Warning: Character death.

(A/N) EDITS: A continuity error was fixed with regard to the bit on the Hogwarts Express. Thanks to Cynder2013 for pointing out the mistake. An error in Hermione's age has also been corrected-thanks to BMeph for bringing that to my attention.

Chapter 14. Trick or Treat

It was September 1, 1991.

Nymphadora Tonks was teaching a nine-year-old with black hair her times tables.

Lily Potter was at work in the Department of Mysteries.

Sirius Black and Remus Lupin were having a chess tournament in the basement of Grimmauld Place.

An eleven-year-old boy with flaming red hair boarded the Hogwarts Express. He sat in an empty compartment. No one joined him.

A bushy-haired brunette kissed her parents good-bye and marched straight past the compartment which held only the red-haired boy. They had no need to meet.

In the months that followed, the two of them hardly even interacted.

Clara leaned down and placed the two candles on the grass in front of the white marble. She stepped back and leaned into her mother's embrace.

The gleeful screams of children could be heard from all over Godric's Hollow, excited at the prospect of another year's worth of sweets.

But mother and daughter simply held each other and looked at the gravestone before them.

"Rest in peace, James," Lily said softly.

"Rest in peace, Harry," Clara said in the same tone.

Hermione Granger was perched, fully clothed, on the toilet, with her face buried in the sleeve of her school robes.

That Ron Weasley is such an idiot, she thought to herself.

Then why do you let him get to you? her reasoning side retorted.

The door to the girl's bathroom on the first floor slammed open. "I told you, Parvati," Hermione snapped. "I want to be alone."

There was a loud thunking sound. A terrible smell reached Hermione's nostrils. She stepped out of the stall.

The next instant she was plastering herself against the wall in terror.

A mountain troll is very stupid, but very dangerous. Not many wizards can face a troll by themselves—

Hermione's thought was cut off abruptly as the club swung toward her midsection. She screamed. With a crunch and a terrible pain, she died.

Lily started awake and pinched herself to be sure she wasn't still dreaming. She rubbed her temples, trying to fend off a headache she could feel coming. It had been the longest dream she'd had so far, covering over a month of Harry's life. A smile played on her lips as she remembered his Sorting.

A Gryffindor, just like his parents.

The smile faded as she remembered how much trouble he'd managed to get into during that time, from midnight duels to fighting mountain trolls. But he'd gotten two good friends out of it, at least.

"OW! PADFOOT! NO! DOWN, BOY! NO! BRING THAT BACON BACK HERE, YOU LITTLE MONGREL!"

Lily sighed and slid out of her bed. Morning at Grimmauld Place had begun.

Breakfast was a silent affair that morning. Remus cast dark looks at Sirius, who looked smug. Clara stared into her cereal and bit her lip, fighting a laugh. Lily glanced between the three of them and shook her head amusedly from time to time.

Tap – tap – tap.

"That'll be the paper," Lily said cheerfully and went to the window. She paid the owl and took the paper from its leg. She unrolled it and glanced at the headline.

Lily gasped.

"What is it?" Remus demanded as he got up, Sirius and Clara on his heels. They crowded around Lily to read the headline.

DEATH AT HOGWARTS!

First-year killed in bathroom by rampant mountain troll!

A picture of a smiling girl with bushy brown hair filled the page. It was a Muggle school snapshot that had been magically animated for the paper.

"'Hermione Granger, twelve, was killed earlier last night, the thirty-first of October while in the bathroom during the school's feast. The Headmaster refused to comment on how the troll got into the school,'" Remus read aloud over Lily's shoulder. He stepped back. "Merlin."

"Nobody's died at Hogwarts for almost fifty years," Sirius said. He looked queasy. Still reading the article, he said. "She was Muggleborn. That's going to make it harder for her parents to take. Less than two months after 'Hey, your kid has magic,' it'll be, 'Hey, your kid was killed by a magical creature'."

Lily shook her head. "It won't matter. The only thing that will matter is that their child is gone forever."

