The corridors of Hogwarts were empty and quiet when I arrived. It appeared that students were still in their morning classes. As I moved swiftly through the hallways, memories of my young-adult life flashed in my mind, as they always did when I returned to the castle that had been home for so many years. Between school and living there afterwards because it was the only safe place from my father, I had a great deal of memories at Hogwarts. Part of me always left them there, in the bricks of the walls and floors, keeping them from my mind because some of them were too painful. Hogwarts reminded me of a time when I was different. When I was in love with Sirius Black, who didn't appear to love me back the way I should have been; when I was a betraying and terrible girlfriend to a man who loved me because I was falling in love with Gabriel, the one person I hated and shouldn't fall in love with. Hogwarts reminded me of Lily Evans Potter; her beautiful face and glowing green eyes. It reminded me of the wonderful person and friend she was. The memories of her always led to memories of her death, which enraged me.

I was always bittersweet about returning to Hogwarts. I was ambivalent about it. I loved the time I spent here, but I hated remembering a time when I thought I was happy because really it was tainted with betrayal and pain.

"Excuse me," said a sweet voice that made my skin crawl with cold tingles. I blinked, stopped straight in my tracks and looked ahead of me at a short, fat woman dressed in a pink dress, matching cardigan. The woman's black professor robes were open to reveal the disturbing amount of pink clothing.

The hair on the back of my neck curled as I took in her thin lips spread in a sarcastic smile and bittersweet blue eyes, that were as cold as stone, with a questioning expression in them. Her hands were hanging loosely at her sides, one was clenching her wand.

"Can I help you?" she questioned with a high pitched voice.

In the many years that I had lived and visited Hogwarts, no one had ever stopped to inquiry as to why I was on the campus.

"I'm here to see the Headmaster," I said carefully with a sharp look at the woman.

"Do you have an appointment?"

I didn't, but I didn't need one. Dumbledore's letter was enough of an appointment. He had asked to meet at some point to discuss the Order's next actions after Podmore's arrest. He hadn't specified when, but to me it didn't matter. Dumbledore knew me well enough to know that I would be on my way as soon as I received his letter.

"Yes," I said without hesitation. As I took in the woman's smug face and bulging eyes I realized who she was. In all my years at the Ministry I had never crossed paths with her directly, but Dolorous Umbridge was not a strange name to my ears. She was the only professor at Hogwarts who would question my presence in the castle.

"Ms Coleman," she said stepping forward, her horrid lips from a cruel smile. "It is a pleasure to meet you, finally."

She extended a stubby fingered hand to me. I didn't take it. I simply stood before the older woman with a glare so harsh it'd melt flesh from bone. When I didn't take her hand, her smile faded and she returned my dark look.

"The pleasure is mine," I said sarcastically.

"I've also had the pleasure of meeting your daughter. She seems a little misguided," Umbridge continued as she looked up at me. I was at least two feet taller then her in my heels. "But I assure you, my lessons will straighten her out."

I raised my eyebrows high. "I assure you, Professor, my daughter is anything but misguided. And if you so much as straighten one of the curly hairs on her head, I will tear you apart."

She stepped back and laughed lightly, a bittersweet and faux laugh that wouldn't fool anyone. She shook her head, causing her grey bob of hair to move around her head. "Perhaps 'misguided' was the wrong word. Troubled is more accurate?"

"Yes," I nodded with a frank expression. "Carrigan becomes very troubled when the Ministry interferes at Hogwarts and pollutes her education to ensure that their agenda based on lies is met."

"Forgive me, but are we talking about your troubles or your daughter's now?" Umbridge said as her cheeks flushed slightly with anger.

"You don't deny it," I bowed my head as I grinned. I stepped past the old fat toad and spoke as I looked over my shoulder. "If you will excuse me, Professor, I'm meeting the Headmaster to discuss the troubles of my daughter."

