Harry Potter and the Return to the Riddle House

Chapter Twelve

Ray-cha

For the next week or so, Harry was floating on air. Classes were okay, he and Rachel shared a secret, shy smile whenever they met, and Ron and Hermione even seemed bicker less. As if to top it off, Ravenclaw beat Hufflepuff spectacularly in their Quidditch match Wednesday, so they were playing Gryffindor next. That was handy, as they had been training particularly hard against Ravenclaw tactics.

His last class that week was Care of Magical Creatures. They were studying Pogrebins, and Harry stayed behind to help Hagrid put the example back in its cage. Then he strolled back to the castle along the edge of the forest, thinking about Quidditch practice that evening and what plays they ought to practice for the match, when he met up with Rachel, who was gazing into the forest with a rapt, somewhat concerned expression.

"What's up?" Harry asked her. She held up her hand to silence him.

"Do you hear that?" she whispered.

Harry strained to listen; he heard birds squawking, leaves rustling, and then, in the distance, a shout. Then, after a few seconds, another one.

"Did that sound like Hagrid?" she turned to him anxiously. It did indeed. Harry wondered if something was wrong with his... little brother. He had seen him five minutes ago, walking deeper into the forest. He remembered how beat-up Hagrid had been last year, and was immediately worried.

"Well... he might be--" the rest of Harry's sentence was drowned out by a distant rumble, like thunder, and another yell. Without hesitation, Harry and Rachel ran into the forest at the same instant, pulling their wands out. They stumbled over roots and were whipped by branches, and within a few seconds, they were in a small clearing. Hagrid was standing in the middle of it, he turned to them as they skidded to a halt.

"Harry-- Rachel... was' wrong, are you ah'right?"

"Wha-- Hagrid, who was yelling? What are you... are you okay?"

Harry was confused and out of breath. Hagrid suddenly looked shifty.

"Oh, tha'... um... look, ev'rything's fine, you can jus' go back to the castle. I was jus'... go on, really now. Yer not supposed to be 'ere ." When they didn't move, he said again,

"It's fine," and gave Harry a meaningful look, who hesitantly backed away to go.

"Well... all right... are you sure?"

He didn't want Hagrid hurt like last year, but he seemed perfectly well, and had been all term, so far.

"Harry, it's nuthin'," Hagrid insisted.

Harry nodded slowly and cautiously decided to leave him to it, and started to leave the clearing. He noticed Rachel wasn't following him. He turned to her and started to say that Hagrid (probably) knew what he was doing, but she was staring at some point above the teacher's head, not moving. He followed her gaze, and stopped too.

A giant, sixteen feet tall, grayish, and leering, was towering over even Hagrid's shaggy head. Hagrid looked over his shoulder to see what they were all staring at, and cringed.

"Oh, ah... Well, Harry... you know Grawp..."

The giant's enormous face worked furiously, he looked like he was trying to recall who Harry was. After a pause, he looked at Hagrid and boomed, in a slow, deep voice,

"HARRY," and pointed at him.

"Good boy, Grawpy, tha's Harry!" Hagrid praised, glowing. "See, he's gettin' smarter too, he knows yer name now!"

"I'm thrilled," Harry said weakly. "Er... Rachel this is, er... Grawp." Rachel was attempting to breathe; the shock had stunned her for a minute, but she was starting to come around.

"Hagrid," she gasped. "What... what's he doing here?"

Hagrid tugged at his beard.

"Ah... well, it's a pretty interestin' story, act'lly..."
But Grawp, who seemed to have just noticed there was a third human in the clearing, swooped down with startling dexterity and tried to pick Rachel up to look at her. Hagrid shouted, "NO, Grawpy!" and snatched Rachel bodily from the ground, depositing her safely a few feet behind him and bellowing to Grawp,

"NO picking up people, Grawpy! BAD!"

Then, when Grawp had set his hand safely by his side, he said, like he was talking to a small child,

"This is Rachel, Grawpy... Ra-chel," pointing to her and patting her shoulder. Rachel grinned very feebly and sort of waved.

