This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

It was done. It was over. The play had been performed to its completion. Many had died while others survived. Others survived who should have died. Too many were gone who were needed today. Many were needed, but hid to survive. Survivors held answers to questions unasked. Unknown answers were the key to move on.

"It's bloody cold. When was it ever this cold in October? Cold enough to freeze the tits off a hag."

"You're a wizard, cast a warming charm, and by all means, shut-up."

"How much further?"

"We fly until sunset."

"I've not been on a broom in years. Can't we take a break?"

"No."

"But I'm cold and I have to wee."

"Shut-up."

"But –"

"Shut up or I'll shut you up, you pathetic rodent."

Peter Pettigrew anxiously looked over at the dour wizard beside him, wondering if he'd drawn his wand. His hands clenched the broom handle in a death-grip. It had been too many years since he'd ridden a broom for any length of time. He had to get down.

"Severus, I have to stop for a bit. Please, just go on without me. I'll catch you up."

With a snarl, Snape began a sharp descent. He didn't look behind him to see if Peter followed. The useless article wouldn't dare to not keep close contact, fearful of disobeying their master.

As he approached the ground, Snape circled once and landed on the side of a wind swept brae in the lowlands of Scotland. He watched as Peter approached and landed heavily, falling to his knees.

"Blessed be Terra Firma," said Peter, patting the ground with his hand before standing.

Snape gave him a disgusted look. "Hurry up and relieve yourself. We've a schedule to keep to."

Peter scurried behind a bush, trying to avoid the wind while he voided his bladder. He didn't see Snape's next move.

Looking around, Snape spotted a loose bit of bramble bush. He pulled it free and transfigured it into a cage. He watched surreptitiously as Wormtail rearranged his clothing after relieving himself. When the other wizard reached for his broom, Snape shouted, "There, over there, it's a rogue Dementor. Quickly, Wormtail, change into your animagus form and I'll carry you."

Peter turned in a circle looking panicked before becoming his rat counter-part. Snape swooped in and scooped him up, depositing him into the transfigured cage before he could react.

Wearing a malicious smile, Snape held the cage up to his face. "Oh dear, I must have been mistaken. No matter, I shall still carry you, Pettigrew. I can't bear to watch you cling onto your broom for another moment." He frowned for a second as if in thought. "Given your weak bladder, however, I don't believe I shall carry you at close quarters."

Pulling another branch from the bramble free, Snape transfigured it into a length of cord. He tied one end of the cord to the bristle-end of the broom and the other he attached to the cage. He tested the strength of his knots by pulling against them.

"That should do it," he said to himself before he Accio'd Peter's broom, shrunk it and mounted his own. He continued on to his destination, free from the rodent's intrusion in the quietude of the journey.

Wormtail trembled as only a rat could in his prison, dangling from Snape's broom. The wind batted the cage about, and a trip through some clouds left ice crystals trapped in his fur. He whimpered in misery and fear, totally ignored by the wizard astride the broom.

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She looked in the larder and knew she had to make a trip into the town today. It was market-day and the town square would be filled with people. This gave her only marginal comfort as she would still be out there in public unprotected, unable to get away from Death Eaters if they showed up. They'd taken to arriving and taking people at random after Harry Potter had failed to kill He Who Must Not Be Named. Taking a deep breath, she decided to ask her grandfather once more and went to the living room where he sat reading.

"Sir," she said in opening, "I need to go shopping today." She waited for him to acknowledge her presence.

The elderly wizard put down the Daily Prophet and looked at her. "Take ten galleons from the pouch and make sure you practice some economy. You can pick up my prescription from the apothecary as well. It's already been paid for."

"Yes, of course, sir. I was wondering, sir, may I have my wand today?" She bit her lips in anticipation of a lecture.

"Your wand, you say? Why on earth do you need a wand to buy our groceries? Are you too weak to carry them in your basket? Do you think yourself equal to the other witches out there shopping? Nay lass, no bastard half-breed deserves a wand. Do your business like a squib as usual, and be thankful you can use your wand for your personal needs. Now, off with you and be back in time to make my tea." He turned back to his paper expecting her to leave.

"Grandfather, sir, Death Eaters attacked Hogsmeade not too long ago. I just want to carry my wand for protection. I promise I won't use magic otherwise." She waited.

The elderly man laughed and shook his head. "You want to use your wand for protection, you, who can barely Accio a broom? Don't make me laugh, you silly cow. Better they took you any roads, save me money."

She sighed and turned away. Her birthright was thrown in her face once more.

CaitlinPrince was unwanted and unloved. She was the illegitimate child born from an illicit affair between her witch mother and a Muggle man while her mother was married to Jacob Prince. While her mother's wizard husband had lived, she had been treated as a pure blood daughter, part of the Prince family. Everything had been done to preserve the good name of the Wizarding family. No one knew about the indiscretion of her mother and she'd been accepted as their child. The elder Prince knew, however, and when his son died, she'd been pulled from Hogwarts and her mother banished from the family.

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Caitlin took up her basket and set out for the long walk to town. She prayed the weather stayed fair.