The last exam of the week, that Friday, was transfigurations. McGonagall, unlike Funke, did not let us leave as we finished (not that most people were done early anyways). Instead, when time was finally up, we turned in our exams to 3 separate boxes: one for the written portion, one for the mice which each had a tag with our names around the neck (they had been marbles when we started), and one for the metal rings which were also tagged with our names (they had been newts when we started).

"Stay a moment, Miss Pokeby," McGonagall said quietly when I dropped my cute little brown mouse into the box. I stepped to the side. Lily, behind me, gave me a questioning look but passed in her exam and followed the rest of the students out. Remus, too, looked like he might hover. "Mister Lupin, I assure you, she'll be returned in one piece," McGonagall said drily.

McGonagall led me to Dumbledore's office, for a brief meeting she said. We strolled at a leisurely pace.

"Have you heard from Octavius about your work-study this summer?" McGonagall asked. I nearly fell over my feet in surprise.

"You know each other?" I asked. "You know I'll be working with him?"

"Quite well, and yes," McGonagall said, sighing as we passed an open window.

"Professor!" I gasped, scandalized. She glanced at me before chuckling. "Not that well, Miss Pokeby," she said.

"Oh good," I said faintly. "And I have heard from him. I sent him an owl this morning, in fact - James let me borrow his owl - to confirm that my starting day will be in two weeks. He wanted to give me at least a week at home, he said."

"That will be a wonderful opportunity," McGonagall said. "Battered toffee," she added for the gargoyle's sake.

I expected Dumbledore in the office - obviously it was his office - but I didn't expect the others. Professor Savage, Professor Funke, my grandmother...and Octavius Bliss.

"Welcome," Dumbledore beamed at me. "I trust your exams went well?"

"Er," I dutifully pecked my grandmother on the cheek. "Hullo. Yes, I think I did pretty well on my exams."

"Good, good," Dumbledore said. "Now, as I'm sure you have something planned to celebrate the end of the year, we'll get straight to the points."

"Point?" I said weakly.

"Indeed," McGonagall said.

Dumbledore waved his wand, and two more chairs appeared. It was a bit cozier than I would have liked - there really wasn't that much space around his desk, but McGonagall and I sat besides the others anyway.

"First," my grandmother said in her dry, crisp voice, "you need to know that this is all a choice, Genre Amelia. You can choose to say no and it will not be held against you."

"It certainly won't," Dumbledore assured me.

"Okay," I said. (I'm sure they were all impressed by my wit, but truly, I had no sodding idea what was going on.)

"Now, as we're all aware, under Minerva's tutelage you've become quite an accomplished animagus," Dumbledore continued. That was news to me - that they all knew, other than McGonagall and Dumbledore I mean. And that I was 'accomplished'. "And you have proven, several times, that you are dedicated to moral actions."

"Hold on!" I cried, my brain surpassing its usually post-exam mush. "Not that I don't appreciate the flattery, but -"

"Hush, don't interrupt," Grandmother commanded.

"You sent for help immediately upon discovering a student in peril at the beginning of the year," McGonagall pointed out. "And, despite being conflicted by the desire to keep you brother and sister out of trouble, you did the right thing and came to me."

"You cast a shield charm so strong we had to repair part of the floor," Savage added. I gulped. I hadn't known that. "And then created something that could help others cast certain defensive magics." I recognized the small whorl of wood he held up. That was the one that helped Mary, Linda and I cast Patronuses (because of course Lily hadn't needed the help).

"And that was all to protect a girl whom you barely tolerated, and against uneven odds." My grandmother gazed at me fondly, reaching forward to pat my hand. "You're so like your grandfather, dear."

Any second now, I realized, the floor was going to open up and swallow me whole. Because this was not happening.

"So clearly your bravery and loyalty aren't in question," Dumbledore said. "And Garamond says your passably good at Ancient Runes and will probably be a good hand at coding."

"It'll take some work," Funke grunted, "but obviously that's not something you're afraid of."

