The Man of the Moment

Chapter Twenty-Six: Revelations

Harry didn't even bother to knock as they reached Snape's office, and Snape was utterly furious about it.

"What do you think you're doing, Potter?" he snapped, as he waved a small vial around in the air. He was clearly about to go off into a long rant, but Harry cut him off.

"Ben says you need to get to the Hospital Wing right away," Harry panted.

"Lupin," Hermione breathed. "He's acting really oddly..." She started to cry.

"We know it's not a full moon," Ron continued, also panting heavily, as he wrapped his arms around Hermione and let her cry into his jumper. Harry took over.

"But Sam thinks Lupin is going to..."

He didn't get that chance to finish his words as Snape looked at the small vial he was holding, which appeared to have changed colour.

"Transform," he said, before grabbing a silver cross from his desk and pelting it out of the office.

"Please don't hurt him!" Hermione begged, as they rushed off after him.

"I'm more concerned about him hurting them," Snape spat as he strode up the staircase, taking two steps at a time. "Now, get back to your common room!"

Although Harry desperately wanted to go back to the Hospital Wing to see if Persephone and Sam were alright, he was old enough now to realise when Snape shouldn't be defied; so he, Ron and Hermione went back to the Gryffindor common room, feeling utterly helpless.

"Oh, I do hope he's alright," Hermione said, her voice shaking. She sat down on one of the comfy chairs, and drew it close to the fireplace, which was still burning merrily.

"Hope who is alright?" Ginny asked, being the only person left in the common room, besides a couple of fourth years sitting on the other side of the room, so engrossed in a game of exploding snap that they clearly hadn't heard a word. Harry looked at his watch. It was half past eleven, so the emptiness of the common room really wasn't much of a surprise.

"Lupin," he whispered, gesturing for Ginny to sit near them. They huddled in front of the fire; Hermione looking the most shocked of them all.

"What happened?" Ginny asked, perching on the arm of Hermione's chair.

"He... well, he's been acting really oddly all day," Hermione began to explain, but Ginny interrupted.

"Odd how?" she asked. Hermione sighed.

"Erm, he kept forgetting who we all were- he called Harry, James, and me, Penny- apparently he thought Persephone was Sirius Black a while ago..."

"And he kept sniffing Hermione," Ron added, in a tone of voice that suggested he was not going to forgive Lupin for that terrible crime in quite a while.

"And he kept complaining that his brain was falling out of his head," Harry finished. "It was well weird."

Ginny frowned.

"Why?" she asked. "It must be Voldemort- but what did he do to him? I know that when Ben returned with him, he needed patching up, but I didn't realise it was this serious!"

"He was administered a potion," Hermione explained. "Snape was trying to figure out what it did, but Ben must have got there first. He seemed to think it induced the transformation of a werewolf..."

"How do you know that?" Ron demanded. Hermione shrugged.

"Ben thought Lupin was going to transform, and he asked us to get Snape. Why ask us to get him if he thought the two events were unrelated?" Hermione asked. Ron nodded in understanding, though he still looked confused.

"But, why did he think he was going to transform?" he asked. Hermione shrugged, which surprised Harry, for it seemed so uncharacteristic of her.

"Perhaps," Hermione mused, "it had something to do with the madness... I mean, in books I've read about the subject, most authors refer to a sort of animalistic fever that grips someone in the throes of a lycanthropic transformation. The first time one transforms, the mental effects become clear to any onlooker- such as the brain-swelling Lupin felt- where he thought his head was splitting, the memory lapses, the..." She trailed off.

"The sniffing of girls' skirts?" Ron offered, helpfully. Hermione blushed.

"Yes, that too," she added. "But after the first few transformations, they don't react so violently..."

"But Lupin's been a werewolf since he was a kid," Ron countered. "So why did he act like he's never done it before."

"He's never transformed without a full moon before," Hermione pointed out.

Harry sighed heavily.

"I had a vision; at least, I think it was a vision," he explained. "In the courtroom- I was going to share it, but by the time I had a chance, Ben had got Lupin. Then Snape got that Eliminator thing, so it seemed pretty redundant..."

"What did you see?" Ginny asked.

"It was Voldemort. He was furious that Persephone had escaped, and ordered the Death Eaters to kill all the Snapes. Then he kicked someone- I later realised it was Lupin- and Voldemort said... he said something like, 'Maybe this will help finish them off.' That made no sense to me, though. I suppose if Ben's right, it makes a lot more sense now."

"You pick a great time to remember these things, Harry," Ron replied.

"Hey, I'd been up all night fending off vampires, give me a break!" Harry protested. Hermione tutted.

"It doesn't matter now," she said.

"But, why?" Ginny asked. "What good would it do to invent something that can induce a werewolf transformation...?"

"I'd say it's pretty bloody useful if you slip it into the water supply!" Ron retorted. Hermione shook her head.

"I don't see how that would work- surely if you can spread lycanthropy through water, half of Hogwarts would have become werewolves, considering the amount of time Lupin spent here," she said.

"I don't follow you," Harry replied. Hermione sighed.

"Toilets. Lupin would have had to use the toilets- I doubt he has an infinitely expanding bladder," she said, somewhat tartly.

"Yeah, we still don't follow," Ron pointed out. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Honestly- where do you think all our waste goes, and where do you think all our water comes from?"

It took Harry, Ron and Ginny a moment to contemplate this new fact. As soon as Harry understood it, he filed it away under the section of his brain marked, 'Too Much Information.'

"Well, what do you think it does, then?" Ron challenged.

"Isn't it obvious, Ron?" Hermione asked.

"If it was, I wouldn't be asking you," he replied. "You're the smart one, not me."

Hermione pursed her lips in irritation, but it was very short lived.

"Lupin didn't start behaving really oddly until sunset, right?"

Harry and Ron nodded.

"He went completely bonkers then," Ron agreed. "Why he kept sniffing your clothes, I will never know!"

Hermione smiled grimly.

"So, I'd guess that whatever Lupin had been poisoned with induced his transformation not during a full moon, but during darkness; during the absence of the sun," she explained. "I mean, I suppose it must be possible, really- lycanthropy is essentially a change in the body triggered by a specific stimulus- the full moon. If you can produce a potion that lessens the effect of this stimulus, such as the Wolfsbane Potion- there's no reason why you couldn't produce one that enhances the effect of the stimulus; or even causes the same response to occur under a different trigger..."

Ginny sighed heavily.

"So Voldemort's got another nocturnal army on his side- providing the vampires follow him once again," she said.

"Which means he's going to have to attack during the night?" Ron asked, as his forehead furrowed in thought. Hermione looked pensive.

"Not necessarily," she replied, darkly. As soon as she had uttered those words, Harry knew what she meant. 'By the darkness of the ravished sun...' If Voldemort did plan an attack during an eclipse, he really would have a whole army of creatures that all men fear: werewolves, not to mention vampires... How far would he go?

Suddenly, the quiet was shattered by a howl. Harry shuddered. It wasn't the kind of howl one associated with Fang or Frank, he was sure. He looked out of the window, and saw a large grey wolf roaming across the Hogwarts ground, flanked by two figures. The first, with his mop of reddish-blonde hair, Harry could easily identify as Benjamin Sampson. He was wielding his wand, and apparently trying to stun Lupin. The other figure was dressed all in black, and only really visible to Harry because of the silvery-white glow that the large cross he was holding emitted. This was definitely Snape, and he was attempting to ward off Lupin, who did seem to be cowering from the cross, whilst trying to avoid Sam's wand.

"Well, it looks like Sam was right about what that potion does," Ron said, with a sigh. Hermione nodded; she too was staring out of the window.

"I really don't like the idea of it being in Voldemort's hands," she whispered, with Ginny nodding beside her.

The next morning, Harry was in Potions class, feeling a lot more awake than he had done during his classes the previous day. True, after what had happened to Lupin, he didn't get the best night's sleep; but he got more sleep than the night before- in other words, more than none- and so felt pretty able to tackle the task of brewing a Detection Potion. They had been given a variety of variables to identify, and they had to adapt the potion accordingly- a fairly difficult task, even by Snape's standards. Hermione, naturally, was well on her way to working out where Terry Boot had hidden his Asphodel roots by adding the relevant ingredients to her solution; whereas Harry and Ron were still working on the base mixture.

"Now," Ron said, his facial expression set in concentration. "Do we add the powdered Unicorn horn before or after the Kneazle hair?"

Harry looked up at the blackboard, and saw out of the corner of his eye that Snape was paying more attention to his own potion brewing than he was to the attempts of his class to brew their Detection Potions.

"Erm, after," Harry replied, on reading the instructions. He wondered what Snape was so immersed in, until he quickly realised it was possibly an antidote of some description to the poison that was forcing Lupin to transform. At least, he hoped it was- Snape had never exactly been a fully paid-up member of the Remus Lupin fan-club; but he had at least continued to brew Wolfsbane Potion for him whilst they were both in the Order.

"Oh, wow!" Harry heard Terry exclaim. "This stuff's really potent, Hermione!"

"Well, it was a fairly simple addition, really," Hermione replied, looking rather pleased with herself. Terry leaned closer to her and lowered his voice to a whisper.