"I'm afraid that there isn't much the Headmaster can do to aid your daughter's troubles," Umbridge said as she turned to watch me walk away. "I, however, will teach those troubles right out of her."

I didn't look back as I walked away, trying my hardest to ignore Umbridge and not pull a knife on her. My fingers itched to pull the dagger Gabriel had strapped to my thigh and fling it at her…but what good would have come of that?

Dumbledore was in his office when I arrived. I slammed his office door violently, causing him to look up from his desk with raised eyebrows. He set the quill in his hand down and gave me a frank smile.

"I see you received my letter," he said softly as he folded his arms on his lap. His pale blue eyes smiled at me from behind his half-moon glasses; somehow his calm expression relaxed me.

"Yes, but I also ran into Dolorous Umbridge in the halls," I hissed bitterly as I pulled up a chair and sat down in front of him.

Dumbledore smiled meekly and bowed his head. He lifted his wand from the desk and flicked it at me. A tea tray, with tea pot, cups and a bottle of whiskey, appeared on the corner of the desk in front of me. I leaned forward almost instantly and poured the whiskey into two large shot glasses that I conjured. Dumbledore thanked me for the whiskey as I pushed it across the desk to him. He lifted the shot to his thin lips and took it with out a moment's hesitation. I couldn't help but smile. The man never ceased to amaze me.

"How are you Albus?" I asked softly as I sat back in my chair, clutching the shot of whiskey like it was a safety net.

He didn't answer me right away, which worried me. I could see suddenly in his crystal eyes that he had aged, as if over night, since the first time I had met him. For so long he remained ageless to me and suddenly he looked his old age. He rubbed his head as he put down the shot glass.

"I am tired, Cadence," he said as he heaved a sigh. "I am afraid that I do not have the strength for the battle that is about to begin."

"Of course you do," I said returning my shot glass to the desk without taking a sip of it. "You have to."

Dumbledore gave me a weak smile. "I am old, Cadence."

"But how can we defeat Voldemort—"

"I am sure that his fall does not require me," he said quickly to interrupt me. "I think that our fate, and the fate of this country, relies on young Mr. Potter."

I sat back in my chair in mild disbelief. The thought had never crossed my mind, nor did I want to believe that the entire war—the defeat of Voldemort and his evil ways—rested on a fifteen year old boy.

"Preparing Harry for the war is all that matters," Dumbledore nodded to reassure me, and perhaps himself, that what he was saying was true. "Because it is with Harry that we will survive."

I frowned. "Tell me what to do. How to help.'

"I need you to do what you have always done," he said looking me straight in the eye. I gave him a quizzical look before he continued to speak. "Trust your instincts and do what Gabriel taught you."

I frowned. Dumbledore wanted me to hunt down Death Eaters? That was surprising because he used to frown upon murdering murderers. I picked up the shot glass and took the shot of whiskey quickly.

"Alright," I replied to end the conversation. "Tell me about Podmore."

"Unfortunately, I don't think there is anything we can do for him," Dumbledore frowned. He took the hint to change the topic. "Any attempt to justify why he was in the Department of Mysteries puts the Order of the Phoenix at risk."

I nodded in understanding. "And we're sure that Voldemort is after something in the department? You don't think it's a ruse or attempt to distract us?"

"I think I have a very clear idea of what he is looking for in the department."

"What?"

Dumbledore gave me an all-knowing smile, which made my stomach turn with discomfort. He wasn't going to tell me what he knew or suspected. I hated it when the old man kept such important things to himself. I didn't want to be left in the dark when it came to fighting against my father. And I most certainly did not want to be blind sided. I wanted to know what we were up against.

"Very well," I sighed as I stood up. "I will take over Podmore's shifts…and follow up with what you've asked me to do…"

"Thank you, Cadence," Dumbledore said slowly as he picked his quill back up.

"If it's alright, I would like to see Carrigan before I head back home."

"Of course," Dumbledore replied with a smile. "The students should be heading to dinner in a few moments."

