Summary: Not everyone is happy with the couple and forces conspire to tear them apart.
AN: Several months after the end of the last chapter. Just before the end of the school year.
~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~
~ooO Carpe Diem II (1) The Sundering Ooo~
"Master Lestrange, there is someone at your door."
"Merlin's bollocks!" Rabastan Lestrange rolled out of old-fashioned four-poster bed, grabbing his robe, thrusting arms into the sleeves as the sleepy woman in the bed sat up, holding the quilt close against the cool air; her bare shoulders indicated she was nude or nearly so. He turned and leaned down to brush a kiss against her lips. "Sorry luv, see you at breakfast."
With that he darted towards a particular cabinet set in a far corner. The cabinet did not contain anything, in fact it was one of a pair of Vanishing Cabinets. Anything and anyone placed in one would appear in the other in less than a second. This particular cabinet's match was set in Rab's suite. It gave them privacy to visit each other without being spotted by students, gossipy portraits and ghosts. Rab gave her a painting belonging to a Lestrange ancestor, while keeping another copy in his own suite. When someone knocked on the door the portrait would alert the lovers if they were in the others room.
Hermione Granger, a.k.a Hermia Grangston, sighed and settled back after a quick look at the clock. She could sleep in for another thirty minutes. She could but found she couldn't; there was too much on her mind.
It had been three years since she had been thrust into the past, five months since she had first met Rab, two since she had taken him into her bed and heart; it was almost the end of the school year and she wanted to ask Rab to spend time with her over the summer. She was certain he had plans that would conflict with hers… but she hoped they could at least meet. Hermione was sincerely debating the possibility of handing in her notice. If she worked for the Department of Mysteries full-time she would have more flexibility in her private life than if she remained as a Hogwarts instructor.
With her mind going full-tilt she gave up on sleeping in and rolled out of bed herself. An extra fifteen minutes on her yoga routine and a long hot soak wouldn't hurt.
~o~
Rabastan jogged slowly through the lesser known corridors leading to the Great Hall. He was thankful Hermia had shown him the shortcuts to get around the place. As he reached his destination he slowed to a more decorous pace and joined the rest of the staff on the dais.
"Good morning," he murmured as he slipped into the chair on the DADA instructor's left side. Everyone knew Rabastan always sat on her left side.
Hermia smiled up at him. "Good morning," she responded more loudly before biting into her toast.
Rabastan served himself quickly and began working on his bacon and eggs. He had an appointment in the Ministry at ten and needed to review his notes.
"In a rush?" she asked idly as she poured a cup of tea for him, and prepared it with a dash of lemon and one sugar, just the way he liked it.
"Hmm, yes. At ten," he answered between quick bites.
Just then an eagle owl flew down towards them, landing in front of Hermia. Cautiously she removed the letter while ignoring the velvet pouch attached to the owl.
"What is it?" he asked.
Swiftly she scanned the message and made a face. Without answering she folded the parchment and tucked it back into the velvet pouch before shooing the owl away. The bird was reluctant to leave without completing its delivery.
"I'm not interested," she told it firmly before glancing towards the Gryffindor table, and a particular hopeful face. "Take it back to the sender."
"What is it?" Rabastan asked feeling more concerned.
"It's from Sirius Black. I would recognize his messy scrawl anywhere!"
The wizard chuckled. "And this makes it the what? The eighth attempt at courting you? He's pretty persistent for a student with a crush."
She made a face. "Crush or not I would prefer he keep it to himself! Like all the other boys mooning over me!"
Blue eyes sharpened. "You sound concerned. Is there something I don't know?"
She sighed and was silent before responding. "Oh, I don't know. I know he's just a boy, but he's a Black. And a dangerously impulsive teenager. A dangerous combination." She took a sip of her own tea. "I don't understand why he's so persistent! I made it pretty clear I'm not interested in him." She smiled at him. "That there's already someone important in my life."
Rabastan smirked. "You're the youngest female teacher in Hogwarts. A mature beautiful powerful witch. What's not to like?"
He did not flinch when she lightly punched him in the bicep. "Oh you!"
He merely laughed and turned his attention to his breakfast. He did not show any reaction when he felt her bare foot rub against his trouser-clad calf. Rabastan was surprised by his own reaction. Or non-reaction. But then again Sirius Black was a boy, not a man and a real threat to his relationship with Mia.