"It's a real pity old Snape's too busy with his own pet project to act like a teacher- he really should pay you more attention," he said, gesturing towards Hermione's gently simmering cauldron. Harry stared at his own cauldron- which appeared to be in danger of bubbling over- as he thought to himself that, at sixteen, Snape had paid enough attention to Hermione to last a lifetime.

As Harry reduced the heat of his and Ron's cauldron, he became aware of an odd thumping noise, which appeared to be coming from the door to the dungeon classroom.

"Don't knock!" a shaky voice hissed from behind the door. "We don't have time!"

"Well, you open it, then!" another quivering voice retorted.

"Fine," the other voice retorted, before the door to the classroom creaked open. Almost immediately, Harry recognised the two frightened boys that shuffled into the room- they were Szeto Ang and Jeremy Archer, whom Harry recalled excitedly talking about meeting up with Angela Snape, their new companion in mischief. Harry assumed they had been caught skiving their morning class and been sent to see Snape as a result- who, Harry had to remind himself, was the Deputy Head of Hogwarts.

That is, until he saw Angela slumped between the two of them; her head resting on Szeto's shoulder. Both Szeto and Jeremy looked beside themselves as Snape noticed them and stormed over.

"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded. "Why are you in my classroom- without knocking, might I add- instead of ducking Devil's Snare in Herb..." he trailed off upon seeing the same thing Harry had, and seemed to go around four shades paler than he already was. Harry realised why as he noticed both Szeto and Jeremy were not wearing their robes- they were standing in Muggle shirts and trousers; their robes were wrapped tightly around Angela's midriff, and the blood seeped through the fabric so much, it began to drip onto the stone floor of the classroom.

"Why in Merlin's name didn't you take her to the Hospital Wing?" Snape barked, as he carefully removed the two robes wound around Angela. Szeto and Jeremy looked at each other in despair.

"We... we started to," Jeremy stammered. "Bu... but then she stopped breathing..."

Szeto took over the conversation by adding, "We'd stopped most of the blood flow- we tried to make her breathe again, but she wouldn't... You talked about putting a stopper in death in one of our lessons; we thought that maybe..." He too trailed off, and looked up beseechingly at Snape, whilst still grasping Angela's hand. For the briefest of moments, Harry thought he saw something resembling sympathy wash over Snape's facial features, but it was quickly replaced by a grim expression upon seeing whatever it was cloaked beneath those robes. Snape wrapped her back up too quickly for Harry to see what had happened to her, and he ushered Szeto and Jeremy out of the classroom, with the lifeless Angela.

"Right- I trust you are old enough and adequately skilled not to blow this classroom up while I'm away. If there is the merest hint of mischief or disobedience concerning this room, these ingredients, each other, or anything else I've neglected to mention; there will be hell to pay!" Snape announced, in his usual cold, low voice, before he too swept out of the classroom, shutting the door behind him.

Almost immediately, the students present broke out into quiet, curious chatter.

"Bloody hell," Ron exclaimed, in a whisper. "Poor Angela."

Hermione nodded; she looked as though she was about to burst into tears.

"She was only ten, wasn't she?" she asked, looking at Harry as she did so. Harry nodded.

"Yeah- she was going to start Hogwarts in September," he replied, before trying to swallow away a dry throat. He felt a terrible sense of foreboding about the whole thing- he remembered his dreams, where Angela seemed to know, and accept, her fate; now the inevitable- according to his dreams- had apparently happened. The thought scared him.

Suddenly, the door to the Potions classroom swung open again, and the classroom fell into silence. Snape was standing in the doorway, a most disconcerting expression on his face.

"Miss Granger, come to my office," Snape ordered. The entire class stared at Hermione as she got up and followed Snape out of the classroom. For the first time, Harry understood why Ginny had been having so much difficulty in controlling her laughter at Snape's comments. Even though Harry knew full well that Snape would have requested to see Hermione for reasons pertaining to her role as Head Girl- most likely to pass a few messages, or to sit with Szeto and Jeremy- he couldn't help but entertain the thought, if only for a moment, that he could have wanted her for altogether more sinister reasons. At least, he probably would have done were he sixteen again. Harry quickly pushed all such thoughts out of his mind; a task that proved rather easy, as Terry has leant over the back of his chair and was apparently in the mood for conversation.

"Golly, what does he want to see her for?" Terry asked Harry and Ron, once the classroom door had shut again. "He can't think she was involved, can he?"

"Don't be daft," Ron replied. "She's Head Girl, isn't she?"

"You're Head Boy," Terry replied. Ron nodded.

"True, but Szeto and Jeremy; they really like Hermione. I think if they wanted anybody with them right now, it'd be her."

Terry seemed happy with this explanation.

"Fair enough," he replied, before adding, "That poor little girl- that's no age to die, is it? Such a tragic accident..."

"I don't think there was anything accidental about it," Harry found himself saying. "I think it was entirely deliberate."

"But who would stoop so low as to kill a child?" Terry asked. Harry and Ron exchanged glances.

"I can think of one person," Harry replied, darkly. "Can't you?"

* * *

Neither Harry nor Ron saw Hermione until lunchtime, at which point they discovered that their original hypothesis of Voldemort's involvement with Angela's death was soon to be superseded by an altogether more terrible theory.

"Where have you been? Are you alright?" Ron demanded, as Hermione wearily entered the Gryffindor Common Room. She dropped her bag on the floor and looked as though she was about to burst into tears for the third time in twenty-four hours. Harry and Ron got up from their game of chess- which Ron had been very close to winning- and walked over to her.

"What happened?" Harry asked, gently, at which point Hermione began to cry.

"Oh, it's simply awful!" she sobbed, putting her arms around Ron's neck and crying into his shoulder. He looked rather embarrassed at first, before he tentatively put his arms around her and allowed himself to hug her properly.

"How are Szeto and Jeremy taking it?" he asked, carefully.

"Oh, they're upset, naturally," Hermione sniffed. "Snape contacted McGonagall somehow, as well as Frederick and Ameline. They were beside themselves- Angela was Ameline's only child, and Frederick's last surviving one..."

Ron guided Hermione over to the nearest chair and sat her down, kneeling by her side. Harry followed suit, and searched her bag for a tissue, which he handed her. She accepted it gratefully, and then smiled.

"Thanks, Harry- oh, Ron, I'm awfully sorry about your shirt," she said, pointing at the wet patch on Ron's shirt collar. Ron shrugged.

"It'll dry," he replied, casually. Hermione sniffed a little.

"Szeto and Jeremy felt awful- I think they thought it was their fault; that they didn't get to her in time. Ameline was great with them, she thanked them for being with her and bringing her body to them. She invited them to the funeral- which I don't think Frederick was too pleased about..."

"Didn't he kick up a fuss about it, then?" Harry asked. Hermione shook her head.

"I get the impression that Ameline often gets her own way, to be honest," Hermione replied, before fresh tears began to trickle down her face. "But that's not the worst of it!"

"What is?" Harry asked, as Hermione wiped her eyes with the tissue in her hand.

"They've started to look into how she died... I got to see her wounds. They were horrible. She had all these slashes across her stomach, arms and legs." She sank forward, leaning her elbows on the tops of her thighs, and resting her chin on her hands. "They were really deep slashes too, and there were bite marks." She scuffed at a bit of the floor with the ball of her left foot, before looking up. "It looked as though..."

"As though she had been savaged by a vicious animal," Harry finished. He knew where this was going, and his stomach sank accordingly.

"You don't mean..." Ron trailed off, having clearly arrived at the same conclusion as Harry, judging by his sudden pallor. Hermione nodded, and sighed.

"It looks like Angela was killed by a werewolf," she finished, sadly.

Harry found himself staring out of the nearest window; unwilling to accept this new turn of events. It wasn't so much the concept that Lupin had transformed into a werewolf and savaged a small child- Harry felt able to separate the man from the beast; Lupin's own personality helped with that. What Harry couldn't stop thinking about was how Lupin was going to take the news once it was broken to him; he knew that Lupin had no recollection of his time as a werewolf whenever he did not take Wolfsbane Potion to staunch the effects of his lycanthropy.

"How is he taking it?" Harry asked quietly, turning from the window to look at Hermione. She rubbed her forehead.

"I don't know. I don't even know if they've found him yet," she replied. Harry stood up at this news.

"Shall we go and find out?" he asked. Ginny nodded

"Yeah, we should," she replied, standing up as well. Ron looked a little wary.

"Shouldn't we wait a while?" he asked, looking at Hermione for support. "He might not even have been found yet; or he's been found, and is in no fit state for visitors."

"That's true," Hermione added, in agreement, "but I can't see what harm it will do to find out. If we're not welcome, I'm sure somebody will tell us."

Ron nodded in agreement.

"Okay," he conceded, pulling himself from his knees into a standing position. "Perhaps we can stay long enough to ensure Hermione misses all of her lessons today."

Ron was rewarded for his flippancy with a swift slap on his arm, courtesy of an indignant Hermione.

* * *

Harry softly knocked on the door of the Hospital Wing, and an irate Madam Pomfrey ushered them in.