"If she wishes, do you mind if I take her to Hogsmeade for dinner?"

"No, of course not."

"Thank you," I reached for the door handle of the office, but paused for a moment to look back at Dumbledore. "Albus, have you given any thought to what 'Cepheus' is?"

Dumbledore looked up at me with a sad frown as he shook his head. "I'm afraid, Cadence, that I cannot find any information on it. I'm not sure what it is or what it has to do with Mr. Scott's investigation."

"Well, because he was investigating it, I'm almost positive it has to do with Penelope Talon," I replied. "Thank you for looking."

"I will keep looking," Dumbledore replied.

I bowed my head and left the office without another word. Despite what he said, I could see that there was a great deal on Dumbledore's mind. If I wanted to figure out what Cepheus was and how it related to Penelope Talon I was going to have to do it myself.

When I arrived downstairs, I found most of the student body collecting in the dinning hall for dinner. As I stepped into the hall, with four long tables, one for each house, and a head table at the front of the room for staff, I did not see Carrigan anywhere.

"Mom?"

I turned sharply on my heel and smiled brightly at Carrigan, who was standing behind me looking surprised. I opened my arms to embrace her, and she returned the affection meekly. I kissed her forehead and stepped back to look at her.

Her blue eyes were dancing with delight, and her full lips were spread in a smile. Waves of brown curls surrounded her face, and moved with each turn of her head. I smiled at her. She looked happier then she ever had at Grimmauld Place, which lifted my heart.

"What are you doing here?" she questioned.

"I got your letter," I replied as I looked behind her to see Benjamin standing close by. "Hello Benjamin."

"Hello Cadence, it nice to see you."

"How are you holding up?"

"Just fine," he said uncomfortably with a forced smile. I saw his eyes fall on the locket around my neck. He stared at it for only a moment with curious ice blue eyes.

"Carrigan, can I speak to you for a moment?" I asked looking back at my daughter.

"Can we go to the Three Broomsticks?" she questioned excitedly. "I have lots to talk about. I need more then a moment."

I couldn't help but smile at my daughter's eagerness to spend time with me. "Yes, we can."

"Do not forget that we have to train tonight, Carri," Benjamin said slowly as he looked down at her.

"I know," she sighed quickly.

"Don't worry, Benjamin, I'll have her back in time."

Benjamin bowed his head.

"Benjamin!" called a girl's voice to our right. We all looked to see a beautiful red-head moving through the crowd of students. She was tall and slim, looked to be about sixteen or seventeen, and had pretty, purple eyes. Benjamin stood up straight and looked between Carrigan and I.

"If you'll excuse me," he said. "Cadence, it was nice to see you. Carrigan, I'll meet you in McGonagall's classroom at seven."

"Alright," Carrigan said as he walked off towards the red-head. It appeared he didn't even hear her, and when I looked at Carrigan her eyes betrayed her. She was hurt by his apparent dismissal.

"Well," I said slowly. "It appears that Benjamin is getting along at Hogwarts after all."

"Yea," Carrigan said. "Let's go."

She turned on her heel and exited the dinning hall quickly. I followed slowly before turning to look over my shoulder at Benjamin who was walking down the aisle between the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables with his arm wrapped around the red-head's waist. I frowned deeply. I had a feeling I knew exactly what Carrigan was feeling. I had felt the same way as she did now when I saw Gabriel with other women. I caught up to her in the entrance hall. She was waiting for me with annoyed eyes.

"What prompted your letter?" I asked to change the subject, even though I wanted to discuss her feelings. I knew that when Carrigan was ready to talk about whatever she was feeling for Benjamin, she would.

"Let's not discuss it here," she said quietly as she peered across the hall. I followed her gaze to see that she was staring at Divinity Jasper. My niece was standing at the bottom of the grand staircase talking with Draco Malfoy, a sly skinny looking blonde boy. I raised my eyebrows and looked at Carrigan.

