Part 43 – Apples, Lists, Dust

"For the last time, Prongs," Sirius panted and puffed as he ran beside his friend on their tenth lap of the pitch, "Sunny and I are not fighting."

James rolled his eyes, easily keeping pace. He murmured, "Right. Two of the most insufferably talkative people I know suddenly deciding they have nothing to say to each other is perfectly normal."

Glaring, Sirius clenched his jaw and did his best to completely ignore the reasonable concerns.

My friends can be so stupid sometimes, James thought, not for the first or last time.

The pair trudged along in silence for another half lap. Up ahead, Mina ran with Mary and Suzi; Delwyn Jones, Zane Creevy, and Gerald Walker jogged behind their captain; both groups chatted and laughed and seemed to be out of range of any possible eavesdropping.

It was only the tentative illusion of privacy that encouraged Sirius to admit, "We… disagreed about something. I know she's right, but it's hard to stomach. She knows she's right, so she's not giving an inch."

James sighed. "Is it about your brother?"

Sirius seemed stunned, seemed like he was about to demand how his friend knew such a thing.

But before he could, James just laughed and tapped his glasses. "These aren't just for show, Padfoot," the black-haired teen declared, "And I do try to be somewhat aware of my surroundings. Usually Regulus ignores you, but this week, he's been glaring daggers every chance he gets."

James had to wait another lap and a half for Sirius to softly murmur, "Reg has Mina's paint on him."

Sucking in a harsh breath, James took only seconds to decipher what such a fact meant: Regulus Black had been involved in the New Year's attack on Hogsmeade. The young Gryffindor took only a few seconds more to determine the likely conflict: "And Mina won't remove it?"

"She said she would," grumbled Sirius, "Eventually… I dunno. She told Reg she wants a list of Death Eaters. She told me it's some sort of weird attempt to make the little bastard abandon his evil ways… er… well, something like that. I don't think I can do the argument justice."

James snorted. "Sounds about right." He deftly dodged a kick aimed at taking out his ankles.

xxXxx

The door of the Defense classroom opened before Mina's raised fist could make contact with the weathered wood, and Dorcas Meadowes stepped through the ensuing void. Red, watery, swollen eyes widened and then darted away in shame as their owner sniffled and mopped her runny nose.

"Don't worry about it, Fields," Mina murmured, helping her distraught roommate out with a few charms to hide the worst of the evidence of the post-Occlumency-lesson misery, "I've been at stage two for weeks, and I still come out weeping like Chastity on her monthly."

Pale face scrunching in confusion, Dorcas wondered, "Who?"

Realizing that she must've gotten the girl's name wrong (again), Mina gestured weakly. "Y'know," she said, "The girl from the dorm…" A put-upon huff. "Mac promised to hex my ears off if I didn't quit calling her Ugly…"

Dorcas stared quizzically for another few brief moments before understanding dawned; she burst into startled laughter. "Charity!" the blonde insisted, "Her name is Charity! Honestly! You have to be doing that on purpose!"

Mina grumbled a bit (because she wasn't, and it was hardly her fault that Chastity was such a boring, forgettable cow). The sandy-haired Animagus ultimately decided not to comment and instead declared, "There's a bar of chocolate on my nightstand. I've found that it does the trick quite nicely after having been forced to remember all the most horrid bits of your life." When Dorcas looked like she was about to protest, Mina added, "Don't ruin the moment by saying something stupid. I wouldn't have offered if I didn't have more."

(Well, actually, she didn't, but that situation was easily remedied; a raid on one of her friends' stashes might even further improve the wretched mood Mina would be in later.)

Dorcas gave a weary but grateful smile. "Thanks," she croaked, "I… I didn't think it would be so awful, just… just reliving my own memories, but… anyways, you'll be done in a few hours, ya? Maybe we can meditate a bit when you get back."

"Sure, Dorky," replied Mina, smirking audaciously as the girls parted ways, "Or we can burn one down. Might be a quicker way to take the edge off."

Once inside the dim classroom, Mina crossed quickly to the usual cushions arranged on the floor and arranged herself accordingly.

Lazarov, already meditating in what she called Lotus Position, gave no sign of acknowledgement, trusting the girl to prepare without aid.

And Mina did so, letting her mind empty and her consciousness drift. Sometime later, she heard, "The nurse informed the staff that you are not to be allowed any more sleeping draught. I qvite enjoyed seeing Albus and Minerva scolded for permitting such irresponsible use in the first place."

Mina opened her eyes, letting the comment have a few moments to permeate her lazy synapses. "Oh," she drawled, nodding, "Ya. But it hasn't been too bad. You were right about the leech stone helping. I can usually force myself to nod off for a few hours, if I really need to."

"Excellent," the vampire agreed. She unfurled her long pale limbs, stretching as her cold gaze focused on her charge. "Nightmares?"

"No more than usual," Mina reported, "Still impossible to remember."

Lazarov gave a thoughtful hum. An easy silence settled once more, stretching on and on until she declared, "The situation vith your great aunt concerns me. The murders she is accused of in her 'Foley' persona took place very shortly after vhatever trauma your mother inflicted upon you, and I cannot help thinking that the events are related. If that is true, then this may be far more complicated than just your repulsive mother botching an exorcism."

"Lucky me," sighed Mina.

"Legilimens," replied Lazarov, snapping the spell off so suddenly and so swiftly that no hope of dodging ever existed.

