Adicus and Emily's bodies became static blurs, and Dumbledore's office fell away, like a living, breathing painting, its canvas melting and color bleeding all around them. A wooden grate then slipped in underneath their feet, replacing the classic marble, and Adicus' eyes had to adjust the dark room around him.

"Oh, excellent. We're intact." Emily commented at his side. Her voice had a discomfort about it, and her fingers were laced in a death grip around Adicus' arm and hand still.

"Yeah, yeah. You can let go of me now," He muttered darkly. Emily quickly detached herself, and began exploring. Adicus settled into a chair and watched her walk about. The kitchen they had been transported to was rather dark, for the exception of a beam of white light filtering through a window over a sink. Though the space was automatically tidier than most—due to its sheer emptiness—dust particles floated endlessly through the strip of window light, casting an ancient aura over the place. Adicus tugged at his sweater vest—it was uncomfortably warm. Emily had advanced onward to an adjoining room, but he noticed the array of papers splayed across the table before him; monochrome witches and wizards raced anxiously, endlessly, in and out of their captions, and Adicus scanned the headlines above a few of them: "ANARCHY IN AZKABAN UNDERMINTES THE MINISTRY: IS THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC CRUMBLING TO ITS FOUNDATIONS?" Underneath this headline there was what appeared to be a chamber filled with cubicles and whizzing paper airplanes, which almost seemed to be attacking frantic Ministry workers. Another caption: "INFERI FOUND FEEDING ON A GROUP OF MUGGLES: THE MINISTRY'S DEPARTMENT OF MUGGLE INTERACTIONS HOPES TO CLEAN UP MESS." Adicus scowled in disgust as a chained group of the fleshy, fanged creatures scratched at the edges of their picture. Most, if not all of the papers scattered about were detailing the alarming rate of destruction the wizarding world was in. And after fingering through a pile of papers describing the inferi massacre, a startling exception was discovered, right under Adicus' finger. And another: "A NEW DARK LORD? WILL POTTER BE ABLE TO DEFEAT ANOTHER YOU-KNOW-WHO, IF THE CRIES OF JOYOUS DEATH EATERS AT LARGE ARE TRUE?"

Adicus perused the article a bit, before noticing Emily's return from her exploration. "Find anything particularly interesting?" he asked nonchalantly, hastily slipping the paper in his pajama pocket.

Emily, not noticing Adicus' move, flopped down in the chair across from him, and continued talking. "Not really. They are four bedrooms, one bathroom, a den, and a pretty small garden out back. And by the looks of the outside, I'd say we're bloody far from the larger bit of Hogsmeade village. What did you find?" She had just noticed the pile of newspapers.

"Oh, just loads of talk of Death Eaters and the like. It's…sickening." He fingered the corners of a picture of Lucius Malfoy: there was a stark contrast between the blinding white, scraggly hair, matted across his head, and the deep pits of black that, somewhere within their shadows, held soulless black eyes. Emily picked up a paper that had been lying under many others. Her face dropped into a look of solemnity as she commented.

"They've already got press on Chase's death…hmm, well; at least they don't go into to much detail—"

"Give me that." Adicus quickly scanned the page, and purposefully avoided the clipping's picture, which was one of Chase's grave. "Yeah…they failed to mention anything about Iris." Or your dad, who killed him. Adicus' feelings of loathing were rising to the surface again. He pushed the paper away, and crossed his arms stubbornly. Emily opened her mouth to speak—she must have understood what had been left unspoken, but Adicus interrupted her thoughts. "I know, I know! If news were to get out that Harry Potter killed an innocent student, the entire wizarding community would fall into an endless pit of despair and misery, no need to explain—"

"It was an accident, Adicus! My father saved you! My father—"

"Yes dear?" Harry, along with three others, had apparated in the kitchen. Both teenagers were kneeling in their seats, bent over the table towards each other in rage. "Everything all right?" Emily's father was carrying a pile of clothes over to the table, of which he sat atop the papers in front of Adicus. "Sorry about the mess. But, since we've no real leads on any of the Malfoy's whereabouts, we have to keep our eyes on all the papers. Oh—these are your clothes, Adicus. And—" Harry gestured to the brown-haired woman and a lanky, red-headed man beside her. "Ron and Hermione have gathered some of your stuff."