Relief and elation soared within him when he realized this was more evidence that she was bonding to him, she saw Him as part of her future. In that moment Rabastan felt certain everything would be okay. Between Mia and Uncle Sebastian they would figure something out to handle with Voldemort.
~o~
Sirius Black frowned when he saw Professor Grangston fold his letter and tuck it in the pouch before chasing the post owl away.
"Ohh burn!" James Potter hissed in his best friend's ear. "This makes it the ninth time."
Sirius glared at James. "And you aren't doing any better at wooing Lily."
James cocked his head. "At least Lily is a student and in my house. Grangston is a Professor! She's not going to see you as a boyfriend."
"I overheard McGonagall speaking to Sprout," Peter offered. "Something about Grangston already having a boyfriend."
"What?" Sirius cried out in disbelief.
~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~
The days that followed were tense as Sirius Black tried to disprove Peter's words. No matter how hard he tried everything he uncovered seemed to prove it was true: Hermia Grangston had a secret lover – a witch as mature and attractive as she wouldn't have a Boyfriend, she'd have a lover or husband.
Finally he asked James for the Marauder's Map and the Invisibility Cloak. Using both he snuck out of the Gryffindor Tower and set about tracking down the DADA instructor on the Map.
Angry shocked grey eyes honed in on one particular pair of moving dots, very close to each other in one of the guest suites: Hermia Grangston and Rabastan Lestrange. He magnified that section of the parchment. The dots remained almost on top of each other, or right next to each other, occasionally passing across each other.
Sirius had only seen this effect a few times before – when a couple of students were going at it in broom closets or hidden corners. He could almost see it in his mind's eye: that bloody Dark Wizard shagging Hermia, her letting him do That to her. His vision went red with rage and envy. He wanted to hurt him, to hurt her, to make them pay for betraying him. The only thing on his mind was revenge. But how?
He could go to Dumbledore or McGonagall, but it was clear they were being very discreet; it's hard to prove they were an immoral example to the students when they were only doing it in their rooms and being polite in public.
Immoral… an idea sparked to life. Sirius Black scrambled for the Owlery. He had a letter to send.
Thirty minutes later Remus Lupin woke up in his bed. Someone was moving around the dorm, and not very discreetly either. He pushed the curtains aside and saw Sirius tucking a rolled parchment and shimmering bundle into James's trunk.
"What is it Siri?" he asked softly. He did not want to wake the other boys.
His friend turned to face him and Remus felt a chill run down his spine. There was something in his look, a maddened gleeful expression… He was out of the bed and standing next to the Black scion.
"What did you do?" he demanded in soft but harsh tones.
Sirius smirked. "I sent a letter to Mother."
Remus frowned. "About what?"
"Trixie's brother-in-law, Rabastan, he's sleeping with a Half-Blood witch."
The fog of sleep cleared from werewolf's mind. His mind worked rapidly, connecting facts and speculations. There was only one Half-Blood witch that had been the focus of his friend's attention: Professor Grangston. If Sirius was right Hermia Grangston was sleeping with Rabastan Lestrange. His stomach knotted. He liked Professor Grangston, and Lestrange was a surprisingly decent and intelligent bloke. He was a bit snobby but he was willing to help the older students if he was interested.
"Why did you do such a thing?" he hissed, irate at his friend. Rabastan Lestrange might be a Dark Wizard but if anyone could turn him to the light Professor Grangston could. Hell! She probably had if he was serious enough to respect her reputation.
Sirius glared at Remus. "Because." And with that he slipped into his own bed drawing the curtains closed.
Remus stared at the velvet barriers sorely tempted to tear them open and yell at his friend. Of all the boneheaded stunts! He retreated to his own bed hoping the fallout wouldn't be too disastrous.
~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~
Voldemort frowned as he scanned an old letter from Walburga Black. She was not one of His but she was a Pureblood Traditionalist. He rolled the parchment and put it away with a thoughtful expression. He picked up a glass of wine and sipped it slowly.
Why hadn't Rabastan reported his progress? His mission was to seduce and turn Hermia Grangston from the light. True, he was lowering himself by actually sleeping with the muddy witch but it was a sacrifice Voldemort had asked of him. Why was he hiding his success?