"Paranoid?"

Carrigan smirked. "Shouldn't you and Gabriel be proud?"

I shrugged as I pulled open the great oak doors of the castle. "I've never not been proud of you Carrigan."

Carrigan rolled her eyes and lead the way out of the castle. The walk to Hogsmeade and the Three Broomsticks was silent. I could see the wheels in Carrigan's head turning as we walked, but once again, I did not want to push her. She was so touchy now-a-days, that I didn't want to over step my boundaries or force her to be closed off to me.

"You can ask, if you want," she whispered as we took a seat in the Three Broomsticks. I flushed and shook my head with annoyance. She was no better then Gabriel when she read my mind so easily.

"If you blocked me, I wouldn't read your mind."

I glared at her this time. "Carrigan," I said very slowly. "I've put up with a lot of your disobedience because I don't want to push you, but frankly I'm tired of it. I am your mother. Please do not disrespect me by reading my mind and then telling me to block you. It's rude and condescending. You may be more powerful then I am, but you do not know more then I do. Years of experience means a great deal more then being powerful. Being powerful means very little in fact, unless you know how to use and control your powers."

Carrigan frowned as she sat back in her chair and crossed her arms tightly over her chest. "I was not expecting that…"

"Why? You thought you could continue to walk all over me?" I retorted with a questioning glare. Carrigan looked down at her lap with a sad expression. She seemed embarrassed and uncomfortable.

"I don't mean to be disobedient, Mom," she said looking up at me. "I'm sorry."

"What is going on? Why are you so defensive?"

"I just feel like I have to be all the time," Carrigan replied. "There is never a moment when Benjamin isn't testing me…when Ginny isn't pushing me to talk…when Professor's aren't breathing down my back about school work…when it's silence in my head. I have to keep my defenses up so I don't go insane."

"Your telepathy is not improving?"

"It's gotten worse since I returned to school," she whispered sadly. "Like it was last year, just like Benjamin said it would…I put my defenses up because I feel like I'm going to explode. I don't want to lose it in front of everyone…they already think I'm a freak as it is."

"What do you mean?" I asked carefully.

"Well, I've been having those bad dreams still," Carrigan said very slowly as she looked at me. "About you being tortured to death. But, they've turned into night terrors. Stuff shakes and breaks a lot more now when I loose my temper. And I forget sometimes that I can hear people's thoughts, so I reply to them as if they actually said something. It just all really freaks people out. Ginny, Hermione, Ron and Harry are really the only people still talking to me. Oh, and Benjamin of course."

She stopped speaking after she added Benjamin's name to the short list of friends she had. For a few moments, she didn't look me in the eye; once she seemed to compose herself she looked back into my dark eyes.

"But it's fine," she whispered. "I don't need anyone but them. So, to make sure I don't loose it in front of people anymore, I put up my defenses, to keep everyone out…even my friends."

I nodded slowly. I wasn't sure what to tell her. In ways, I had experienced some of the same things as Carrigan, but at the same time her experience was very different then mine.

"How bad has it been?"

"Yesterday was the worst," she whispered. "I caused all of the benches to flip in the dinning hall as people were coming in for dinner. People tripped over them or fell off of them if they had been sitting. It was terrible. No one seemed to know what had happened, or that I caused it, but Benjamin knew. He knew right away that it was me. He always knows…"

"What triggered it?"

Carrigan bit her bottom lip and hesitated as she stared at me. "Madison asked him out."

I nodded slowly. "I see…" I said, assuming that Madison was the red-head I had seen in the dinning hall.

"It's not what you think," Carrigan said quickly as she leaned forward on the table. "It's not because I like him or anything like that. I was just mad that he's being a hypocrite. He doesn't think I should have personal relationships, but he's allowed to?"

"He's not in training," I shrugged easily. "Gabriel was the same way about some things."

