Chapter 13:

Little Things

Madam Pomfrey gave him a suspicious look on Thursday morning. "There's nothing you're not telling me? No aches or pains?"

"Nothing."

"Can you feel everything?"

"Yes."

"I mean everything, Mr. Lupin."

"So do I."

She narrowed her eyes, as if expecting him to confess to some paralysis of a personal nature, but finally appeared to accept his answer. "You're not seeing or hearing anything odd?"

"Just those whispers, and you heard them, too."

She looked frustrated not to have anything to hold him on. "All right, then. You may go. But if you develop any numbness, lose your appetite, or start speaking in rhyme, see me immediately. Other than that, please do your best to stay away."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Well, that's that. Go on. You have classes. Don't skip your meals, either." She frowned and shook her head. "I'm getting too old to worry about you, Teddy Lupin. I didn't spend seven years keeping your father in one piece just to watch his only son self-destruct."

Teddy had been fighting the urge to answer her in rhyme, but the mention of Dad killed the idea. "I'll be more careful."

"Get on with it, then. The Scrimgeour girl brought you fresh robes while you were sleeping." She pointed to a carelessly folded pile of black cloth on the table, then Conjured the screen and went back to her office.

Teddy pulled on his robes, grateful for their crispness after four days in soft pajamas. He wondered when Ruthless had come, and if she'd sat with him at all, or kissed him in his sleep. He thought he ought to have at least dreamed something like that if she had, but for a moment, he let himself daydream about it-that she'd come in while he was sleeping, sat by the bed, held his hand, then finally leaned over and kissed him nicely, whispering that it wasn't nonsense when he was ill. Then his traitor mind twisted the scene, and she was sitting by his bedside, looking at him crossly after dumping his robes off without ceremony. In this version, instead of kissing him, she hissed, "Thanks for making my Defense classes awkward. I'm trying to get an apprenticeship with your Uncle Harry's division, you know, and you've gone and picked a fight with him, about things he probably knows more about, and you said hateful things. And he knows I'm your girlfriend sometimes. Thanks for nothing."

Teddy tried to push the second notion away and go back to the first-Ruthless wasn't one to say things when no one was listening, after all-but by the time he'd finished straightening himself out for class, the pleasant fantasy of having been kissed in his sleep had begun to seem as realistic as one of James's loopy, incomprehensible crayon drawings, while the denunciation took on the sharp clarity of a new photograph. He'd started to rehearse what he might say to her-beginning with the fact that she'd been the one to break up, so she didn't get any say in how things went-when he heard a throat being cleared on the other side of the screen. He half expected it to be Ruthless, and reminded himself to at least wait to find out if his daydream was real before starting an argument, but it wasn't.

It was Uncle Harry.

The fantasies shattered and were swept away. Teddy sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Are you coming to my class?" Uncle Harry asked.

"I have to. It's O.W.L. year."

"Well, it's words. I guess that's progress." He pulled up the chair and leaned forward, elbows on his knees, hands folded tightly. His glasses and wedding ring flashed in the morning sun. "I hate this, Teddy," he said.

Teddy looked over at him from the corner of his eye, and remembered playing Auror-versus-Lethifold in Granny's greenhouse. Uncle Harry had Charmed a large black blanket to follow them around, and Teddy had never questioned the fact that it tended to move every time Uncle Harry "cursed" it. These games would end with Teddy wrapped up in the blanket, and Uncle Harry tossing him up toward the ceiling while he laughed. It should have been Dad's job, Teddy thought, but it didn't bring anger at Uncle Harry this time, just a sort of vague, unfocused grief that he thought he'd hit the end of years ago. "I hate it, too," he said. The image of Ruthless denouncing him in his sleep came again, and he braced himself. He could be bigger about this. "I'm sorry I said what I did about the people who died. That wasn't your fault, it was Voldemort's, and I'm sure you'd have found a better way if there was one."

