A/N: Yesss. Finally, I get to share this chapter. And it's a long one, too. Enjoy, charmedchick34.

"Fools."

For a moment, Prue thought that the voices had started again, because she couldn't find the source of the voice that had just spoken.

Dumbledore turned around. "Portia. Why do you speak now, when you've never spoken before?"

"Fools!" the voice pronounced. "There are no answers in the past. There is only death."

Prue went cold. The voice's message was disturbing, but what chilled her was the realization that she knew that voice.

Dumbledore stepped aside, and she faced herself. A moan issued from her mouth. She felt faint, and had to cling to the wall to remain standing.

"This is why we forget." Grams helped her over to a chair. "It's too much."

Dumbledore did not acknowledge her. He was still concentrating on Portia's portrait. "If you would only tell us what happened…"

Portia laughed. "Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus, Albus."

"The dragon has awoken. Væe victis, Portia."

Portia's demeanor darkened. "Yes," she murmured. "Woe to the conquered."

"It's your spell, isn't it?"

Portia drew back. "You have heard it?"

"Yes."

"I don't get it," Phoebe said, creeping toward the portrait. "It looks just like her. Why?"

"It doesn't, actually," Leo said. "It only looks like her because you recognize the impression of her soul."

It was then that Portia noticed Phoebe. Her eyes went wide, and she rose from her seat. "Phaedra." Desperation was clear in her voice, along with fear.

Dumbledore motioned for Phoebe to move back. "Portia, what's wrong?"

"I know nothing of the past! I sealed it, it's finished! You are mistaken, Albus." She whipped her head from side to side, then darted into the nearest portrait, jostling its occupant. From there, she ran through the rest of the portraits in the line and disappeared.

"Um… that was odd," Lily said. "Should we try to find her?"

"No." Tiredly, Dumbledore settled behind his desk. "We should explain. Portia Bowen, as you may know, was once Headmistress of Hogwarts. She was also my teacher and close friend. Her soul has been reborn in you, Prue." He considered her.

Unable to hold his gaze, Prue looked down. "Why did she run away? What happened between her and Phaedra? Who is Phaedra?"

"Phaedra was my mother's cousin," Grams said. "She was a teacher at Hogwarts. I never met her; she died before I was born." After a beat, she added, "She was also head of Hufflepuff."

Prue was thrown by that last detail; she didn't understand why it was important enough to mention. "How did she die?"

"She was killed by one of Carriag's followers."

Prue jumped up, heart pounding. "Carriag?" She looked to Phoebe, whose mouth was open. "Did Phaedra write the spell to bind him?"

Grams tilted her head to the side. "Yes. How did you know?"

"We saw the spell in the Book of Shadows," said Phoebe. "Professor"—she switched her gaze to Dumbledore—"was I Phaedra?"

"Yes," he said. "I've known who you and Prue were from the moment I saw you. It took me longer to realize, though, that it wasn't just Portia and Phaedra who had returned. I never met Penelope or her sister Petra; I knew them by reputation only. Piper, Paige," he said and looked to them, "you are Petra and Penelope, though I don't know which is which. Severus, you are Goddard. I never met him; I only suspected you would be involved because you are his blood relative. Remus, you must be Riley. I thought that Lily, James, and Sirius were involved as well, but I was wrong about that."

"Oh. Okay. That's just…" Piper brought her knuckles up to her mouth. "Yeah, a little much."

Paige was dazzled. "I could be Petra Harmon reborn? That's so cool!"

"Goddard Garner?" Remus frowned. "I know that name, but I don't remember who he was."

"The only muggle to break into Hogwarts," Severus said, sounding bored.

James and Sirius were stricken. If Prue hadn't been so overwhelmed, she would have been amused. As mischief-makers, they had to admire Goddard Garner's actions, but their hostility toward Severus was common knowledge. Stuck between admiration and disgust, they struggled to find a response.

Curiosity won out. "How'd he do it?" James asked.

"He had proper motivation," Lily said, and looked at Phoebe. "He was in love."

Phoebe's eyebrows went up. "With Phaedra? All right, but what does any of this have to do with Anton?"

"That is what Remus and I have to discover," said Patty.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. All eyes returned to him. "I have a theory, and it has to with Hogwarts and its houses."

"A preposterous theory," grumbled Grams.