"Here's your clothes, hon," said a delicate, red-headed woman who appeared behind Harry's shoulder. When Ginny Potter turned and smiled at a disheveled, scowling Adicus, the boy's expression softened a bit, and he felt his cheeks grow warm. "Nice to see you again, Adicus." She flashed him a congenial smile.

"You too." He replied in a small voice. Emily was glaring at him from behind her mother's back, who was now bending down to place the pile of clothes on the table. She absolutely hated it when Adicus ridiculed her father, but she had heard him do it so frequently that she could tolerate it. But perhaps it was different, now. After all, Adicus had just lost his friend, his only friend, apparently, as he had said; Emily was instantly reminded of the piteous look he had given her that last night. 'Emily, please stay…'

"Man, you two looked like you were about to bite each other's heads off—or kiss each other." Ron mused. He was perched on the cabinet near the sink. Hermione thwapped him hard on the arm.

"Ron, stop. Sorry you two…his humor is usually better than this, really." She reassured them.

"Yeah, if by better, you mean better than a troll's." Ginny scoffed.

At this, everyone burst into a light laughter, but soon after it had died off into awkward silence. Adicus pulled himself out of his seat. "I'm sorry, but do you all mind if I go lay down? I didn't get much sleep last night." Harry nodded knowingly, and without a word, led Adicus through the foyer, and up a flight of stairs. Ron had slid from the counter to take Adicus' now empty seat, and his sister, Ginny, moved to stand behind her daughter, who was looking sadly out the window.

"You two were fighting." Molly Weasley's maternal instincts were strong within her own daughter. And Emily hated that.

"Yes…but," she bit her lip hesitantly. "I should go and apologize. It was my fault." Emily rose, and gave her mom, aunt and uncle hugs before going off into the foyer.

-

The room was of medium size, and the collective dust that had been on display in the kitchen had dispersed into only a tiny layer of grey on the floor. Other than a distinctively musky smell it was nice, and a bunk bed was wedged in between a window and a corner. Adicus had already filed his clothes into a nearby dresser, and was now sitting down on the bottom bunk. Harry, awkwardly nervous for a man his age, scuffed his shoes on the floor. The two males were hanging in a tense silence. For many minutes Adicus watched trees rustle out of the nearby window, as did Harry. Finally, the man found the courage to speak to the boy. "I was pissed when they didn't say anything about me in the paper, Adicus. They lied and blamed it on a 'band of fledgling Death Eaters.' I never wanted to use the…Killing Curse on any students, not even Iris and her gang. I was—"

"—Irrational? Stupid?" Adicus interjected. Harry looked at him in surprise. He wasn't entirely startled by Darcey's words, but he had said them in a desperate voice, not an angered one. Harry swallowed dryly, and sat next to the boy.

"I was scared to death." Adicus glanced at Harry, who was frowning sadly. "Hell, even when I was younger, I didn't even have the guts to kill any one, I'd just stun them. It was a trademark move of mind, you could say." The man sighed. "I've only ever killed one person…and even then they weren't really a person at all. And…my far, my fear of losing and what my losing would bring—the destruction of Hogwarts, my friends…I had already lost my mom, my dad, and they had sacrificed themselves for me…" Harry looked once more at Adicus. Even though he was staring down, he could see the tears swelling up and the red rising in his pale cheeks. Adicus pressed the palms of his hands against his face, and as he brought them down, he spoke.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Potter. I'm…sorry…I'm stupid…I—" the boy's pathetic voice suddenly cracked in self-loathing. "I should've realized Iris had done something, that…that bitch! I'm so stupid…"

"No, you're wrong, Adicus. You really did all that you could, at that moment." Harry rubbed the boy on his back. "No matter how close I was to Voldemort, adults wanted to hold me back. But the more they tried, the more sadness was unleashed everywhere else. Which is why I want you and Emily to fight with me, against this threat. You obviously have your part in this, as do she and I."

Adicus nodded heavily, and croaked out a "thank you," before Harry tried to change the topic a little. "Which is why I'll need to owl your parents. If your mother is anything like Emily's, she'll need to know your whereabouts all the time." Harry rolled his eyes a little and Adicus shrugged in response.

"My mom's dead." He said, quite passively.

"I'm so sorry…" Harry said, after a moment. Man, he just couldn't say anything right to this one. Adicus could sense Harry's nervousness, and, actually, he chuckled a little.

"It's okay, really. She sacrificed herself for me, just as your parents did for you." Adicus gave Harry a friendly pat on the shoulder. Harry smiled, astonished at just how resilient and familiar, this Adicus Darcey was, to him.