"The world outside of Hogwarts is a dangerous place." Octavius leaned forward, his rheumy eyes peering at me over his hooked nose. "You know that better than most, Genre, and it hasn't turned you. More losses than most, more pain and uncertainty. But you keep charging ahead. And now there's something you can do. Something big."

"Oy," I said weakly, "what is happening?"

"This summer, while you're working with Octavius, we want you to help us with something. We're part of a group, you see, that helps...well, not fight, maybe, but defend others against the Dark Lord." Funke picked at his fingernails, seeming disinterested in what he was saying. "You can change into a small animal - a fox, Minerva says - which can go unnoticed. You can deliver and retrieve coded messages, which I will teach you to transcribe and translate."

"And," Octavius cut in, "I think we can maybe create more of your charms for Savage here. He's got some ideas about where they can be best used."

"You don't have to answer now," my grandmother said. "In fact, we all insist you take the two weeks at home to think about it before answering. This is serious. It will be dangerous."

"And you're okay with it?" I asked my grandmother, but then turned to everyone. "You actually think I can do this?"

"We think you're uniquely suited to it," Dumbledore said kindly. "We know you can do it."

"Dear," my grandmother said softly, "I'm never okay with you being in harm's way. But you will be, even here, and there's more at stake than even just you." She cupped my cheek with her hand and then sighed. "So much like dear Fletcher. I wish I'd seen it earlier."

I was dismissed with an order to think about it, not repeat the discussion to anyone, and to think on it carefully. The professors, my grandmother, and my soon-to-be employer stayed to discuss it some more. On my walk back, I stopped in the second-floor restroom and tried to ignore the sniffling from one of the stalls (Myrtle, I presumed).

My hair was mussed, parted crookedly on the wrong side and falling in tangles over my left shoulder. My face, somewhere between round and oval, was paler than usual. And my eyes were brighter and larger than usual. My lips seemed to be permanently parted in surprise thanks to that conversation. And Stan's stupid sweater hung off my shoulders like the old rag it is. I didn't look like a spy or a brave witch or a smart, industrious student. I looked young and innocent and scared.

I stood in front of the mirror long enough that the giant clock tolled the next hour before I moved. I needed to look normal again before meeting up with my friends, and it was so hard to picture how I'd looked before this afternoon. I'd felt confident and a bit chipper. But how could I look like that now?

Part of Mary's grand plan was for all of us to skip dinner and head directly to the special room, so instead of trying to act the part for my friends in the common room until such time, I headed to the special room instead. Plus, I was supposed to take care of decorations.

It was good, mindless work and I was feeling more and more relaxed as the next hour (when was the party, again?) passed by. When I went to charm some streamers to hang on the ceiling, the room formed them on its own, so I found myself walking from corner to corner and imaging more and more ridiculous decorations, all of which were realized by the room itself. When I grew concerned that Lily and Mary, and possibly Linda, were going to get all dressed up, a black silk tee shirt appeared folded on the ground beside me. I stripped off the sweater and bra I had on, and pulled the tee shirt over my head instead. It slid over my skin so softly I barely felt it. It was just in time, too, because the door cracked open just as I smoothed my hair out (thank you, room, for the brush).

"Genre!" Lily smiled. "We figured you must've been late at your meeting with McGonagall so we were going to set up instead."

"No need," I smiled back. The hour of decorating had done me good. I sank into a facade of my old self easily.

"Wicked," Mary said, craning her neck to look around at the strings of beads I added to the streamers.

"Thanks," I flopped onto one of the big bean bags on the floor (red and gold, of course). Lily climbed on with me, and opened the bag she had slung over her shoulder.

"Cards, some dice," Lily muttered, digging into it reverently and piling more and more miscellaneous objects beside her.

"Blimey, Lily, you took game-gathering seriously, didn't you?" Mary rolled her eyes. "Where should I set up the fo- oh, there's a table. Great." Mary opened her own bag, which had clearly been charmed as she drew full platters and bowls of different treats, laying them on the table which sported a red-fringed gold table runner and hadn't been there a moment ago.

