, but there is no need. We shall be quite happy to remain in the vicinity; it is our way, after all." He gave Persephone and Snape somewhat accusatory looks, before ushering all thirty-eight members of the Snape tribe out of McGonagall's office.

"Bye, bye!" Angela said, cheerily- her previous fury apparently quite forgotten, before Frederick guided her firmly towards the office door, and shut it behind him.

"Well, that was fun," Lupin commented, darkly, once they had left. Persephone looked guiltily at him.

"Are you alright to stand up?" she asked. Lupin attempted to rise up from his chair, but after a few seconds of trying to stay upright on very shaky legs, he gave up and sat back down.

"I'm really sorry, Remus," Persephone said.

"So you keep saying; it is hardly your fault," Lupin replied, gently.

"I feel responsible," she explained.

Mad-Eye began to pace the room in a frustrated manner.

"This just gets better and better, and I thought the Death Eaters were insane!" he spat, glaring at Snape, who raised an eyebrow in a murderous fashion.

"Have a little respect; they've just experienced mass genocide!" he spat back.

"Let's just concern ourselves with the facts," Kingsley pointed out, calmly. "We have a two-pronged situation on our hands; Voldemort apparently knows that Severus has been pulling the wool over his eyes, and is planning to use Alex as bait. At the same time, he has also been attacking the Snapes. Aren't the two simply connected? At the risk of belittling this grave situation; isn't Voldemort simply trying to exact revenge upon you, Severus?"

Snape smirked.

"If he was after revenge, I can't see why slaughtering my tribe would do it- you heard them; Persephone and I are almost non-entities to them. I haven't seen Frederick since my father died; and I didn't even know you had met him, Persephone," he pointed out. Persephone shrugged.

"I was introduced to Frederick's side of the tribe when I was about ten, I think- he did keep in contact with Porphyria," she explained. "But it doesn't seem like Voldemort's style; if this was a threat to Severus, surely he would have issued his demands by now?"

Kingsley frowned. Hestia Jones looked deep in thought.

"What about the ransacking of the- what are they? Vardos?" she asked. Persephone nodded.

"Yeah; basically highly decorated mobile houses. That would suggest Voldemort was after something; but what?" She exhaled sharply, and Harry could see her brow furrowing in contemplation.

"Where exactly will the Snapes be staying?" McGonagall asked, suddenly. "They wouldn't try to pitch camp within the grounds, would they? I really wouldn't know how to explain that one to the students..."

"I'd imagine they'd steady their vardos in the Forbidden Forest," Persephone explained. "It's sheltered, and the amount of fierce creatures there would keep them relatively protected."

"Except from the fierce creatures," Tonks pointed out. Lupin raised his hand.

"Somehow, I think they've already got many preventative methods for dealing with such occurrences," he commented, somewhat sarcastically.

Despite every other person in the room talking intently about the new turn of events, Harry still felt concerned about Angela. He had seen her in such vivid detail in his dream; even her voice had sounded the same. Yet she had calmly vanished from his side during one of his dreams, as though she was expecting to die... The whole thing made Harry's skin crawl.

The walk back to the Gryffindor Common Room was a quiet one; neither Harry, Ron nor Hermione felt much like chatting. Harry couldn't stop thinking about the prophecy he had heard Alex pronounce to him- it appeared to be coming true. The tribe of the Snapes was indeed on the way to being annihilated, and this led Harry to numerous conclusions. Firstly, if the Snapes were on their way to being annihilated, it was likely both Snape and Persephone were going to die in the none-too-distant future, and Harry really didn't know how he would be able to cope with losing Persephone, especially remembering how he felt when Sirius had gone through the veil. It had been hell and torment on earth for a year- and although the pain was still there, it was bearable now. Just.

Second on Harry's agenda of disheartening thoughts was that if this part of Alex's prophecy was coming true, it meant the other parts probably would too-such as the day that the climax of Voldemort's evil was apparently due to flourish. This brought Harry swiftly to the third item on his mental agenda- Trelawney's prophecy to Dumbledore, made before Harry was born, claiming him to be the only one with the power to vanquish Voldemort. Now, Harry certainly didn't claim to be amazingly clever- that was Hermione's job- but he could make the connection between vanquishing Voldemort and the climax of Voldemort's evil. The picture this agenda painted was hardly the most cheerful; he was highly likely to die this year, and probably with a feeling of grief from losing the last of his blood relatives.

"Knut for your thoughts?" Hermione asked, gently. Harry looked at her groggily, still partly in his own little world.

"I'm going to die on the fifteenth of June," he replied, blearily.

"Come again?" Hermione asked, and Harry explained all about how he had heard Persephone work out that the next eclipse- apparently the literal translation of 'By the darkness of the ravished sun'- was going to be on the fifteenth of June that very year.

"Great," Ron grumbled. "Voldemort's going to kill everyone, and he's going to wait until after our exams are over! He truly is evil! Couldn't he have planned it a month earlier, so we don't have to take them?" He sighed in irritation. "Still, look on the bright side, I suppose- at least we know there's no point in revising..."