Wedged underneath a ratty old sofa, Mina softly grumbled, "Ugh. Pathetic. You could give me a little warning."

The vampire, not seeming particularly pleased at also being squished beneath the sofa, hissed, "Shush." She inclined her head toward the pair of toddlers between them.

Mina had somewhat gotten used to seeing her and her brother's younger selves, but glancing over and discovering Romy and Remy cowering in the dim, cobweb- and dustbunny-strewn space was a little surprising. Flat on their hollow bellies, tiny hands clasped, grubby faces streaked with dirt, the twins watched with silent, solemn eyes the scene playing out in the living room.

And after just a bit of awkward wriggling, Mina was able peer out through the scant inches between the furniture and the floor. The view wasn't great, but she did recognize the bottom half of the living room of her childhood home, the once-quaint forest cottage, the thin wooden walls and mismatched furniture, the perpetual smell of decaying earth.

Two sets of legs (one feminine, one masculine) faced each other as their owners conversed in low tones. Though Mina couldn't see anything above the people's waists, she guessed that the woman was her mother… yes, she'd recognize that vomit-stained nightgown and those ratty gray slippers anywhere. At first she thought the man might be her father but quickly decided that his shoes were too nice, not brand new but high-quality and well cared for; assuming he hadn't lost them in a card game, Cassius Lupin's shoes would've been scuffed and dirty from all his drunken stumbling, certainly not polished to a reflective sheen.

"Do what you want with the girl," their mother croaked. Metallic clicking and clacking signified some money changing hands. "But don't touch my son."

Fiercely, Mina battled down the overwhelming urge to empty her stomach, if only for the reason that she didn't know the end result of vomiting in one's own mind.

The man huffed and stiffly replied, "Madam, I've repeatedly explained that my interest in your twins is purely academic. I wish you would stop insinuating such sordid and inappropriate motives."

Mina's mother snorted. She chirped, "Whatever," and took her bottle of firewhiskey and bag of dirty galleons into her stale bedroom. She slammed and locked her door.

Beneath the sofa, Remy and Romy clasped each other tighter as they watched the man's shiny black oxfords step slowly, cautiously toward their hiding place. With a muttered spell, he cleaned and cleared the cluttered coffee table and then sat down upon it. "Hello, Remy, Romy," he said, "Would you mind coming out from under there? I'd very much like to meet you, and I brought you some presents."

The twins exchanged a glance, once again communicating with only minute facial expressions. "He knows we're here," Remy seemed to say, "He'll make us come out anyways, but by then he could be mad. He seems nice right now. And he said he'd give us presents."

Romy shook her little head, scowling and silently answering, "It's a trick. Mummy just said he's allowed to hurt me. I'm not going out there, and you aren't neither!" Aloud, the tiny girl—probably no older than four—shouted, "Go snog a dementor, Mr. Shiny Shoes! We ain't int'ested!"

"You tell him, kid!" Mina cheered, laughing fondly at her younger self's antics. Though she knew it was a pointless gesture, she placed a supportive hand on Romy's skeletal back.

The girl gave no acknowledgement because… well, because it didn't actually happen. The memory continued as the aptly dubbed Mr. Shiny Shoes placed box of chocolate covered biscuits on the floor and slid the offering under the sofa with his toe. "I'm sorry to hear that," he murmured, "Maybe we can just chat a bit for now, and you'll come out later?"

Two little tummies rumbled, but Romy's fierce distrust and Remy's blind faith in his sister kept the children from giving in to temptation. For a few minutes, anyways. And then the pair tore into the box and began stuffing themselves as if they hadn't eaten in days… which they probably hadn't.

"I think we could be very good friends," said Mr. Shiny Shoes, his deep voice faintly smug as he listened to the feeding frenzy, "I'm friends with a lot of little boys and girls who are special like you… did you know that you're special? I bet you know. Or at least suspect… your mother doesn't appreciate just how special you are, but I do."

After jamming one last biscuit into Remy's messy mouth, Romy tossed the box back out and demanded, "More or you go away!"

Mr. Shiny Shoes nudged the empty box, vaguely amused as he chuckled, "Wouldn't you rather have some real food? Eating too many sweets isn't healthy, and I brought a nice lunch for us. How about I go set it up on the table, and you two can come out when you're ready, alright?" He stood and walked off without waiting for an answer, but Mina tracked his path through the depressing living room to the mildewed kitchen, where he waved off a few cleaning spells before puttering around the rickety table.

The twins held another silent conversation, Romy insisting that they shouldn't trust the man, Remy insisting that he was hungry. In the end, they decided that Remy was going to stay under the sofa while Romy went and negotiated for food.

Shifting clumsily in the small space, Mina smiled as she watched her small self army-crawl out of hiding. Mina and Lazarov followed in the same manner, easily fitting through the same gap in a complete affront to spatial reasoning. They trailed behind Romy as she clambered to her feet and cautiously approached the kitchen. Mr. Shiny Shoes was facing away, his skinny, rather short body bent over the table, but upon hearing Romy's approach, he stood and started to turn-

Mina's chest seized, as if a firecracker had gone off inside her rib cage. She gasped aloud, vision exploding with black spots… no. Just one black spot, directly covering Mr. Shiny Shoes's face…

The spot dilated like a pupil and, with sucking whoosh, engulfed the entire scene. Primal panic flooded Mina's senses as she recognized the dark chasm: the cursed spot, the whispering abyss that Mina had seen from the "blank" memory the Prewetts yanked out of her mind.