"Keep your voice down, and don't miss your afternoon lessons!" she chided, before walking off briskly towards a small doorway within the Hospital Wing.

"Is Remus alright in there?" Sam called from his position next to Persephone's bed. Madam Pomfrey emerged from the small room, and shook her head sadly.

"He hasn't tried anything stupid, but he isn't showing any signs of coming out, either," she replied. Persephone, who was sitting on her bed, hissed sharply through her teeth.

"He's been in there for hours, Sam," she commented. "The only thing he's said to me today is, 'I'm going to take a shower'. I didn't realise he was going to take one all morning!"

Sam shrugged.

"I'll go in the shower room in a minute and insist on scrubbing his back; that'll soon shift him," he joked. Persephone's grim expression didn't so much as flicker.

"I've got to go downstairs and face the family soon," she said, quietly. "They're conducting the funeral tonight. I need to get some photographs for analysis, and prime Szeto and Jeremy on how to behave during the event..."

"Photographs?" Ron asked. Persephone looked up, and seemed surprised for a moment that he was standing there.

"Yeah, to check out Ram... Angela's injuries. Make sure it really is what we think it is," she replied.

"A werewolf attack?" Harry asked. Persephone nodded.

"Yeah. Though I don't think there's much else it could be. I mean, those wounds are definitely concurrent with someone who has been savaged by a werewolf- ask anybody down at the MMD. Besides, when Remus was escorted back in here..." She trailed off, and threw a screwed-up piece of paper into the nearby waste-paper basket. It bounced off the edge of the bin and landed inside. Sam looked up at Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny.

"I know how fond you four are of Remus," he stated. "So I know it won't matter to you what I'm going to say." He took a deep breath. "Basically, Severus and I found him, eventually, around eight o'clock this morning. He gave us the slip last night- searched the Forbidden Forest all night, we did. Even got Rubeus up to help, but to no avail. Anyway, this morning, we found Remus, and he was in a bad way: shaking, bloodied and naked. He was clearly disorientated- he had no idea how he had ended up on the outskirts of the Forest. So, Severus went back to teach his first lesson, whilst Rubeus and I took Remus up to the Hospital Wing..."

Persephone continued the tale.

"So, Madam Pomfrey got him cleaned up, only to find that the blood he was drenched in wasn't his own. Well, most of it wasn't, anyway," she finished.

"Most of it?" Harry asked. Persephone nodded.

"Yeah- I got a bit too rough last night, when he transformed," she explained. Harry stared at her.

"Did you stab him?" he asked. Persephone laughed humourlessly.

"No, of course not." She sighed. "You see, he came right at me. Sam's no decent prey for a werewolf- he already is one. Well, you know I'm an Animagus..."

"What form do you take, then?" Hermione asked. "We heard an awesome screech, I can't think of a single animal around that makes such a noise!"

Persephone smiled darkly.

"Well, that's because there isn't," she explained. "I take the form of a pterodactyl."

"A what?" Ron asked, but Hermione soon put him in the picture.

"They're a type of flying dinosaur," she said, "But I don't understand how that could work- they've been extinct for millions of years..."

"Somewhat ironic, wouldn't you say? Even my Animagus form is one that defies the natural laws of death," Persephone replied.

Harry was stunned. A pterodactyl? It seemed ridiculous, but then again, he could not recall any magical theory that stated the animal into which an Animagus becomes has to remain extant.

"I'm guessing you're unregistered?" Ginny asked. Persephone shook her head.

"Oh, I'm registered. Just not in England. My name is down in Tibet, to be precise. The laws there are a little more lax- they consider the relationship between the person and their animagus to be a sacred and private one, so I did not have to declare my actual form," she explained. Sam appeared to be highly amused by Persephone's story.

"Typical, really- all that money and time the Brethren invested in getting you trained to be an Animagus, and you turned out to have the most useless form out of the entire history of members!" he laughed.

"I don't think a dinosaur is all that useless if you're facing down a werewolf," Harry pointed out. Sam continued to snigger, until he eventually calmed himself down enough to respond.

"Well, yeah- but you have to admit that it's pretty useless for espionage work. Can you imagine a leathery bird with a four foot wingspan blending in anywhere?"

Persephone was grinning.

"Alex was doing her nut, do you remember? Practically banned me from exposing my Animagus form, she did. I've only ever used it three times."

"When?" Harry asked. Persephone counted on her fingers.

"Once last night, where I left Remus with a bit of a gash on his shoulder, I think. Once when Augustine and I busted Faith out of Azkaban, and once... well, how do you think I escaped Voldemort?"

Persephone suddenly fell silent. Harry looked around and soon saw why. Lupin had walked out of the shower room and was looking distinctly peaky. Harry scrutinised him, and saw that it was worse than just the effects of the previous night's transformation. He was clearly haggard with the knowledge that he murdered a small girl last night, and couldn't even remember doing it.

"Feeling better, Remus?" Persephone asked, casually. Lupin didn't reply. Instead, he merely brushed a hand through his wet, greying hair before sitting down on his bed.

"How are you doing?" Harry asked, tentatively. He hadn't seen Lupin looking this terrible since the night he and Hermione helped Sirius escape the Ministry, and that was well over three years ago. It was also the only time Harry could remember having even known Lupin to endure his werewolf transformation without the aid of the Wolfsbane Potion.

Lupin looked at Harry briefly, and for a moment Harry thought he might reply. Instead, Lupin wordlessly drew the curtains around himself; effectively cutting himself off from any possible conversation with anybody in the room.

"Remus?" Hermione enquired, in a gentle voice. Her request was not heeded, and she seemed a little hurt by his rebuttal.

"Leave him," Persephone said, kindly. "He'll get over it."

Sam raised an eyebrow.

"Will he?" he asked, darkly. Persephone shrugged.

"Well, he's going to have to, isn't he," she replied, her expression a mask. "There are bigger things at stake right now."

Ron puffed his cheeks up, and expelled a long stream of air from between his pursed lips, deflating his face in the process.

"And to think I reckoned it would be Snape and Alex that caused the biggest rifts between the Order," he whispered to Harry, who nodded in reply. He understood what Ron was getting at; whichever way you looked at it, Lupin had essentially killed one of Persephone's family members, and so there was a real possibility that she might not know where her loyalties should lie- although Harry felt certain Persephone of all people would understand that Voldemort, not Lupin, was really culpable in this situation. However, Harry wondered how Snape was taking the news; would he continue to try and help Lupin escape this new and terrible curse with which he had been inflicted?

"I wouldn't be surprised if this is what causes Snape to turn back to Voldemort- if he hasn't done so already," Ron commented, at which Hermione glared at him.

"Ron, how can you say that?" she protested, hotly. "He's been marked out for death!"

"All the more reason to start grovelling!" he retorted. Hermione did not look at all pleased by his reaction.

"He is not going to turn back to Voldemort!" she hissed, angrily.

"Thanks, Hermione," Persephone said, languidly. "I'm glad somebody seems to think that. It gives me some hope that I'm not mad, anyway."

With these words, Persephone grabbed her walking stick and eased herself gently off the bed, and hobbled over to Lupin's bed. With her free hand, she pulled part of the curtain back and asked, "Have you finished sulking yet?"

Lupin's response was uncharacteristically coarse. Persephone shrugged it off.

"Well, if you're going to get angry about this situation, you might as well get angry for the right reasons- be annoyed that Voldemort used you."

"Excuse me?" Lupin replied, in a cold voice that didn't appear to faze Persephone in the slightest.

"Voldemort, remember? Reptilian looking bloke, currently waging war on this Fair Isle?"

"Don't be facetious; just make your point."

"He gave you some sort of potion to force you to transform when the sun is blocked from view. My point is that what happened last night really wasn't your fault..."

"That isn't the issue!" Lupin yelled, and Harry felt himself jump from the sudden rise in volume. "I still did it, didn't I?"

"Yes," Persephone replied, wearily. "Yes, it looks as though you did. But nobody is condemning you," Persephone countered, evenly. Lupin pushed the curtain back completely, and Harry could see how pale and exhausted he looked.

"Well, apart from your tribe," Lupin replied, darkly, pushing his still damp hair out of his face. To Harry, it appeared even greyer than usual.

"They're just looking for somebody to blame," Persephone replied, leaning on her walking stick as though it were the only thing keeping her upright. Lupin shook his head, and leant back on his bed with a creak of the springs.

"Sit down, Beau," Sam pleaded, gesturing towards Persephone's bed. She reluctantly agreed, and hobbled back over to it.

Harry didn't know what to say. The situation was just too terrible. He couldn't exactly just march up to Lupin and tell him that it didn't matter, because it clearly did. He couldn't tell him that it would get better, because Harry didn't know if it ever would. In fact, Harry had no idea how Lupin must be feeling, because he had never killed anybody, intentionally or not. He did know that he would probably find out one day, and that was only if he was lucky enough to survive facing Voldemort a fifth time.

Suddenly, Snape marched into the Hospital Wing carrying a goblet that had wisps of smoke dancing within it. He looked at Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny with utmost contempt.

"Why are you always here?" he asked, in a tone that suggested to Harry that a reply would be the worst possible idea.