It was something he'd heard Granny say, in one variation or another, on many occasions, and it came out sounding rehearsed, even though he hadn't even planned to say it, let alone practiced.

"Thank you," Uncle Harry said. Teddy waited for him to say he was sorry about the Stone, but he didn't. Instead, he said, "I'll let you get breakfast before class. I just wanted to see you before then. You know in class that-"

"-that you're here to lecture."

"Yes. And someone's visiting today who... well, let's say I consider it wiser than usual to keep the personal to ourselves." With this, he stood and left. The whole conversation seemed incomplete somehow.

Teddy had History of Magic before Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Donzo slipped him the last few days of notes. Geoffrey had apparently derailed normal lecturing on Tuesday with a long rant about how the goblins would have been better guarantors of public trust than the Ministry (Donzo had, for some reason, taken careful notes even during Geoffrey's sputterings), so Teddy had really only missed a class and a half in three days. About halfway through class, when everyone other than Geoffrey was trying to find a good daydream to slip into, Donzo kicked Teddy's ankle. Teddy looked over and noticed that he'd covered one of his eyes with black fur.

The wood grain on Teddy's desk re-arranged itself to say, "I'll race you."

Teddy turned two of his fingernails into feathers-straight morphing this time, though it took longer than it should have-and responded, "You're on."

Corky, who had the first class period free and used it to work on the Charmer two doors down, was waiting in the corridor. Teddy waved to Donzo, who headed off for his Muggle Studies class, then let Corky lead the way into the crowd.

"You're not going to drop dead on us in class, right?" he asked, weaving through a knot of third year Ravenclaws on their way to Binns. Story Shacklebolt was with them, and he took a moment to make an exaggerated face over his fate, holding up his History of Magic textbook like a shield, before one of his mates dragged him along.

"I'm fine," Teddy told Corky when they got to the stairs. "Madam Pomfrey kept me longer than she needed to."

"Honoria wants to know what made you sick."

"Why?"

"For the Charmer. Fair warning. She'll hound you about it."

"Why would anyone who reads the Charmer care?"

Corky shrugged and led the way to the corridor that led to Robards' classroom. "Eh, weird stuff. Did anyone tell you about the flower in the Weasley swamp?"

"What?"

"Some weird flower-big red thing-showed up in that swamp in the third floor hallway. Personally, I think it was Victoire. She's been too quiet this year. I bet she's getting warmed up for some good pranks, and she is Longbottom's little pet. Or maybe Longbottom did it, just to stir things up."

Teddy thought it was more likely to have been Victoire-probably with George's help-if someone used Fred's swamp to start a rumor, but since he knew what was making her quiet, he didn't think she was actually plotting anything. "So just a flower? That's Charmer-worthy these days?"

"Couple of first years have seen kids they don't recognize, but then they're gone."

"What?"

"Rumor has it, they're all you, just messing with us. You know... morphing."

"Oh, right. Of course. Just like me, really. I love to scare first years while pretending to be sick. Everyone knows that."

"So Honoria's determined to get to the bottom of it."

"What do the teachers say?"

"That first years can't tell the difference between a ghost and a post. I mean, they're nicer about it, but I think they've been around Hogwarts long enough to know when something's actually weird, as opposed to what passes for normal around here."

Teddy thought about the ghosts in the wall that he and Madam Pomfrey had heard, but didn't say anything. Corky was right-if she thought anything really strange was going on, she'd have said something, and someone else would have investigated it, and if it was anything odd, they'd probably have the place in lock-down.

They reached the door of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, and Teddy took a deep breath before going in, trying to leave anything personal outside the door. Corky waited for him without saying anything. They went in together.

Uncle Harry was sitting at the desk, looking distastefully at a man in a black robe with a hood. Teddy couldn't see the man's face. Honoria, who was already in her seat, was looking at him strangely, her quill held halfway down to her note scroll, as if she'd forgotten whether she was getting it out or putting it away. Jane and Brendan were talking quietly. As Teddy took his seat, Maurice blew in, obviously from outside (it was raining, and he was soaked), and muttered something about being sorry for being late, and Dapple, and Buckbeak, and Hagrid. Teddy guessed he'd used his free period to help Hagrid with the hippogriffs, but a guess was the best he could call it.

