A/N - Alright, so, good news! I'm done with 1) Finals and 2) Spring semester of college (both of these things being largely to blame for the lack of update). So with both of those safely out of the way, we now return to our regularly scheduled story. In fact, updates ought to be a bit quicker, as it's now summer and free-time has decided to return. Now, picking up right where we left off last chapter...

Tiberius stayed frozen in place, watching as Christopher Galvin stumbled further away, gesturing wildly with one hand in the direction in which the trouble waited. Amelia had begun to follow the younger boy, and she might have been talking. No, she almost had to have been talking, because he mouth was moving, and she was frowning, first at Christopher, then at Tiberius. For his part, all Tiberius could hear was the sudden pounding in his ears and Christopher's words repeated over and over again on loop.

"It's Albert! Phillip and Albert! Please, you have to help!"

Surely there were several Alberts at Hogwarts. More than several, even. Probably a popular name, and Philip, that seemed like a fairly popular name as well. Just because the only Albert coming to mind happened to be Alastor's younger brother did not at all mean that the Albert in question would be the same. Certainly not. But Albert did have a friend named Philip, if Tiberius recalled, and...

"Tiberius!" Amelia's voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and Tiberius straightened abruptly, turning in the direction of the sound.

"Aye, sorry. What?"

"Are you coming or not?" Amelia asked.

She had taken hold of the neck of Christopher's robes now to keep the younger boy from outright dashing away. Tiberius found himself suddenly wishing that Christopher Galvin had never made an appearance at all, and that patrol had been nice and quiet and uneventful. Perhaps if he closed his eyes and pretended nothing had happened, the cold knot in his stomach would vanish, as would Galvin, and he would simply wake up in his bed in Gryffindor Tower.

He knew, though, that he was a prefect, and that he needed to bloody well grow up and stop being so ridiculous. For all he knew, he was overreacting anyway. Probably nothing more than a prank gone awry. He was just complicating the whole thing. Assumptions without evidence and all that rubbish. Swallowing hard, Tiberius set his face into the most serious look he could manage (a pale imitation of Minerva's prefect glare, but Tiberius liked to think his was decent enough) and gave a curt nod.

"Right behind you. Let's see what trouble they've managed ta cause."

Christopher was still mumbling something, but too quietly for Tiberius to hear. Amelia seemed to be trying not to listen, if anything. Still, once convinced that he had successfully found help, Christopher began moving again, his pace just shy of a jog, and Amelia had loosened her hold on the boy's robe to keep from inadvertently strangling him. Tiberius kept up easily even at a walking pace, his wand glowing at his side and casting odd shadows around his feet.

Several portraits scowled and sniped at them, and one old wizard wearing a fez roundly told them all off for being out past curfew. Tiberius gestured to his prefect badge, which did nothing to stop the portraits tirade, much to his dismay. The corridor stretched on endlessly, rows and rows of grumpy portraits and locked classrooms. Every footstep felt heavier, and Tiberius could not shake the feeling that he was walking toward something awful. He wondered vaguely if this was how people felt when they were being walked to the noose.

Light spilled out across the hall just ahead, one door open, and Tiberius' heartbeat quickened again as he realized that whatever had happened probably waited inside. A memory flashed before his eyes, Gabriel, frozen on the floor of the corridor, and Tiberius shook his head to clear the vision.

Christopher broke away from Amelia's grip, an impressive feat, Tiberius had to admit, and the boy went sprinting for the doorway. For a moment, he was lit in silvery moonlight, and then he vanished into the classroom beyond.

"You don't think...?" Amelia began to ask, but let the question drop, casting an uneasy glance toward the doorway.

Tiberius knew precisely what she had meant though, and for the second time he considered pretending nothing at all had happened and walking away. He had a horrible feeling that he knew exactly what had happened inside the classroom, and Amelia probably did as well. He was a prefect though, and this was his job, and Merlin but he had to at least try to help.

"Hope not," Tiberius breathed.

The pair of them stood outside the door for what felt like an hour but in reality was only a few seconds. Raising his wand, Tiberius took a deep breath and stepped across the threshold, squinting in the sudden brightness after so long in the dark corridors. Amelia entered just behind him, leaning past for a better look. She gasped, not that Tiberius blamed her.