Except this time she wasn't experiencing the unsettling void within a Pensieve; no, Mina had fallen into the actual void, and the real thing proved far worse than any imitation.

She jumped nearly out of her skin when Lazarov's icy hand closed around her bicep. "The fabled dark spot," her vampiric professor remarked, visible presence swallowed by the oppressive vacuum, "Do not panic, Lupin. The longer ve can stay, the more information ve can gather."

Swallowing bile, Mina nodded. Then realized the gesture might not be seen and answered, "Alright." She struggled to control her breathing—in the sense that she struggled to breathe at all in such total darkness—and she struggled not to listen to the sinister whispers.

"-wolf! The wolf, Mummy! Please-"

"-commit the murder I was imprisoned for-"

"-listen to me?! Why won't you listen?!-"

"-that a… a finger?! Whose finger-"

"-kill me this time! Please! Remy, I saw it-"

Mina's knees trembled. She slapped her hands over her ears to block out the noise and whimpered feebly when Lazarov stepped away into the impenetrable gloom—maybe a few steps, maybe a thousand, not that the distance mattered half as much as the absence.

Alone, the girl realized precisely what upset her so much about the dark abyss: the empty, helpless terror of being alonealonealone…

Swallowing thickly, Mina accused, "You did this on purpose."

Lazarov's voice came from farther away than Mina preferred. "Yes," said the professor, "Four of Foley's alleged victims vere Unspeakables. Her reason for killing the Director of the Department vas obvious. Foley likely vouldn't have been able to erase her identity vithout eliminating the only man sure to know her real name. An additional two victims vere killed outside the Ministry, vhen they chased her and tried to prevent her from escaping. Clearly unintended casualties. The fourth victim, however, vas a mere researcher, rather young. Rather… eh… low level. He vas killed inside the same office as the Director, so the aurors assumed that the Director vas only the intended target, that the researcher stumbled into the crime and paid vith his life. Vhile that account is possible, the investigation vas rushed and sloppy, and no alternate theories vere ever discussed. Vhen people assume facts, they rarely arrive at the truth."

"Mr. Shiny Shoes," Mina whispered. She found that keeping herself focused on the conversation (not to mention keeping her eyes squeezed tightly shut) helped to block out the vertigo that came from being suspended in utter darkness. "Mr. Shiny Shoes said he had an academic interest in my brother and me. You think he was an Unspeakable? What could he have possibly wanted with us? And why would Aunt Joy kill him over it? I mean, if he's the same researcher who was killed…"

Lazarov's voice seemed to be drifting farther and farther away. "Best guess?" she remarked, "He vas likely conducting case studies on linked tvins. Research and experimentation on children is a hideous practice but not as uncommon as you might hope, especially if the knowledge to be gained is suitably enticing. The human soul… vell, many of history's most formidable intellects have strayed from fascination to obsession vhile chasing such knowledge."

Suddenly, the vampire sounded like she was walking toward Mina rather than away, except at a different angle, an angle that suggested she'd walked all the way around and come back out the opposite side of… wherever they were. "From vhat I have observed in your memories, you and your brother shared a very deep bond. The abuse you suffered, the isolation, only strengthened the link you possessed from birth. I can think of many, many theories an unscrupulous individual might test on such a unique pair of subjects."

Mina was once again acutely aware of the very real, very horrible prospect of vomiting in her own mind. She wasn't sure she would ever feel clean again after such an unfortunate incident.

"Purely speculation, of course," said the professor, suddenly standing in front of Mina again, "Although the fact that my suggestions before ve began concerning potential Unspeakable involvement led us almost directly here-"

"What is here?" Mina demanded. Dizzy, she groped blindly in the darkness until Lazarov closed a chilly hand around her wrist. "What… you must have a theory, right? They must've… shown you the blank memory, and that's how you knew to look…"

Somehow, even though she couldn't see, Mina sensed her professor's frown. "Lupin," she murmured, shifting until her cold spidery palms pressed into the tops of the girl's shoulders, "Mina. Breathe." Mina could feel but not see the calculating, concerned stare. "You find this place very upsetting, yes? But you have not thrown me out and across the room. You trust me enough to be here, so trust that I can keep you safe vhile ve stay."

That did sort of make sense. Mina certainly didn't trust anyone else to inspect the dark spot… well, at least no one who also had the necessary expertise to explain the damn thing.

"This darkness is indeed indicative of a strong memory curse," Lazarov explained, "It may be possible to recover some of vhat vas lost, but the process vill be… excruciating… Vhat you feel right now? Those feelings are only a slight echo of the trauma that has been blocked from your mind. Are you sure you vant to proceed? Are you sure knowing is vorth the agony of reliving those experiences?"

"-DEMON! DEMON, BEGONE!-"

The universe seemed to wobble on its axis; the dim lights of the Defense classroom seared Mina's retinas, and the abrupt return of physical sensation promptly provoked an encore of the girl's stomach contents.

And then, despite good sense telling her how inappropriate and utterly insane such an action would appear, Mina began to laugh. "Vulnerability of ignorance versus pain of knowledge," she cackled, still feeling distinctly nauseated but somehow rather far removed from reality, "What a classic dilemma… I suddenly find myself craving an apple…"

xxXxx

After the third time Pete asked him if he was feeling alright, Sirius kindly informed the podgy lad that his presence was no longer appreciated. Because, really? Sirius tended to avoid the library whenever possible, but that didn't mean only curses or brain damage could make him voluntarily venture inside.

