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Cecilia spent the evening with Septimus. Indeed, she had not left his side, nor he hers. They chatted and caught up; Cecilia asked him about how he was enjoying his new school and his explorations around the countryside; he asked her why she looked so thin and had short hair.

"Hacked off because I was!" Cecilia had joked, and they'd both laughed about it. She'd sensed that he was concerned about her and she explained that she'd had a big adventure getting back to the cottage from Durmstrang, "which is probably why Uncle Kay thought I was missing," she'd added when Septimus's concern he managed to form into words. "I've done what work was needed doing."

When Caelius had not appeared at teatime she'd made the effort to cook what little there was in the cupboards (spaghetti hoops, toast and eggs, cursing silently at the lack of fresh fruit and vegetables and vowing the cottage would be brimming full of the stuff the next day). As they ate Cecilia asked him about Snape and Septimus's face turned into a bright beam of happiness as he recounted his exploits, from nearly falling down the stairs from the third floor, the classrooms, the Great Hall and being "haunted" by all of the castle's ghosts in turn and the grounds.

"There's even a place for Mervyn," Septimus had added, having let the small raptor out just before tea. "I couldn't think of a name for ages and then, as Professor Snape and I disapparated it just popped into my mind."

"You have a relative called Mervyn, I think," Cecilia had said between forkfuls of egg, "you'll have to ask Dad about it."

"Cool," Septimus had replied, cutting the exclamation short and falling silent. Then he'd added, "You worked with Professor Snape, didn't you?" Cecilia had nodded.

"Why do you ask?"

"Is he really very intelligent?"

"Very, very intelligent," Cecilia replied firmly. "A genius, in fact."

"Wow!" Septimus had replied, a grin appearing on his heart-shaped face, "a genius! And he's Headmaster!"

Cecilia hadn't pursued that thread of the conversation at that moment; she'd noticed that he'd had an owl, a tour of Hedgewards and been impressed by the headmaster. All that appeared to be missing was Septimus himself, in school robes and meeting the train at Hedgemead Station and joining the rest of the students who's embarked at King's Cross.

Septimus had helped her wash up and told Cecilia how the school was going to be accepting non-wizards, if non-wizards wanted to come and that Caelius had been extremely busy in organising things. Cecilia had tried not to show her thorough surprise and, possibly because she had just come from a highly exclusive educational establishment, how strange that sounded, but she was very pleased. At last, embracing inclusion. Of course it would be good for non-wizards: why should they not have the opportunity to learn about magic, even if they couldn't do it themselves? But how was that to benefit those with magic?

When Septimus brought up the subject again at bedtime, extolling the virtues of the castle and the jobs that would be open to him, according to his uncle, when he went there Cecilia had asked, ""So you've decided to go? Septimus looked at her gravely.

"You want me to go to Princemead, don't you?" Cecilia smiled and held her son's hand and she could see the weight of her words on his shoulders.

"No, little Tim," she replied softly, looking into his brown eyes, his father's eyes, "wherever you go, whichever school, its your choice. I want you to choose it," she emphasised, smiling and taking her son's hand from on top of the cupboard. "It's your education, it's your future. I was wrong to impose my ideas on you, (to keep you away from the world of magic because of my animosity towards it she added to herself). If you want to go to Hedgewards then that's the school that I want you to go to.

Septimus leaned over from his bed and grabbed her round the neck, hugging her close. Cecilia leaned in for the embrace – how she had dreamed of cuddling her son again, soothing his woes, feeding him as she had done that evening – and hugging hr only child close, as they had used to. She was determined never to be away from him again, whatever the personal cost. And an idea struck her, one she would take up with the aforeseen wizard who had been with her son that afternoon, one that would keep.

Once Sptimus was asleep went downstairs, closing his door but leaving it slightly ajar and moving slowly towards the stairs, more because she was contemplating the conversation that was about to happen in the living room rather than fear of waking him.

Here goes, she thought as her still-bare feet felt the polished wood of the stairs. As predicted Caelius was in his chair adjacent the staircase and, as predicted, as Cecilia was about halfway down the stairs Caelius looked up. He didn't look surprised but Cecilia waited until she'd sat down on the settee opposite him before she initiated a conversation, one which she had played out hundreds of times in her mind, each ending different from the last.

"It's good to see you," Caelius began, leaning forward and smiling. His voice was as soft as she remembered when he had been at the door, shortly after being pulled up from behind the veil. His face was soft and neutral; resembling that of Remus so closely then that Cecilia had been convinced he was his brother. She had not known, of course, that she had surfaced in a place and time where the course of history had taken different turns and that Caelius had survived both infancy and Fenrir Greyback's bite.