Apparently, Christopher and his friends had been attempting some sort of prank on the classroom. Half the surfaces in the room had taken on a slick, shining appearance that reflected everything back in odd, distorted shapes. Christopher himself had now knelt down in front of the first row of desks, an even smaller version of himself watching from the charmed surface. Two figures lay prone on the ground, unmoving, and Tiberius swallowed hard again as he forced himself out of the doorway and into the room. The nearest boy was dark-haired and round-faced, and he must have been Philip. Process of elimination, really, because the other person was unmistakeable. His auburn hair had been cut short, his build far slighter than his brother's, but the boy was a Moody nonetheless.

"Oh, bugger, Albert, what've you gone and done?" Tiberius murmured.

Tiberius swore under his breath, running a hand through his hair and casting a look back at Amelia, who had yet to move. Breathing out through his nose, Tiberius kneeled down beside the boys, determined not to panic or react too much at all. He needed to be calm and confident and reassuring just now. He could lament his abysmal luck later.

"What happened?" Tiberius asked quietly.

"We...we were just trying to charm the classroom," Christopher murmured, eyes on the floor.

"I noticed that. What happened ta them?"

"I don't know!"

"How do ye not know?" Tiberius demanded, trying and failing to keep his irritation entirely absent from his words.

"I wasn't with them," Christopher said. "Philip was the look-out, and Albert had gone to check on him, because he hadn't said anything in awhile."

"Usually it's a good thing for look-outs to be quiet," Amelia observed.

"Philip never shuts up though. Albert was w-worried."

Christopher spluttered a bit, and began to sound near to tears again. Tiberius had no idea what to do with a crying second-year and waved Amelia over hurriedly, just in case. She knelt down beside Christopher, going a bit pale as she glanced once more at Albert and Philip.

"So, they're both..."

Tiberius had been about to agree to the unspoken question, until he realized one small difference between the two boys. Philip lay with one arm raised, as though shielding himself, a pose horribly reminiscent of how Gabriel had been found all those months ago. Not to mention, Philip's eyes were wide and frightened. Albert, meanwhile, had his eyes closed, and could have been sleeping.

"Tiberius?" Amelia spoke up again when he did not answer. "What is it?"

Tiberius reached out with two fingers, pressing against the pulse point on Philip's neck. The skin was cold to the touch, as though frozen solid. Definitely petrified then. Leaning forward on one hand, Tiberius then checked for Albert's pulse. This time, he could feel a steady heartbeat beneath warm, living skin. Albert hadn't been petrified after all.

Sitting back on his heels, Tiberius gave a sigh of relief, feeling very much as though an enormous weight had been lifted. He had been utterly dreading bringing the news to Alastor, and suddenly the cold knot in his stomach loosened as he realized he would not have to do so.

"He's not...he's fine. Just unconscious."

"Well then do you plan to wake him up any time soon?" Amelia asked.

"Oh. Aye."

Tiberius drew his wand, tapping it against Albert's chest.

"Rennervate."

Albert woke with a gasp, eyes going wide as he sat bolt upright. He glanced around for a moment, confused at first, and before Tiberius could say anything Albert spotted Philip lying on the floor beside him. Another gasp, and then Albert was pushing away, stopping only when his back collided with another desk.

"It's alright, Bert, nothing ta worry about," Tiberius murmured.

"Why are you here?" Albert asked.

Of all questions, Tiberius certainly had not been expecting that one. Perhaps "What happened?" or "Is Philip alright?" would have been more appropriate, given the circumstances.

"Because your friend here came to get help," Amelia answered. "You're welcome."

Albert considered this, pursing his lips and keeping his eyes pointedly on anything except for Philip.

"Are we in trouble?"

"You do seem ta have broken into a classroom," Tiberius pointed out. "And look ta have been in tha process of charming said classroom."

"But...it was just supposed to be...a harmless prank," Albert explained weakly. He cast a glance at Christopher for support, but his friend had gone entirely silent.

"Can you tell us what happened then?" Amelia asked.

"To Philip, you mean?" Albert guessed. Both Tiberius and Amelia nodded, and Albert pulled his knees up to his chest, drawing a deep breath before he continued. "Found him in the hall like that. And then...then I don't remember anything else."