"Mother, it's gaining credibility by the minute," Patty said. "Go on, Albus."

"Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Slytherin, and Ravenclaw," Dumbledore began. "It struck me, the day you four arrived, that Hogwarts has its own Power of Four. You may know that the founders were Wiccan wizards and witches. I sometimes wonder if they were the inspiration behind Melinda Warren's dying promise." He paused. "Portia was a Slytherin; Phaedra, a Hufflepuff; Penelope, a Ravenclaw; and Petra, a Gryffindor. If Piper is Penelope and Paige is Petra, then you four have returned to your houses.

"I know that doesn't seem significant, but I think it set the conditions in place for a present that reached back to the past. Something happened during Portia's lifetime, something involving her cousins and, I believe, Anton."

"There is no connection between Anton and Phaedra," argued Grams. "All you have is that he was vanquished the same year that she died."

"Why carry out a complicated attempt on Paige's life, stab Prue and Piper, and then spare Phoebe's life?" Dumbledore steepled his fingers and waited for Grams to respond. When she did not, he said, "He knew Phaedra."

Grams waved her hand. "Well, we'll find out soon enough."

"About that," Leo spoke up. "I think a Charmed One should go back with Remus. Prue or Phoebe, since they seem to be most involved."

Patty shook her head. "Leo, that's ridiculous. They're not ready for that sort of thing."

"How do you know?"

"They're my daughters."

"And they're my charges." Patty waved him off, but Leo persisted. "I know you want to protect them, but there are certain things that they have to do on their own. I think this is one of them."

"This doesn't concern you, Leo," Grams said.

"Yes, it does," Leo said, his tone and face hardening. "As I just said, they're my charges. And this past was my past too."

Another stunned silence. Were they up to two or three? Prue couldn't remember.

"Whitelighters are shown their past lives," he continued. "I was Charles D'Aramitz, Penelope's husband."

"No," Patty said. "My grandfather's name was John Baxter."

"First husband," Grams muttered.

Suspicion sharpened Patty's gaze. "Mother?"

Caught, Grams sighed. "Charles D'Aramitz was my mother's first husband. I never told you because she barely spoke of him herself. She loved him very much, but it hurt her to talk about his loss."

"The Warrens keep a lot secret," Leo said.

Mentally, Prue winced. That was the wrong thing to say.

As expected, Grams rounded on him. "We have reason. You may have had the privilege of being the husband of a Warren woman, but that doesn't mean you can say what you want about us. Men are disposable; that's been—"

"Grams," Piper warned, as Patty said, "Mother."

Grams huffed. "Fine. Since we can't do anything more today, I suggest that we disperse. Albus?"

"Very well, Penny."

It took four days. Four days of agony. Four days of looking up everything she could about Phaedra Russell and trying to absorb all that had happened. Fours days, and then Remus was ready to go back. The Elders had decided that a Charmed One should return to the past. They didn't want any whitelighters to be inaccessible, and they, like Leo, felt it was time that the Charmed Ones gained some magical independence. Grams and Patty fumed, but there was nothing they could do about it.

They insisted that Prue be the one to go back. Phoebe flatly refused to let that happen. "This is all about Phaedra," she protested.

"We don't know that," Patty said, placing another candle on the floor. Those who had been present in Dumbledore's office on Saturday had gathered in the classroom where the Wednesday lessons took place. Severus wasn't happy to be there; Phoebe, James, and Sirius were not happy to have him there.

Grams flipped through the Book of Shadows. "They're going to the day Phaedra died. You don't need to witness that. Aha." She tapped the page triumphantly. "Damn spell always disappears on me. I swear Petra wrote it that way." She smiled reminiscently at Paige, who shifted from one foot to the other. "You know, Petra and Riley were my favorite relatives."

Before Grams could delve into a story about them, Patty spoke. "We can talk about them after Prue and Remus have returned." She turned to the two she had just named. "Step into the circle."

Remus obeyed, but Prue hesitated.

"Prue?"

"I must be going crazy," Prue said, more to herself than anyone else. After a moment of silent deliberation, she walked over to Phoebe and placed her hand on her shoulder. "I think Phoebe should go."

"Don't be ridiculous," said Grams. "Phoebe isn't ready for this."

"She's just as ready as I am," Prue replied. "And you don't know what happened to Portia in this time."