"Maybe it's just a conspiracy of space and time," Persephone commented. Snape looked at her, ignoring Lupin completely.

"How are you feeling?" he asked. Persephone shrugged.

"I'm on the mend," she replied, sharply. Snape sighed heavily.

"Good," he finished. "That's good to hear."

Persephone nodded, and the two watched each other with a mixture of appraisal and discomfort.

"I heard about that Eliminator," Persephone commented. Snape nodded, but made no reply.

"So, have you decided?" she asked. "I mean, are you staying, or are you going?"

"Staying," he replied. "Minerva and I discussed it together- it appeared to be the best option, all things considered."

Persephone nodded.

"Right," she replied, as Snape shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

Eventually, Snape turned to face Lupin, and his expression became a complete mask.

"Here," he said, thrusting the goblet into Lupin's hand. "You need to drink this at seven o'clock. I'll bring you up some more tomorrow."

Lupin sniffed the mixture suspiciously.

"Severus, this smells like Wolfsbane Potion," he commented, questioningly. Snape nodded, but didn't quite meet his eyes.

"That's because it is," he replied. Lupin looked up at him.

"Severus, what's going on?" he demanded. Snape met his glare with one of indifference.

"That potion you were forced to take, it induces transformation of one who suffers with lycanthropy whenever the sun is blocked from view- meaning every sunset. Until I, or the Brethren's toxicity department, can find an antidote to eradicate the potion's effects, you will transform at every sunset," he replied, calmly, before leaving the Hospital Wing as aggressively as he had entered.

Harry watched out of the corner of his eye as Hermione silently reached over and held Lupin's hand in her own. Lupin looked up at her and smiled weakly, but genuinely. Harry presumed that in a situation like this, there was nothing to say, and everything to do.

It was somewhat fortuitous that Hermione had insisted that they all bring their school bags to the Hospital Wing, for by the time they had left, they only had enough time to actually reach their classroom. Ginny had Potions, which she was dreading.

"I'm due for another detention," Ginny whispered to Harry on their way along the corridor. "I can just feel it. You know, I'm sure I saw Snape glare at Lupin when Hermione touched his hand. It's things like that which my imagination feeds on and results, ultimately, in my getting yet more detentions with Snape!"

Harry could understand her pain- he had no idea about how he was going to keep a straight face during his next Potions lesson; Jeremy and Szeto had, in a morbid way, rescued him from the last one. Worse still, he knew that Snape was rather skilled at Legilmency, as well as Occlumency. Secretly, he feared Snape might already know all about Hermione's indiscretion with his teenage self.

He, Ron and Hermione, however, had Transfiguration, which meant a lesson with a very agitated- and very pregnant- Alex Ridley. Harry couldn't blame her, really. Within a week she had almost lost one of her best spies, received news that her husband was being hunted down by Voldemort- despite the fact that Ron seemed to think it was probably for the best- and was still no closer to being able to halt Voldemort in his tracks. Judging from her slightly weary demeanour, the situation was starting to take its toll.

"When do the Easter Holidays start?" Ron whispered, once Alex had finished her introduction to the Deceptive uses of Transfiguration.

"Friday," Hermione commented, looking at her diary. Ron sighed.

"Thank Merlin for that; this feels like the longest week ever," he replied, with a groan. "I'll be glad of the break."

Hermione glared at him.

"Ron, what are you talking about?" she demanded. "We've got our N.E.W.T.s! Haven't you started revising yet?"

"Hermione," Ron replied wearily, "we've got two months to revise for eight exams- that's a week an exam! A fortnight if you count the fact that each subject has a theory and practical exam, which means that you can revise for both in one session- relax!"

"How did the D.A. meeting that you two don't want me to worry about go?" Harry asked, in an effort to change the subject. Hermione seemed to brighten at this.

"Good, it went really well. Neville was rather a good teacher, I must say," she replied, happily. Ron nodded.

"Yeah; he was very determined that everybody learnt how to perfect the Binding Hex, and the counter-curse," Ron added.

Alex began to make her rounds along the classroom, assessing and instructing each student as they attempted to create a decoy of their assigned animal and magnify its size, with varying success. Hermione, naturally, appeared to have mastered the concept with ease.

"You can tell me more during dinner," Harry said, as he began to make a more concentrated effort on his own sleepy looking guinea pig. Ron nodded.

"Good idea," he replied. "I don't want to wind Alex up at the best of times. Anyway- Hermione's probably better at explaining these things than I am."

Hermione looked a little uncomfortable.

"Well, it'll have to wait until later this evening, then," she said, quietly. Ron looked at her.

"Why?" he asked.

"Because I won't be eating with you two this evening," Hermione explained. Ron looked cautiously at her.

"Why not?" he asked. "You're not planning to sacrifice any mealtimes for revision again, are you? That just isn't good for you..."

Hermione sighed.

"I'm meeting Viktor," she explained, quietly. Ron looked staggered.

"I thought you two split up!" he exclaimed. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Yes, but we're still friends. He wants me to have dinner with him tonight," she replied, not meeting Ron's piercing glare.

"He'd better not be messing you about!" he said, in warning tones. Hermione shook her head.

"He isn't, Ron," she replied. "All he wants to do is have dinner with me, as friends, because to be honest, we both feel a little uncomfortable about the whole predicament and want to get used to it as swiftly as possible! Why do you just assume his intentions are anything but honourable?"

"Because... Because I'm your best mate, aren't I?" he explained, with an edge of impatience. "That's my job- I rubbish all your boyfriends because they'll never be good enough for you."

Hermione blushed a little at his remark, but her expression was still one of suspicion.

"If that's the case, why did you complain that Viktor only spent time with me to try and find out what Harry knew in the Triwizard Tournament? I imagine it must be very difficult for him to be unworthy of me, if that's the first thing you assume any boy would want me for," she commented, and to Harry it sounded like a question she had wanted to ask for a very long time.

Ron gawped at her.

"That was years ago!" he exclaimed. "I was just..."

"Just what?" Hermione asked.

Ron stared at his hedgehog- which he had successfully managed to magnify to twice its size on the other side of his desk- before replying, "I didn't mean it like that! I just thought, you know, that he was so much older..."

"A staggering four years," Hermione interrupted, sardonically.

"That he might have thought you would have been easy to manipulate... Not that I think you are easy to manipulate- bloody hell, as if anybody could manage that. I just think he might have been trying to, and as a friend, I couldn't just stand back and let that happen. Because you are my friend, Hermione, and friends don't let their friends get into awkward situations..."

A sudden loud tap of a wand against his desk stopped Ron mid-way through his rambling explanation.

"Mr. Weasley," Alex commented dryly, "your hedgehog is threatening to take over the entire front row, kindly fix it."

Ron hastily pulled out his wand upon seeing the magnification of his original hedgehog that was now nudging its way onto Susan Bones' desk and frightening her own mouse.

"Sorry, Professor," he said, sheepishly. Alex merely looked pointedly at him.

"Just be careful, Mr. Weasley," she said, as she leant over to examine Harry's own efforts. Considering he hadn't really been practising very hard, Harry thought his magnified guinea pig was a pretty convincing one. That didn't stop Alex from pointing out a dozen useful corrections, before she leant closer to his ear and whispered, "Go to the Headmistress' office straight after this lesson, Harry- we all need to have a chat, if you get my drift."

Harry got her drift, and surreptitiously passed the message onto Ron and Hermione.

"Oh, I'd better cancel my meeting with Viktor, then," Hermione commented. Ron shook his head.

"No- you go on. Me and Harry will fill you in on anything important," Ron said, and Harry could see he was all but gritting his teeth as he spoke. Hermione's eyes brightened for a moment.

"Really? You don't mind?" Hermione asked. Ron shook his head.

"Of course not," he replied, nonchalantly. "We'll make sure you don't miss out on anything."

Hermione smiled gratefully at him.

"Thanks, Ron," she said. "You're a good friend."

"Aren't I just?" Ron muttered under his breath, and not for the first time, Harry wondered what exactly was going on in Ron's head.

Not that Harry had much chance to dwell upon the inner workings of Ron's psyche, for the lesson soon ended, and he and Ron made their way to McGonagall's office, where the usual Order members were present. Mad Eye Moody and McGonagall were standing up near the fireplace, presumably awaiting latecomers. Kingsley Shacklebolt, Tonks and Hestia Jones were present, as was Emmeline Vance. Lupin was nowhere to be seen, and this didn't surprise Harry, given what Snape had said in the Hospital Wing; for the sun was already beginning to set. Alex was sitting down next to McGonagall's desk, with Snape at her side. Neither of them looked particularly happy, and Harry didn't feel up to attempting to guess which of their numerous problems could be causing their malaise. Augustine was perched elegantly on the side of McGonagall's desk, looking as neatly dressed as ever. The only people that were conspicuous by their absence were Arthur and Bill Weasley. Charlie, Fred and George hardly ever attended Order meetings, for they were too busy with their work.

"Sit down, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley," McGonagall offered, in a tone of voice that sounded more like an order. Harry and Ron looked at each other, and sat on the nearest chairs.

"No Miss Granger?" McGonagall enquired. Harry shook his head.