"Can you say Rachel?"

Grawp moved his enormous mouth sluggishly and said,

"Ray-cha."

"Good, Grawpy, good! Rachel is a friend of Harry's and Hermy's, Grawp! Remember Hermy?"

Grawp glanced up slightly at 'Hermy's' name, which he seemed to recognize, but then retuned to ripping the branches off nearby trees.

"No, Grawp! No! So Harry, there's nothin' to worry abou'... NO Grawpy! BAD! We was jus' playin' a bit. You can go back to the castle now-- No! Grawpy! Look at me! Er... maybe you should explain to Rachel, I'm kinda bus-- GRAWPY! What did I say abou' those birds! Very bad Grawp! I'm jus' keepin' im' closer to the edge of the fores' so as not ta bother them ruddy centaurs anymore, 'cause I got enough ta worry abou'... Grawp! Now cu' tha' out!"

"Leave him to it," Harry whispered to Rachel, who was still pale.

"Happy to," she murmured faintly, and they made their way back to the castle. Harry explained about last year and the trolls in the mountains, he finished talking just as they reached the common room. They sat down next to Ron and Hermione, who jumped very slightly in a guilty sort of way.

"Oh, hi Harry... Rachel, what happened?"

Rachel looked up and said slowly,

"I just met Grawp."

Hermione raised her eyebrows and Ron winced.

"...and Hagrid is way more insane than I thought."

Harry had to laugh at her expression. When the color returned to Rachel's face they spent the rest of the afternoon playing Exploding Snap until dinnertime, except Hermione, who was writing a long letter at one of the desks. Harry asked who it was for, already suspecting the answer.

"Well... Viktor. I had to tell him that Ron and I--" she blushed. So did Ron, behind her.

"I mean, if something is going to... happen, um... I thought he should know, you know... but I really hope we can still write each other.... Anyway, got to get this delivered..." she looked worried for a second, but dashed off to get to the Owlery before dinner, and when she returned, she looked normal.

After dinner was Quidditch training which ran fairly late because it began to snow. Ron missed a couple of goals and Jack Sloper smacked a Bludger right into Harry, cracking one of the lenses on his glasses, but other than that it was a good practice. Harry trooped back to the common room, proud of his team's efforts but eager to get into dry clothes, especially after Rachel lobbed a snowball right at him while his back was turned, fixing his glasses. He chased her around for a bit (finally getting some in her hair), so they were the last ones in Gryffindor Tower. He was still laughing and breathless when they entered the dormitory, dripping on the ornate rugs. Rachel suddenly seemed distracted, but told Harry it was nothing. They were the only people in the room. Harry sat down at a table to pack up his books so he could go to bed. He crammed them into his bag and turned around; to his great surprise, he saw Rachel sitting in front of the fire with a purring Sprite and crying. He felt a flash of extreme déjà vu from last Christmas, and hesitated.

"Um... Rachel?"

She hurriedly wiped her face, and cleared her throat.

"I'm sorry... it's just-- it's my dad's birthday today... I mean, not my dad's, it's Abbot Connor's birthday... I was just, you know... thinking about him..."

Harry sat next to her awkwardly. She sort of half laughed and said,

"Poor Harry, you've always got girls weeping all over you..."

"Oh... um, yeah, it's-- it's alright..." He was pretty certain he shouldn't smile. They were silent for a moment, and she whispered,

"It's... it's my stupid fault, I just... if I had been there... I'm not even their kid, they shouldn't have..."

She trailed off and took a deep breath, pressing her lips together.

"Rachel," Harry said seriously, "It's not your fault; they knew what they were getting into when they adopted you. It's not like they... I mean, they would have been prepared to... er..."

"Yeah," she said, sounding unconvinced. "But would you say it wasn't your fault Sirius--"

She stopped abruptly, looking mortified.

"Oh, Harry... I'm sorry, I-- I didn't mean to say..."

"It's fine," Harry cut her off. "But that was my fault. At least you didn't lead them right to Voldemort," he said in a disgusted voice. There was along pause.