"Portia lived to be a hundred thirty-two years old," Patty said.

To Phoebe's relief, Leo jumped to their aid. "Death isn't the only possible trauma."

A lengthy argument followed. By the time Leo got Grams to agree to let Phoebe go back, the candles had gone out and Grams had managed to perform her usual rant about men. Phoebe thanked Leo and Prue, promising that she would be in their debt forever.

As she stepped into the circle, however, anxiety entered her heart. She wanted this; of course she did. She wanted to find out what had happened to Phaedra, but she couldn't forget the moment when she had relived the past. Unconsciously, Phoebe pressed her hand to her stomach. Grams began to speak the spell that would turn Remus and her invisible to all but each other.

Phoebe looked down, then at Remus. "I don't feel any different. Did it work?"

Paige's scared expression told her that it had. She wanted to soothe her sister, but then Remus took her hand and told her to hold on to him. Heart thumping, she did as she was told.

The world ripped apart. Forces battered her body, coming from all directions. There was no floor, no ceiling; there was nothing but those forces and Remus's body. She didn't know how long it lasted. Too long. At some point, though, it stopped. The world reordered itself, and she could breathe again.

"H-holy sh-shit," Phoebe said, shivering violently.

"It'll pass in a minute," Remus assured her. He was still holding her. She felt nothing but cold for a while; then, she became aware of how nice it was to be in Remus's arms.

If only, she vaguely thought. But somehow, it wasn't right to think of Remus like that. She moved out of his arms, and he took out a parchment from his robes.

His face lit up, and he grinned. "I can't believe it," he muttered. "Still works."

Phoebe peered at the parchment. It looked like a map, but parts of it were moving. "What is that?"

"The Marauder's Map. It shows Hogwarts and everyone in it." He scanned the map. "Portia's in her office, with Penelope. Petra and Riley are out on the grounds. Phaedra's… there." He pointed at one of the classrooms. "We should start with Phaedra."

"No," Phoebe blurted. "No, it starts with Portia and Penelope. Come on." Phoebe moved down the hall, drawn irresistibly to Portia's office. Only when they had reached the gargoyle did Phoebe realize that she didn't know the password. "Okay, this is a problem. Maybe I could try a premonition?"

"Your powers don't work in the past," Remus said.

"What? Why didn't I get a warning about that?"

"Sorry," he said. "Luckily, my powers do." He reached out to her.

Phoebe stepped back. "I'm not going back yet."

"We're not going back. It's a trick Professor Halliwell pointed out. I can't believe I never thought of it."

There was no reason to distrust him, so Phoebe held on to him again. The experience was the same, but much shorter. They ended up inside the office. Phoebe would have asked what he'd done, but currently, she was at a loss for words.

Piper and Prue were sitting in the office, only they were both adults, and Piper was sporting a large belly. Prue was in her mid forties and had a severe air—even for her. Piper was in her thirties; she seemed as sweet as her future self, though more self-assured.

"You are being ridiculous," Portia chided. "You shouldn't have come here."

Penelope waved her hand, and Phoebe was reminded of Grams. Yes, she definitely was her mother. "I'm worried about Phaedra. I have warned her about the painting, but she won't listen. He's done something to her." Penelope's face was creased with worry.

Portia's expression was controlled, but there was concern in her eyes. "I fear that you're right. She is not the same, now."

"I want to talk to her."

"Absolutely not. If there's even a chance…" Smiling, Portia went to her cousin and placed her hand on Penelope's stomach. "I see great things for this child, Penny. We can't risk her. Or you."

"Warlocks cannot touch me," Penelope said.

Portia's hand went through her, and she drew back. "So I see," she said, wryly. "Nevertheless, I must insist that you return home. Your sister and I will talk to her, and we'll tell you if anything happens."

"You sound just like John," complained Penelope, though she got to her feet. "Good luck, cousin."

"Thank you. Goodbye, Penny."

Penelope went into Portia's private quarters, presumably to use her fireplace. Portia made to leave, and Remus and Phoebe followed her. They kept a few paces behind her, far enough that they could whisper without risking being heard.

"How'd you do that?" Phoebe asked.

"It was a time jump," Remus explained. "A few seconds into the past, so brief it's more like apparition than time travel."