"She's busy," he said, not knowing whether he should tell McGonagall the truth or not. To his surprise, McGonagall merely smiled.

"Yes, Persephone did explain to me," she replied, whilst adjusting the glasses perched atop her nose.

"Speaking of which, where is she?" Tonks asked, looking impatiently at her watch.

"I think she's with Remus," Alex replied, darkly. "She and Ben are... assisting him, I believe."

Tonks nodded, solemnly.

"Do we know when this stuff will be out of his system?" she asked.

"It won't," Snape replied, curtly. "Until we can produce an antidote, he's stuck with the situation."

"Right," Tonks replied calmly, although her expression was one of horror. Harry understood her concern, for he felt exactly the same way.

The door to McGonagall's office flung open, and in shuffled Hagrid, who was swiftly followed by a small yapping dog that was apparently intent on trying to leap over his large feet whilst he was still walking.

"Gerrout of it, Frank," Hagrid chuckled. "We can all see yer better."

Harry couldn't help but smile as the small half-Crup bounded his was up to Harry's legs, and struggled to jump onto his lap. Harry lifted him up and allowed Frank to lay his head on his lap, stroking his short fur all the while. Clearly Hagrid had worked his own kind of magic on the little dog; who had been unable to walk last time Harry had seen him.

"How are yer, Harry; Ron?" Hagrid asked. "Looking forward ter yer holidays?"

"Not bloody likely," Ron grumbled. "We've got our N.E.W.T.s coming up, and Hermione's not about to let us forget, either."

Hagrid looked around.

"Here," he commented. "Where is Hermione?"

"She's with Viktor," Harry pointed out. Hagrid looked at Ron, and nodded sympathetically.

"Never mind, Ron," he soothed. "There's plenty more fish in the sea, so they say."

Ron looked across at Harry, presumably for an explanation that Harry couldn't offer, for he was as bewildered as Ron was.

"What do you mean, Hagrid?" Ron asked, at which Hagrid looked mortified for a moment. He blushed a deep red beneath his bushy beard, and waved his palm in dismissal.

"Oh, nothin', Ron. Never mind- it's not importan'," he replied, quickly, before finding somewhere else to stand, presumably so that he couldn't say anything else out of line to Harry or Ron.

Ron looked at Harry.

"What does he mean, 'Plenty more fish in the sea'? What do I care whether Hermione has dinner with Krum or not?" he demanded, although Harry thought it somewhat incongruous with everything he had ever said to Hermione about Krum's intentions.

"I don't know," Harry replied, truthfully.

At that moment, the door to the office flung open again, and in walked Benjamin Sampson, who held the door open for Persephone. She wheeled herself into the office and remained somewhere near the fireplace. Sam shut the door and sighed heavily.

"How close are we to finding an antidote?" he asked. "Because I really don't know how much more of this The Loup can take."

Persephone nodded in agreement.

"He looked terrible when he transformed- kept wittering on about folklore and candy floss beforehand, for some bizarre reason," she added. Sam looked at her.

"I know what it's like to change- there's no way he can handle going through that every night- it'll kill him if we don't do something soon..."

"What, precisely, do you think I've been doing all day- twiddling my thumbs and idly staring at a few essays?" Snape spat, sarcastically. Persephone sighed in vexation.

"He's not attacking you, Severus," she remarked, coldly. "He's just stating a fact- time is of the essence."

"I'm doing my best," he snapped back. Persephone glared at him, and nobody else appeared to want to join in the brewing argument.

"Right; what's on the agenda for today, then?" Alex asked, clapping her hands together in a gesture for attention, and it was this that prevented Persephone and Snape from continuing their little spat.

"Well, I think the biggie is The Loup's predicament," Sam pointed out, before anybody else managed to get a word in edgeways. Alex nodded.

"That is definitely an issue, Ben," she said, calmly. "However, we ought to concentrate more on the bigger picture. This turn of events concerning Remus links in rather neatly with this prophecy, wouldn't you say?"

Sam nodded, and paced along the room for a moment, before crouching down near Persephone.

"If this potion is administered to any werewolves on Voldemort's side- and even those who are not- an absence of the sun will cause them to transform. Once that eclipse hits, they'll be bloodthirsty killers with a one-track mind..."

"I'm not sure, given the recent political climate, you can really say those things about werewolves, Ben," Moody commented, gruffly, though there was a twinkle in his normal eye that seemed to invite the rather brash retort Sam offered.

"I know what I'm capable of- or rather, I've been told what I'm capable of," he added. Moody smiled, and his weathered face crinkled into life as he did so.

"I like your way of plain talking, Sampson," he replied. Sam shrugged.

"I'm more concerned with stopping whatever Voldemort's planned," he added.

"So, you think Voldemort is planning to attack Hogwarts on the fifteenth of June during a total eclipse, and he is going to acquire an army of werewolves?" McGonagall enquired, with a calm expression that was out of place with the slight quiver in her voice. Everybody turned to look at her.

"Excuse me, Professor?" Kingsley asked, his eyebrows having lifted a good inch in height. McGonagall coughed quietly.

"This is what Persephone seems to believe," she added. Persephone nodded.

"Let's just say I've been doing a bit of research," she replied, nonchalantly. "You've got to admit, it fits; the ravished sun, the attacking of the innocents..."

Tonks narrowed her eyes at Persephone.

"I thought you didn't like pinning all our plans on a vague prophecy?" she challenged. Persephone shrugged.

"I didn't particularly like having my body and mind beaten to a bloody pulp by Voldemort," she countered, "so I'll work with whatever we've got to try and prevent it happening again."

Tonks raised her palms in surrender.

"I didn't mean to bring your attack into it. I'm sorry..."

"Don't be," Persephone interrupted. "Besides, I wasn't entirely slacking when Voldemort was trying to interrogate me. I kept my ears open, and I think we have good cause to pin our plans on this prophecy. Anyway," she added, "It's not like it had anything to do with you..."

Harry thought he saw Persephone glance at Snape for a moment, but Tonks distracted him before he could see if Snape reacted at all.

"So, if the school's in such danger, you're going to want to close it, right?" she asked, looking at McGonagall, who seemed to be considering her options.

"Or possibly evacuate nearer the time," she countered, unnecessarily adjusting her glasses as she spoke. "If we send all the children home in one go, it will be sure to arouse suspicion."

"We could keep them at 'ome after teh Easter holidays," Hagrid suggested. "It'd be a normal thing, sendin' them 'ome on Friday. By teh time they're due back, it'd be ter late for Voldemort ter do anything about it. 'E could attack the school all 'e wants; there'd be nobody abou' fer 'im ter attack!"

McGonagall seemed to like this idea, for she tapped her quill against her lips and nodded enthusiastically.

"That would most likely work, Rubeus," she pointed out. "In fact, Voldemort might not even realise they haven't come back... Except he's bound to have access to this kind of information."

"Lucius Malfoy, for one," Snape commented. "Considering he's supposed to be on the Ministry's hit-list, Draco seems to have succeeded in sharing a lot of correspondence with him."

Suddenly, Persephone replied with what Harry thought was one of the most ludicrous things he had ever heard.

"Who says we should evacuate?" she asked. "Why not call his bluff?"

Every single pair of eyes swivelled in Persephone's direction, and Harry soon realised he wasn't the only one who thought Persephone had gone quite mad.

"Have you gone insane?" Snape bellowed, in a voice that was at least half a tone higher than usual. Persephone shrugged.

"We'll be prepared; he won't know that. I'll admit it's a little risky..."

"A little risky?" Hagrid retorted, indignantly. "There's no way we could protect all them students, no matter 'ow many Aurors we got in. We'd be lucky ter any kids left ter teach!"

Persephone sighed.

"That's a good point," she admitted, quietly. Sam nudged her.

"Here, don't feel too bad," he soothed. "Considering how addled your brain could have been from your encounter with Voldemort, that was a pretty sensible suggestion."

"But don't go getting all cocky, just because you were lucky enough to escape him once," Moody pointed out. "The Potters escaped him three times; the Longbottoms too. Young Potter here has escaped him five times, and that's no indication that he'll do it again."

"Yeah, thanks, Mad-Eye; I feel so much better now," Harry retorted, unable to keep quiet about his growing unease over the off-hand manner in which Moody seemed to treat all casualties of the war.

"Sorry, Potter," Moody replied, both his magical and normal eyes fixed upon Harry. "Didn't mean to upset you; but this isn't some classroom practical! Voldemort's dangerous enough, without the armies he's gained."

Alex nodded in agreement.

"He's a man of singular vision- and don't forget it," she pointed out, sternly. Persephone and Sam sniggered.

"Well, he is now," Sam commented. "Beau pecked his left eye out, didn't she?"

Suddenly, Harry understood exactly what Persephone had meant when she said, "How do you think I escaped Voldemort?"

Alex glared at Sam.

"A loss of an eye most certainly has no effect on the faculties- I lost both of mine, and I've never seen more clearly now," Alex rebutted, coolly. Sam shifted in his chair.

"Just trying to lighten the atmosphere," he grumbled, at which Alex leant forward to stare at him.