"Well, it's stupid," she snipped back quickly. "What worries me the most is that it's only been a week. I've been here a week and it's this bad…what if I don't get control of it? What if I am loosing control of everything?"

"You're not," I said quickly as I took her hand. "You're going to get control of it. You have to believe that, Carrigan. You have to believe in yourself."

Carrigan gave me a sad frown with dark blue eyes. I could see that she wasn't sure what she believed anymore.

"Tell me about the locket," she whispered changing the topic.

"How did you know about it?"

She reached across the table and picked it up from where it hung around my neck.

"You're not exactly hiding it," she replied. "You were thinking about it on the way to King's Cross last week. You think that Benjamin may be Penelope's son?"

There was skepticism on her tongue, which didn't surprise me. I didn't know what I believed or thought anymore either, especially when it came to Penelope Talon. There were too many unanswered questions and too many 'if' factors. It did seem like too much of a coincidence that Benjamin would be Penelope's son; if there was one thing I believed in, it was that there was no such thing as coincidences.

"I'm not sure just yet," I responded. "I found the locket in Penelope's stay room at Crouch's. You have to admit that those men look like Benjamin. That could very easily be his father and him as a baby."

"But that doesn't mean Penelope is his mother," Carrigan said as she studied the pictures.

"You're right," I nodded. "I found information regarding a Thomas Snow, who lived in our village ten years ago with his second wife. They were both Muggles. Snow moved there after the disappearance of his first wife and son."

"Maybe they disappeared on purpose," Carrigan whispered breathlessly. She looked uneasy by this news. "It seems strange that Penelope would let Benjamin keep his surname. Wouldn't she have made him change it?"

I shrugged. "I'm not sure…we'll figure it out, though. Did you actually tell Benjamin about the locket?"

"No. I just wanted to let you know that I wanted to talk about it. Dad said I should be careful what I put in writing, even codes can be broken."

"He's right."

"Is he alright?"

"Yes," I nodded. "As alright as he ever will be. Gabriel and I have found a brownstone in London."

"So he's at Headquarters alone?"

"Yes," I whispered. "Remus said he'd stay over occasionally."

"Are you worried about him being alone?"

"No," I laughed lightly. "He's a grown man, Carrigan. He'll be fine."

Carrigan nodded slowly in understanding as the waitress approached, ready to take our order. We ordered potato soup, a half loaf of bread and two butterbeers. Once the waitress took our order and the left the table, I looked back at Carrigan. Her brown curls were rippling down around her face in delicate waves and her dark blue eyes looked worried, as if she was afraid of something that we hadn't discussed yet.

"What's the matter?"

"I'm just worried," she whispered. "About everything. Is there a way for us to be prepared for what Voldemort is planning?"

"I hope so," I replied. "We just have to keep living and preparing for anything."

"I suppose," she said uneasily.

"You're still unsure about this war?"

"Of course," she said quickly. "I don't know if I want to fight or kill people."

"You don't have to kill people," I responded. "Unless someone is trying to kill you, then I would say defend yourself."

Carrigan gave me a sarcastic look, like I had said something stupid.

"Well Carrigan, I don't know what else to tell you."

"Mom, you almost died," she said quickly with a touch of anger. "You almost died. Gabriel almost died. Benjamin and I almost died in June. Dad keeps risking his life because he's irresponsible. We almost died in that alley!"

"But we didn't," I said quickly. "We fought. We're tough. Tough times don't last, tough people do. We will survive like we always have, because we're strong girls, Carrigan."

She looked doubtful, but didn't say anything. Before I could say anything else to comfort her a dark figure approached and slide into the booth next to Carrigan. The man grabbed onto her and stuck a knife tip sharply against her throat. Carrigan didn't move; she froze on the spot as her eyes filled with fear. My heart sank into my stomach as the dark eyes and harsh face of the man in black glared at me. It happened so fast, I was not prepared for any of it, which seemed ironic considering what Carrigan and I were just discussing.