Uncle Harry closed the door and flicked his wand at it a second time, using nonverbal magic. He dried Maurice off with another wand movement, then came around the front of the desk and sat down, sending their homework papers flying back to them in the same movement. Teddy only had time to glance down and note that he'd got a good mark, with only a few wrong questions, before Uncle Harry started to speak.

"O.W.L. year is always difficult in this class. It's the time you decide whether you mean to go any further with it. It can be a somewhat disturbing course of study." He picked up a piece of chalk and twisted it absently between his fingers. "Something I've heard over and over again from students is how they are inherently smarter than wizards in the past, that they would never be fooled by dark wizards. I remember being sure of it myself."

"Well, you didn't get fooled," Corky said.

"It's hard to be fooled when they're trying to kill you," Uncle Harry told him. "It's easier when they like you. Which is why I've invited someone else to speak to you today." He turned to the other man and nodded.

The man reached up and pushed his hood down. He had pale, white-blond hair and a pointed face. Slowly, he reached down to his wrist, then pushed up the thick black sleeve. Teddy drew back. He hadn't met this man (despite being a fairly close relative), but he had a good idea of who he was, and he couldn't imagine what he was doing in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

Maurice, who'd been fidgeting around, trying to get his things together, stopped dead. "That's the Dark Mark."

Teddy looked at the exposed flesh of the man's arm. On it was a fading scar, just a small one, a skull with a snake coming from its mouth.

The man nodded. "My name is Draco Malfoy," he said. "Are you quite prepared to sit still and listen, or shall I give a brief demonstration to prove who I am?"

Maurice blanched and sat back, quiet, his hands folded on his desk.

"I invited you here to talk to my students," Uncle Harry said, "not threaten them."

"These are your Slytherins," Malfoy said. "They know what I'm doing."

Maurice continued to look down at the wood grain on his desk, but said, quite clearly, "Slytherin solves its own problems now." Slowly, he looked up and met Malfoy's eyes. "We don't let things get out of control anymore."

Malfoy leaned over him. "Really? And how, precisely, do you do that?"

"However I need to."

"Interesting. Good story, wouldn't you say, Higgs?"

Honoria said nothing, though Teddy saw a flash of green as she put away one of her recording quills.

Malfoy looked around, then craned his neck to see Uncle Harry's class list. "Ah, Lynch," he said, heading for Brendan. "Pity your dad squandered the family reputation on his Quidditch skills. You could have been someone now. Of course, a lot of that was Krum's fault."

"Krum's a lousy cheat," Brendan muttered.

"True. And he's done it to your dad what, three times now?"

"Four."

"Four. It's starting to get personal, wouldn't you say?" Malfoy didn't wait for an answer. He rounded on Jane. "And you? A Mudblood in Slytherin!"

"Malfoy!" Uncle Harry barked. "You will not use that word in my class. I don't care what you're here to talk about."

Malfoy adopted an exaggeratedly apologetic attitude. "So sorry. Muggle-born. I'm sure she's heard the other word before, though. Haven't you? Probably makes you angry."

Jane narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms protectively over her chest. "That's a bit outdated, Mr. Malfoy."

"Is it? My mistake, of course." He moved over to Corky. "And look at this-you're really a Gamp, aren't you? She went over and married an Arkerson or-"

"Atkinson," Corky corrected.

"Atkinson, of course," Malfoy said dismissively. "Still, Gamp's a goodish name. Which brings us to Teddy Lupin."

Teddy saw Uncle Harry shift uncomfortably, but he didn't stop things.

"A Gryffindor among Slytherins. Son of a war heroes. A Black to boot, and a Metamorphmagus. If I were recruiting, I think I'd try for Teddy Lupin first."