Well, in all fairness, he probably still wouldn't be anywhere near the library if Madame Pince hadn't personally tracked him down; days ago, when he'd asked her about books concerning auras and Occlumency and linked twins and had been informed that the Hogwarts collection contained surprisingly little information on the subjects, Sirius couldn't have known that the librarian would be so surprised and encouraged by his interest that she would arrange to borrow several relevant titles from Durmstrang.

And, since Pince was a Very Scary Person, refusing the fruit of her efforts never even crossed the lad's mind.

However, Beauchene's theory is no longer widely accepted. Current research by Charms Master Vetruvio Haddock suggests that rather than one abnormally powerful soul being shared between two hosts (to lessen the physical toll of containing energy that would otherwise overwhelm any single individual), "linked" or "bonded" twins are actually the result of separate souls becoming enmeshed in utero and thus gaining the ability to freely share energy between them for as long as they stay connected. Haddock's research is inconclusive as to the cause of such entanglement, but he does offer several intriguing explanations why some twins link and some do not.

The most promising hypothesis, Haddock asserts, is that one or both of the fetuses is in some way damaged or weakened and latches onto the immediately available energy of the other in order to survive. Observations going back centuries offer much anecdotal evidence to support this idea. Twin pairs are generally seen as having a "dominant" and a "submissive," and although Haddock objects to the terminology (suggesting instead "primary" and "dependent," respectively), he states that the contrasting behaviors that originally prompted such labelling give weight to the notion. Most irreversible injuries in wizards and witches are a result of individual magic being insufficient to overcome the damage. By the "submissive" or "dependent" twin latching onto its sibling, the fetus is able to draw on an additional power source in order to combat whatever injury or weakness has endangered its life. The "dominant" or "primary," if it is strong enough to provide sufficient support through the crisis, is eventually rewarded with a sort of spiritual and psychic symbiosis and generally proves to be the more outgoing, aggressive, and protective of the pair.

Despite differing opinions on the "how" and "why," experts in the field do not dispute the absolute lunacy of Healer Ygbert Jaroslav's contention that "bonded" twins should be forcibly separated as soon as they are identified. Not only is such soul magic difficult and dangerous to perform, it has long been considered a dark practice. Even properly executed separation rituals leave both twins with massive psychic scarring, making victims prone to depression, mental instability, and decreased power levels (even squibbing, in some instances). However, the complexity of the process has yielded an over ninety percent rate of some degree of failure, which carries with it a score of oftentimes unpredictable hazards, including insanity, psychopathy, catatonia, and death.

In the most extreme and well-known case, identical twins Tondra and Juvela Marama were put through a bungled separation ritual as children; the Maramas were transformed from happy, normal girls into murderous tyrants who went on to engineer the destruction of Atlantis. Their reign of terror was all the more brutal given the fact that neither twin seemed capable of staying dead; one sister would be indisputably killed yet somehow be raised back to life by the other (four times for Tondra, six for Juvela). Only when both dark sorceresses were killed at once (a feat that took the three nations banding together and deploying the full might of their combined militaries) did they remain deceased. Most historians agree that the most likely scenario is that the separation ritual actually sheared off pieces of the Marama sisters' souls and left them lodged in the wrong bodies, thus making Tondra and Juvela each other's

Sirius tried to keep reading but soon discovered that some dastardly bibliovandal had ripped out the next thirteen pages. Oh well. He set the book aside and picked up the one about auras. It was a rather dry but interesting tome, detailing the simple spell needed to bring soul energies into the visible spectrum (which was just a long way of explaining ooo, pretty colors). The young man was a little disappointed to find out that most scholars didn't think the colors had any particular meaning, personality wise, since they were just the result of how different wavelengths of energy showed up. Intensity was more important than color. Except for black, of course; black meant dark magic, and getting dark magic all over your soul was a Very Bad Idea.

"This isn't the last place I expected to find you, but it is awfully close to the bottom of the list."

Sighing, not bothering to look up, Sirius greeted, "Hello, Reg. Have you come to rant about my… oh, how did you put it last time? My 'psychotic, egomaniacal, complete bitch of a girlfriend'?"

Regulus—still sporting a turtleneck under his robes to hide the incriminating paint stains—had the grace to look embarrassed… though probably not for the right reason. "I apologize," he murmured, "I shouldn't have used such uncivilized language… even if she really is-"

"I get it," Sirius said with a placating smirk, "Don't worry. She says worse about you."

Huffing indignantly, the slender Slytherin threw himself into the chair across form his brother. "And you just let her go around disparaging me?"

Sirius chuckled. "Oh," he said, "So now you're worried about your reputation? Maybe that was something you should've thought about before you became a cadet Dick Eater." They glared at each other for a few moments; then Sirius, deciding to be the bigger man (or maybe just bored and at the limit of his goldfish-like attention span), grumbled, "What do you need, Reg?"

The boy shrugged. "I was going to see if you might finally grow a pair and order your woman to do as she's told," he said, "But I suppose that's a lost cause."

After a loud, obnoxious fit of laughter that got both of the Blacks kicked out of the library, Sirius finally managed to catch his breath and wheeze, "My woman?! Do as she's told?! BWAHAHAHA!"

Regulus glowered and snapped, "I don't see what's so funny. If you're going to consort with half-bloods, you could at least pick ones that know their place."