When Emily arrived Adicus was just leaving, his truthful excuse being that he and the others needed to discuss further plans, now that she and Adicus were with them. She was surprised to be left with Adicus, who was propped up on a pillow, writing, looking peacefully down at the parchment with his glasses halfway down his nose. Tentatively, she took a place on the very edge of the bed.

"What're you doing?" She asked, her voice hardly about a whisper.

"I told your father I would take the liberty of writing Metellus Darcey. My dad'd rather here it from me that I'm away from my schooling than Harry Potter—trust me." There was a pause, fragmented by the sound of a scribbling quill.

"Darcey. I mean, Adicus, look—" Emily sighed. Wow. This was hard.

Adicus' eyes traveled from his letter up to her face. "You're sorry, hmm? Well, don't be. And as much as I love seeing you struggle with apologizing to your arch-nemesis, you don't deserve to. I already apologized to your father. And before you ask—I meant it." Adicus' mouth pulled into a wry half-smirk.

Emily scoffed. "Well, you're not my arch-nemesis anymore…not really."

"Shut it, Potter. Isn't there another room for you to say in?"

"Actually, I was thinking of bunking with you."

"Okay."

-

Now that they were away from Hogwarts, Emily and Adicus' sense of time and mind were equally altered. The next few mornings after their arrival were filled with Potter-run Defense against the Dark Arts classes, where wands were at the ready, and there was never a book to be found. When Harry and the others left on Auror business Adicus and Emily usually walked around Hogsmeade, or practiced their combat in the form of duels. In the evenings to come Hermione would take time out of her busy schedule to teach a little about the healing arts; a skill she had taken so seriously that it was no wonder to Emily and Adicus that she had become a Healer.

Well, there was that… and the fact her husband, Ron, was absolutely destructive to himself and others. But mostly to himself.

Despite magnificent hands-on training, the two had been unable to apply their newly-honed skills. For two weeks they were confined to household items, each other, and a handful of Aurors and Potter family friends that frequented the house. Emily had learned to be quite patient when it came to her father, for she knew him and was empathetic to his difficulties, but by the second weekend that they were cooped up in the house, Adicus had become agitated. Whiny, even.

"Come on. We'll go to the Three Broomsticks." Emily was leaning on the locked bedroom door.

"Nope." Was the curt and muffled reply.

"Please??"

Adicus sat up in his bunk, eyes narrowed with agitation as he talked at Emily through the door. "Emily, when are we going to be able to help? When we first got here, your dad promised I would be a part of this…that we would be. And what have we done for the past two weeks? Nothing! Bloody HELL." He flopped back down onto his pillow.

"I know, I know…" She knew he was absolutely right. Emily slid down the frame of the door, until she had fallen into a cross-legged seat on the ground. Within, Adicus had rolled onto his side. If he closed his eyes now, he could sleep for hours. Dreams of death continued to plague him, and if only to keep Emily from questioning him in the morning, he would spend the nights reading. Adicus' eyelids fluttered, and before he dozed off a tinny tapping noise startled him.

"No. Go away, Emily."

No response. The tapping continued. Adicus reluctantly got up, and as he stretched, he spotted a majestic black owl just outside his window, and it was rapping its beak on the glass. Curious, he quickly pushed up the pane, and the creature glided in gracefully, taking a fancy look around the room before perching on Adicus' dresser.

"Emily," Adicus boomed excitedly. "Emily, come in!"

"Uh, you looked me out with magic, you dolt."

"Alohamora!" He had whipped his wand out of his pocket and breathlessly said the spell. Emily "ooed" as she spotted the owl, who was as still as a statue, and was watching them with calculating, white eyes. It had dropped a letter at Adicus' feet. He snatched it up instantly. Emily peered over Adicus' shoulder, and collectively they read to themselves:

Harry Potter,

I write to you anonymously, as I fear what dreadful things may happen if this letter ends up in the wrong hands. Think of this warning as you will, but for the sake of hope, I shall try to reach out to you. I would ask you to make a presence at the dead end of Knockturn Alley as soon as possible. I have no way of showing any loyalty to you. I can only write this request and hope that you realize its sincerity. Simply allow Desdemona to take her leave of you once you receive this. There shall be no need to reply. She is faithful and wise, and I will know if you have received it or not.

I am in your debt.