Voldemort became more concerned as his thoughts turned in different directions. If Rabastan hadn't reported his success, what other things was he not reporting?
There was a soft knock at the door before it opened and Amycus Carrow entered.
"My Lord, we have secured our objective."
Blood red eyes flared as Dark Lord put his glass down. "Any losses?"
Carrow winced. "Nine killed, six injured seriously enough that the Healers aren't sure if they'll survive the night. The rest have bad but treatable wounds."
Voldemort did not betray his shock though he felt it. He had ordered four of his inner circle to lead a group of sixteen to capture Hermia Grangston. "The leaders?"
"Lucius Malfoy is wounded but he will survive. Thaddeus Nott is dead. Antonin Dolohov may or may not survive the night." Carrow hesitated before continuing. "Rookwood had to break cover in the Department of Mysteries. If he didn't she might have succeeded in escaping."
"Where is she?"
"In the warded cell. As you ordered."
Voldemort nodded. "I shall be summoning the Inner Circle for a gathering in two hours."
Amycus Carrow bowed and backed out of the room.
Voldemort picked up his glass and sipped the wine. Hermia Grangston was turning out to be a more powerful witch than he'd anticipated. His followers were boastful and prone to exaggeration, and by that token they were very reluctant to reveal any weaknesses or failures – it was not the Slytherin thing to do. For Carrow to admit they might have failed was very telling.
But it did not matter; he had the witch. And if Rabastan did not have a very good explanation for his actions she would pay the price.
~o~
Rabastan Lestrange was tense. The message was a summons he could not avoid. He wished Hermia had returned from her meeting with her DoM contact. He did not feel comfortable leaving without informing her… and this was too sensitive to trust to an owl so he'd settled for leaving a letter in her runic puzzle box and activating the puzzle protection.
It was unnerving, being the focus of so much attention. There were a few compassionate looks that made the younger Lestrange more uneasy. What had happened? Did Voldemort suspect something? There were too many Death Eaters to successfully fight his way out.
"Rabastan."
The wizard stiffened and bowed deeply. "My lord." Then he watched as Voldemort strode from the side-entrance and took his seat on the single throne-like seat on the dais. He was very aware of the Inner Circle moving into a semi circle – arranged based seniority, influence and alliance- at his back. Rabastan struggled not to break under the cold blood red gaze.
"You have been keeping secrets Rabastan."
Rabastan inhaled deeply. "Which secrets do you refer to my Lord?"
"Hermia Grangston."
He knew. He knew! "I have been working on strengthening her interest in me," he spoke carefully, uncertain of how much the Dark Lord knew.
"She is your lover," Voldemort countered flatly. He caught the eyes of Amycus Carrow who stepped out of the archway.
Rabastan inhaled sharply seeing the battered form of his lover being dragged into the room between two masked Death Eaters. She made a soft sound as they tossed her on the stone floor between him and the dais, practically at the Dark Lord's feet.
He did not move as she pushed herself to her knees, then her feet using the dais as leverage. Her robes were torn and dirt-stained, gaping to reveal the odd wide-legged navy blue silk pants and the cream embroidered maroon silk cheongsam she favoured. She rubbed the back of her hand over her split lip and straightened.
"Tom Riddle, I presume."
Everyone froze. Red eyes narrowed and nostrils flared.
"What did you say?" The Dark Lord's voice was poisonous.
"That is your name, is it not?" she murmured in a soft but carrying voice. "Thomas Marvolo Riddle, born to Merope Gaunt and Thomas Riddle." She cocked her head. "A pity you embarked on this foolish crusade. You could have done great things, much greater than rallying a small percentage of Wizarding society for baseless reasons."
That enraged the Dark Lord.
"Crucio!"
And missed. Despite being bruised and weakened she twisted gracefully, almost dancing out of the way. The spell energies hit the stone floor and dissipated.
"Is that all you've got?"
He jumped off the dais casting spells one after another, almost recklessly casting spells that she ducked and avoided, spells that hit his own followers who saw what was happening and retreated seeking defensible positions (mainly the stone pillars supporting the vaulted ceiling.
And they saw despite being beaten and wounded, despite being wandless, she was somehow holding her own… against the Dark Lord. For the first time Rabastan felt a surge of hope. It was a slim chance, but if Hermia had a wand she just might win this duel.