"Carrigan, put your hands on the table," he said sternly as he stared straight ahead at me. I watched as Carrigan did as she was told. "Don't do anything rash, either of you."

"What do you want?" I questioned quickly. Anger and frustration were boiling up inside of me. How the hell did this man know where we were? And how did he know Carrigan's name? My hand was itching to grab the knife on my thigh, but there was too much of a risk.

"I just want to have a conversation—"

"Yea, I know, about Cepheus," I interrupted. "But I don't know anything about it. Stop pointing that knife at my daughter!"

"Answer my questions and I will," he said sternly. This guy had a lot of guts. He was openly threatening Carrigan and I in the public eye. There were only a few other people in the pub, but still, there were enough to be witnesses to the assault.

"Fine, what do you want?" I snipped even though I knew I wouldn't be able to answer all of his questions.

"Why was Scott investigating Cepheus?"

"I don't know," I insisted as I kept my eyes on Carrigan, who looked as though she had relaxed.

He has a second knife on his right thigh. I don't see his wand. Her voice was calm in my mind, which was comforting to me.

Don't do anything. Let's keeping him talking for a few moments.

I can reach the knife. I could stab him—

Don't do anything!

"You didn't trust him, Princess," the man in black said, drawing my attention back to him. Only Death Eaters called me 'princess.' The nickname made my blood boil, which this man obviously knew, because he smirked at me with evil eyes. "I'm sure you followed up on everything he did, that is why you were in the pub that night."

"The night you blew it up, you mean?"

"Your husband caused me to take extreme measures," he shrugged easily. "I didn't want you figuring out who I was."

"Why? What is Cepheus?" I questioned. "Why shouldn't I know about it?"

The man in black laughed at me, but stopped suddenly. His eyes had fallen on the locket around my neck. With his free hand he reached forward for it.

"Where did you get this?" he questioned as he lifted it from my neck. There was recognition in his eyes as he held it delicately with his fingers. I glanced at Carrigan, who responded to my stare as if it were a cue. She grabbed onto the man in black's wrist and redirected the knife away from her. I grabbed the hand that was holding the locket and arm wrestled it to the table. Carrigan slammed the dagger, which was still in his own hand, into his forearm. He let out a gut splitting cry, which drew all attention in the pub to us. People screamed and moved away from us as I stood up from the table and grabbed onto the man in black's cloak collar.

"Excuse us," I said easily. "Had an accident with a knife."

I pulled the man out of the booth and dragged him forward out of the pub. Carrigan quickly followed us, picking up our cloaks as I made for the door.

"Shouldn't serve with such sharp knives," she said to the waitress who had just dropped a tray full of our dinner order. Carrigan smiled and moved quickly behind me, out into the darkness of Hogsmeade.

Outside, I yanked the dagger out of the man in black's arm. I pressed it to his throat, forcing him to stand up rigidly, as Carrigan stepped forward and pulled the knife from his thigh. She also pulled open his cloak to look for his wand.

"Got it," she whispered once she found it in his inside cloak pocket.

"Let's go," I said grabbing his collar and pressing the dagger into his stomach. I guided him forward towards Hogwarts, it was the only place I could think of to take him where he couldn't escape. "Carrigan, run ahead, get Dumbledore. Quickly as you can."

She nodded her head and put the dagger in the harness on my thigh, next to the one Gabriel gave me. Without a word she dashed off ahead of us towards the castle, running faster then I had ever seen her run.

"You weren't interested in what Scott was doing, were you?" the man in black questioned. "You're interested in Savanna Snow."

"Who the hell is Savanna Snow?" I questioned in bewilderment as we walked up the path towards the glowing towers of Hogwarts Castle. My stomach jerked with uneasiness. Savanna Snow? Was it possible that this bastard knew who Benjamin's mother was? And if he did, how did she relate to him and Cepheus? How did she relate to what Mitchell Scott was investigating?

"You should know," he retorted sharply. "You're wearing her locket."