Lily felt a pair of little arms encircling her waist and returned Clara's hug. Oh, Harry, she thought to herself. How different this world would have been with you in it.

Her teeth clenched. Poor Hermione.

Sirius had tugged the paper out of her hand and had finished reading it. "Hold on," he said. "It says here that they found her this morning, haunting the bathroom where she died."

"She came back as a ghost?" Clara asked, eyes wide.

"Apparently," Remus said, taking the article from Sirius and rereading it.

Lily sighed. "I wish she hadn't," she said. "That's no life for a child—no afterlife, I mean."

"Nonsense," Sirius said. "It's Hogwarts, isn't it? An eternity there wouldn't be so bad."

Lily smacked his arm. "She's just a kid, Padfoot," she said. Her cheeks felt hot and flushed.

Sirius sobered. "I know it's awful, Lily. I'm not denying that."

Lily choked slightly. "I know," she said. She swallowed at the lump in her throat. What is that on my face? she thought to herself.

Clara ghosted a hand over Lily's arm. "Mummy, you're crying," she whispered.

Oh. Lily swallowed again. There was a sour, bitter taste in her mouth. Why am I like this? It's only the death of the girl that would have been your son's best friend—

"Lily?" Remus said, alarmed, as Lily sprinted from the room, a hand over her mouth.

She only just made it to the bathroom.

Over the next few days, Lily stayed in her room. Sirius and Remus told Clara that Lily was ill, but they wouldn't be more specific.

Clara wandered along the street toward Phillipa's house. It had been ages since she'd seen the girl, but it was Phillipa's birthday and some gesture had to be made. And so Clara carried a heaping plate of double chocolate chip cookies to Number Nine, Grimmauld Place and rang the bell.

A strange dark-skinned girl of about her own age answered the door.

"Are you here for the party?" she said cheerfully. Clara was confused. What party? The girl turned and looked back into the house. "Phillie! Someone else is here!"

Phillie? Clara thought to herself skeptically. Phillipa came to the door.

"Oh," she said. She looked uncomfortable. "Hi, Clara."

"Hi," Clara answered, registering the situation as a group of girls in party hats crowded into the hallway behind Phillipa. "Happy birthday." She offered the plate.

Phillipa took it and said, "Thanks."

There was an awkward silence.

"It's just a few girls from school—" Phillipa began as Clara said, "I'll just go—"

Both girls flushed.

Finally, Clara said, "I've got to get home. Have fun at your party, Phillipa."

Phillipa smiled sadly, her dark blue eyes searching Clara's for signs of discontent. "Thanks for the cookies."

"Anytime," Clara answered, returning Phillipa's smile. She turned and padded down the steps. She felt the party-goers' eyes on her back.

Someone whispered, "Who was that, Phillie?"

Clara walked faster. The door closed. A few tears rolled down Clara's face, but no more. She and Phillipa had been growing apart for years, now.

We can still be friends, she thought, brushing her cheeks. Just not as much. Suddenly she was in much more of a hurry to get home. I'll bet Padfoot will take me flying today if I ask him.

"What's the matter, Sev?" Lily asked, setting a cup of tea in front of him. "You've been quiet."

"I'm fine," Severus said softly, stirring milk into his tea.

"Is it because Clara's not here?" Lily queried. "You know she doesn't get back from Tonks' new flat until five, right?"

Severus shook his head. "No, that's fine. I came here to see you. How are Clara's lessons going, by the way?"

"They're making more progress now that Tonks is out of school and can spend the whole afternoon with her," Lily answered.

"Good. I wouldn't want her to be behind once she gets to Hogwarts."

Lily laughed and sipped her own tea. "You know that's more than a year and a half away."

"Never too early," Severus said with a shrug.

They were quiet.

"Will you please just tell me?" Lily finally said.

Severus stared into his cup. "Voldemort is making a move on Hogwarts."

Lily let out a breath. "When?"

"Now."

