“It’s never a good idea to try and reason with someone hurting as much as she is… but it’s always a good idea just to be there, without words, without suggestions or squelching her preoccupations. She needs to work through it, one way or another. If our words won’t help, perhaps our silence will.”

Remus Lupin could not sleep without her in his arms. He felt her slip carefully out of his arms. He felt her lips against his forehead. He heard Bill beckoning her to come downstairs. Poppy was here to see her. Did he know, as well as Helen what was troubling his wife? He couldn’t help feeling a grudge forming against them both. He heard the both of them upstairs in the den, not long after Nymphadora had left the bedroom.

“I’m not a professor anymore.” He said breaking from his reverie and approaching Harry to shake the young man’s hand. “Sorry sir… old habits.” Harry looked troubled.

Minerva swayed. Was it her dream being realized? She shook it off, realizing the situation was urgent. She pulled on her heavy cloak, and trotted to Poppy’s room, rapping urgently on the door. “Poppy, we have an emergency!” she called through the door. Poppy Pomfrey emerged in her own red tartan cloak, and sighed, “When is it ever not an emergency?”

Goyle was nearly as stupid as his son. Lucius, only more arrogant and slightly more competent than his son, and Fenrir… well, he unnerved Severus.

“Lucius, if I were reluctant, you wouldn’t be here now.” “Is that a threat?” “No. That’s a fact.” He said turning from Lucius Malfoy who was waiting rather impatiently for the time that Snape was to lead them to their victim.

“Why were they trying to kill her?” Bill asked, looking at Minerva and embracing his own wife tighter.

Bill woke early that morning to get up and fix breakfast before Helen. He felt horrible about the row they had last night, and the bit Remus overheard.

“They’re napping. Don’t get off point, Gin. What’s going on?”
 
“Look, I was going to go to George and Fred’s flat—but Mum could manipulate into forcing me back to headquarters.”

Light footsteps trailed through the living room and it was Ginny who walked into the kitchen looking bedraggled. “What’s up, Gin?” Bill asked as she ignored his nod of salutation.

“Harry Potter.” She said sounding particularly bitter.

Bill suddenly came storming into the kitchen. “What is it, dear?” Helen tried cautiously.
“Get Charlotte ready, Helen, we’re leaving.”
“Bill, what’s go--,”
“Not here.” He said. “We need to leave now.” he said insistently but with no harsh note.

The howler let out a sharp, sinister hiss as she neared it. Before she could even touch it it shot up into the air and it's message resounded. There was a long, low call of a wolf... and then in a blood curdling laugh, it remarked, “You can run, you can hide, but you will doubtfully make it out alive.”