He didn't resemble Remus now, not the Remus she remembered in June, cares left behind and a new start pledged: indeed, Caelius looked careworn and wrung out.

Well, that's what comes of weaving yourself up in your own schemes, Cecilia thought, of her brother-in-law's indiscretions in terms of honesty. Aloud, she said, banishing the negativity deliberately, and scolding herself, "you too." She swallowed, and added, "and Septimus seems settled."

"Indeed," replied Caelius, staring at her. What, thought Cecilia defensively, what are you looking at?

"Where did you get those from? Not that I know much about fashion, of course." Cecilia looked down, at her mismatched outfit and bare feet.

"Septimus. I burned my filthy ones, and I knew he would have a spare set." It was mostly true, even though she had thought about looking for something to wear afterwards, rather than before. "I must go home and get something else. How did you know I was here? Edgestones?"

"Magic," replied Caelius cryptically. "Once you'd got back to Britain I knew. And I told Septimus. He knew you were missing, you see." Cecilia opened her mouth in alarm. Septimus thought she was missing? Her poor lad! Then her eye drifted to the beige folder with a scarlet ribbon around it. She knew it wasn't hers, but it was enough of a reminder who was holding some of the cards in the deck, despite her resolve.

"Look," said Cecilia levelly, dragging her eyes from the document wallet, "I'm sorry to be here like this, I had to come…I've missed Septimus like you wouldn't believe, and of course, there's Remus – " Caelius's features moved sharply a little " – and – " Cecilia stopped: she couldn't go on much longer under Caelius's gaze, she never could. "I'm so pleased that Septimus wants to go to Hedgewards, Caelius," she admitted. Cecilia knew deep down that this would be the school he went to. Whether he had been coerced, led, had it suggested, felt it was the right school to attend or had just decided by himself was open to debate.

"He's grown so much…I've missed so much of him growing up," she continued. "How long has he been with you?"

"Most of the summer," replied Caelius. Cecilia nodded. It would have made it easier for Remus too.

"His owl's sweet."

This hung between them. Any magical pet bought for an eleven-year-old witch or wizard sealed the deal on them being a Hedgewards student, more binding in the eyes of all even than their letter. She battled with her mouth, which was all too keen to excuse Caelius from overstepping usual protocol, of course, you didn't know where I was. And why am I presuming you'd bought the owl for Septimus in the first place? Remus could easily have taken Septimus…

…but why hadn't her son mentioned that…?

…in fact, he'd barely mentioned his father at all, other than that Remus wasn't there…

…and probably the reason she'd thought this was written on her brother-in-law's face….

"Has he got his wand yet?"

"No. Because I knew you were on your way at that time, I think he knew you were coming, even though I hadn't told him then…"

Then? Then…? Cecilia swallowed, the weight of worry that Septimus must have felt, the anxiety, hit her. She held her head in her hands, the image of the fireflies, if that's what they were, burning brightly.

"Cecilia, you were away. Septimus knew that," Caelius continued softly, addressing Cecilia's bent head. "He knew your work had a measure of danger and, well, of course he was concerned, but I think he knew you were all right, deep down.

"But it's still there, the past. It will always be there…" Cecilia's words were less distinct as she addressed the thin, patterned carpet. "But now I'm staying I'll have to deal with that, I suppose…" …for the sake of Remus, Cecilia thought, her sentence tailing off and silent thoughts replacing it, but I'll have to, I'll have to rely on the fact that, when I meet them Lily will be her usual charming self and it'll take James less than ten seconds to talk shop.

"Things have changed," said Caelius simply.

"Such as…?" if things had, it would be unlikely to be peoples' memories. "Are the Reciprocators still at Grimmauld Place?"

"Sirius is still our host, yes." Caelius said, waving his hand over the coffee table and making a pot of tea and two cup and saucers, condiments and milk appear underneath. "Would you like some?" Despite herself Cecilia nodded her head. She would dearly like more information about the Reciprocators but she bit it back – she may not be happy with the answer if she asked. Now she wanted just a moment to feel the happiness of motherhood, of her family, of being in a place of familiarity before the awkward questions had to be answered and the complications set in.