Lily's eyes widened. "Have you told Dumbledore? What are we going to do?"

"Dumbledore knows."

Lily was silent. "The troll, was that-?"

"Yes."

"But that was an inside job..." Lily protested.

Severus looked at her helplessly.

"Severus Tobias Snape, are you telling me that you let in the troll that killed that girl?" Lily demanded, eyes flashing.

"No!" Severus said. "No. Quirrell."

"The defense teacher?" Lily asked, surprised. "He's a Death Eater?"

Severus nodded.

"How's that for irony?" Lily said softly.

The front door slammed. "Hi, Mum!" called a voice. "Hi, Padfoot! Hi, Moony! I'm—oof! No, Padfoot, down!"

"Hi, sweetheart!" Lily called from downstairs.

There was a sound of a scuffle from upstairs, and then Clara came into the kitchen, her hair mussed and her cheeks bright with exertion. She was dragging a big black dog by the scruff of his neck.

"Padfoot attacked me again," Clara said, releasing the dog at Lily's feet and wiping slobber from her face.

Lily shook her finger at the dog. "Bad dog," she said. "Very bad."

The dog whined.

"Much as your flea-bitten form amuses me, Black," Severus said snidely, "I would much prefer it if you could refrain from licking my goddaughter with your disease-carrying tongue."

Clara giggled.

"Oi!" said Sirius, now in human form. "Watch who you're calling flea-bitten, you greasy bat!"

Severus smirked.

"Boys," Lily said. "Play nice."

"Nonsense, Lil," said a voice from the door. "The word isn't even in our vocabularies. Marauders play dirty."

"Moony!" Clara greeted and ran to give him a hug. "Sev is here!"

Remus caught her in his arms. "So he is," he agreed, squeezing her.

"Are you staying for the rest of the day, Sev?" Clara asked happily.

"Well, I don't know," Severus said slowly with a straight face. He seemed to think it over. "Do you have homework to do?"

"No," Clara said immediately, her face the picture of innocence.

Sirius snapped his fingers in front of her face. "Liar," he accused.

Clara ducked her head.

"Tell you what," Lily said. "You finish your homework before dinner, and then we'll all play a game of Exploding Snap afterwards."

Clara grinned and started for the stairs.

"Get ready to lose, munchkin," Remus called after her in a threatening tone.

"You wish, Moony!" drifted back from the first floor.

"What have I told you about flying your broomstick in the house, Clara Alice Potter?" Lily demanded, her face almost as red as the Quaffle she waved in her daughter's face.

Clara hung her head, shamefaced. "Not to do it," she mumbled softly.

"Not only is it incredibly stupid, it's also dangerous," Lily snapped. "And did I mention that it was stupid?"

"Yes, you actually did," Sirius muttered from the side of the room to Remus.

Lily rounded on him. "And you! Encouraging her! Honestly!"

"It's cold out," Clara said by way of explanation. "And I want to get better."

Lily turned to her daughter, eyes full of ice. "We'll see how much improvement you show as a Seeker during the two weeks that you spend with your feet flat on the ground," she said dangerously.

Clara looked confused. "Mum, you know I fancy being a Chaser, right?" she said.

"No, you—" Lily stopped herself. It was true. Clara had always been interested in Chasing. She had never so much as mentioned Seeking. Where did I get that—oh. Harry, Lily mulled it over in her mind. Harry was an impeccable Seeker, the first first-year on the Gryffindor team in a hundred years. Lily practically glowed with pride.

"Mum?"

Lily shook her head to clear it. "Yes, of course, dear. Now run along."

Clara narrowed her eyes. "Am I still not allowed to fly for two weeks...?" she asked, trailing off hopefully.

"Nice try," Lily retorted. "Go."

Clara slipped out of the room, pausing to give Remus a soft high five as she did.

The weather rapidly heated from the cool spring to early summer. The lawns at Hogwarts filled with green and the Whomping Willow sprouted its full summer leaves. Hogwarts students lounged near the lake or in the shadows of the Forest near Hagrid's Hut, discussing the latest headlines in the Daily Prophet—this time, a student's parents and three little siblings had been killed.