Teddy's stomach clenched. "Sure you would. Son of a werewolf and a half-blood?"

"Oh, but as Miss Hunter so rightly put it, that's all very outdated. And we are blood, after all."

"I don't care."

This seemed to be the exact answer Malfoy wanted. He smirked. "Yes, I had an aunt-we both did, actually-who liked to deny her family. She came to a bad end. Though not until she'd brought a bad end to-"

Teddy was on his feet before Malfoy finished speaking. He felt Corky grab him from behind and yank him backward as Malfoy was pushed magically away from him. Uncle Harry's wand was out.

"Malfoy, if you ever pull that again-"

Malfoy dusted himself off, unconcerned. "You wanted me to scare them, Potter. A little demonstration. It's not my fault that your godson is the easiest mark."

"I don't do Dark magic," Teddy said.

"And you don't need to," Malfoy said. "You're easy to provoke." He looked away from Teddy. "Don't imagine that I can't see the rest of you thinking that you wouldn't be nearly as easy. Lynch fell into the same trap as Lupin. Hunter does the opposite. She shuts herself down. Atkinson... well, I don't know. I expect he's too confident in his own righteousness, but I'll admit, he's the only one I haven't got the measure of yet. Are you sure you're a Slytherin?" The others laughed nervously, and Malfoy warmed to them. "Higgs at least has the decency to know she's ravenously ambitious. And of course, Mr. Burke here is so devoted to the case against Dark Slytherins that he's willing to address the problem-how did he put it?-however he needs to." He Summoned a chair and sat down close to the front row of seats. "There's nothing wrong with any of this. A bit of healthy ambition will get Miss Higgs a good career, and Miss Hunter will be able to keep a cool head when things go down around her. Lynch has something driving him, and Burke... well, a Burke with his eye on things can't be a bad thing, though in the presence of an Auror, I'll duly advise against vigilantism. As to Lupin, he'd hardly be human if he didn't jump on me for that particular comment. Nothing wrong with losing your temper over an outrage."

"So what's your point?" Corky asked. He was still standing and hadn't let go of Teddy's shoulders, and he was exerting a good deal of pressure.

"My point, Atkinson, is that every one of you has a door in your mind, and it leads to some empty place inside of you, and it's not that difficult to pick the lock. Don't expect the next Dark wizard to try to use the same key as the last one. If I'd chosen Mr. Burke's mission in life, I wouldn't be listening for someone complaining about werewolves and Mu-ggleborns. They'll have the whole Ministry on them anyway. I'd watch for something new."

"Like what?"

"Hard to say."

"And convenient for you," Corky said. "Telling us to ignore everything you did wrong and go looking for something else."

"I didn't tell you to ignore it. I said not to bother looking for it. There's a difference." He shook his head. "Sit down, Atkinson, I think Mr. Lupin's tantrum is over."

Warily, Corky let go of Teddy's shoulders. Teddy glared at Malfoy. He'd spent a year studying Occlumency with the woman who'd killed Teddy's mother. He'd sheltered her.

Malfoy glanced at Uncle Harry, who still had his wand out, and didn't look inclined to put it away. Teddy couldn't imagine hating anyone in his year as much as they seemed to hate each other.

"What was your door?" Jane asked. Teddy thought she was making an effort to make her voice seem warmer.

Malfoy pursed his lips, then leaned forward. His blond hair fell like a curtain over his eyes, and he was quiet for a long time before he looked up. "The easy answer would be my family. Certainly that was what kept me in. It's not an entirely true answer, but it's partially true, at least. To deny the Dark Lord was to deny my father, which I wouldn't do then and don't do now. But that was at the end, when I'd have rather left. Before that...?" He shrugged. "There was pride involved, and there was a glamor to it. We were going to ignore the stuffy, hide-bound Ministry and all of its petty little rules. We were above it all. The famous Harry Potter was nothing special-we were. I was."

Jane pressed on. "Did you think of yourself as evil?"