"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Sorry- didn't mean to besmirch the good name of education," Ron quipped. Hermione merely glared at him.

"We can't just give in- who knows what will happen?" she asked. Ron shrugged.

"Alex seemed to have a pretty good idea when she spouted the prophecy," he retorted, swiftly. "Trelawney's prophecy to Dumbledore seemed fairly clear, too."

"Who can say? Prophecies are tricky, at the best of times- neither of those prophecies you've just mentioned state unequivocally that we are all going to die!" Hermione exclaimed, though Harry couldn't shake the feeling that she was trying to convince herself more than Ron.

"Doesn't state we won't, either," Ron replied, gloomily.

As they ascended the staircase to the seventh floor, Harry soon found himself face-to-face with Luna, who was descending the same set of stairs.

"Hello, Harry," she said. "Are you alright? I heard some of the Ravenclaws talking about how you had a funny turn. I wondered if you were okay. I went and found Ginny- she said you were with McGonagall..."

"Yeah, I'm fine- I just fainted in the showers, no big deal," Harry lied. Luna looked quizzically at him.

"Sounds like anaemia; you're probably not eating enough spinach," she replied, wisely; although it was hardly information one would expect a witch or a wizard to be overly familiar with. Harry smiled kindly at her, wishing that anaemia really was the root of all his problems. It would be a lot simpler to tackle than a genocidal Dark Wizard.

"Or possibly drinking too much tea- it inhibits the amount of iron you can absorb, apparently," Luna continued. Hermione frowned at her.

"How do you know all of this?" she asked. "This is all Muggle medical advice..." She trailed off. Harry followed her gaze, and saw that Luna had a copy of a magazine entitled 'Top Santé' stuffed under her arm.

"None of the Ravenclaws want to keep any Muggle items around- they seem to think they'll get murdered in their beds by Death Eaters if they do," Luna explained, casually. "I found this in a pile of rubbish Jessica Hyde was about to burn. Fortunately, Professor Flitwick caught her before she set fire to the rug in the Common Room. Anyway, glad to hear you're okay, Harry."

"Thanks, Luna," Harry replied, at which point, Hermione climbed up a step so that she was level with Luna, and grabbed her firmly by the arm.

"Actually, I'd like to have a little chat with you, if you're free," she said, carefully. Luna frowned for a moment, before clicking her fingers in realisation.

"Oh, yes- of course!" she exclaimed. "I've been talking to the ones that come to Ravenclaw Tower- they seem to think you've been trying to trick them into freedom."

Hermione frowned at this comment.

"Trick them? I don't understand- I haven't managed to do much about S.P.E.W. this year..." She trailed off as Ron snorted.

"Oh, we're back on that again, are we?" he asked, scornfully. Hermione glared at him.

"House-Elf freedom is very important!" she retorted. Harry was stunned to find Luna nodding in agreement.

"It's important that they can at least choose to be slaves," she replied. "Some people enjoy that sort of thing, but others don't. It's not really abolishing slavery; it's creating the freedom to choose slavery."

Hermione looked askance at her.

"You do realise that didn't make any sense," she commented. "Freedom to choose slavery? Isn't that oxymoronic?"

Luna shook her head.

"No- oxymoronic refers to two words that have opposite meanings, such as 'pretty ugly'. What I just said was paradoxical," she explained. Ron looked at them both for a moment, and then shook his head.

"Fine," he replied. "Whatever makes you both happy."

Hermione was still deep in thought.

"I don't understand- since when have I tricked anybody into S.P.E.W.?" she asked out loud.

"They were on about a couple of years ago- were you into S.P.E.W. in your fifth year?" Luna prompted. Hermione nodded.

"Yes, I was making hats so the House-Elves could be free; they were really in demand- I couldn't knit them fast enough!"

"Knitting them fast enough for Dobby to nick off with before you offended any more of the House-Elves, more like," Ron interrupted, flippantly. Hermione turned to look at him.

"What?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly. Ron shrugged.

"He kept taking them, because the others got offended by them. They refused to clean Gryffindor Tower," he replied.

"That would explain their attitude," Luna added. "We really ought to explain the misunderstanding, Hermione..."

"And why didn't you think to tell me, Ron?" Hermione almost screamed in fury.

Suddenly, Ron seemed to realise the folly of his admission. He looked nervously around, and began to back away from Hermione, who was shaking with rage.

"Well, at least it proves they really do have freedom of choice," Ron reasoned, which caused Hermione to raise her hand, before balling it into a fist and stuffing it in her robe pocket.

"Ooh, you are unbelievable!" she yelled, looming over Ron, who had shank back a little at her voice.

"Oi, it wasn't just me- Harry didn't tell you, either!" he protested. Harry looked at him with widened eyes.

"Yeah, thanks, Ron!" he piped up. Hermione just glared at them both, apparently uncertain with of them to throttle first.

"We didn't mean to upset you," Harry tried to explain, with Ron nodding feverishly alongside him.

"Yeah- we were trying to protect you, honest!" he added. Hermione's dark countenance did not brighten at these words. She coughed, as though to provide herself with a displacement activity.