Phoebe only half understood that, but now was not the time to analyze Remus's power. Portia had led them out to the grounds, and Petra and Riley were coming into view. They were telling a story to a group of riveted students. Despite her encounter with past Piper and Prue, Phoebe was still surprised when she saw the past Remus and Paige. Paige was tall and lean; her hair was a flaming mane. She cut an impressive figure. Remus was handsome, and there was an ease to his manner that was missing in the present Remus. Phoebe wondered what had happened to that manner, and if Paige would grow up to be like her past self.

The story ended to clapping. Petra, feigning shock, put her hands against her chest and then bowed humbly. Riley put his arm around her waist, and she leaned into him as the class left with the teacher.

Phoebe could sense Remus's discomfort. Feeling wicked, she tugged on his arm and indicated that they should get closer. He shook his head, but she wasn't taking no for answer.

"There are adventurers among them," Petra was saying.

"As surely as you"—Riley took her hand—"are the most beautiful witch"—and kissed it—"this world has ever known."

Remus's mouth opened, and he blushed.

Petra laughed. "And as surely as you are nothing more than a flatterer."

Riley covered her mouth with his. Their kiss was tender, but passionate.

Phoebe had to bury her face in her hands to stifle her snort of laughter. "My, my, Remus," she whispered. "You have a way with women."

Remus had his eyes firmly on the ground. "This is awfully private. We shouldn't be watching this."

"It's my duty, as her older sister, to keep an eye on Paige. Oi, if Riley's hands are heading where I think they're heading…" Phoebe trailed off threateningly.

"What?" Remus's head snapped up. His past self, however, only had his hands on Petra's hips. Remus glared at Phoebe, who had to stifle her laughter once more.

Portia waited until Petra and Riley were finished before she walked over to them and cleared her throat. "You have many kisses for Petra," she said to Riley, "but can you spare one for her cousin?"

"Portia. For you, anything." He dropped a kiss on one hand, then the other.

"It's good to see you, Riley, Petra." Portia hugged her cousin, and they chatted politely for a few minutes. Phoebe was growing impatient when they finally decided to head back to the castle.

"I'd forgotten they were married," Remus said.

"I didn't think much about it," Phoebe admitted. Mischievous comments tugged at her tongue, but her next statement was serious. "They're really in love."

Remus was too embarrassed to make a reply, and Phoebe let the subject drop. Portia had just opened the door to a classroom; Phoebe knew that her past self was waiting inside.

She wasn't disappointed. Phaedra Russell was standing in the front of the classroom, frowning down at a parchment, which she slid inside her robes when she saw that she had company. Perhaps it was narcissistic of Phoebe to think this, but Phaedra was radiant. It wasn't physical beauty that got Phoebe's attention, though Phaedra was lovely. No, something within Phaedra shone through and drew Phoebe.

But her fashion sense was absolutely atrocious. Canary yellow robes? Ugh.

"Petra? Riley? What are you two doing here?" Phaedra crossed the room to meet them. "Petra, just look at you." She twirled her cousin around and then gave her a kiss on the cheek. "You two never visit." She hugged Riley. Phaedra was very bubbly, almost to an annoying degree. But her free-flowing affection was too genuine to be irritating.

"Well, we're usually tramping about in some wild area," Riley replied.

Phaedra shook her head. "I don't understand the draw of magizoology. But you do good work."

"Glad you appreciate it," Petra said.

"How is your daughter? Is she dreaming of following in her parents' footsteps?"

"Unfortunately not," Riley said. "Right now she's looking forward to a future where she'll waste away in an office." He shrugged. "I can only hope that she'll realize that that is not a good life."

There was another agonizing exchange of pleasantries; then, Phaedra asked what the Harmons were doing in the area. The atmosphere changed instantly.

"We feel it's time for us to become involved," said Petra.

"Involved? Involved in what?" Phaedra's blank look was unconvincing. Apparently, Phoebe had retained Phaedra's inability to lie.

Portia pursed her lips. "You know what."

Phaedra turned away and began to go through the mess of papers on her desk. Her movements were sharp and graceless. "So she's drawn you into this as well," she said, her tone dark. From where she stood, Phoebe could spot something alarming in Phaedra's eyes.

"Phaedra," Petra said, gently, "he's done something to you."

"He would never," Phaedra snapped.

"You've changed," Portia said.

Phaedra threw down the papers in her hands and faced the others. "He said you would do this. He warned me, and he was right."