Tiberius caught the shift in Albert's gaze, the hesitation, and could not say he entirely believed that statement.

"So you dinnae see who it was?"

"No," Albert answered, a little sharply. "I didn't see anything."

"Must have hexed him from behind then," Amelia murmured, talking more to herself than anyone else. "Right."

She stood to her feet, dusting off her robes with one hand and twirling her wand in the other. The mirrored charms around the room began to slip and fade away, running like water onto the floor, where they vanished entirely. Tiberius felt as though she was just showing off.

"Best get you lot ta tha Hospital Wing then," Tiberius said.

Christopher pulled himself up with help from the nearest desk as Tiberius conjured a stretcher and levitated Philip onto it. Albert remained seated though, ignoring even the hand Tiberius offered.

"We're going to be in trouble, aren't we?" Albert asked again.

"Aye." Tiberius sighed. "You probably are."

"But you don't...you don't have to tell my brother, do you?"

Tiberius frowned down at Albert, then exchanged a brief look with Amelia. Technically, all they really had to do was perhaps alert a professor, probably Dumbledore, since all the boys involved were Gryffindors. No rules said that elder siblings had to be informed. But now that Albert wasn't actually petrified, Tiberius saw no reason not to tell Alastor. Amelia, for her part, merely shrugged and glanced away, providing no help at all.

"Think he'll be happy ta know you're alright," Tiberius said after a moment.

Albert began to rise then, shaking his head.

"He'll be upset with me."

"That'd be reasonable, I'd say."

"I'm fine!" Albert insisted through gritted teeth. "And I don't want to upset him."

Tiberius had a feeling that Albert really just wanted to avoid the almost-guaranteed lecture Alastor would be bound to give him at great volume. The brothers had been at odds since well before Christmas, that much was certain. Tiberius had never asked why, and Alastor had never offered to discuss the matter. Albert glowered up at him, and for a moment, the resemblance to his brother was more pronounced than usual.

"Alright." Tiberius was not sure why precisely he agreed. His better judgment seemed to be protesting strongly, but he roundly ignored it. "You're still going ta tha Hospital Wing."

"Fine," Albert said. "That's fine."

Tiberius levitated Philip toward the door, and Albert and Christopher fell in step behind the stretcher, talking quietly to each other in whispered tones.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Amelia asked quietly. "Not telling Alastor, I mean."

In truth, Tiberius wasn't sure it was a good idea, not entirely. But he could think of a few good reasons at least.

"He's been in a foul mood. Tellin' him his brother nearly got himself petrified wonnae exactly improve that, will it?"

"I suppose not," Amelia allowed. "He's going to find out though."

"Aye." Tiberius hoped that perhaps Alastor would not actually find out until summer, when the issue was long-since resolved. "But Albert's fine, so he'll...he'll be fine as well."

Somewhere in his line of reasoning, a grave miscalculation had been made. Someone had been talking, that much was certain. Not Christopher Galvin, who had been all but silent every time Tiberius had seen him, and not Albert, who had wanted to avoid any trouble anyway. Still, when Albert stormed up the stairs after lunch, face red and fixed in a scowl, Tiberius should have known what was coming. Somehow though he managed to convince himself that everything was alright, which was impressive, really, because the tension inside the castle had been growing for weeks. News of another attack had spread quickly, and Tiberius could feel a storm growing that had nothing to do with the grey clouds that welcomed March.

He had gone about his business, and pretended not to be too involved with anything to do with Philip or Albert. There had also been the delicate balancing act of dealing with Minerva and Alastor, because the pair of them really had yet to properly make up. There had been several attempts that kept ending in shouting and, on one memorable occasion, throwing of objects.

Studying seemed like a logical way to distract himself, and Tiberius had just settled himself against one of the beech trees beside the lake, his Charms book open in his lap. Groups of students sat scattered on the grounds nearby, talking and study and generally being more than a bit distracting. Tiberius had begun to tune out all the noise, and thus he did not hear the approaching footsteps until a shadow fell across his book. He glanced up, only to come face to face with someone's fist.

The punch hit him squarely in the nose, but by some utter miracle did not break it. Still, the force of the blow, sent Tiberius falling sideways.

"What tha bloody hell do you think you're doing?" he demanded, squinting through watery eyes in effort to make out his attacker.