"Right, I'm leaving now," she said, in an oddly strangled voice. "I suggest the two of you keep out of my way for the rest of the afternoon; I wouldn't want to end up cursing you both!" she hissed, before sweeping off down the stairs, followed by Luna and her 'Top Sante' magazine.

Harry looked at Ron, who wiped his brow with the back of his sleeve.

"Wow," he said, breathlessly. "I know Hermione can get worked up about things, but I didn't think she'd do her nut like that!"

"More like you didn't think," Harry replied. "You must have realised she'd be furious about her work with S.P.E.W. not going to plan... we really should have told her."

Ron shrugged.

"I think after that display, we did the right thing in trying to keep it quiet, mate," he replied, nonchalantly, although the worried expression in his face told Harry that Ron wasn't so sure at all.

They both continued to quietly make their way up the stairs, and Harry secretly hoped that Ginny would be waiting for them in the Gryffindor Common Room- he could do with somebody who would be able to advise them on the best way to get back into Hermione's good books. Harry really couldn't recall an occasion where he had seen her quite this angry before, and he doubted that she would calm down and start talking to them of her own accord. He glanced across at Ron and saw, to his surprise, that he looked even more concerned than Harry felt. This bewildered Harry for a moment; Ron certainly hadn't suggested to Hermione he was that bothered about hurting her feelings, but then again, on occasion, he found Ron more difficult to understand that Hermione and Ginny combined.

They soon reached their Common Room, only to find that Persephone was nearby, chatting to Benjamin Sampson, her colleague from the Brethren of Tyr.

"What's he doing here?" Ron whispered. Harry shrugged.

"I suppose he's going to help with guarding Alex," he replied, as they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady. Persephone waved at them both, and continued with her discussion, apparently none too concerned about Harry or Ron overhearing.

"Password?" the Fat Lady requested, but Harry was distracted by Persephone's conversation.

"I've sorted out the key areas of weakness; there are Order members and a few of the Dark Force Defence League watching them. Alex doesn't want observations to be too noticeable, so I've put a small inverse Portkey into a pendant for her; it'll alert us to any danger and we can reach her from our current vantage points," she explained. Sam nodded.

"Excellent; I'll get Augustine and some of the others to provide backup, and we should be all set," he replied, rubbing his hands together. Persephone nodded, and smiled.

"Yeah, we should be," she replied. Sam looked at her with concern.

"How are you doing?" he asked. "This had been a bit of a month for you, hasn't it?"

Persephone sighed heavily.

"You can say that again," she replied. Sam grinned at her.

"This has been a bit of a month for you," he replied, and Persephone slapped him on the arm.

"You seem to have cornered the market on terrible jokes, Sam," she said. Sam shrugged.

"Everybody need a hobby," he replied. "Besides, you haven't answered my question."

Harry suddenly became aware of the Fat Lady falsely coughing into her handkerchief, before staring at him and Ron furiously.

"Oi, do you two want to get in or not? I've got better things to do that hang around waiting for passwords, you know," the Fat Lady huffed.

"In a bit," Harry hissed, still intent on hearing Persephone and Sam's conversation. The Fat Lady tutted, before going back to completing her embroidery of a small cottage on a country estate.

"I'm okay," Persephone said, eventually. "I miss my aunt, obviously, but I'm relieved that François let me persuade him to leave Europe."

"Did he get out okay?"

"Oh, yeah- he's fine. Well, as best he can be, given everything that's happened. He's got the sun on his back now and, well, I suppose that's something. I'm worried about the kids here, though. This is not going to be easy- especially with Harry here."

Sam nodded, and kicked at an imaginary piece of dirt with his foot.

"Yeah; what do they say? Oh yeah, 'Always the innocent are the first victims'." He laughed a hollow laugh. "Although in this case, it looks like they might be the last too..." He trailed off, as Persephone's eyes widened and she began to click her fingers in realisation.

"What's the matter, Beau?" Sam asked.

"The children... he's going to attack the school!" Persephone exclaimed. Sam looked curiously at her.

"I'm afraid I don't follow..."

"The prophecy!"

"Which one?"

"Alex's. 'By the darkness of the ravished sun'- the eclipse, which we've already established is on the fifteenth of June. Blah blah blah, 'On that day, he will descend upon the innocent'. He's going to descend upon the school, presumably. Why didn't I think of this earlier?" Persephone groaned, apparently chiding herself. "We need to tell the others. I don't know what we should do- if we evacuate the school, Voldemort will know what we're up to, and most likely will change his plan to something we don't know anything about. Ideally, we can keep the school running as it is, but with some sort of plan in mind..."

As Persephone was talking through strategies to herself, Sam tucked loose strands of his wild mane of reddish-blonde hair behind his ears and fixed Persephone with a gaze that seemed both sympathetic and fearful at once.

"...and the lineage of the Snapes will be annihilated," he said, quietly, still looking at Persephone. She shrugged, but looked a little pained, as though she was afraid, but doing her best to hide the fact.

"Well, I suppose it's as good a day as any to die. Again," she said, almost convincingly.