"It occurred to me that the world at large might say such a thing," Malfoy admitted. "But I decided that just meant the world at large was easily duped by idiotic rules set by stuffy old women. What they called 'evil' was just innovative and daring, outside the bounds of their imaginations."

A cold thought crept into Teddy's mind, a suspicion that crowded out the lecture. What they called evil... innovative and daring... Uncle Harry hadn't brought in this monster to lecture fifth years. He'd brought him to reinforce the idea that stepping outside the bounds of normal magic was evil, no matter how you justified it.

He was here to talk about the Resurrection Stone, even though he'd probably never heard of it or been apprised of the real subject of his little talk.

Teddy's eyes snapped up to Uncle Harry, who was watching Malfoy's lecture with distaste, though the Slytherins, at least, seemed to be getting a great deal from it. He wasn't looking at Teddy, but was he thinking of their conversation? Was he wondering, "Does Teddy understand now?"

Teddy felt his face flush at the thought of Uncle Harry manipulating him as easily as this Death Eater had, and, even worse, at the thought that Uncle Harry seemed to believe him in need of instructions on how to avoid being evil. He barely listened to Malfoy's pro forma advice about looking carefully at anything he ran across-this was first year Defense Against the Dark Arts stuff-and didn't speak again in class.

When the bell rang, Honoria rushed up to the front of the class and started to pester Malfoy for an interview for the Charmer. Teddy gathered his things to leave.

"Lupin!"

He stopped and turned. Malfoy had freed himself of Honoria (Teddy was willing to bet it had taken an agreement to meet later for questioning) and was beckoning with one hand. Uncle Harry stopped arranging papers and moved closer, looking suspicious. Malfoy ignored him.

Teddy thought about just turning his back, but didn't. He went back to the desk.

"We are blood," Malfoy said again.

"So what?"

"So, I'm sorry. About what I said. It was just a-"

"It's all right," Teddy said, looking at Uncle Harry. "I know what you were invited to do."

Uncle Harry shook his head. "Teddy, the world doesn't revolve around you."

"I guess we can't all be Harry Potter." Teddy turned and left. He wasn't surprised to hear someone following him, or feel a hand on his shoulder, but he hadn't entirely expected to find Draco Malfoy following him when he turned around. He pulled away.

Malfoy grimaced. "I offered to babysit you when you were little," he said. "A little atonement. And something of a pathetic payback, but I suppose you don't need to know that. Your granny turned me down. I guess I understand."

Teddy didn't know what Malfoy expected him to say. He said nothing.

"I kept an eye on you, anyway. Read things about you in the Daily Prophet, and even Higgs's little school paper-I have a subscription. There's not much of the family left. Nothing I read mentioned what a little snot you are." He smiled faintly. "I suppose that's pot calling the kettle Black, but between us, that's bad joke."

"Is that why you followed me out here? To insult me?"

"No. I just thought you might like to know that I've talked to the O.W.L. classes every year for the last seven years."

"No one's ever mentioned it."

"I prefer people not to gossip, so I hex the door. You'll find it difficult to discuss as well, and I'm afraid Higgs will find it even more difficult to write about. But whatever secret message you think I was here to impart to your ears only, think again. If you're hearing secret messages in what I said, then you need to do some serious thinking about whatever you're up to, because you've got the guilts about it. I didn't put them there." He pulled his hood up. "That's my good deed for the year. I suggest you get your head in order, Lupin."

He walked away. Students in the corridor moved around him in arcs without seeming to see him, and Teddy wondered if he'd hexed the cloak as well.

He turned back toward the classroom. Uncle Harry was standing in the doorway, looking cross. Teddy took a step toward him, but he turned around and shut the door.

For a long time, Teddy watched the door, both sure it would open and convinced it wouldn't. The latter conviction proved true, and when he went over and looked through the narrow window, he saw Uncle Harry sitting at the desk, his fingers buried in his hair, his eyes closed behind his glasses.