His vision cleared enough for him to realize that the fist belonged to a very angry-looking Alastor, and Tiberius swore and ducked away just in time to avoid being struck again.

"I could ask you the same thing!" Alastor snapped. "You weren't going to tell me!"

Tiberius tossed away his book and managed to push himself to his feet. No sense staying at a disadvantage and trying to fight while sitting down, after all. Perhaps thanks to the earlier blow to the head, he did not immediately understand what Alastor was talking about.

"Tell you what?"

"What do you think?" Alastor demanded. "About my brother, maybe?"

Oh, Merlin. He should have seen this coming then. Tiberius raised his hands, sincerely hoping he could calm Alastor down, and quickly. But Alastor's face had gone an impressive shade of red, and he did not look as though he planned to be especially forgiving any time in the immediate future. Tiberius pretended not to notice that several students had begun to watch with interest.

"He was fine!" Tiberius insisted.

Alastor swore and swung at him again, but Tiberius deflected the strike and caught him by the front of his shirt.

"Would you listen ta me for one minute?"

"You know, I don't think I really want to," Alastor growled, pushing at Tiberius and attempting to pull away.

"He asked me not to tell you!" Tiberius tried. This seemed to be the wrong thing to say, because Alastor switched from pushing to seizing hold of Tiberius' shirt in turn.

"Oh, well that's grand. Who's friend are you, exactly?"

The pair of them struggled and shoved at each other for a moment, neither one giving ground.

"I was just trying to help," Tiberius muttered. "He didn't want to upset you, neither did I."

"Who said I'd have been upset?"

"Well, you're not exactly being calm about it just now, are you?" Tiberius countered.

Alastor swung an elbow into Tiberius' ribs, and breath left him in a whoosh. In an instant, Tiberius found himself colliding with the ground as Alastor pinned him.

"How'd you feel then, something happened to your sisters and I didn't tell you? Kept it a ruddy secret?" Alastor demanded, shaking Tiberius a bit.

"You're being ridiculous," Tiberius said, throwing his weight to one side and by some miracle managing to gain the advantage.

"What, you want me to apologize for being worried about my brother?" Alastor snarled.

"Or maybe just apologize for ruddy punching me in tha face!"

"Soon as you apologize for keeping secrets for the git!"

Tiberius had no intention of apologizing for his actions, and said as much, including a few choice words in his response. Alastor responded with a fairly similar vocabulary, and then words were abandoned in favor of a rolling brawl across the more than slightly painful ground. Tiberius took another hit to the side of the head that left his ears ringing, but he managed to knock Alastor in the jaw hard enough to daze him for a moment, so he thought that exchange had been fair enough. Swearing and struggling, Alastor somehow managed to draw his wand from his pocket, seizing hold of Tiberius' shirt and jerking him upright. Tiberius had his own wand at the ready in a single, fluid motion, and for a moment, the pair of them locked eyes, breathing heavily. One word, one hint of a spell, and Tiberius would hex him. Alastor was being ridiculous, and this was self-defense, and perhaps he and his temper needed to be taught a lesson anyway. Never mind that some part of Tiberius kept pointing out that he had probably shouldn't have agreed to keep quiet in the first place.

"Would you stop it!"

The voice drew the attention of both boys, though their wands remained levelled and Alastor maintained his hold on Tiberius' shirt. Minerva stood over them both, arms crossed and somewhere between exasperated and furious. A crowd had gathered behind her, all studying abandoned in favor of what Tiberius guessed had been a far more entertaining fight.

"What in Merlin's name do you think you're doing?" Minerva hissed.

"He knew!" Alastor shouted. "He knew what happened to Albert, and he wasn't going to tell me."

"That's because nothing happened ta him!" Tiberius shouted back, just as loud.

"It could have!"

"But it dinnae!"

The struggling resumed again for a moment, as Tiberius swung an elbow and Alastor ducked and tried for another tackle. There was a loud bang though, and Tiberius found himself thrown backward, landing sprawled on his back and staring up at the cloudy sky. For a moment, he thought Alastor had jinxed him, and he raised his wand, fully intent on returning the favor. As Tiberius sat up, however, he realized that Alastor himself had been sent several feet in the opposite direction. Minerva was the one who stood with her wand pointed at where the pair of them had been struggling moments ago.