"Well, don't," she ordered, and Sam obeyed. "We've got a serious situation on our hands. If Voldemort is going to attack us during the next solar eclipse, then this potion is going to unleash a whole army of werewolves upon the populace- I can't think of anything more dangerous... Except perhaps an army of vampires hell-bent on gaining lost ground!"

Augustine, who was leaning against the fireplace, coughed quietly.

"That might not be as much of an issue as we first thought, Alex," he commented.

"How come?" McGonagall asked. Augustine smiled grimly, and turned to face her.

"Why, because of the Snapes," he explained. "At least three of their offshoot tribes were servants of some of the most ferocious and powerful Elder vampires- the ones which sired many of today's current vampires. Voldemort has slaughtered these specific tribespeople, and I've heard from a few..." he appeared to choose his words carefully- "acquaintances, that they are not exactly pleased with Voldemort's plans. They will not join him, and neither will their kith and kin- blood will out, after all."

"Well, I suppose every cloud has its silver lining," Persephone commented, dryly. "The increasing death toll of our tribe isn't entirely to Voldemort's benefit, then."

"Persephone." Snape's voice was dangerously low. She glared back defiantly at him, but said nothing.

"How is Remus coping?" Kingsley asked, pointedly, and Harry could tell he was enquiring about his mental- as opposed to his physical- state. McGonagall sighed and rubbed her temples with her fingers.

"If you are referring to his presumed... altercation with Angela Snape; then he really isn't coping very well at all," she replied. Kingsley nodded solemnly.

"Oh, Gus- did Connie get those photographs I took of the injuries?" Persephone asked, suddenly. Augustine nodded.

"Yes, she did- and she's been grumbling about your photography skills ever since," he replied. Persephone appeared squeamish for a moment.

"Tell her I'm sorry, and I did my best," she replied. Sam smiled kindly.

"I'm sure Connie understands perfectly the situation you're in," he soothed.

"Connie? Who's Connie?" Moody asked, in his usual gruff voice.

"She's an expert when it comes to identifying magical- and mundane- injuries. I wanted her to double-check that Remus had been involved, and if we needed to take any action if he was," Persephone explained.

"Action?" Hestia Jones asked. Snape looked up at her.

"If Lupin has killed an innocent, it might require certain magics to ensure that he remains... human, so to speak," he explained. Harry felt his stomach lurch at this remark.

"Human?" he demanded. "Human! Remus is human! What are you taking about?"

"Calm down, Harry," Ron said, tugging at Harry's sleeve. Harry obeyed, only realising with the benefit of hindsight how loudly he had spoken.

"In case it has escaped your attention, Potter, Lupin is not entirely human...."

"Severus, allow me," Persephone interrupted, through gritted teeth. "Harry, what Severus is trying to say is that sometimes, circumstances can impede people. You know about the consequences of slaying a Unicorn, right?"

"Yeah- it makes you unclean, and drinking their blood to survive will give you a cursed life," Harry replied. "What are you getting at?"

"Well, if a werewolf slays an innocent, similar things can happen," she said, awkwardly, "but don't worry! We can put a stop to it, if we know precisely what he has- or hasn't- done. Ritual spells and the like, nothing to worry about- Severus and I have been taught these sorts of things as soon as we could hold a wand."

Moody looked singularly unimpressed.

"I wouldn't go shouting that from the rooftops, Persephone. The fact that you have both been taught Dark magics from a young age is just the sort of thing that might get you killed. We are at war, after all," he warned. Persephone shrugged.

"Hey, in a tribe, priorities are different," she retorted. "When you live outside the laws of the land, you have to protect yourself. In our case, the old customs have lived on."

Alex pursed her lips and looked close to exploding in fury.

"Can we get back to the issue in hand, please?" she asked, in a voice so calm, it unsettled Harry. One look at Ron suggested he felt the same.

"Certainly, Alexandra," Moody said. "I'm sorry to have voiced my opinion," he added, somewhat sharply. Alex glared at him, but said no more on the subject. Instead, she looked around at the congregation with her cold electric-blue eyes, and asked, "What news have we on the Ministry? Any changes to the facilities at Azkaban?"

"Well, the Dementors have gone, unsurprisingly," Kingsley explained. "We've employed a garrison of Security Trolls for the meantime, with a few Aurors patrolling when we have them spare- obviously, we can't afford to put too many there, given the Death Eater attacks we have to counter. There are some new wards around the peripheral area, too. Arthur and Bill are checking the new measures as we speak."

Alex nodded.

"Good," she replied. "What say you on the Death Eater front? Has it been particularly active?"

"Not really," Kingsley replied. "It's been quiet for a few months, save what we've already seen. Our belief is that Voldemort is concentrating on bolstering his armies of Dark creatures. Our sources tell us he's preparing for something big."

"Ours too," Sam added.

"Which once again leads us to Hogwarts," McGonagall sighed. "We can't leave the school open- we've got to send all the children home over Easter."

"If we do that, it is entirely possible that Voldemort will send his forces after each family- as much as we try to protect such information as the location of each child and their family, it won't be difficult for Voldemort to find out- we've managed to flush a few of his spies out of the Ministry, but I doubt we've found them all," Emmeline pointed out.

"So, basically, we're stuck," Alex stated, as she began to pace around the room, occasionally clutching her large, round stomach protectively.

"Not necessarily," Persephone said, and everybody looked at her with a mixture of suspicion and concern.

"Oh, not again, Persephone!" Moody replied, in a weary voice. "Just take it easy- you're not exactly fit as a fiddle, are you?"

"My faculties are intact, Alastor," she retorted. "I still say we should call Voldemort's bluff, and trick him. The fact of the matter is, we know something he doesn't think we know. The sooner we take action that shows this- such as evacuating the school- the sooner we'll lose that advantage..."

"But we cannot, and will not, do anything that puts the students of this school at risk!" McGonagall shouted, and Harry saw her lips turn thin and pale. The rest of the congregation jumped to attention. Persephone struggled to stand up, and had to lean on Sam for support.

"I'm not suggesting leaving them here to be slaughtered!" she retorted. "I've seen enough deaths to last me a lifetime, thank you very much! But there must be something we can do, some way of fooling him... This is an old castle, right?"

"Well, yeh; bin 'ere for a thousand year, or thereabouts," Hagrid replied, looking as bewildered as everyone else in the room. Persephone nodded.

"Then there must be some secret passages knocking about- Durmstrang was full of them, and I bet Karkaroff didn't know about half of them..."

"If yer want to know abou' secret passages, you'd be best off asking Remus Lupin," Hagrid replied. "Him an' his friends knew more than anyone I've known 'ere."

Persephone hissed through her teeth.

"If Pettigrew knows them, I'd be reluctant to use them," she pointed out. "We need a passageway that nobody knows about, or is difficult to access..."

"Might I butt in for a moment, Persephone, and enquire just exactly why you're interested in the secret workings of Hogwarts?" Snape asked.

"Why do you think?" she retorted. "If we can find, or create, a decent, well-protected pathway to Hogsmeade, or somewhere else, then we can get all the students safely away from Hogwarts if Voldemort does decide to attack!"

This explanation was greeted by silence. Soon enough, murmurs began to float across the room as people whispered amongst themselves. From what Harry could hear, many of the congregation seemed to be of the opinion that Persephone had finally cracked; that the strain of the constant losses and her encounter with Voldemort had damaged her brain somehow.

"That's ludicrous!" Emmeline blustered, suddenly.

"Persephone, maybe you should take some time off?" Hestia Jones suggested, kindly.

"Of all the things I've heard, this has to be the most audacious- and the most ridiculous," Kingsley warned.

"I like it," Moody said, to Harry's amazement.

"Me too," McGonagall replied. "Providing you think we can do this justice, Persephone, I'd be willing to hear a more detailed plan."

Persephone nodded.

"I think so," she said. "I'll work on it. Some of the guys down in Architectural Development would be able to help us, and if we managed to get Jack out of hiding..."

"No way," Alex interrupted, suddenly. "Not Jack. He's retired for a reason."

"But you often say he's the best Curse-Maker alive; there are crypts knocking around in Prague that not even the Ministry's finest Curse-Breakers have come out of unscathed!"

"That's not the issue," Alex replied, tartly. "You don't know Jack- I do. He wouldn't thank us for getting him involved again. He lost far too much the first time around."

Persephone remained silent, but it looked to Harry as though she had conceded.

"Right," Alex continued. "So, Minerva, you'd like Persephone to work on her initial ideas concerning Hogwarts?"

"That is correct," McGonagall replied.

"Fine- Percy, if you could start working on that..."

"I'm there," Persephone replied.

"Severus, would you appreciate a little extra help concerning Lupin's treatment?"

"I work better alone..." Snape began to explain, but he caught Alex's eye, and dropped his protestations. "That would no doubt be helpful in some way."

"Right," Alex replied, not quite looking at him. "I'll cover your lessons for the next two days- it's the least I can do. That way you can work more efficiently..."

However, Harry had noticed that Snape was looking at Alex with a most querulous expression on his face.

"You're sending me Faith, aren't you?" he asked, but his tone made it sound more like a statement. Alex smiled sheepishly.

"Not alone! You'll have a couple of our toxicology experts on hand, too- believe me, Faith will be really helpful. She's good at things like this..."