Wiping honest to goodness tears out of his eyes, Sirius cackled, "Reg, do you even listen to yourself when you speak? You sound like a cartoon villain!" He straightened his posture (stretching, a bit tense from having spent so long doubled over in mirth). "Though, really, you should never ever let Mina hear you saying shit like that. She'd probably kill you. She'd definitely kick your skinny arse twice around the castle."

Haughtily, Regulus scoffed, "Yes, Merlin forbid Mad Mina hears me expressing an opinion that doesn't match her own."

Sirius wanted to strangle his brother. "Actually," he said, "I seem to recall that Mina wanted nothing more than to hear your opinion. You're the one who didn't even bother trying to defend it. Guilty conscience, Reg?"

The slender Slytherin scowled. Then he slapped a folded piece of parchment against Sirius's chest and stomped away.

Since the parchment wasn't addressed to anyone in particular, Sirius didn't hesitate to open it and peruse its contents: a list of seven names.

Bruno Driscoll

Alexander Edgecombe

Jerome Montague

Jonathan Avery

Evan Rosier

Severus Snape

Waldomar Wilkes

Sirius blinked down at the list for a stupidly long time before remembering Mina's terms for helping Regulus: she'd demanded the identities of every marked Death Eater in the castle. More surprising than all the sixth-year Slytherin boys being on the list, more surprising than Alexander Edgecombe—a bloody Ravenclaw—showing up on the list, was the fact that the list existed at all.

Regulus had caved.

xxXxx

"Th'fuck y'want?"

Lily blearily opened her tired eyes, only half remembering that she'd been trying to stay awake, to wait for Mina to return from Occlumency. But only because both Mary and Dorcas had fretted so much when midnight rolled around with no sign of the girl.

Rolling over quietly, Lily squinted through the darkness to see that, yes, Mina had gotten back at some point, that she was collapsed bonelessly, still fully clothed, on top of her covers (again). And that she was whispering with a rather distressed looking Suzi Kemp.

Suzi hugged both her slender arms around her slender midsection, sniffling miserably for a moment before Mina grumbled but scooted over and let the golden-haired third-year curl up beside her. Slurring vulgarities like a drunken sailor, Mina groped under her pillow for a moment before finding her wand and easily snapping off a Patronus.

The silvery-white wolf circled the dark dorm and, finding no danger, came to a halt in front of its mistress, waiting patiently for instructions.

With another wand wave (that Lily recognized as the messenger variation of the spell), Mina croaked, "Oi, Kemps. Get your lazy arses up to Gryffindor Tower. Password's semper liberi." The wolf nodded and streaked off into the night.

"Is everything ok?" Lily whispered, tiptoeing almost silently out of bed and across the room.

Face half smooshed into her pillow, Mina murmured something incoherent but no doubt insulting. Suzi, burrowing against the older girl's side, mumbled, "My stomach hurts."

And you decided to wake Mina in the middle of the night rather than one of your friends? Lily wanted to ask, Rather than a prefect? Rather than me? Are you completely insane? You're damn lucky she didn't cave in your skull! Instead, the redhead pressed a gentle hand against Suzi's clammy forehead and declared, "I can walk you down to the nurse, if you'd like."

Suzi groaned and shook her head, apparently quite content with Mina's meager comfort.

"S'pro'ly the flu," grunted Mina, "Been goin around."

As if in agreement, Suzi chose that moment to lean over the side of the bed and vomit all over Lily's feet… or, well, she would've hit Lily's feet had Mina not conjured a convenient bucket into the path of the disgusting substance.

Lily was… impressed. The non-verbal casting, the speed and accuracy of the spell, the way Mina performed it with her bloody eyes still closed, still seeming half asleep. The fact that she'd bothered to save Lily from bile between her toes rather than just letting it happen and laughing obnoxiously afterwards. Even more impressive was how the sandy-haired Animagus didn't flinch away, how she just held Suzi's hair and rubbed Suzi's back and babbled soothing nonsense.

Once Suzi finished retching, Mina pawed her nightstand and came away with a small potion vial. She shoved the vial into the smaller girl's hands, groggily announcing the substance to be a stomach soother and ordering Suzi to drink it, which Suzi did before whimpering and shivering and once again snuggling against Mina.

Fighting obvious exhaustion, Mina glared hazily up at Lily. "Th'fuck y'want?" the weary beater demanded, words identical but tone the complete opposite of how she'd greeted the late-night intruder.

"We should take her to the nurse-"

"Fuck the nurse," Mina yawned, "She's not gonna anything I didn't just do."

"Lupin-"

"Evans." She continued to knead Suzi's tense shoulders, doing her best to ease the blonde's distress. "It's the stomach flu, which is treated with stomach soothers, of which I have plenty. So kindly fuck off."

Lily huffed. "And you just happen to have a supply of stomach soothers handy?" The jibe was pointless, made more out of frustration at being ignored than any real curiosity.

Mina's jaw tightened. "No," she growled, "I didn't just happen to have them. I learned to stock them for myself because, in case you missed the memo, I've been having to relive my shitty, abusive childhood on a fairly regular basis. Especially the bits that were so horrible they were blocked out of my mind. Side-effects include queasiness and matricidal tendencies."

Oh… Right… Well… Lily couldn't think of anything to do but hover awkwardly as the minutes ticked by.

"Lupin, you have three bloody seconds to explain your- Suzi! What happened?!"

Lily turned in time to see the four older, nightgown-clad Kemp girls rushing through the door and surrounding their sick, clingy little sister.