And all throughout Hermia Grangston laughed, and mocked, and critiqued the Dark Lord's performance, his technique and choice of spells. One particular Incendio spell set her robes on fire. She merely shrugged the burning garment off and tossed it at the Dark Lord before making an odd gesture. The flames contracted then expanded rapidly, shaping into the maw of a massive dragon heading straight for Voldemort.
Hastily he raised a shield. The fire dragon impacted against it and split into smaller flames that dissipated. Warily now the Dark Lord circled her. Bellatrix Lestrange took a step forward but was held back by her husband. This was a duel of strength. If the Dark Lord could not defeat a wandless witch he was not worthy of their allegiance.
"I got the idea from a Muggle cartoon and comic. Jutsu. Bending."
The stones around her surged and grew into spikes before detaching and flying at the Dark Lord like stone spears. It would take a lot of power to fuel a shield against kinetic masses. He took a note from her book and ducked and weaved to avoid the projectiles.
"You cling to the past when the future could be so much More!"
He began using more dangerous and darker spells, faster and faster. He was a genius and an accomplished duelist with a large arsenal of spells. Hermia Grangston was wandless and limited to her more energy-intensive wandless elemental magic. She held him off for ten minutes before falling under a chained spell ending in a bone-breaker that tagged her.
Even lying on the floor, beaten and practically immobile, her eyes flashed fire.
"All you seek is power and immortality. They will be the end of you," she vowed.
He dared not approach her too closely. The stones around her were rippling subtly. If he used the Killing Curse she would most likely raise a stone barrier, so he decided to use a curse he had come across in his research. "Eradico Perfectus."
As he'd expected she raised the stone in a dome around her. It shattered under the lightening bolts of his spell. She screamed as the energy consumed her leaving nothing but a scorched mark on stone and rubble.
Voldemort was breathing deeply though he managed to keep from betraying his fatigue.
"Pity," he remarked. "She was an accomplished duelist and spell crafter." He walked towards Rabastan who was kneeling, staring at the scorch mark that was the only thing left of his lover. "You no longer have a reason to remain at Hogwarts. Think carefully about your position in society, your responsibility to your Pureblood heritage. When you are ready you will come to me." And then he walked away.
Rabastan was vaguely aware of the other members of the inner circle walking away, leaving him shell-shocked and numb, staring at the scorched grey stones.
Mia was gone. Voldemort had killed her.
~o~
Pain was her existence, the only thing keeping her grounded in the inky darkness.
"Granger."
Her name. No wait, she was Hermia Grangston. But you were Hermione Granger once upon a time, a small voice insisted.
Clinging to that truth she struggled towards the tiny pinpoint of light, towards consciousness. She cried out in pain when she was nearly blinded by the light. Her voice was harsh and her throat hurt.
"Dim the lights," a female voice ordered. "She's too sensitive."
Hermione squeezed her eyes shut against the light. "Where?" she demanded in a harsh froglike croak.
"Department of Mysteries. It's been five years since you vanished but you're home now."
Home? She couldn't quite stop the tears that leaked from her eyes. Home was Rabastan, home was his arms, sitting beside him, lying in his bed, loving him. Home was gone since Rabastan Lestrange had become a Death Eater and died in the Battle of Hogwarts.
A male someone murmured, "Just sleep and focus on getting better. A lot has changed since you vanished."
She wanted to argue with him and say her world had been destroyed and that nothing would make it better. Before she could the witch murmured a sleep spell and knocked her out.
~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~
Remus Lupin frowned as one of the younger Gryffs gasped and dropped his copy of the Daily Prophet on the dining table.
"What is it?" he asked.
The second year passed the paper and pointed an article on the third page: 'Hogwarts DADA instructor missing.'
He grabbed the newsprint and quickly scanned the short article. Hermia Grangston had been reported missing by Headmaster Albus Dumbledore for three days. Foul play was suspected but there were no leads, only duelling spell damage in the Ministry room reserved for her meeting a Ministry worker. The unidentified Ministry employee confirmed he met Professor Grangston and they parted ways, she stayed to finish some paperwork and was presumably attacked and abducted. There were no clues or any witnesses, nothing for the DMLE to go on. Given her Half-blood status, gender, and the current tensions the unofficial conclusion was she was dead.