"Harry..."

"Leave it."

Harry was furious with himself, the old feelings came rushing back, he was an idiot, his stupid need to play the hero had killed Sirius, who was trying to save his skin once again...

"Harry," Rachel said again, "Use your head. You wanted to save him, you did the right thing. It's Voldemort's fault, not yours."

Harry met her eyes. They were a sort of serene bluish-gray color, he felt somewhat calmed.

"How do you know all this anyway?" he asked flatly.

"My parents were in the Order." She grinned. "Well, three out of four of them, anyway. And Ron and Hermione told me a few... details."

They sat in silence for a few more minutes.

"Are you alright, Harry?"

He sighed.

"Yeah... yeah-- um... sorry about that..."

He felt a bit awkward again, but Rachel smiled softly at him.

"Well, that's what I'm here for," she said, and Harry reluctantly smiled.

"Well, what about you? I mean, will you... be okay..."

"Don't worry about me, I'm fine... well, I will be, anyway," she added, sounding a bit dismal but waving her hand. "I've got Ian and Chris, at least he doesn't hate me for what happened. Just... thanks, I guess I... needed to hear that..."

"Oh, um, sure... same here, really..."

Harry felt a strong swell of warmth toward Rachel, he was sort of glad, in an strange way, that they had spoken... they both stopped talking, he remembered when, weeks ago, he had sat in front of this same fire and realized what he felt for her. His heart was hammering yet again, and he suddenly felt very exposed, very unsheltered, but it wasn't as bad as he would have thought... their eyes met again... was he leaning into her, or was she leaning into him?... his cheek brushed hers... then they were actually kissing. A thousand thoughts burst in his mind, he wondered if he was even doing it right, he felt that years were passing, but at the same time, only fractions of seconds. All too soon, she drew away slowly and glanced down in a shy way, but she was smiling... Harry tried frantically to think of something to do other than beam like an idiot, like he was, but before he even took two breaths he heard a sort of strange, muffled shriek. Both he and Rachel whipped around towards the fireplace, at the foot of the girls' staircase he saw Ginny Weasley, covering her hand with her mouth and smiling.

"Ginny!" They cried, almost in unison, and rushed to her. She was going on uncontrollably and blushing, but also nearly laughing.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't know you were here, I just needed to go to the bathroom... but this is brilliant, I mean-- congratulations, I never..."

"No, Ginny, please be quiet, shhh--"

"How long have you two been dating? I mean, first Ron and Hermione, now you two, that's excellent, I never..."

Ginny was finally silenced when Rachel actually put a hand over her mouth.

"Sorry, Ginny... but listen to me, nobody knows, okay? Please, don't tell anyone, you know how things spread around here..."

Ginny was still grinning vaguely.

"I'm sorry... of course I won't tell, if you don't want me to, just... I'm happy for you!" she added awkwardly.

After she had sworn not to tell and left, Harry and Rachel said goodnight, in a shy but pleased sort of way. Harry climbed wearily into bed. So much for emptying himself of emotion...

Chapter Thirteen

One Birth and One Demise

Ginny seemed to be keeping her word, and the rest of the month passed safely in a snowy blur. It was nearly time for Christmas break, and after the Ravenclaw match (which Gryffindor won by miles) Harry and the others went to Hogsmead again for their holiday shopping. They were planning on going to the Burrow for the vacation, but they were surprised to learn they would be one short.

On the second to last evening of term, Harry and Ron were playing chess, Hermione was perfecting her final essay before they left, and Rachel was playing with an increasingly wild Sprite, when Ginny entered the portrait hole, looking pleased at something.

"What's up?" Ron asked her.

"Oh... well, ah-- Mum replied to an owl I sent her, and, er... I--"

"Spit it out," Ron said.

"Well, I-- I get to spend part of the holiday with-- with Neville," she reddened somewhat but her smile broadened. "I'll be with him and his grandmother for a week, then come back home.... What's with the shock?"

"Uh... I... er, nothing, I-- I guess," sputtered Ron. "I mean, I know you've been out together before, but... you're going on holiday with him?"