The look on her face would have been enough to send any of the younger students running, and a few of the older ones as well. Tiberius swallowed hard, forcing himself to meet her gaze. He was in the right, after all. Well, maybe not about agreeing to keep Albert's secret. But Alastor really had hit him first.

"Could we please try and discuss this like grown-ups?" Minerva asked, her tone icy.

Alastor grumbled something as he pushed himself to his feet, and Tiberius realized with some small sense of horror that this was the first time Alastor and Minerva had really spoken to each other in days. This could not possibly end well.

"Just a misunderstanding, is all," Tiberius said. "We'll sort it out."

"Yes, you were doing an excellent job of that," Minerva replied. "What's this all about?"

"Tiberius knew what happened to Albert," Alastor said again, speaking in little more than a growl. He seemed to have finally realized the size of the audience they had gained, and he shifted uncomfortably.

"I wasn't aware anything had happened to Albert." Minerva frowned, glancing up at Tiberius.

"Exactly." Tiberius breathed a sigh of relief, raising his hands again. "Nothing happened ta him. He was fine."

"But he was with them," Alastor pressed. "And it could have been him!"

"Aye, I suppose so," Tiberius admitted. "Could have been tha other fellow too."

"That's not the point!"

Alastor's scowl darkened further, his fists clenched at his sides. Tiberius felt reasonably confident that the only reason he had not been punched again was because Minerva now stood between them. The air felt heavy and damp, charged and tense and ready, and Tiberius swore he felt a raindrop or two.

"Alastor," Minerva said after a moment. "You're being a bit...you're being a bit ridiculous about this."

Alastor gaped at her, and honestly, Tiberius did too. She ignored both their shocked looks and went on.

"I'm not saying Tiberius is entirely right. You ought to have told him. But still."

Strictly speaking, Minerva had just lectured them both, but it was Alastor who looked as though Tiberius had hit him again.

"You're siding with him, then?"

"I'm not siding with anyone," Minerva murmured. "I think you both ought to be apologizing."

Tiberius supposed he really did owe Alastor an apology of some sort, though he couldn't say he much liked being told to issue one. Nor did he feel especially keen to be the first one to apologize either. He certainly wasn't the one who had decided to go about hitting people. Alastor stared at Minerva for a moment, his expression unreadable as thunder rumbled somewhere out beyond the lake. When he finally glanced back at Tiberius, however, Alastor wore a rather disgusted look.

"I've not got anything to apologize for."

"Look..." Tiberius sighed, frowning at him. "Look, I dinnae-"

Alastor had already turned though, shoulders tense as he stormed away, the gathered crowd parting in his wake. Tiberius stood, dumbfounded, utterly at a loss as to how this had grown quite so out of hand. Minerva chased after him though, even more exasperated than before.

"Alastor!" She reached out and tried to grab hold of his sleeve. Alastor barely hesitated a moment though, pulling himself free easily and not even bothering to glance at Minerva. His parting words, however, were still perfectly loud enough for even Tiberius to hear.

"Thought you were on his side."

Minerva's fists clenched at her side, and though Tiberius could not see her face he suspected she was scowling. Thunder rumbled again, louder this time, and raindrops had definitely begun to fall now. The fight over, the crowd began to scatter, gathering bags and books and hurrying toward the castle before the storm could truly break. Tiberius still had yet to move though, suddenly tired and aching all over and feeling like someone had jinxed a hole right through his stomach. He really had only been trying to help, and Merlin what a mess it had caused.

"He'll be fine," he murmured, whether trying to reassure himself or Minerva he was unsure. She did not exactly look as though she believed him, but then again, Tiberius could not say he entirely believed himself.

"He was being ridiculous," Minerva said again.

"I'd agree," Tiberius murmured, gingerly poking at his sore nose with two fingers.

"And he'll be fine," Minerva repeated. "Everything will be fine."

Maybe saying the words over and over would make them true. That's how most spells worked, after all. Words and willpower. Tiberius was tempted to try, at least, because somehow, he had a horrible feeling that everything would not be quite so fine at all.

A/N - I believe this is an accurate use of the expression "from bad to worse." Exciting and dramatic stuff to come, that's for sure. Reviews, as usual, are great and lovely and wonderful things. =)