Teddy reached down and turned the doorknob.

Something thudded into him and he jumped. Marie Weasley smiled at him sheepishly and said, "Sorry, Teddy! Are you feeling better?"

He didn't have a chance to answer, as the rest of the first year Gryffindors were pouring into the classroom around him.

Uncle Harry stood up slowly and looked at Teddy with frustration. Teddy backed out of the door.

He had his last period before dinner free, and he made his way up to Gryffindor Tower. He'd been gone for days. Checkmate had apparently been shuttling back and forth between Ruthless and Victoire (or perhaps, from her point of view, between her new friend Oggie and her littermate Bushy), and he didn't like to neglect her. Granny had drummed into his head early on that the family pets needed them both, and not just for food and water. That had been before Checkmate, when Bludger and Quaffle had been alive. As he climbed through the portrait hole, it occurred to Teddy for the first time that she might have been talking to Mum (or yelling at her) about leaving when she had a responsibility of her own. It had certainly seemed to be about more than dragging strings around for the two lazy old toms.

An image of Bludger fighting his way across the garden with his belly ripped out came unbidden to Teddy's mind, and he tried to replace it with the thought of the strings, and Bludger's deep, almost silent purr, and the way it had rumbled under his hand. It didn't work. It never worked, and he always hated it when people told him to "Remember the good times," because they always seemed to think there was some talismanic power to it, and the power had never in Teddy's life worked.

He stopped just inside the Common Room and took a deep breath. This was no good.

The Common Room was empty except for one chair in front of the fireplace, where a redheaded boy with glasses was reading a heavy-looking book that he held in one hand, and writing a letter with the other hand. He didn't appear to notice Teddy. Teddy thought he was one of the third years. There were too many of them to keep track of. He ignored the boy and went up to his room.

"Checks?" he called. "Checkmate? Where are you?" There was a scrabbling of claws on the floor behind him, and he turned to find his cat hurrying in after a run on the stairs. He scooped her up and kissed her head. "Are you glad to see me? I missed you. Were you good for Victoire and Ruthless?"

Checkmate didn't seem inclined to answer the questions. She buried her nose behind his ear and wiggled it against his skin while she kneaded his chest and neck desperately. He scratched between her shoulders, ignoring the sharp little pricks of her claws.

"Victoire wasn't kidding about cleaning up," he said. "I think she alphabetized my books. Did she do that, Checks?" He looked over his book shelf. She'd arranged his school books by subject, his Muggles and Minions books by function, and his Fifi LaFolle collection by year. His face went warm... she'd actually seen all of the bloody Enchanted Encounters books right out in the open. And...

He groaned. She'd left a note in Veronica's Victory: Teddy, may I borrow this one? It looks very good, and I can't fault the letters in the title!-V He didn't think she'd really like it. It was mostly an adventure in the Canary Islands, about trying to stop a deadly landslide that would cause vast devastation, though Fifi had pasted in one of her usual sweet-savage romances. There'd been a triangle with Veronica at the apex, and a dark wizard versus a kindly Muggle scientist, if it was the book he was thinking of. He pulled it out and set it aside for Victoire, hoping she would at least have the common sense to not mention who she'd borrowed it from.

He braced himself and opened the wardrobe. The robes were hanging neatly, filed before shirts, which came before ties, which came before trousers. On the floor, his shoes were lined up by darkness, from white trainers to black dress shoes. At the end of the row of shoes, set neatly against the wall to hold up its skewed side, was the Daedalus Maze. Teddy leaned in close to it. It wasn't thrumming or vibrating, and he heard nothing unusual. Victoire had set the piece that had splintered off of it on the floor of the wardrobe, propped up against the Maze. It was a clean break. It shouldn't take long to repair it.

She'd straightened the papers on his desk and cleaned up the spill he'd caused when he'd knocked against it trying to get to his feet on Sunday morning. Nothing had been discarded. Piles were sorted by type and fastened with different-colored clips. One pile was labeled "Homework?", another was "Stories," and a third was "Scrap?" On the other corner of his desk was the pile of letters Uncle Harry had brought, which he'd never got to. The one from Bill was left conspicuously on top, with a note that had only several question marks drawn across it. He opened it.