Ginny gave him a mild frown.

"Yeah, that's... that's the plan."

"Uh... okay... that's good, just... Neville Longbottom?"

"Yes, Neville Longbottom, who else?" Ginny snapped. "Ron, he's really nice, and he's been really sweet!"

"Yeah, I like him, just... Neville? Really?"

Ginny swelled rather like her mother, but fortunately for Ron, her answer was cut short when Neville himself appeared from the boys' dormitory stairs, and came over to her.

"Did you, um, hear back?" he asked with a shy smile.

"Yeah, she said it's okay!" Ginny said excitedly, her anger at Ron pushed aside. They sort of laughed timidly with each other and Ron started to look a bit wary until Neville turned to him and said,

"Ron, um... is this --okay-- with you? Um, I know it's sudden, and you want to, er... protect your sister, but um-- I... I really like her," he finished nervously, and a little lamely.

"Oh... oh, yeah, it's fine, Neville. Um-- yeah, it's cool," Ron said, somewhat taken aback.

When they were alone in their corner again, he said,

"Well, for a pathetic sort of guy, he's pretty good," in a satisfied way. Hermione said "Ron!" and Rachel gave him a contemptuous glare, only slightly diminished by the tiny, crazed cat fiercely leaping after the wand in her hand. She looked so much like her father that Harry stared.

"You look just like your dad when you do that!" Ron said in an amazed voice.

"I do?" Rachel said, momentarily diverted, and touched her cheek.

"Ron," Hermione said, still angry at his remark, "That was so rude, Neville's done loads better this year, a few of his grades are better than yours, even! And he is really nice!"

"I, know, I know, I was just saying! Keep your hat on!"

They bickered back and forth until Harry finally took advantage of Ron's preoccupation to take his turn, and then, when he still didn't notice, simply steal a few of his pieces off the board. Hermione seemed pleased.

***

The next day, being the last of the term, was quite easy, and flew by quickly. His last class was Potions, Snape bid him a fond farewell by making him stay after to scrub flobberworm mucus off the desks, but even this did not bother him as much as usual. It only took him a few minutes, and he left still in relatively high holiday spirits. He realized more than halfway to Gryffindor Tower that he had left his book, and doubled back to the dungeon steps. He couldn't find it on the desk, so he strode over to Snape's office, because he knew he had left after class. He opened the door and was surprised to see somebody already in there-- but it was only Rachel, who jumped slightly.

"Oh, hey, you startled me," she said.

"Sorry," Harry replied. "What are you doing here?" She held up a dark, leather-bound book, titled blandly Powerful and Exquisite Brews.

"I was going to leave this in his office, since, you know... he's here alone for Christmas..." she trailed off and shrugged. "I mean, I saw it in a bookstore in Hogsmead, it's pretty rare, but the storekeeper didn't know it, and it was really cheap. Oh-- come for this?" She grinned and held up his textbook in the other hand.

"Yeah, thanks. We should go, he'd skin us alive if he found us in here," Harry said. Rachel laughed.

"Don't worry, he's at dinner, I checked. I'm just going to leave this on his desk." She set the book down and noticed a small vial next to it, full of some dark, deep purple liquid.

"Wow, Re'em blood!" she said quietly. "I wonder how he got that..." She picked up the little crystal flask to study the blood; when the light from a candle stub caught it, it sparkled like a jewel. She looked at it, impressed, for a while, until Harry cleared his throat significantly.

"Right, sorry," Rachel said, gazing slowly around at the shelves full of other vague-looking liquids and hideous pickled things in jars. "I just--"

Harry, who had been headed towards the door, turned around impatiently and stopped. Rachel was walking slowly to a large basin, full of a silvery, wispy substance, set mostly out of sight on a waist-high cabinet shelf.

"Rachel, don't," said Harry, who had had rather bad experiences with that Pensieve. She was looking deeply into the stone bowl. Harry hurried to her elbow to pull her away.

"Trust me on this," he said. "Come on, let's... let's go get dinner..."