Allowing Paulie and Yvette to take over cuddling duties, Bernie quietly murmured, "Oh, you poor thing. I bet it's that flu that's been going around. Do you want to see the nurse?"

Suzi, looking a lot less nauseated, shook her head and rasped, "M'fine. Mina took care of me. I just… just needed you."

"Here," Mina grunted, shoving several more vials of the same potion at Coco, "No more'n one every four hours." She swallowed thickly, and Lily started to realize just how pale and exhausted the teen appeared, the dark shadows under her eyes, how she wasn't even attempting to sit up…

Mina had no problem taking care of a sick friend, but in this instance, she literally didn't have the strength or energy. In fact, casting those spells had probably drained what little of both her scant hours of sleep had managed to recover.

"Stay away from the nurse," Mina added, very close to passing out midsentence, "She's fuckin nuts."

Bernie nodded, smiling slightly as she replied, "We'll try. As long as Suzi doesn't get any worse, it shouldn't be necessary… thanks, Lupin."

Mina grunted and rolled away from them, not bothering to watch the doting Hufflepuffs usher their drowsy sister off for some well-deserved babying.

And though she knew that letting the matter drop and going back to bed would've been the smartest things to do, Lily instead took a seat on the edge of Mina's mattress.

Blinking suspiciously (like she couldn't quite comprehend what was going on), Mina drawled, "If you expect to snuggle, I get to be the big spoon."

Lily snorted and rolled her eyes. "Tempting as that sounds," she murmured, shoving at her roommate until the girl whined but mostly complied with the efforts to free the quilt and drape it in a more useful position, "I just wanted to make sure that you're alright… Are you? I mean… like you said, reliving your childhood can't be easy-"

"Merlin's crusty tube sock," she spat, without much customary heat, "Forget I mentioned anything. M'obviously delirious." She gave a weak kick. "Would you fuck off already?"

Long past the days when simple profanity and casual surliness would offend her, Lily just sighed, "Excuse me for caring." After a brief pause, she softly wondered, "Why didn't you let Suzi throw up on me?"

Forehead wrinkling in utter confusion, Mina grumbled, "Uh… cuz there would've been vomit next to my bed? Cuz Suzi would've felt guilty? Cuz you would've bitched for days?" She yawned miserably. "Take y'r fuckin pick."

"Or because you were trying to do something nice for me?" Lily suggested impishly.

Mina scowled. "Assuming something so absurd were to actually happen, pointing it out would be the surest way to make sure it never happened again."

Giggling (giggling?!), Lily tucked the blanket tighter around her roommate's slender shoulders and hummed, "Sweet dreams, Lupin."

xxXxx

"James Potter?"

He tried not to react, tried not to give away the fact that, ya, he was James Potter, because James Potter did not have permission to be roaming the streets of Hogsmeade, even for a reason as valiant and necessary as restocking his supplies of chocolate and liquor.

Of course, the person calling his name apparently wasn't the sort to give up easily. "James Potter? Mr. James Reginald Potter? If I might have a word?"

James kept walking. He absolutely refused to turn around. Unfortunately, since the recent attack, Hogsmeade had been rather deserted; there wasn't even a small crowd in which to disappear.

And the annoying woman who was following him proved to be surprisingly spry, quickly dashing up to his side and then jumping into his path. She flashed a bright smile, winter sunlight glittering off her straight teeth and stark white braid, casting shadows in the creases of her copious laugh lines. "Hello, Mr. Potter," she proclaimed, jogging backwards in front of him at a respectable pace as she offered a handshake, "Healer Solemnia Cadwallader. I was just on my way to see you, so this is a bit of a lucky coincidence."

Juggling the crate of booze, James shook her hand on reflex, even though he was still rather confused. "Cadwallader?" he murmured, "Are you related to Ceridwen and Colwyn?" Ravenclaw's sixth-year seeker and fifth-year beater, respectively; some of the Marauders had spent time with them over the holiday.

"My grandkids," said the healer, "They have nothing but nice things to say about you. But of course I'm not here because of that. I'm here because you cast a stasis spell."

Blinking slowly as he waited for more of an explanation, James finally drawled, "Uh… ok? Last I checked it wasn't illegal or anything."

Solemnia grinned again, unassuming visage briefly shark-like. "It absolutely is. You're not licensed to perform that level of healing magic."

Shit, thought James. "Well, the courtroom full of aurors didn't seem to mind," he cautiously defended, "And since the alternative was letting my friend die, you'll excuse me if I don't bother faking any remorse."

Blithely waving off those concerns, the healer tsked, "No, no, no. You misunderstand, laddie. You're not in any trouble. I'm impressed. Most trained healers can'tcast the spell, let alone bounce back as quickly as you did. And don't think all those diagnostics you performed first went unnoticed. You've had the community in quite a tizzy." The old woman smirked. "Self-taught, I assume?"

James shrugged. "My friends are a bit accident prone."

"Do you have plans for this summer?" asked Solemnia, impish smile kind of absurd on such a weathered old face, "Because I hope you don't. And you certainly shouldn't make any."

He stared at the disturbingly energetic woman. "Uh…"

"You must have an interest in becoming a healer," she continued, "And you definitely have potential. More than I usually see. Spots in our summer program are highly coveted, and you'll be pretty much guaranteed acceptance to training after graduation."