"She tortured me!" Snape spat, suddenly. Alex sighed, as though Snape was being unreasonable in reacting badly to the news that he was to spend however long it took to cure Lupin stuck with somebody that often talked about how she wanted him dead.

"That was last year- she's warmed to you now, what with Persephone and everything. Besides, Voldemort's marked you- she won't want to hurt you now he's planning to," she soothed. Snape rolled his eyes.

"Great- I feel so much better knowing that," he replied, testily.

"But you agree?"

"Yes, I agree," he sighed.

"Good. Kingsley, do you need anything for the Ministry?" Alex asked.

"A few extra guards for Azkaban wouldn't go amiss," he replied, thoughtfully. Alex nodded.

"I'll see what we can do- I'm sure we can spare a few. Plus, we do have a number of holding cells, if you require them."

Kingsley nodded. Alex looked around the room once more.

"Anything else before we adjourn?"

Suddenly, Harry was reminded of what he had wanted to ask Persephone before Voldemort had lured them away from Hogwarts... to think, it had only been a few days ago!

"Oh, Persephone? I was wondering if you could check a letter for me," he said. Persephone looked at him with interest.

"Who was it from?" she asked.

"My cousin, Dudley. Or at least, I think it was. I just thought I should check before I replied, just in case it was a trap."

"Good thinking- when did you get it?"

"Oh, at Christmas..."

"Christmas? Merlin, you're worse at replying to letters than I am!" Persephone laughed. Harry wanted to tell her about how conflicted he felt- whether he really wanted to open up any lines of communications with his cousin, given the grief he had caused ever since Harry was placed on the Dursley's doorstep. However, he was reluctant to share his thoughts to the whole of the Order.

"Well, give it here, then," Persephone said, gesturing for Harry to hand her the letter. Harry felt embarrassed for a moment.

"Oh, I don't have it on me at the moment..."

"Well, bring it up to me later- you know where I'm currently being imprisoned," she joked.

Almost instantly, the meeting ended, and the various members of the Order and the Brethren that did not belong at Hogwarts were Flooing out of McGonagall's office. Harry and Ron were about to leave, but Persephone stopped them.

"Oh, guys, could you get Hermione to bring me that translation stone she came up with to study her book?" she asked. Ron nodded.

"Sure- but I think she might be a little miffed if you're planning on going through that book without her," he replied. Persephone shrugged.

"She's welcome to stay- I'll only be in the Hospital Wing. It's not like I'm allowed to go anywhere else without constant supervision," she explained, in a tone that suggested she couldn't wait to be discharged from Madam Pomfrey's expert care.

* * *

"I've been chatting to Susan and Ernie- they were really pleased with Neville's teaching yesterday," Hermione explained, animatedly, as they made their way to the Hospital Wing for the second time that day. "Viktor thinks it a brilliant idea too..."

"Have you two got back together, or something?" Ron asked, sounding somewhat irritated. "You've been really happy since we found you in the common room."

Hermione laughed.

"Oh, no, Ron, not at all. I just had a nice time this evening, that's all. He's been really enthusiastic about our plans..."

"And exactly how many of our plans have you told him about?" Ron demanded. Hermione glared at Ron.

"I didn't tell him everything; all I said is that we wanted to arm the students with extra self-defence skills, in case anything happened. He thought it was a good idea- as he said, the teachers can't be everywhere, can they?" she reasoned. Ron shrugged.

"Well, if Vicky says it's a good idea, then it must be, mustn't it?" he commented, sharply. Hermione looked beyond furious.

"Why do you always have to have a go at him?" she asked, in a voice torn between fury and weariness. Ron looked about to reply, but Madam Pomfrey was standing at the entrance of the Hospital Wing with a most stern expression on her face.

"Keep quiet; Remus needs to sleep he best he can," she ordered. Harry, Ron and Hermione nodded meekly, before creeping into the Hospital Wing. They passed Lupin's bed, only to see the curtain had been drawn right around. A neatly folded pile of clothes sat on the bedside table, and a pair of shoes were peeking out from underneath the foot of the bed- Harry wondered for a moment whether Madam Pomfrey had decided to tidy up for Lupin, or whether Lupin, accepting the inevitable that the sunset had brought, had done it himself beforehand in preparation.

"Over here," Persephone whispered, and gestured for them to come over. She was resting a large, old book on her lap, and Harry knew from the patterns etched into the leather binding that it was the book Hermione had received from Snape back in 1977.

"Hi," Harry whispered. "I brought you that letter to have a look at." Persephone gestured for him to hand it over, so Harry placed the now crumpled up letter he had received from Dudley over Christmas. She pulled out a pince-nez from the drawer of her bedside table and began to examine the note.

"Hmm, looks genuine enough... oh, here's a frank mark- it went through Muggle Post. I'm guessing your cousin tried to send it to you that way and it found its way into a Wizarding Post Office. I don't suppose you've got any handwriting samples of..." She squinted at the bottom of the letter. "Pidley?"

"Dudley," Harry corrected. Realisation dawned upon Persephone's features.

"Oh yeah, I see it now- that's a D."

"No, I don't," Harry replied. "This is the first time he's ever written to me- in fact, I wasn't entirely sure he could write until I got this."

Persephone laughed, and began to run her fingers along the edges of the paper.

"Feels like standard Muggle writing paper. The ink's from a biro- no way would you find one of those in a Wizarding stationary shop... Tell you what, Harry- if you write Dudley a letter, I'll get it sent to a Muggle Post Office- that way it can't be tracked to you, nor will it arouse suspicion at your cousin's place," she suggested.

"Okay, that sound's like a good idea," Harry replied. Persephone nodded, before noticing that Hermione was holding a glimmering crystal in her right hand. She grinned.

"Excellent- you remembered to ask her! You don't mind me borrowing that, do you, Hermione?"

Hermione shook her head.

"Not at all- but I hope you'll let me know if you find out anything interesting," she replied, eagerly, as Persephone began to use the crystal to read the contents page of the book.

"Why don't you just use the Brethren's translation equipment?" Ron asked. Persephone closed the book and rested the crystal atop it.

"Because, Ron, they're too complex," she replied. "The translation team are trained to pick up subtle nuances in language. I just wanted to get a brief idea of..." She trailed off as she glanced down at the book. Harry watched as her eyes widened to the size of silver sickles.

"What's the matter?" he asked. Persephone replied with a hushed curse.

"I don't believe this," she continued, in that same hushed tone of voice. "All this time... and I've let you merrily sit around with this in your hands, Hermione!"

"What?" Hermione asked. "Why's that a problem? I'm perfectly capable of reading..."

She too trailed off when Persephone held the book in front of them, and slowly ran the crystal across the title of the book. Harry couldn't believe his eyes. The crystal spelt out the words 'The Original Cross'.

"This is what Voldemort has spent the past twenty-odd years searching for!" Persephone whispered. Ron looked astounded.

"But it belongs to your tribe! Why didn't you know?" he asked. Persephone glanced up at him.

"We don't know it by that name. In fact, our translation team came up with a title similar to the one the tribe know it as. However, clearly a simple, literal translation- the type Voldemort, or indeed, any Gaje who would have known about this book would have come up with- is 'The Original Cross'," she explained.

Harry was stunned. All the time and energy Voldemort had put into looking for the Original Cross, and it was right under their noses. One of his Death Eaters had once had it in his possession!

"But, why did Voldemort presume Alex knew about it from her pendant?" Harry asked, remembering that pensieve reproduction he had witnessed last year. Persephone's eyes scanned the book, and she pointed at something on the spine.

"Possibly because of this," she replied, pointing to a symbol similar to the one that Hagrid had made for Harry as a Christmas present.

"An Ankh?" Harry asked. Persephone smiled.

"Otherwise known as the Original Cross. That would at least explain why Severus had no clue as to what Voldemort was after- he'd only know it by the name I do. I've never even heard of it being called 'The Original Cross'. But it makes sense," she added.

"What use would this book be to Voldemort, though?" Ron asked, peering at the rough, leathery cover. Persephone smirked.

"Well, it could be anything, given the general content. Tribal spells, potions and such artefacts are usually steeped in Dark magic and... shall we say ethically dubious, origins. When they were in wide use, it would have been thousands of years ago, and nobody had much of a problem with it then- apart from the Muggles, of course. Nowadays, the amount of restrictions and the progression of society as a whole has meant much of this magic is no longer used- I seriously doubt the Ministry would look favourably upon a spell that used, say..." Persephone flicked through the book for a moment, before placing the translation crystal on a random page. "'The blood of a young virgin', or 'the hand of a newborn babe'. Progress, you see- it means you become more enlightened and look down on things that may infringe somebody else's civil liberties, such as maiming them. As a consequence, as well as the fact one can now walk freely down the street and not expect to be bled or dismembered for a enchantment, most of the old tribal spells have vanished from common knowledge. Seeing as tribes only share their secrets through word of mouth, hardly anybody knows of these spells, much less how to perform them. The Snapes are the only tribe who ever committed their secrets to paper...."

"So, if Voldemort got his hands on this book, he'd have the knowledge of these Dark magic spells, and could use them to his advantage," Hermione stated, solemnly. Persephone nodded grimly.