But Rachel was still peering into the swirling mist, running a finger around the Pensieve's edge, and said distractedly,

"We had a Pensieve, at my old house.... my dad... I mean, you know, Mr. Connor... he was a lawyer, he'd use it to go back and look at his interviews and things... he taught me how to use it once, we went back and saw ourselves at the beach..."

"Rachel, come on, seriously... bad idea..."

"I was just wondering if he... he had anything about my mother in there..." she went on, more quietly, but in the same vague voice. "I've never seen a picture of her, but everybody says she looked like I do... that would make sense; I definitely don't look like my father, anyway..."

Harry paused for a second. He remembered visiting and revisiting a certain mirror, in his first year, for the same reason. He had never seen his parents before, either; he knew what it was like... But no, she wouldn't actually go into Snape's thoughts, would she? He would just bring her away so she wouldn't do anything rash. He shook his head a bit and took Rachel's arm gently, saying,

"Come on, it wouldn't be worth it..."

Just then, a face swam into view on the silver surface. It that of a young woman, she did look like Rachel, but a bit older. It had to have been her mother.... Rachel's mouth opened slightly, she leaned closer to the stone, but the face faded from view. She drew a sharp breath. Harry wondered what to say, but before he knew it, Rachel bit her lip and dipped her hand into the churning haze. He realized he was still holding her arm and felt himself plunge headfirst into the basin, colors whirling past him, until his feet hit solid ground.

"Oh... sorry, Harry... I just--where are we?"

Harry glanced around. It was dim, the only light came from two flickering candles, but he could see, directly in front of him, a younger-looking Snape and another figure, whose back was to him. Snape appeared to be in his early twenties or so, not as stringy and pale as he had seemed at the time of his O.W.L.s, when Harry had last seen him in the Pensieve, but still not quite as he was in the present. The other man turned around; it was Lupin, about the same age, and with many fewer gray hairs. He still looked a bit older than his years, though; he probably always did. Harry heard footsteps-- somebody was coming toward them down a hallway to his left. A man with reddish hair and a long, dark green cloak strode into the candlelight. Something about his face looked familiar... before Harry could put his finger on it, the man spoke, saying to Lupin,

"Who else is coming?"

"It's just us, Fabian. Dumbledore doesn't want a lot of attention drawn to her, if he can help it, remember? He'll send backup in an instant if something goes wrong."

Fabian nodded. Lupin continued,

"Now, if we can't convince her to join us, we'll try to wipe her memory, but that's a pretty big thing to forget. We can't really do anything else, though, and if that doesn't work..." he trailed off. After a bit of a pause, he said, "Anyway, it seems she wants to join, I'm hopeful. Hagrid brought thestrals over from the school, we'll ride them most of the way. It's too far to Apparate." He motioned to and led them through a door just out of the candlelight. Harry didn't know what was going on, but Rachel had a calculating sort of look much like her father's. They followed the three shadowy figures out onto some kind of lawn; it was pitch black outside, and a sharp crescent moon was out, but often hidden behind wispy, dark gray clouds. The air was chilly and it was drizzling, and Harry wished for his cloak, on a table in Snape's classroom. He caught sight of three thestrals waiting for them in the moonlight, adding to the sinister atmosphere. Lupin, Snape, and the man called Fabian climbed on them and Harry gave Rachel a fleeting look. What were they supposed to do? She shrugged, and walked to where Fabian was, to her, floating in a sitting position. She felt around the unseen animal and climbed on clumsily. Harry got on with Lupin, who called "Ready?" and lifted into the air, not a moment to soon. Harry grabbed the back of his robes and they were soaring, up into the icy air and then through the misty, silvery rain. It was an uneventful trip. Harry glanced nervously at his watch. There was an large end-of-term-feast going on, so they had, at the very least, about an hour and a half, but he had no idea where they were going or how long it would take to get there. Just as he was trying to signal Rachel, which was difficult as she was behind him, they turned down sharply. Rachel gave a small yell, and they were soon on the ground again. Harry checked his watch again, they had a while. The thestrals had landed under a tree and Harry looked around again. They were in front of a medium-sized, slightly creepy-looking house; to the left was another huge tree, and to the right, a small shed.