Despite the heat outside, the air in the dungeons retained its chill all year. Quirrell pulled his robe further around himself as he turned away from the table with all the potions. He let the empty bottle in his hand fall to the floor. It shattered. He stepped through the doorway, through the flames.

At last. The Mirror of Erised.

"Quirinus," said a quiet voice. "I've been expecting you."

Quirrell whirled. "D-dumbledore," he said, shocked. "What are y-you d-doing here?"

"I should think that would be obvious," Dumbledore said mildly. "Stopping you from stealing the Stone."

"Don't be r-ridiculous, Dumbledore," Quirrell said. "Why would I steal it? I c-came here t-to...to..."

"Too get the Stone for your master," Dumbledore said. "For Voldemort."

Quirrell flinched.

"Oh, Quirinus," Dumbledore said sadly. "I had such hopes for you as a student. A bright Ravenclaw with a particular aptitude for Defense Against the Dark Arts. Alas, it is always such. Those who have such potential in defense often fall to the Dark Arts themselves."

"I'm s-sure I have n-no idea—"

"I'm certain he wooed you with talk of glory. Yes, he always did have a very smooth tongue. And yet, I had hoped that you would see that he is nothing more than a murderer," Dumbledore's tones were filled with quiet disappointment. His wand was drawn but at his side.

Wisely, Quirrell made no move for his wand. "Are you g-going to k-kill me, Dumbledore?" he asked.

"What else is there to do?" Dumbledore asked sadly. "Azkaban has been taken over by your master. So has every other place but here. And I cannot and will not allow Hogwarts to become a prison."

"You could r-release me," Quirrell said. "I would run, r-run away from h-him. F-far away."

"You would be killed," Dumbledore said. "Voldemort would hunt you down and kill you."

"Perhaps." Quirrell stared down at the floor, reaching for his wand. "Still, I would rather have a fighting chance than go down here. Avada Ked—"

A flash of white light filled the room. Quirrell was flung backwards. He struck his head on the ground and lay still. A thin trail of dark red blood trailed from his temple.

"Quirinus, Quirinus," Dumbledore said softly. "Why?" He sheathed his wand and left the room, closing the door behind him.

"My Lord, it is over. Quirrell is dead," Severus said, pressing his forehead to the cool stone at Voldemort's feet.

"He failed?" Voldemort's voice was frighteningly quiet, a sign that he was angrier than he'd ever been. A piece of dark hair fell over his eyes, shielding them and making them unreadable.

"Dumbledore learned of the plan, My Lord."

"How?"

"My Lord, I don't know," Severus lied.

Voldemort's red eyes met Severus', boring into them. Severus forced his mind blank, thinking of all else but that particular conversation with Dumbledore the night after Halloween.

"I see," Voldemort said, turning away. "Go back to Hogwarts."

"What next, My Lord?"

"I have had enough of my Death Eaters botching outlandishly simple jobs," Voldemort said. "I am forced to do my jobs myself."

"My Lord?" Snape breathed. Surely Voldemort did not intend to enter Hogwarts himself while Dumbledore was still the headmaster?

"I said to go, Snape," Voldemort said dangerously. Severus Disapparated.

Voldemort stroked the head of his snake. "I will do this myself, Nagini," he said. "Or rather, part of myself."

"He's getting bolder," said a deep voice from the kitchen. A fist slammed on the table. "He's getting used to power."

"About time," said another voice—Sirius', Clara recognized. "He's had it for ten years."

"This isn't a competition, Black," snapped a female voice. "This is serious."

"No, I'm—"

"Padfoot." It was Lily. She sounded strained. "Now isn't the time."

"Hey, we all need a little levity."

"No, we don't, we need a plan." Someone else.

"You-Know-Who is getting stronger by the moment. He's going to start doing something crazy."