"Exactly," she replied, "and seeing as this particular volume has spells concerning cheating death, as well as maximising it in your enemies, it quickly becomes apparent why he has been searching for it for the last twenty years. We're lucky Snape liked you enough to give it you as a present, Hermione."

Hermione looked at the floor and nodded, but Ron seemed suddenly suspicious. He glanced at Hermione with narrowed eyes, and asked, "He gave it to you as a present? You always claimed it was because he wanted to get rid of the book!"

"Well, he did," Hermione protested. "It isn't strictly legal to have access to such spells in the UK, and Durmstrang is situated in an area where such regulations are a little more lax..."

"But it was a present?" Ron persisted. Hermione sighed.

"Yes, it was, of a fashion," she replied. Ron folded his arms.

"So, what exactly did happen, then?" he asked, sharply. "From what you both told me, Faith took you back to 1977, and Persephone got you to track Snape, so that Faith didn't get a chance to kill him."

"That's right," Harry replied, but Ron didn't seem very interested, for his attention was still fixed firmly on Hermione.

"So, he was so grateful to you for saving his hide, that he gave you this book, right?" he queried, in a sarcastic sounding voice. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Of course not, Ron- you know he has no idea of what happened..."

"So, why did he decide to give you a book, then?" Ron demanded. "Did you dazzle him with your extensive knowledge of N.E.W.T. level Potions? Maybe you got him interested in S.P.E.W? We'll have to ask him, won't we? Well, maybe if he wasn't such a git..."

"Easy!" Persephone interrupted, but neither Hermione nor Ron appeared to have heard her. Hermione was quick to respond; her face was flushed with anger and she looked ready to rip Ron's throat out with her bare hands.

"Oh, of course, because that's all I ever do, isn't it?" she spat. "Is it any wonder I like to spend time with Viktor, Ron? At least he doesn't spend every moment he can belittling me!"

"Belittling you?" Ron looked astounded. "I've always- always- thought you were the smartest girl in our school, and I'm certain you're the only girl I know with the guts to stand up for your beliefs- mad as some of them are- and yet you reckon I spend my time belittling you? What planet are you on, Hermione?"

"Well, you've got a funny way of showing it," she retorted. Ron glared at her.

"Short of waving a huge banner every time I'm near you, what else can I do? I've only been your friend for the last six years..."

"Well, if that's the case- why did you think up every cynical reason for Viktor to spend any time with me during our fourth year, hmm?" Hermione asked, folding her arms and furiously awaiting a reply. Ron looked about ready to explode.

"Oh, not this again," he groaned, dragging his hands through his hair. "I was concerned!"

"He just wanted to find out what Harry was up to during the tournament, you said," she fumed. "Of course, there couldn't be a single chance that he just liked me, could there? Oh no, that'd be ridiculous- what boy would possibly want to spend time with me unless they had an ulterior motive?"

"Hermione, you're twisting my words," Ron retorted, angrily. Except Hermione hadn't finished. Not by a long shot.

"Fine," she hissed, pointing her index finger at Ron's chest. "Fine. You want to know what happened between me and Snape? Fine!"

"Oh no," Harry cringed, only to realise that Persephone was doing the same thing.

"Don't," Persephone whispered, as she shook her head slowly.

"We kissed," Hermione announced, and Ron looked both puzzled and horrified, as though he had just seen a very heavy man ride a very small elephant through the Hospital Wing. Hermione, on the other hand, looked defiant.

"We kissed behind the greenhouses," she reiterated. "Are you happy now? Maybe now you've even got an adequate explanation as to why I do well in Potions?"

Ron shook his head in bewilderment.

"You kissed Snape?" he asked, "You actually kissed Snape?"

Hermione nodded, although her fierce anger had been replaced by embarrassment. She was looking straight at the floor, and bit her lower lip nervously. Ron looked beyond furious.

"I'll kill him," he said, in a low voice. "I'll kill the slimy..."

"Well, seeing as he doesn't know, that wouldn't do much good, now, would it?" Persephone pointed out. Ron looked at her.

"How can he not know?" he asked. "He teaches Hermione three times a week!"

"He doesn't know there's any possible way to travel that far back in time," Persephone explained, quietly. "Given that, why would he ever assume that the girl he met in 1977 and the girl he has taught for the past six and a half years is the same person?"

"I see your point," Ron replied, before glaring back at Hermione. "That doesn't excuse you, though! What were you thinking?" he yelled.

"Keep your voice down!" Persephone hissed. Hermione looked liable to either burst out crying, or punch Ron square in the face.

"What's it to you?" she retorted, angrily. "It's none of your business! Why should you care if some other guy finds me attractive? In fact, I'm amazed you're not coming up with some other reason as to why he might have wanted to get so close to me. Well, what do you think, Ron? Maybe he thought he'd try and read my mind to see what I was up to? Not happy with that one? How about this- perhaps he decided the best way to find out how much Dark magic I knew, was through my lips? Let's face it, the concept of him kissing me because he actually fancied me is preposterous, right?"

In all the years Harry had known Hermione, never had he seen her quite this angry. Her hands were shaking with rage. Mind you, Ron was looking pretty close to exploding, himself.

"You kissed Snape," he said, in a tense, cold voice. Hermione glared at him.

"You're avoiding the issue!" she replied, hotly.

"What issue? The fact that you spent last year chasing after Slytherins?" he retorted. "I suppose you're going to tell me you were messing about with Malfoy, as well."

Hermione said nothing, and this appeared to incriminate her further.

"Are you telling me you kissed Malfoy?" Ron asked, incredulously. Hermione stared at the floor again.

"Well, he kissed me once," she replied, quietly.

"What's the bloody difference?" Ron challenged, indignantly. Hermione looked at him.

"There's a world of difference!" she spat back. "I was in no way a willing participant in that one!"

"It doesn't change the fact that you willingly kissed Snape, though," Ron retorted, somewhat mulishly.

"What does it matter?" Hermione asked, with an exaggerated groan of irritation. "It was twenty years ago- it doesn't mean anything!"

Ron laughed hollowly.

"Of course. It doesn't mean anything. It doesn't mean a bloody thing, except that you'd rather spend your time kissing Snape, of all people, than me!" he finished, hotly.

Harry and Hermione stared at him as though he had just gone mad. Ron gulped, and turned an odd shade of red.

"And I didn't just say that!" he continued, in the same indignant tone of voice. "Bye!" With those words, Ron stormed out of the room.

Hermione was flabbergasted.

"I... I... What?" she stammered, looking across at Harry, then at Persephone, then at Lupin's bed. Harry noticed her eyes began to glisten with tears, but before he could say anything, she too had bolted from the Hospital Wing. Not knowing what to do, Harry looked across at Persephone for comfort. She merely sighed heavily.

"Damn it! One more day, and I'd have been Galleons in!" she commented, sadly.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, but at that point, Snape had stalked into the Hospital Wing, and was looking behind him at the door he had just walked through with an expression of perturbation etched across his features.

"What just happened?" he asked Persephone, in a low voice, jerking his thumb towards the door. Persephone shrugged.

"We just lost five Galleons to Filius Flitwick, that's what just happened," she replied. Snape rolled his eyes.

"You're joking," he replied. Persephone shook her head.

"How do you think I feel?" she asked. "I was only one day too late!"

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked, and it was this that made Snape realise he was present.

"Don't you have essays to do, Potter?" he sneered. Persephone pulled a face at him, before turning to Harry once again.

"It's part of the annual Staff Room wagers," she replied. "At the start of every school year, we take a bunch of bets. One of which, for the past couple of years, has been when Ron's going to finally stop repressing his feelings about Hermione. Professor Flitwick won- he picked today."

Harry stared at her, slack jawed.

"You teachers don't have anything better to do than to open books on the feelings of pupils?" he asked, indignantly. Persephone smiled weakly.

"Well, not really, no," she replied. "We're teachers. The answer's in the question."

Harry shook his head.

"That's appalling," he chastised. Snape, who had since sat down at the edge of Persephone's bed, arched a single eyebrow at him.

"Coming from the boy whom I confiscated a book from containing odds on which of the professors murdered Professor Dumbledore, I find your attitude somewhat hypocritical," he commented, sharply.

"Fair point," Harry replied, before he had even realised he had made any comment. Snape looked at him, but said nothing in return, which surprised Harry- he had been expecting Snape to try and dock House points from him, or something; but he didn't expect him to let the incident pass without further comment.

"Here, Harry- you'd better see if Ron and Hermione are okay," Persephone said, pointedly, and Harry didn't need telling twice.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he replied. "Good night."

Persephone smiled.

"Good night," she said, before turning her attention to Snape; her arms folded around her knees in a slightly defensive manner. Snape was looking steadfastly at her knees, wrapped up in the bed sheets, and it was then that Harry turned away, feeling once again completely out of his depth.

Just before he exited the hospital Wing, he heard Snape comment, "Every year since 1993, I've been bombarded with Weasley's bizarre daydreams about Miss Granger when he should be concentrating on his practical work; and every year since 1993, I've gone for November. He's lost me a lot of money, that boy."