"Where are we?" Harry asked aloud.

"I... I'm not sure," Rachel said. "But... I think...

But Lupin had reached the door of the house, and knocked loudly. Rachel shook her head and motioned to Harry. They hurried to the rest, not wanting to miss anything. Lupin was about to knock again, when the door opened.

"Aire-- huh?" he said to the woman who opened the door. She was thin and had her frizzy brown hair in a messy knot on top of her head. Despite the very cool night, she was sweaty and she looked worn out and somber.

"Yes, come in, this chill can't be good for anything," she said, ushering them in and shutting the door with a snap. Lupin looked back at the others; they all seemed to be confused.

"Are we-- is this where Airelle Rosier lives?" asked Fabian.

"Yes, but she's not doing very well, I'm starting to get rather worried... but the little girl will be fine, she's just a bit small," the woman said. Rachel gasped, "I knew it... Harry-- this... this is the night I was born...."

There was a pause as everybody else realized what the woman meant. Finally Snape said softly,

"She-- she had the baby?"

The woman paused.

"Yes... that's why you're here, isn't it?"

"Ah-- yes, it's just, last we heard, she was, um... still in labor," Lupin said quickly. This satisfied the woman, who disappeared down the corridor. When she came back, she was carrying a bundle of blankets and a piece of parchment. Lupin and the others did not notice her; they had fallen into an urgent, whispered conversation.

"Who's the father?" the woman asked. The others took a small automatic step back from Snape, who was closest to her. He turned around, not hearing her, and she pressed the bundle into his chest.

"Wha--no, I don't..." He tried to refuse, but she dropped it into his arms and held up the parchment.

"If you don't mind, Mum already had a name picked out," she said, and Harry saw that she was holding a birth certificate. He caught the name 'Rachel Adrian', followed by 'March 18', her mother's and Pyrite's names, and what he assumed were her weight and such.

"What? Ah-- fine..." Snape said, frustrated and completely wrong-footed, and glanced at the white blanket he was holding. Harry looked over his shoulder. Baby-Rachel was very small, had smooth, pale skin, and wisps of light hair. She looked like she was waking up. Snape trailed off and fleetingly looked back at her, and Lupin said from behind him,

"Can we speak to Airelle?" Rachel looked up from her infant self. The woman sighed.

"She's... she had a hard delivery," she said. "In fact, she... she might not..." she was cut off by a yell from down the corridor, somebody called her and the woman dashed off, saying wildly "One moment!" over her shoulder. Snape looked suddenly rather lost; he had nobody to give the baby to. He and Fabian turned to Lupin and they began whispering again.

"What did she say, she's not doing well?"

"It sort of sounded like she was... dying or something..."

"Well, how do we get to her?"

"I don't know, but if she doesn't make it, we'll have to--"

Lupin was cut off as the woman came very slowly back down the hallway, looking even more somber then she had and rubbing her forehead tiredly. They all looked at her warily. There was a pause.

"I'm afraid... I'm afraid she's-- gone," she said quietly. Snape glanced at Lupin and raised an eyebrow. He nodded curtly. They woman began speaking in soft voices, but he held his wand up to her and before she could react, shouted "Obliviate!"

The woman looked dreamy and dazed, Lupin leaned into her and said, like he had been carrying on a conversation

"The father will come for the little one's body later, we'll tell him what happened."

The woman looked a bit confused. Snape had turned to the window so she would not see the bundle he was holding.

"Um... I-- "

"You just said that Airelle and the baby died in delivery," Lupin said, looking at her with a slightly concerned expression.

"Oh-- yes, of... of course.... I'm sorry, I've been up for quite a while now..."