It did not stop Cecilia from wondering about them though, those people whom she had considered friends, next to family, in some cases. She was about to say something along those lines, opening the vein once more, to draw a line underneath return when her eye was reacquainted with the document wallet under Caelius's brother-in-law's arm. How could she be sure that it wasn't her file? She remembered Caelius writing copious notes when she had surfaced in the Department of Mysteries, mistaken him for Remus and laid into Lucius Malfoy, mistaking him for the Death Eater she had known in the Old Place. It held details of her arrival and, most probably, a record of her reassignment.

"I'm finished with it, Caelius, I'm done" Cecilia said, her tone a mixture of defiance and defensiveness. She knew Caelius and, whether the folder was to do with her or not, Cecilia knew that it wouldn't have been there, between them for this discussion, by accident.

"I burned the lot, all that you hoped I'd bring" she continued firmly as Caelius picked up his arm, its ribbon loose exposing a good wad of parchment and, smoothing his fingers over it, asserted their respective positions. "You had no right to send me there, no right at all. It was for him, Septimus, my son – " her voice loud, staccato'ing the words and pointing above.

" – I have nothing for you," Cecilia concluded, reining in her emotion as Caelius beheld her stoically, as he always did, "except for this." From her bag she pulled out her handwritten pages copied faithfully from the researcher at Durmstrang, Professor Bugge, she had borrowed it from and which she had spent all of one night right up until the dawn of the next meticulously copying down.

"You'll have to have it translated; they speak English at Durmstrang, and Old Wizardish," Cecilia continued as she threw the book over to Caelius, whose hand moved just a little quicker than necessary to catch it. Inwardly Cecilia beamed a smile of eminent satisfaction: just that one movement was enough to show her how valuable he already believed it to be, despite leaving it in his lap, unperused. A look passed between them, the subject of her return closed and Cecilia wondered who would change the subject first. As she was about to ask after Remus Caelius spoke.

"Would you like some supper, Cecilia? I expect you've not had anything since you got back – "

" – I shared some food with Septimus. That was more than enough."

"A drink then?" She nodded and Caelius waved his hand over the low table between them. Cecilia watched as Remus's family's Wedgwood tea service appeared, the fat, stumpy teapot's lip pouring steam. He poured out two cups before waving his hand over the dark brown liquid and she watched as it grew gradually paler as unseen milk was added to it. She nodded and smiled, feeling a little less tense than she had done, as Caelius handed her a cup without milk.

"So, when will Remus be back? Tonight?" Cecilia asked, shifting the topic onto easier common ground.

"Why do you ask?" replied Caelius, his tone remaining so annoyingly neutral as he stirred a sugar cube from the square sugar bowl on the table into his tea. Cecilia got to her feet, putting back down her tea to cool and began to walk towards the window at the far end of the living room, a spot she had stood in all those evenings when she had lived here with Remus, watching the setting sun and praying to a god that she didn't believe in that the potion she was scientifically ripping apart into its constituent parts only to reassemble into a greater form of itself really would be enough to rid the world of Lord Voldemort via Harry Potter. She turned, the setting sun now behind her and she walked back over to Caelius, a knot, a knaw of concern now in her stomach.

"Only Septimus said…Septimus said he wasn't here…is he working? The Ministry? The Reciprocators, I suppose," she concluded, the conversation one sided, Caelius's contribution notable by its absence. Then she recalled something Septimus said, his actual words. He;d not told Cecilia that Remus had been working – "Dad's not with us," he'd said.

"Caelius," she urged. "Please tell me." Please tell me what you're trying not to tell me, Cecilia added silently. Please tell me what you would have preferred to tell me after your night at the Ministry and after I'd had a good night's sleep, as you'd so clearly planned.

"Sit down, Cecilia." Caelius's words, though soft, were as persuasive as a gun to her back. She obeyed unquestioningly. Caelius stood up and approached the settee, standing to right but pointing his wand beyond her and into the space in front of the fireplace. There a scene unfolded, a little like a cinema-film though without the projection screen and Cecilia made out a row of beds. She peered towards the dark picture, trying to make out what Caelius was trying to show her and the scene panned around and one of the beds grew bigger in view. Cecilia listened, open-mouthed, as the vision of her husband, a gash to his head, and bandages around both arms, eyes closed and still was accompanied by Caelius's grave recounting of the horrifying story that had been Remus and Sirius's attack almost a month ago.

As she watched, a healer and non-wizard doctor held a silent conversation next to the bed as the healer took Remus's temperature and changed one of the bandages, which Cecilia noticed was attached to a drip. The group then expanded to include Caelius himself who had appeared at the bottom left of the screen. As with all memory projections the view of St. Mungo's, notably different by its integration of medical experts both wizard and non-wizard, it wasn't in real-time. When Caelius had finished he flicked his wand towards the image, which disappeared.