The paper fell from numb fingers.
"What are you reading?" Sirius turned towards Remus, craning his head to read the print.
The numbness did not fade entirely but Remus managed to glare at his yearmate. "Look at what you've done!"
Sirius' expression was unrepentant. "Looks like she got her just desserts for consorting with a Dark Wizard."
Remus was furious. "She did not deserve to be killed for daring to date a Pureblood!"
Sirius shrugged. "Her boyfriend probably delivered her to his Master."
"I think the letter You sent to your mother did that," Remus pointed out acidly.
Sirius showed no remorse, no discomfort, only satisfaction. Remus was reminded that despite all Sirius's claims and Sorting he had been born and raised in a Dark family who had no problems killing to eliminate enemies or competition. True there was no proof Sirius' letter started the mess but the werewolf's instincts screamed otherwise. Peter had eavesdropped on McGonagall more than three months ago. Professor Grangston and Rabastan Lestrange had managed to keep their relationship secret all this time. And just a week after Sirius sent a letter to Walburga Black Professor Grangston vanishes and is presumed dead? There was no proof but there was too much to be coincidence either.
A soft tinkle rang through the Great Hall. Everyone looked to the Head Table. The Headmaster put down the fork he was tapping against his goblet and stood.
"As you may have read in the Prophet our DADA instructor, Professor Grangston, is missing and presumed dead. I am certain our Aurors are doing their best to locate Professor Grangston. Please, let me assure you Hogwarts is the safest place in Britain; Professor Grangston was taken when she was in London. As much as I hate to say this her absence is going to make it difficult for students taking their DADA OWLs and NEWTs. Professor Flitwick and Professor McGonagall will be continuing DADA classes for fifth and seventh years. For the rest of you the final exam will be on material covered up to now. If you have any questions please talk to your Head of House. Thank you."
And then he sat down. The Great Hall broke into a buzz of conversation. Everyone was talking. Remus could not bring himself to join the conversation, the gory speculation. If Sirius did this because a witch refused to date him, what else could he be capable of? That troubling thought refused to leave Remus. He could only pray and hope she was alive and well, or in a better place.
~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~
Sebastian Lestrange looked at the wizard sitting on the other side of the coffee table, across from him. The last time he'd seen Rabastan there was light in his eyes, joy and wonder whenever he had talked about Hermia Grangston. Now… Now it was like the light within him was extinguished.
"I'm sorry about Hermia Grangston."
Dead navy blue eyes turned in his direction. "She's gone."
Sebastian nodded. "Yes, she is."
"He killed her."
"That is what most Dark Lords do. They kill any competent competition."
Rabastan inhaled sharply. "He has to pay." There was still a spark in his grand-nephew.
Aged blue eyes did not look away. "Given the current government policies and court system he will not pay. He will not pay if any of the factions in play, the Dark or the Light, win." Sebastian was satisfied at the cold rage he had ignited. "Dumbledore is a sentimental old fool who refuses to make hard choices. The Ministry is incompetent and hamstrung by silly blind fools. They may succeed in putting the flames out but there is a high probability of Tom Riddle escaping; he is no fool."
Small sparks darted around the younger wizard, smoking when they impacted solid matter. "He Must pay."
Sebastian leaned back in his chair. "What are you willing to do to ensure that?" he countered. "What will you give up? What will you sacrifice?"
Flames burned in navy eyes. "Everything."
"Riddle seems to be very interested in you. He will not give up," he warned.
Rabastan snarled. "I vow upon my magic, I will Never bear his Mark!"
Sebastian was pleased and afraid for his young relation. "I have an idea," he announced after some consideration. Rabastan tilted his head and made a go-ahead gesture. "It will protect the Clan and set up ground to reclaim the British branch in the fullness of time." He waited until he was certain Rabastan was paying attention. "You must vanish, become a ghost. Until Riddle is dealt with and perhaps even after no one must know you are alive."
"You want to stage my death," Rabastan surmised.
"Yes."
"It will not work. There are records in the Department of Mysteries and the Hall of Records that will update automatically."
"If you stay out of Britain they won't," Sebastian countered.