She nodded vaguely and walked back down the hall, Lupin turned back to Snape and Fabian and said,

"Now, we have to get the baby to the Conners, but if she's really-- gone, um, I guess we... don't have anything to worry about... I'll contact Dumbledore. Oh, Fabian, get in touch with Abbott and Diane, of course... And I'll go fix her assistant's memory," Harry was impressed; they had a plan prepared for every occurrence, and did not seem too thrown, considering the circumstances. Fabian nodded and Lupin set off down the hall. Snape started to say something, but he was also cut off, this time by a knock at the door. He frowned; the clock on the mantelpiece behind them said it was nearly three o'clock in the morning. He nodded to the dim kitchen on their left, and he and Fabian sank into the shadows. Lupin hurried back from the room and ducked out of sight as well, just as the nurse opened the door. Fabian cursed under his breath. Standing framed in the doorway was Lucius Malfoy, also younger but clearly recognizable, and a man Harry knew as Antonin Dolohov, just as pockmarked as always. They spoke in low voices with the nurse; she was telling them about the outcome of Airelle Rosier and, supposedly, her baby. Harry hoped she still didn't show signs of the Memory Charm, but apparently she didn't, because Malfoy and Dolohov, aside from looking extremely tense all of the sudden, made no further moves. Snape hissed at Lupin, "There's a back door, follow me," and pulled his hood over his head. The group crept slowly further into the darkness. Malfoy was looking more and more suspicious. The woman let him inside and Lupin quickened his pace. Suddenly, Fabian yelled and as a heavy frying pan crashed onto his foot. Malfoy and Dolohov whipped their heads toward them, reflexively shoved the nurse aside and ran into the kitchen; Snape threw the nearby door open and the others raced with him into the foggy night. The Death Eaters were throwing curses at them; they had seen a sliver of Lupin's face in the dim light from a window and recognized him. Lupin and Fabian shot hexes behind their backs; baby-Rachel started crying and Snape pointed his wand at her instead, yelling "Silencio!" She continued to open her tiny mouth, but no sound came out. Dolohov had been knocked to the ground by a well-placed Reductor Curse. A jet of light flashed from Malfoy's wand and Snape yelled; there was a nasty-looking gash above his left eye, but Malfoy was Stunned at that moment by Lupin.

"Did they see you?" Fabian asked Snape urgently, who shook his head, wiping blood off his cheek. Lupin said hurriedly,

"Quickly, they'll send for somebody the second they wake up... and the neighbors will come soon, too..." They raced to their thestrals, Harry and Rachel got on behind them and they lifted off again. Lupin, with difficulty, scribbled a note and tapped it with his wand, muttering, "Portus". It glowed blue for an instant and he tossed it into the air; it disappeared moments later. Harry realized with awe he had just sent a message to someone (Dumbledore, he supposed) that wouldn't be intercepted. When they touched down another precious half-hour later, they were standing in front of another house, this one in the middle of a much more pleasant-looking neighborhood. Lupin and the others dismounted and walked up the drive. Rachel was watching them intently, like an absorbing movie. They reached the front door and Lupin knocked loudly; after several raps, the door opened. A tall, limber sort of man was standing in front of them, looking alert even though he had obviously just woken.

"What, did something happen?" he said seriously. A pretty woman with short, dark hair appeared behind him, pulling on a bathrobe and looking anxious but attentive. Rachel drew a sharp breath.

"Um... well, yes, something happened. Er... did you still plan to take Airelle Rosier's baby, if she couldn't?"

Mrs. Connor gave a small 'oh!' and put a hand to her mouth, and they both looked to Snape. They apparently hadn't noticed the blankets he was still holding. She and her husband ushered everybody in and closed the door, while Lupin and Fabian gave them a quick, slightly drained run-through of what had happened. When they were done, the Connors looked slightly overwhelmed, but also elated-- out of the blue, they had a baby daughter.

"Yes, of course we'll take her, we... we hoped that we would be able to..." Mrs. Connor said. "Well, not that she would... but we have a bit of a nursery, a bassinet in the back room, anyway... I'll take her, if she needs to sleep," She put her arms out breathlessly to take the baby, and Snape slowly started to pass her the bundle of blankets. But Mr. Connor touched his wife's shoulder gently, she glanced at him and lowered her arms, saying,

"Actually... I need to-- find out a little more about what Dumbledore wants us to do, exactly, to keep with his story... would you mind?"