Dear Teddy, Bill had written, I imagine Victoire is unhappy with me, for reasons which are hers to share or not-Teddy's mind flashed to the afternoon at Buckbeak's paddock-and I'd hoped you'd be willing to spend some time with her. My aim was not to make her unhappy. With that out of the way...

He went on with a chatty story about life at Shell Cottage, but it was clear that his intent had been to have Teddy play big brother to Victoire. Teddy had never been anyone's real big brother, but he'd had big brotherly duties with Uncle Harry's children, and he felt morally sure that kissing of the sort he'd engaged in with Victoire was far outside the bounds.

Under Bill's letter was one from Granny, which was, as Uncle Harry had suggested, just checking up on him. He dashed off a quick reply, guessing that Madam Pomfrey had kept her out of the loop about how badly he'd hurt himself, or she'd have been up. Under Granny's letter was one from Lily, which was mostly about getting a dog. She was convinced that she'd find one who would get along capitally with Martian, even though James was "vary stuped" about it. She'd also got a new dolly from George, which told her funny jokes every night. The dolly-whose name, Megrez Cassiopeia Deneb Vega Potter, had obviously come from the parlor wall ("Kreacher loves her!")-"wrote," Q: How did the cat Animagus do in school? A: She had PURR-fect marks!

Teddy started to pick up a piece of parchment to write back, then put it away. Uncle Harry hadn't looked like he'd be happy to see letters from Teddy in the children's hands just now.

Under Lily's letter was Al's (very short, as he said he'd been drawing pictures for James's), and under Al's was one from George, which included a run-down of Teddy's share of the profits for several toys Teddy had interest in, either as a co-creator or as Dad's heir (a Metamorphmagus doll Dad had designed had been selling well this year). This gold went straight into a Gringott's vault, and Teddy had no particular idea how much was there by now. The one from Luna was just a chatty note about a new kind of magical bird she was studying in China.

James's letter was thickest, and it was on the bottom. After a brief note explaining that Lily was trying ruin Martian's life by bringing a dog into the house, he went right into the story Teddy had left for him, with Sirius finding the entrance to the treasure room somewhere in Mexico. James had apparently pestered Hermione or Luna for creature books, because as soon as Sirius went through the door, he started battling a feathered serpent that was guarding the trove.

...and he Summoned his motorbike all the way from England and he SWOOPED down, and there were FEATHERS everywhere, and then Sirius got out his wand and he turned the serpent into a lot of canaries (which Uncle Ron says are more scary, but I don't think so!) and... VRRROM! He dropped down through them, and they all flew away, and there was the book that would teach Buckbeak to fly again. Only Buckbeak didn't know how to read, so Sirius had to read it to him. He thought he should teach Buckbeak to read, but he didn't know how to do that. But before they finished, there was a dog, and Sirius turned into a Animagus dog (which isn't the same as a real dog) to fight with it so that it wouldn't scare Buckbeak. While they were fighting, a nice man from the village who used to take care of the treasure until Sirius found it started reading to Buckbeak again, and next thing they knew, he could fly! Sirius took the book and enough treasure to help the Princess at home, but he left the rest with the village, and said they could spend it however they wanted, because it was theirs now. They were very happy, and bought new houses, where there weren't any dogs allowed, except for Sirius.

So Sirius and Buckbeak flew away, headed back across the ocean with the motorbike flying behind them, and they were halfway there when suddenly, the sky got very dark and the wind started to blow, and there was lightning and

At this point, James had drawn a big question mark to leave the next section to Teddy. Teddy thought it might be fun to work in what he was learning about Brimmann, and maybe have the storm blow Sirius, Buckbeak, and the motorbike to Africa, where they'd meet the woman who had put her Blistering Bloodspots curse on Brimmann's crew, and, he thought with a smile, they might even meet up with one of Sirius's friends who would really enjoy teaching Buckbeak to read (which in a James story was well within the realm of possibility)... but he didn't start to write. There was something that had to be done first, maybe before he'd even be allowed to write. He plucked Checkmate up from his lap, where she'd settled during his reading.