Loudly, Portia said, "Phaedra, don't be a fool. You know he's abusing magic. And that's at the very least."

The cousins locked eyes. Phaedra was almost snarling; Phoebe couldn't believe the change in her.

"Phae," Petra said. Phaedra didn't look at her.

Phoebe was hopelessly lost, but from Remus's troubled expression, she gathered that he knew what was happening. She ached to ask him, but the others in the room were near enough that they would hear her if she spoke.

Portia pressed her lips together, eyes still on Phaedra. It was as if she was suppressing a statement, trying not to speak some painful truth. "Goddard Garner is dead."

All the ugliness disappeared from Phaedra, and her breathing became audible. "No," she said. She looked confused. "No, I just…" And suddenly, she melted, hitting the ground hard. She was shaking with sobs, and she had her fists pressed to her face.

Petra went over to her, speaking soothingly. Riley helped her up. Portia only watched her, her expression hard.

"A warlock killed him, Phaedra," Portia said.

"Warlock?" Phaedra repeated, tears still rolling down her cheeks. "Why would a warlock—" Comprehension dawned on her face. "No, he wouldn't…"

Phoebe's stomach dropped. Like her past self, she was starting to get a sense of what was happening.

"We need to stop him," Petra said.

Phaedra straightened, wiping her tears away with a shaking hand. "I can help him."

"If he has gone over," Portia began. Phaedra cut her off.

"He hasn't! I'll give him a binding potion."

"And if he refuses to take it?" Riley asked.

At those words, Phaedra closed her eyes. Phoebe could feel the forces warring within her—love, fear, doubt, desperation. "Then I have another option," she said, bringing her fingertips up to her heart. She then opened her eyes and took a hold of Portia's forearm. "Please, Portia. Let me try to help him." Portia shook her head; frantically, Phaedra went on. "If you could do something to be with Evaristus, wouldn't you do it?"

Portia stiffened.

"Black?" Petra gasped. "Evaristus Black?"

Phaedra's smile was sad. "My love life is not the only one with flaws."

Coolly, Portia retracted her arm from Phaedra's grip. "My love life is not the subject of discussion."

"But maybe it should be!" Petra said, horrified.

Riley held up his hand. "Petra, later."

Phaedra opened her appeal to all present. "All I ask is one chance."

"Perhaps she deserves one chance." Riley looked to Petra. "For love?"

At first, it seemed that Portia was going to going to say no. Then, she stepped toward Phaedra. "When you do this, I want to be near."

Phaedra nodded.

Petra and Riley wanted to talk more with Phaedra, but she pleaded a headache and left the room. Phoebe and Remus followed her.

Phoebe didn't need a premonition to know what was going to happen next. She almost told Remus that they should go back, that they had learned enough, but she clamped her jaws shut. They had to see this through.

Phaedra turned down the dead-end hallway that Phoebe knew so well. There were hardly any paintings on the walls, though the woman at the loom was present. And at the end of the hall, where a portrait of a sunrise would one day be stationed, there was a portrait that made Phoebe stop in her tracks.

The portrait was of her, or rather, of Phaedra. She was wearing purple robes, her hands folded in her lap. She smiled at her doppelganger and asked for the password.

Phoebe's reaction did not serve them well. They missed the password that Phaedra spoke, and had to hurry just to make it in after her.

They were in Phaedra's quarters. Phoebe noticed the utter lack of organization—not that she was any better—before she noted, with a muffled gasp, the man in the corner.

Phaedra hadn't seen the man. She was looking at the paper she had withdrawn from her robes. It was agony to not be able to warn her past self.

The man crossed the room in three long strides and grabbed Phaedra, pulling her into a kiss.

Phaedra emitted a sound of surprise and dropped the paper. "Anton," she said once they had parted. "What are you doing here?" Though she was smiling, Phoebe could see that she was uneasy.

"I had to see you." He brushed a stray lock of hair off Phaedra's face. "Aren't you happy to see me?"

"Of course," Phaedra replied, too enthusiastic. "I was only surprised. Anton—"

He kissed her again, but she pulled away.

"Stop. We need to talk." In a soft, calm voice, she explained that she feared what magic was doing to him. As she spoke, Anton drew back, fury growing in his expression. "I think you should take this," she said, plucking a potion bottle from her cluttered table. "It's a binding potion."