"I…have to go to him…" Cecilia's mouth was dry and she turned to Caelius who was kneeling next to her, gripping him by the lapels of his tweed jacket. "I must! You have to take me there, Caelius, to 's! Tonight!" Letting go, her mind still in utter bewilderment – whatever she had been expecting her brother-in-law to say she did not expect it to be that Remus was so badly injured because of conjurists that he was in hospital – she got up again, tying to reconcile everything in her brain.

"Look, what good would it do, going now? You've just got back to Septimus; he's asleep, you're shattered...I've got a Ministry shift in an hour…how about I take you in the morning?" Cecilia looked at him, the dinosaur of doubt stalking into her peripheral vision, the feeling that his words were more like what he wanted to her to hear rather than being the crystal truth. What he was saying was sensible.

"They're both sedate, comfortable," Caelius continued. "What difference would a few hours make? What good would it do you, leaving Septimus, when you're clearly exhausted, and malnourished by the look of you, and in need of rest? You could have a good sleep – there are fresh sheets on my bed – and you could go tomorrow." It all made perfect sense, all the arrangements pre-ordained. All the plan was waiting for was for Cecilia to comply.

"Septimus…knows his father's…like that?" Caelius nodded as he got to his feet. Cecilia hung her head for a moment, motherly protectiveness wanting to go up to Septimus and lie down next to him, as she had done when he was a young child, guarding him from imagined dangers in the night. How awful he must have felt, both his parents away from him, one seriously ill and the other missing. He would sleep well here though; Cecilia knew. Septimus had explained that Caelius often had to go to the Ministry at night and that he set a spell when Septimus got up so he would be transported to Caelius, or at least his uncle would know where he was. She had felt momentarily angry by the fact that Caelius left his nephew alone until the realisation that he had done all he could for his protection had dawned on her and made total sense.

She closed her eyes, seeing in her minds' eye the image of Caelius himself sitting next to Remus and holding his hand, indicating, of course, that it was not a real-time view of her husband…not that her brother-in-law had ever said it was…but it could have been interpreted that way; it was implied…it was always implied with Caelius. If he never said it then he could never go back on his word.

"You needn't give up your bed for me," Cecilia replied, shaking her head as she thought of the day that she'd lived through. "I'll sleep on the settee rather than put you out." Caelius shook his head.

"We can consider our domestic arrangements tomorrow. I won't be needing a bed tonight. I can take you back home to get some clothes and things." Taking a few steps towards the stairs Caelius gestured his hand upwards. Cecilia followed, stepping past him and up the stairs but before continuing up she turned sharply and stared intently at Caelius.

"When will you be back from the Ministry? Two? Three?"

"Around then," Caelius agreed.

"Then wake me up and take me to Remus." It wasn't a request, yet the older wizard was far from swayed by fiery demands from Cecilia, and she knew it, so much so that when Caelius nodded it took a few moments to sink in.

"Thank you. Thank you for taking so much time and trouble with Septimus." Caelius said nothing, but nodded his head.

When she got to the top of the stairs Cecilia turned left and peered into Septimus's open door. The window was ajar, clearly to allow for Athenian comings and goings, and the soft evening breeze played with the curtains. Septimus was fast asleep, his covers pulled tightly to his chin and his feet sticking out of the bottom of the duvet. Resisting the urge to tuck him in she turned back and walked along the landing. Cecilia looked into her and Remus's room, or what had been their room in the Old Place. It was as it always had been, sparse and basic, utilitarian, absent of her clutter.

Turning her back on Caelius's room pushed down on the handle of the bathroom door, opening it and closing it behind her. Half an hour later Cecilia hauled herself out of the bath, cleaner and far more relaxed. And precisely three and a half minutes after that, wearing one of her husband's shirts and vowing to hold her brother-in-law to his promise of acquiring some of her belongings Cecilia sank into Caelius's bed, her mind fixed on Remus as the day's events in condensed form flashed over her cerebellum. Moments later and she was solidly asleep.

Looking up the staircase as he flicked his wrist and secured the cottage Caelius's mind dwelt on his sister-in-law, Remus's wife, Septimus's mother, whose appearance ten years ago into their lives had meant nothing but trouble. You may stay Cecilia, thought Caelius, the book she had given him, more valuable than two years' worth of research and something which would remain on his person until he could find a translator he could trust, payment enough for his hospitality. For now.

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