The proposal took a few moments to properly decipher, but James did finally get the jist: Healer Cadwallader was attempting to recruit him for some sort of summer internship. Probably at the hospital. That would make the most sense. "Er…" James drawled, "Well, it sounds… I'm… um… honored-"

"Damn right you are," Solemnia chuckled. She patted him on the back before dropping a thick envelope on top of the crate he carried. "I don't drag my elderly arse out to Hogwarts for just anyone, so this application better be filled out and on my desk by tomorrow morning."

During the long walk back through the Honeydukes tunnel, James had a lot of time to think about the odd offer.

xxXxx

Mina barely glanced at the list before she rolled her eyes and snorted, "Oh, please. Your brother thinks this is even close to sufficient? I said every marked Death Eater in Hogwarts. Not just the obvious ones I already knew about."

Blinking in shock, Sirius demanded, "You knew about Edgecombe? He's a bloody Ravenclaw."

"Despite the reputation for intelligence, I'm fairly certain there's at least two more in their House," Mina announced, flopping limply into a newly Transfigured sofa wedged into the dusty corner of an unused classroom on the fifth floor, "Plus one in Hufflepuff, and several of the girls in Slytherin are marked as well. Though on that front, I haven't been able to tell which ones are just massive bitches rather than genocidal terrorists. It's a surprisingly narrow distinction."

Sirius gaped, his mind connecting dots and making leaps. "You were already tracking them?"

With a vicious smirk, Mina replied, "Well, of course. Ever since Giles tried to have me kidnapped from the fucking school, I decided I needed to know the most likely perpetrators of a repeat performance. I may not be able to anticipate sneak attacks, but I can at least avoid being alone with crazy cultists who want to see me dead."

Feeling his thought process grind and splutter like an engine struggling to turn over, Sirius finally managed, "No Gryffs?"

"Not yet," murmured Mina, "Though I'm quite concerned about Merrigan and Sloan. Even if they're not Death Eaters, they're still a problem. They teamed up with Zuniga, for fuck's sake. Anyone with an ounce of sense could see what a complete psycho she was. Doesn't exactly give me confidence in their judgment."

They were getting off topic, so Sirius did his best to steer them back. "Sunshine," he sighed, "Wouldn't it be easier to just give Reg the number you suspect?"

Halfway between a pout and scowl, the girl replied, "No. Because what if I missed some? Then he'll have no incentive to provide as much information as possible. Or, worse, I overestimated, and he'll make up names just because I asked for them. Do you have any idea how horrible it would be to have people think you were a Death Eater when you really weren't?"

"I thought you were trying to… y'know… help him be a better person…"

Shrugging, the sandy-haired she-wolf replied, "Why can't I do both?"

Sirius really shouldn't have expected anything less than that sort of flawless logic from his unbalanced beloved.

xxXxx

Most prefects complained incessantly about patrols, but Lily and Remus agreed that the duty was actually the one they minded least. Neither Gryffindor considered peaceful late-night strolls through the vast castle's sprawling, deserted hallways much of a hardship; quite the opposite, really, since moments not fraught with shouting and chaos tended to be in rather short supply. And since they generally were assigned to undertake such tasks together (or managed to manipulate the schedule to achieve the same ends), pleasant discussions always filled their evenings.

"You need to talk to your sister," Lily declared.

If he was startled about the topic of conversation (which they usually avoided like a psychotic, smart-mouthed elephant in the room), Remus didn't let anything show. "Between us, Mina does most of the talking," he dryly replied, "I just occasionally nod and scold for inappropriate language."

Which. Ya. That sounded about right. But so not the point. "Remus," she murmured, "Please. I'm… I'm worried. Convince her to ease up on the Occlumency lessons. She comes back looking just… It can't possibly be healthy. Please." Constantly finding Mina collapsed in exhaustion at various inappropriate spots throughout the tower (and once in the library, twice in the kitchens) had quickly gone from frustrating to annoying to surprisingly endearing to downright terrifying, and Lily would've had to be made of stone not to feel at least a spark of protective concern toward the obstinate little chit.

Remus heaved a great sigh, his wiry yet broad shoulders taking on a miserable slump. He grumbled, "I know. She won't listen to me. She thinks I'm trying to keep her from recovering the blocked memories. Which I would, if I thought it was possible, but she's too damn stubborn to ever let anything go. And she's far too impatient to go about it at a reasonable pace."

"Well," Lily argued, "Then maybe talk to Professor Lazarov. It's her job to keep Mina safe through the process-"

"Ya," snorted Remus as he tugged at his sandy hair, "I'll just go tell the centuries-old dark arts master that I think her methods are a bit too rough. Provided Lazarov didn't gut me or laugh me off the continent, Mina would undoubtedly find out and devise some elaborate and humiliating way of getting back at me for even suggesting she was capable of emotional fragility."

Lily huffed. The twins knew each other too well. "Well, I can't just do nothing. Someone has to be sensible." They walked another few steps in tense silence. "What about Black? Surely he might be able to-"

"They're fighting."

Blinking stupidly, barely biting back the instinctive response of Aren't they always? It's practically foreplay for those two, and the even less helpful It can't be anything serious. Mina hasn't run away on another international crime spree, the redhead asked, "About what?"

Remus grumbled something unintelligible, which probably meant that he didn't have a clue.

Most of the rest of their walk was quiet and awkward. Lily had to wonder if Remus always felt so frustratingly helpless when it came to keeping his sister from harm. Because Lily surely did, and she didn't even have any motivation beside basic human decency upon which to rely.