"So, now we wait until the boys get here." Lily sighed and laid back, before shooting back up and patting her hair to be sure she hadn't messed it up. "Got poked by a bobby-pin," she muttered to me, "Mary used so many - lucky you weren't there. Anyway, how did you feel exams went?"

The last part was said louder, and Mary groaned loudly. "No! No exam talk! You already went over every question on every exam with me and Linda I. No more!"

The four of us snacked on bonbons and rolls while we waited for the boys. I didn't have much of an appetite, but nibbled on the roll every time one of them looked my way. When the door creaked open again, we were just getting started on the topic of whether or not celebrity witches and wizards should use magical enhancements.

"I'm just saying," Lily said, "if a man is attractive enough to model, he shouldn't need to use potions and charms to make his skin appear flawless! We all know he has pores!"

"Excuse you," Mary interrupted flippantly. "I prefer, you know," she flicked her finger suggestively, "to supreme attractiveness. They can use whatever enhancements they like, as far as I'm concerned."

"What?" Sirius sounded delighted. Mary, who apparently hadn't heard the boys come in, squeaked and turned bright red. "Is this something you talk about all the time?"

Each of the boys carried a box, and as they began unloading them (onto the floor beside us instead of the table - such a male thing to do), Sirius continued. "I mean, I figured you birds had girl talk you hid from us, but this?"

"Shut up, already!" Mary threw her shoe at him. "Like you guys never have a good wank!"

"Yeah, but we don't talk about it," Peter chortled. He looked excited about the topic and rubbed his hands together after unloading the last of his bottles.

"No?" I tried to lift one eyebrow, but I'm sure both went up. "I think we can hazard a guess. James probably has a whole Lily shrine."

Mary interrupted with "And Sirius probably turns his knob to any twit with a pair on her chest!"

Lily cleared her throat, and when I looked at her, she tilted her head towards Linda who looked decidedly uncomfortable. Oh, yeah. This was obviously an insensitive conversation given Linda's year.

"So," Lily said loudly, talking over Mary who was still going, "how did your meeting go, Genre?"

"Oh, just fine," I said airily and avoided looking anyone in the eye, falling back to stare at the ceiling instead. "It was just about this summer - Octavius needed to get me written permission to use magic until I'm seventeen and all."

"You're still sixteen?" Remus tilted his head to the side.

"Enough talk," James declared, knocking Remus down so they could all sit around with us. "Drinks, food, and games!"

"Hear, hear!" Sirius and Peter cheered.

Maybe because I'd had so little to eat, or because I wasn't feeling myself, the liquor went straight to my head. When they finally got down to playing Truth or Dare (no stripping or snogging, Lily's rules, and everything had to stay in this room), I sat sideways with my head on Lily's shoulder and my legs sprawled over Remus's lap to where I could kick Sirius whenever he made a particularly raunchy comment. He, in retaliation, tickled my feet for each kick and nearly caused Remus a bloody nose when my leg jerked up spasmodically.

"Sure you don't want to play?" Lily asked after three rounds.

"Mm, too drunk to play," I answered.

Sirius tickled my feet again. I drew them up all the wait into Remus's lap. "Make him stop," I commanded. Remus snorted, and leaned his chin on my knees so he could spin the bottle. It landed on Lily.

"Truth or dare?" Remus asked. His eyes glimmered. I giggled. Serious and dangerous. Isn't that what we'd said at Sluggy's Christmas party? He looked dangerous now.

"Truth," Lily narrowed her eyes at him. She'd been alternating between truth and dare each round.

"I'll give you a choice," Remus grinned wolfishly at her, "I can ask you one particular question - I promise you won't want to answer out loud in present company - or you can answer a private question tomorrow if you swear to never repeat it."

Lily's eyes narrowed further, the greens of her irises barely showing now. "What's the question?"