Rabastan shook his head. "No. I can move to France but there will be times when I will have to travel. It will be foolish to not account for the possibility I may have to return to Britain for some undeniable reason."
"Do you have a better idea?" Sebastian wanted to know.
Blue eyes focused on some distant point. Then he spoke slowly. "As a matter of fact I do. I need a decoy."
"Excuse me?"
"I need a fill-in, a body double, so no one is looking for me. Muggles use them when guarding VIPs. Everyone pays attention to the obvious one so the real one can escape."
Sebastian considered the idea. "That will take some work. And planning."
"And it is doable."
"Yes."
Both men were silent as the considered the logistics and requirements of such a feat.
"If we succeed in this, what do you plan to do?" Sebastian wanted to know.
Rabastan's face was very cold. "I plan on killing every Death Eater that dares to step out of Britain. And if Riddle shows up I will do the same to him."
Sebastian was very worried for his great-nephew. He needed a better reason to live. "Is this what Hermia would have wanted from you?"
The cold façade broke and splintered as tears filled the younger wizard's eyes. "No."
"She would want you to live," Sebastian continued. "All witches want their wizards to live happy productive healthy lives. Don't go chasing death so you can join her prematurely. She will not be happy with that."
Rabastan shuddered. "I'll try. But I miss her! And it hurts so much."
"I can't say the hurt will vanish completely but in time it will hurt less. For now focus on living for her, doing the things she'd want you to do."
Rabastan nodded, blinking rapidly.
Sebastian did not say anything about the soundless tears running down his great-nephew's face. He regretted never having the opportunity to meet Hermia Grangston. She must have been a truly remarkable witch to have influenced Rabastan so.
~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~
Albus Dumbledore scanned a cut-out article from the Daily Prophet with a particular headline: 'Lestrange Heir Apparent suffers in Accident.' The article went on to explain Rabastan Lestrange had been testing an experimental spell that back-lashed, destroying a great deal of the environment and injuring the wizard. He had been taken to St Mungos where he was treated. When he recovered enough to wake up it was evident he had lost large chunks of his memory, including his Mastery training. He was released into the custody of his elder brother Rodolphus.
The wizard carefully put it down and pulled out a second cut-out article. 'Lestrange Heir Apparent enters social whirl.' The article touched on Rabastan Lestrange's recent hospital stay and recent forays into Pureblood society events. He was no longer shy and uncertain, but more confident and aggressive. He had no interest in studying and regaining his Mastery but seemed intent on pursuing a hedonistic lifestyle, the traditional role of a second son supporting the family Heir, Rodolphus Lestrange.
The elderly wizard stroked his white beard with a thoughtful expression. It was a pity the loss of Hermia Grangston had driven him over the edge. It was Dumbledore's personal beliefs that the botched spell was some attempt at resurrecting the witch. The memory loss was most likely a subconscious attempt at forgetting her. Their relationship had begun on intellectual interests so he had suppressed that part of his personality and everything she had taught him about tolerance and balance.
All his sources indicated the same thing: Tom had killed her and practically ordered Rabastan to return when he was ready to take the Mark. And given his personality change he had probably taken the Mark, or was going to in the near future. A pity, they could have done a great deal for the Light even if they had refused to join the Order.
Carefully he tucked both articles into a scrapbook and shelved it. He had a school to run and an upcoming war to prepare for.
~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~
TBC…
~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~
AN: Wondering why the Marauder's Map was fooled? Identity is a tricky thing. Every program has to be told how to label a file. Hermione Granger appeared in the past with no records, no trace of history, her new identity was set up under Hermia Grangston, it is the only name she is known by in the past. Even in the DoM she is referred to as the Traveller Unborn, because her past/child self has not yet been born or even conceived.
AN: For those of you saying Sirius Black would never talk to his mother... Well we all know they had a difficult relationship, but the point of no-return? That usually comes after graduation. Parents usually pass off friction as teenage antics and ignorable. When you graduate, are an adult, no longer dependent, and you refuse to obey... depending on the parent it can become ugly. I can very easily seeing Sirius mad enough to do anything, even contacting his mother, to get someone else in trouble. I think this would have also been a turning point in Remus's eyes, why he so easily believed Sirius turned on the Potters. Because Sirius arranged for a witch who was not interested in him to be attacked, even killed.
Review, Review, Review