Snape took the baby back and nodded curtly, he took her back down a hallway behind him. Rachel and Harry followed. Harry nudged Rachel.

"We've got about ten minutes until dinner's completely over," he whispered.

"Yeah..." she said vaguely. Harry knew they were staying.

Snape entered the small room serving as a nursery and closed the door. He leaned against the opposite wall and waved his wand over the newborn to break the spell. She looked up at him interestedly and blinked. Present-day Rachel walked slowly up to him and stood next to the window, watching them. Snape held his baby for a long time. He looked sort of... Harry couldn't put his finger on it-- worried? Scared? Nervous? No... he couldn't quite name it, but there was still the tight frown and creased forehead Snape always had. Baby-Rachel lay quietly, sometimes softly gurgling. She was an awfully calm little thing. Finally Snape looked at the ceiling and sighed. When he looked back at the fidgeting infant, his dark eyebrows contracted as though he had been suddenly pricked. He opened his mouth uncertainly. Present-day Rachel looked into his face. He seemed different...somehow. His look was suddenly less angry then--pained. Harry had never seen this sort of sentiment on his face; or any, for that matter, other than irritation, rage, or occasionally smugness. The weight of the little infant's situation suddenly crashed on Harry. For a second the Potions master seemed--human... standing in the shadows, holding his child, anxious and worried.... He started to say something to the now squirming newborn; Rachel leaned closer, a deep breath swelling her chest, but before he could speak, the baby gave a short, sharp little cry.

It was like a door had slammed behind Snape's face. He closed his mouth and frowned. He now looked as he always did.

"Hush," he hissed at the baby. "Hush!" He shifted his arm under her and she quieted. Snape glanced at the door. He strode to the bassinet across the room and lifted Rachel to put her in. For a second, he held her nearer to his face. He held her up to kiss her forehead--but stopped again and set her down. She yawned. Present-day Rachel suddenly reached out her hand as if to touch his arm, but lowered it awkwardly, seeming to remember she couldn't lay a hand on him in his memory. She lowered her gaze and pressed her lips together. Snape swept from the room, pausing to turn on a baby monitor on a table by the door. He reached the living room, yanking his hood over his face and saying shortly,

"She's in the cradle."

Lupin and Fabian stood to leave and Mr. Connor began to say something, but the room was dissolving, along with their forms, until Harry and Rachel were the only ones remaining. They were spinning again; Harry didn't know which way he was turning, whether he was upside down or everything else was. Suddenly, the Great Hall materialized around them. The House Tables had been replaced by hundreds of desks, and students were bent over each one, writing on pieces of parchment and checking their watches.

"We should go," Harry said softly.

"Oh... right..." Rachel said, looking up from her father's O.W.L. test.

"Don't worry, I know this one," Harry told her. She looked at him curiously. "Long story..."

Rachel shrugged distantly and took his hand, they were floating, they were through the ceiling; Harry felt dizzy for a second and then, they were standing in Snape's office. They slipped out quickly. Harry didn't say anything; Rachel looked distracted anyway. They told everybody they had been packing and Rachel stole up to bed with Sprite before they could talk much, but she gave Harry a tiny, reassuring smile as she passed him and he looked at her, concerned.

"I'm fine, just... that was a lot to take in, that's all... I mean, I just saw my own birth..." lShe grinned a little, still distractedly, and took her kitten upstairs. Harry decided he should ask her before telling Ron and Hermione what they saw, so he went to his dormitory, too, and tumbled into bed. It had been extremely weird, somewhat unnerving in a way, to see Snape sort of... paternal. Harry was suddenly shocked all over again, like he had been at Grimmauld Place, that Snape was Rachel's father. It was like seeing Petunia Dursley waving a wand, or Draco Malfoy helping a first year find his class, it was just-- wrong. Harry realized he was very tired, and half-asleep, wondered dimly what would happen next. Maybe the Chudley Cannons would win the World Cup...