Anton slapped the potion from Phaedra's hand. She jumped back.

"Anton, I only want to help you."

"If you want to help me," he said and grabbed her arms, "you will join me."

"Let go of me!"

"You knew this day would come, Phaedra," he continued. "You knew that you'd have to make a choice. Me or your family."

Phaedra twisted in his grasp. It was frustrating to witness; she wasn't trying hard enough. "You're hurting me!"

Anton wasn't listening to her any longer. There was no more anger on his face; there was only wildness. "The painting connects us. Phae, you can't fight it."

Phaedra stilled. "What are you talking about?"

"Your portrait," he whispered. "When I painted it, I spoke a spell that would bind us together and set you free of their influence." Anton spun her around so that she was facing the back of the painting. "The object I have made will take you as its slave. In evil we'll unite under love's blessed sight!"

A fierce pain sliced through Phoebe's heart. It was the pain of ultimate betrayal. "You used my spell against me," Phaedra said, her voice hollow.

"For you."

Phaedra threw off his hands and turned to him. "How could you? I trusted you."

Anger returned to Anton. He seized Phaedra and forced her to her knees. "I trusted you! I devoted myself to you, and you—"

Phaedra slumped forward. Panic surged through Phoebe. Phaedra was dead, she was dead—no, wait. She wasn't dead; she must be using her power of astral projection.

"No!" Anton shouted. A dagger appeared in his hand, and he thrust it into Phaedra's stomach. Animation returned to her as she threw back her head in a silent scream. "No," Anton repeated, this time in dumb horror. He withdrew the blade, and a tortured sound moved past Phaedra's lips.

Anton knelt before her. "Phae, Phae, I'm sorry. I couldn't let you tell them. Phae, just say you'll give in, and I'll call your healer."

Phaedra's mouth worked, but Phoebe couldn't hear what she was saying. Shock had given everything an unreal quality; all seemed removed from Phoebe.

Phaedra was trying to get up. Anton, who—this was the most unreal part of all—was starting to cry, tried to help her. She jerked back. Clutching her stomach, she crawled toward the portrait and pushed it open.

"Phaedra, you'll die if you don't give in. Please, Phae."

Phaedra was on her back, pushing herself along with blood-covered hands. They were outside her room, though Phoebe didn't know how she had gotten there. Remus's hand curled around hers, and then she knew.

Phaedra's voice finally entered her ears. "Love that… held me bound…" Her chest was rising and falling, rapidly at first, then more slowly. "Now become… become… unfound…" She let out a cry. It was pain and despair and defeat in one syllable. She took in a breath, let it out. She did not breathe again.

"Phaedra?" Anton touched her face.

"Don't you touch her!"

The scream made Phoebe shudder. She looked away from Phaedra to find Portia, Petra, and Riley tearing down the hall. With a flick of her wrist, Petra sent Anton flying into the wall. He recovered and threw a bolt of lightning at her. Petra dodged it. Spells were exchanged so quickly that Phoebe felt dizzy—well, dizzier than before. Petra and Riley were well aware of themselves, but Portia fought with mindless abandon. It was Petra, though, who called out the spell—"Incendio!"—that killed Anton.

They rushed over to Phaedra. Riley put two fingers to her pulse point, then shook his head.

Petra sank down beside her cousin, blinking out tears and quietly repeating Phaedra's name. Her hand trembling, she reached out and drew Phaedra's eyelids shut. Portia backed away, eyes moving back and forth rapidly. "We'll call Alana. She can—"

"She can't heal the dead, Portia," Riley said.

Portia looked helpless. "But we can't just… There must be a way!" She got out her wand and went over to Phaedra's body. "She can't go. She can't!"

"Stop." Riley seized her wrist. "A warlock has killed one of your teachers. Do you understand what that means for Hogwarts?" Portia didn't respond. She was still staring at Phaedra. "Portia. The Ministry will shut down the school. Evil struck within its walls; they can't ignore that."

Petra's crying had calmed. She turned her face up to her husband. "That can't happen."

Portia's frozen features slowly thawed. "You're right," she said, controlling the grief in her voice. "We must get her body out. You two will take her to the forest. We'll say that it was Carriag's followers."

Remus wrapped his arms around Phoebe, and she put her head against his chest. It was time to go.