"Emily…" Adicus muttered pensively. When he did not continue, Emily asked,

"What?" Her voice was agitated, a little, for Adicus was positively giddy. "What the hell's wrong with you?" He faced her, hands clutching the parchment unsteadily. He began to pace. That was never a good thing.

"We have to, we have to—I mean, this is fate! This is bloody fate!!" He cackled; Emily shrank in fear on the bed. "Emily, that bloody bird thought I was your dad! This is the chance we've been waiting for! Lets go in his stead! He won't even know!"

Emily shook her head furiously. "Uh, yes he will, once he's realized we haven't just gone around for a stroll in Hogsmeade! I mean…" Oh god. The prospect of leaving the house was much too tempting, even for Harry Potter's progeny. Wait wait wait. Wait a minute. How many times had her father snuck out, broken the rules? "Too many to count," she mumbled to herself. Adicus was practically kneeling before her, arms outstretched, begging, pleading. "Wow. You do look like my dad…" She grinned, when he sighed dramatically in response. "All right, all right. When should we leave?"

Adicus sprang to his feet. "Oh, come on. Are you that much of an idiot? Get your friggin' wand, and your friggin' broom, and we'll fly over there now, while everyone's still gone!"

-

The "dead end" of Knockturn Alley was unbelievably scary and cliché. The shops were tall and looming and most of the windows were boarded up. Strange sounds emanated from within the apparently vacant buildings. Bushes rustled and lopsided gates creaked ominously. Emily remembered several Muggle horror films that were set in places like Knockturn Alley, but in the wizarding world, cinematic tricks could be real threats. A cold breeze rustled the tail of Emily's coat and she instinctively grabbed Adicus' arm tighter as a shiver of fear and cold ran through her. Adicus didn't pull away; Emily didn't know if that was a good sign or not.

"Where do we go from here?" Emily whispered.

"I'm…I'm not sure." Adicus stammered; fear from the Iron Man. Bad sign.

Emily and Adicus stepped forward cautiously together, taking careful paces down the end of the street. Emily tried to look relaxed and unafraid from all angles in case someone was watching. They were bordering on the edge of the street when a voice said from behind them, "Harry Potter." Both of them jumped a little and began to turn around. "No," the voice said, "don't turn. I absolutely must remain anonymous. It is imperative." The voice belonged to a woman who didn't sound familiar to Emily, but she could see he gears turning in Adicus' head as the voice spoke again, "Who is this with you?"

Adicus swallowed heavily before saying, "My wife."

"The Weasley girl." There was slight disgust in her tone.

"Yes." Emily snapped. Adicus squeezed her arm as if to say, 'Stay calm.'

"Why have you called me here?" Adicus demanded.

"I have information for you." Adicus and Emily became absolutely still, waiting for the woman to speak. "Draco Malfoy is in his second home with his father and daughter. They are rallying Death Eaters and preparing for a surprise attack on the Order of the Phoenix." Emily glanced at Adicus; he seemed too busy thinking to say anything.

"Where is the Malfoy's house?" Emily asked.

"I cannot say; it is protected by a Fidelius Charm."

"Well, do you know when the attack is going to be?" Emily continued.

"I do not. But neither does Draco; he has not yet gathered the necessary manpower and weapons. But do not underestimate him. He already has great numbers at his command and his men could survive a number of large attacks." The sounds of approaching footsteps sounded behind them; when the woman spoke again, she was much closer. "Heed my warning, Potter," she said, "The Malfoys are a force to be reckoned with. You will need much more than the Order of the Phoenix to defeat the new Dark Lord." There was a sound like parchment being folded and a soft 'pop.' Emily glanced over her shoulder and saw only the empty and desolate streets at Spinner's End.

"Adicus," she whispered, tapping him on the shoulder. "She's gone." He paused for a moment to stare pensively down the lane.

"Why would she come to us and help?" Adicus suddenly wondered aloud.

"Who?" Emily said. "Who was she?"

"Narcissa Malfoy," Adicus said. "Draco's mother. She's a traitor?"

"His mother?" Emily gasped.

"My guess it Draco and Lucius don't know."

"How do you know it was her?"

"I met her a few times. Malfoy family functions and such—with Iris, you know." Adicus glanced down to where he was clutching a small piece of parchment in his hand. Narcissa must have passed it to him. He started to unfold it, but Emily stopped him.

"Not here," she hissed. "Anyone could be watching." Adicus nodded, pocketed the parchment, and firmly gripped his broom handle. They walked a little further till it was safe to mount their brooms, and then took off into the night.