"Decide first," Remus said. He took another swig of firewhiskey. He looked more and more ferocious each passing minute. Ooh. I shuddered to expel the not unpleasant surge of warmth in my body, grabbed the bottle from him, and scooted back to the bean bags again so I was no longer touching either Lily or Remus.

James, whose hazel eyes were fixed on his friend, looked rather concerned. If I ever found out what Lily chose, I didn't remember it later because I took another gulp from the bottle and everything after that is a bit of a blur. I do remember throwing bonbons at the lot of them indiscriminately from my perch outside the circle, and watching Sirius spin Mary around in playful circles to the crooning of some new witch (one who used enhancement potions, if I recalled right). But other than that, I remember nothing at all. Even with the hangover potion, I spent the train ride home in some amount of discomfort.

Away from my friends, I spent the first week of summer holiday in a bit of a funk, thinking over and over again about my meeting at the end of the term. Grandmother left me mostly to my own, letting me puzzle it out and make my own decision. Finally, at the end of the week, she came into my room and handed me an old bit of rolled parchment, yellowed and soft with age. I was laying on my back with one leg crossed over the other, spinning the dragon scale over and over in my hand well I fought back nervous nausea over what could go wrong if I decided to do this.

"Read this," my grandmother said.

"Just out of curiosity," I stopped her when she turned to leave, "why can't McGonagall or Dumbledore do this? Or an auror? Why ask me?"

Grandmother was silent for a moment. Her gaze stayed intent on mine. "There are some people in positions of power," she finally answered, "who are not as loyal as they could be. They would be happy to report on the movements of those who have actively spoken against Voldemort. And believe me, there are eyes on those who dared."

She walked out after that, leaving me to the silence of my own thoughts.

When I finally worked up the nerve to unroll the parchment, I saw that it was addressed to "My Dearest Guinevere". It was, I realized with a start, a letter to my grandmother from my grandfather. I hadn't known it before, but they'd spent years apart. Although World War II was mainly a muggle event, my grandpa had gone off to try to help squirrel both muggles and magical persons alike out of the camps. I teared up more and more as I read through.

I miss you, your smile...I miss the way you scold me so seriously when all I want to do is kiss you. But every time I think of leaving, I remember the people I'm not able to take along on each trip and the nightmares I have of their faces. If I leave here before I do all that I can possibly do, those faces will haunt me for the rest of my life.

There was more, obviously, but I kept going back to that. The faces that would haunt me if I didn't do everything I could.

And like that, the nausea disappeared. My stomach was still in knots, but my mind was made up. I couldn't let others be put in danger because I was scared. Dumbledore and McGonagall - and my grandmother - would keep me safe. Plus, the little voice in the back of my head demanded, didn't I owe the world to make up for the actions of Stan and Cadie? With that in mind, I borrowed Grandmother's owl and wrote a brief note directly to Dumbledore.

Grandmother rented a small cottage, only a ten minute walk to the outskirts of Hogsmeade, for the summer. I was surprised, but it made me feel warm inside. She cared about me enough to want to stay together, and obviously since I couldn't apparate yet I needed to be close to Octavius's branch of Ollivander's Wands. We spent the weekend charming the walls different colors (she liked white; I kept trying different pale colors to see if she'd notice) and unpacking our summer clothes.

I left early on Monday to walk to the shop. It was a beautiful morning, if a bit foggy. But it was warm and there were other people out and about. Some of them waved at me as I walked by from their front gardens. I waved back.

Octavius put me right to work in the front room. For the first week, he told me, I was only to help customers fill out the appropriate paperwork and pay, and draw up some plans for future wand. He wanted me to see wand repairs in action before I started on that, and he said we'd start working on new wands once he'd approved my plans.

In the evening, while the air was still warm and a small amount of light lingered in the sky, I walked back home and ate dinner with Gran. Then, I would read my small amount of mail, which was usually study guides from Professor Funke, and a little note from Lily who I wrote back at least once every three days. The study guides from Professor Funke were complicated and intricate, leaving me with headaches when I tried to sleep. But I studied them, preparing myself for what little I could do in the months to come.