"I have to go back downstairs," he said. "But I'll be back soon."

She'd got over her delight at seeing him, and squirmed away to sleep under his desk.

Teddy opened the bottom drawer-its contents were mercifully untouched-and pulled out the Marauder's Map. It showed students leaving their last classes. Uncle Harry's class had already let out. He was headed down a corridor toward Professor Longbottom's office. Teddy put the Map away, then took a deep breath and steeled himself to go after. He needed to know if he could write back to James and Al and Lily. He assumed he'd have to promise not to mention anything, but he wouldn't have, anyway-he didn't think it was his business to get between James and his father.

By the time he got out, the corridors were teeming with students heading back to their dormitories to gather things before dinner, or going to detentions, or going about their own business. He ducked around them absently. On the third floor, he found himself taking the path that led by Fred's Swamp, where several students were tossing in sweets for luck on exams. In the midst of this, he could see a huge red flower that had never been there before, though it looked familiar. Teddy supposed he'd seen it in a book somewhere. He passed by without examining it closely.

Professor Longbottom's office was a pleasant room on the ground floor, filled with his plants and smelling of soil. It was one of Teddy's favorite places in the castle, but today, approaching it was a grim, thankless task. The crowds were thinning out by the time he got there, and only a few students passed him. But the time he was only one door away, he was the last one left. The door was slightly ajar. He could hear voices coming from inside.

"...fifteen, Harry. It goes with the territory. You were a right pain to Dumbledore at fifteen."

"I know," Uncle Harry said irritably. "I thought he was keeping things from me that I should have known."

"So did Voldemort," Professor Longbottom said. China clinked. "Tea?"

"No, I don't want tea." Uncle Harry sighed, and there was a thud as he sat down. Teddy pictured him in one of the chairs in front of Professor Longbottom's desk, maybe the one with the liana vines growing over it. "I just can't believe he let Malfoy see that. Malfoy. And you know something, Neville? He sounded like Malfoy. 'We can't all be Harry Potter.'" On this, his voice picked up a high, whining tone, and Teddy stopped with one hand raised to knock. His stomach rolled lazily over. Uncle Harry went on, now sounding rather plaintive. "I just don't know how it got this far. I don't know what happened, or how it happened so fast."

There was a series of soft sounds, and Teddy thought Professor Longbottom was moving his plants around to water them and get them natural light. Finally, he said, "Harry, this had to happen."

"Remus and Tonks wouldn't want him acting like this, but I sincerely doubt he'll listen to me on that."

"He wouldn't listen to them, either," Professor Longbottom said. "It's not about them."

"You don't know."

"I don't need to know the details. But he loves you, Harry, and he knows you love him, and it will blow over. Are you going to leave after Robards comes back?"

Teddy tried to move away, but couldn't.

"They're sort of insistent that I come back to work."

Professor Longbottom's voice took on a rather amused tone. "You could tell them that you're investigating the 'mysterious visitors.'"

"I'm actually wondering if I should look into it."

"I have my eye on it, Harry, and believe me, I'll let you know. I'd guess it's just some odd time hiccup in the castle. You know Hogwarts."

"And that flower?"

"Could be Victoire, which is what the students think."

"She says it's not."

"Could be any of my Herbology students, for that matter. It's an easy plant to get hold of. A Congolese Fire Flower. They grow like weeds in the Congo rain forest. It's all the Ministry there can do to keep them hidden from Muggles..."

Teddy's head felt light, and his ears were ringing.

In the Congo rain forest. In West Africa.

He hadn't seen the flower in a book.

He'd seen it in the Daedalus Maze.