The members of the Order exploded with cries, most of which were a variation of, "What can he do that's worse than what he's already done?"

"You know he's going for Hogwarts," the deep voice interjected. "Dumbledore's been talking of closing the school."

Clara gasped and stepped away from the door. Close Hogwarts? Surely not. Eavesdropping on the Order had been a game of hers when she was little, but these days their conversations were less fun. Despite the brave face they put on when they were around Clara, the adults were scared. And that scared Clara.

"We need to know what he's going to do," someone said loudly from inside the kitchen. "Snape? You've been quiet."

"The Dark Lord has refrained from mentioning his current plan to me," Severus said quietly. "He seems to think that I let slip some detail of his plan for the Philosopher's Stone to Dumbledore."

"Are you in danger?" Lily asked, alarmed.

"No," Severus answered in the same monotone. "I managed to convince him that it wasn't me, but Quirrell."

A growling voice interrupted, "Well, if we're all done making sure Snape doesn't get any scratches, maybe we could spend a little time discussing the possible moves that You-Know-Who's likely to make."

"Well, what's he got for resources?" someone put in.

There was a contemplative silence. Clara pressed her ear closer to the door.

"Death Eaters," said someone unhelpfully.

"Dumbledore's not letting another one of them into the castle anytime soon," the growling voice said. "He's learned his lesson in vigilance. What else?"

"Dementors," someone else said. "Ministry of Magic."

"Those are easy enough to track," objected another voice.

There was a silence. "Werewolves." It was Remus. He hadn't spoken for the whole meeting so far.

"And what do we know about them?"

Nobody answered.

"Do we know their location?"

Total silence filled the room. Clara held her breath.

"Lupin, do you know where—"

"No," Remus' voice answered softly. "But I can find out."

Clara felt a tug at her heart when Lily's voice said, "Remus, no—"

"Not now, Lil," Remus said. "Moody, I'll find out."

"Good. Find out their intentions, too, if you can," the gruff voice responded. "We should all be going. It's late. We'll pick up where we left off tomorrow night. Lupin: good luck."

There was a sound of scraping chair legs as the meeting ended. Clara raced up the stairs to avoid detection, bare feet padding on chilly stairs. She scrambled into her bed, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. What did Moody want Remus to do?

Clara's bedroom door opened and she hurriedly shut her eyes, feigning sleep. Unfortunately, whoever had come to check on her didn't merely glance. Footsteps approached from the door.

"I'm not stupid, Clara," Remus said. "I know you're awake."

Clara ignored him.

"Hey, you don't use this broomstick much anymore," Remus teased. "Maybe I'll just...throw it out the window?"

He's bluffing, Clara thought, leaving her eyelids lightly closed. The window opened with a creak. "Stop!" Clara cried, sitting up. Moony stood near the window, her broomstick safely in the corner where she'd left it leaning against the wall.

"Come on, Clara, you know me better than that," Remus said, a small smile playing on his face.

Clara grinned. "Sorry, Moony."

"How much did you hear?" His voice was brisk, calculating. Remus stared out her window.

"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about," Clara responded airily, trying not to crack under his piercing gaze.

"Oh, so you didn't hear anything," Remus said innocently. "Good. Then I don't have to answer any questions you might have had." He came over and settled himself on the end of Clara's bed, cross-legged.

Clara bit her lip. "Well..." she amended, and laughed. Remus was always the best at getting her to admit things.

"I'd rather you have the whole story than whatever snippets you might have heard," Remus said quietly, his piercing blue eyes serious. "Spit it out, munchkin."

"What are you doing with the werewolves that Mum doesn't want you to do?" Clara blurted.

Remus nodded. "We don't know where they are, or what Voldemort's plans for them are, or what their plans for themselves are," he said. "It's my job to find those things out."

"You're leaving?" Clara asked.

"Yes," Remus said. He sounded guarded. "As soon as possible. Tomorrow morning, probably. Early."

Clara bit her lip. "Why does it have to be you?" she demanded. "Make someone else do it. Someone without a family."

"Oh, sweetie," Remus said. "Everyone has someone that loves them."

Clara blinked back tears. "But Mum and Padfoot and me...we couldn't live without you. Not for long. Not if you didn't...come home."

Remus put a hand on her knee. "You have far too old a soul," he whispered.

"Don't lie to me and tell me that there's no possibility that you might not come home," Clara said thickly, still fighting tears.

"I won't," Remus said softly. Clara let out a gasping breath that was almost a sob. "You know that I'm the only one who can do this."

"Why?"

"The werewolves are a suspicious people. The grudges they hold are lifelong. Their minds are twisted into believing that wizards, in general, exist only as their adversaries. In some ways, they are justified, but we won't talk about that now," Remus said. "They wouldn't trust anyone but one of their own kind, not with the plans for their future as a pack."

Clara frowned. "Why will they trust you? You betrayed them, remember? When I was little, you saved Emmeline Vance from them."

"I hope they've forgotten," Remus said.

"You said werewolves hold grudges for lifetimes," Clara objected.

To that, Remus had no answer.

"I love you, Moony," Clara said.

Remus offered her a watery smile. "Love you too."

A brown rucksack, non-descript, sat next to the door with a dull green cloak on top of it. Clara paused at the top of the stairs. There were voices emanating softly from below, in a tone the adults of the household only used when they didn't want certain little ears to hear.

"I can get...Cloak from Dumble...you want," Lily was murmuring, some of her words lost into a tone too quiet to reach Clara's ears.

"No," Remus answered. "The less magic I...the better."

What Cloak? Clara wondered. He already has a cloak.

"Hmm," said Sirius speculatively, full tone. "It might interest you to know that we now have an audience."

Clara immediately acted like she hadn't been leaning over the rail, straining to hear their words.

"Eavesdropping is a bad habit," Remus said with a smile as she reached the main level of the house.

"What are you talking about?" Clara said innocently, the effect totally ruined by the impish grin on her face.

"Oh, you," Sirius said without his usual joking tone.

The hallway was gloomily lit with early morning light. Clara suspected that none of the three adults had slept at all. None of them had a genuine smile on. Clara had the disconcerting feeling that the atmosphere was rather like that of a funeral.

Remus glanced out the window at the sun, which had begun to peek over the horizon. "I have to go," he said quietly.

Sirius was the first to step forward. He gripped Remus' hand, and then pulled him roughly into a hug. They wrestled to and fro. "See you soon, Moony," Sirius said lightly, pulling away. He met his friend's eyes, conveying his true goodbye.

Lily pulled Moony into a hug. "Take care," she whispered. Her eyes were filled with tears.

Clara felt a pit in her stomach. They were acting like Remus was going to die, and he was letting them. The only reason for that was that it was more than likely that he would be killed.

Remus held out his arms for Clara, and she slipped into them. "Moony, I—" she started. She swallowed, trying to rid herself of the lump in her throat. "Moony—" she tried again. She looked up into his eyes. They were warm and soft with understanding. "Kick some werewolf arse," she said finally.

Remus burst out laughing, a true smile lighting his face for the first time since he'd decided to go. "Sweet Merlin, Clara," he said. "What on earth would I do without you?"

"Promise you will," Clara said.

"I will," Remus said. He squeezed her. Clara squeezed right back, putting everything left unsaid into the hug. They had said everything that needed to be said last night.

Remus broke away and picked up his rucksack. He slid his cloak over his shoulder and opened the front door. "Love you all," he said.

"Love you," chorused the other three. Clara was under her mother's arm. She stared after Remus and shook when the door shut.

"He'll come back," Clara said softly.

The adults looked at her. Lily started to say, "Clara—"

"I know he might die, Mum," Clara headed her off. "But I trust him to come back."

(A/N) I know. I killed Hermione. I'm going into hiding now—please don't try to kill me.

All jokes aside, though, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Stay tuned for some werewolf shenanigans, and review if you get the chance!