That their course took them to the hallway that contained the Defense classroom couldn't be properly termed an accident or coincidence, more a mutual yet subconscious decision that did not warrant discussion. They arrived just in time to watch Professor Lazarov throw Headmaster Dumbledore quite cleanly through the doorway and into the opposite wall.

"I AM NOT, NOR VILL I EVER BE ONE OF YOUR BRAINLESS PUPPETS, ALBUS!" Lily heard the vampire shriek as a chair and then a desk and then another desk and then two more chairs sailed through the same opening and just barely missed the old man, who was just barely alert enough to wandlessly bat them away. "JUST BECAUSE I AGREED TO STAY HERE DOES NOT MEAN I HAVE NO OTHER OPTIONS! DO YOU REALLY BELIVE I VOULD BETRAY THE CONFIDENCE OF MY STUDENTS IN EXCHANGE FOR A MENIAL JOB AND A DANK APARTMENT?!"

"Elizaveta-"

"NO!" Between blinks, the dark-haired wraith appeared before them, a rather unsettling black mist swirling around her bare legs. "Not another vord," she hissed. Hissed, literally, mouth a glittery white slash of fangs as she bent over the old wizard until their foreheads nearly touched. With the next blink the vampire had vanished, the dark cloud only lingering for the moment it took for the heavy wooden door to slam.

Lily rushed forward to assist the headmaster as he struggled to tug his beard and robes back into a semblance of respectability. "Are you hurt, sir?" she asked quietly, hands faintly shaking after seeing just how terrifyingly dangerous the Defense professor really was under the thin veneer of benevolent indifference. "Do you need the nurse?"

"No, my dear girl," insisted the silver-haired wizard as he straightened and offered a disturbingly sincere smile, "I'm quite alright. I confess, I very much expected Professor Lazarov's reaction and took steps to cushion the likely landing area."

The two prefects stared at him for a moment before Remus casually reached out and poked the stone wall; he snorted at the springy sponge-cake texture he discovered. A quick jump revealed that the floor yielded much the same under similar force.

Dumbledore didn't dawdle. Once he was upright and reasonably arrayed (though obviously still a neon fashion disaster, as always), the old man glided off with a twinkling smile and a curt yet mysterious, "Have a pleasant evening."

Moments after the headmaster had disappeared around the nearest corner (limping only very slightly, which was impressive for a wizard his age), Remus began hammering on the classroom door.

Lazarov did not deign to open up. Either she was adept at silencing charms or even more adept at ignoring annoying hollering. In either case, Remus refused to admit defeat (he had that notorious sister, after all, and he'd never be able to as much as win a single argument had he not possessed superhuman persistence). He carried on in that manner much longer than Lily thought appropriate; the lad only finally stopped when Mina strolled into view, spared him a few puzzled blinks, then demanded, "Moony, what the fuck are you doing?"

"It's after curfew, Sunny," he fired back, still visibly annoyed, "You're the one who's not supposed to be here."

Mina's expression soured. "Don't pull the prefect act on me," she demanded, "You know I prefer not to be reminded of your unfortunate habit of enforcing the rules." Arms folding across her ample chest and slim hip cocking to the side, the girl gave a mean smirk and added, "Unless, of course, you want to play another rousing game of Why Does My Badge Smell Like It's Been Inside a Hippogriff?"

Eyes narrowing and hand coming up to protectively cover the metal ornament in question, Remus growled, "I will get you back for that someday."

Mina grinned and chirped, "Looking forward to it. Now, I repeat: Moony, what the fuck are you doing? Do you really think it's wise to be annoying a vampire at this time of night?"

"The headmaster certainly doesn't have any reservations about doing so," Lily remarked quietly, surprised at how amused she was by the twins' banter, "He was here pestering her. It sounded like he wanted information about the Occlumency students. Or perhaps just one in particular."

Shrugging, the sandy-haired girl replied, "Oh. That. Ya, he's been bugging her for quite a while about that. Only a matter of time until Lazarov finally gets fed up and snaps him like a twig. Again, something to look forward to."

"You're not even a little upset?" Remus complained, "The fact that he would even ask for such personal information-"

"He's a nosy old bastard," his sister interrupted, "And he can't stand not being in the loop. I would've been surprised if he hadn't asked. It's nothing to really worry about. Lazarov is never going to tell him anything, about me or anyone else."

Though Remus's vicarious indignation didn't go away, it did seem to lessen to more rational levels. The young man stated, "He won't stop digging. It actually might be better to tell him as much as you can. If he starts doing his own research, then he's going to draw even more attention to you, and the wrong people might find out-"

"There's not much to find out," Mina huffed, "At least not yet. Y'know that dark spot? The blank memory? Definitely a memory curse, and we're going to be focusing on figuring out what was important enough to lobotomize a five-year-old over."

If Lily hadn't been paying so close attention to the interaction, she might've missed the slight panic that passed over Remus's face.

Mina didn't seem to have noticed, however, instead putting on a show of nonchalantly examining her nail beds. "Anyways," she continued, "I was bored, and Lazarov said I could come down for extra sessions if I felt up to it. Of course, considering the mood she's likely in, now's probably not a good time for her to be messing around in my brain. Fancy a detour past the kitchens, or do you two have urgent delinquency to thwart?"

"You're here, so there can't be anything too urgent going on," Lily commented dryly.

"Not hungry," Remus muttered, apparently finding the gray stone floor fascinating, "And we still have a lot of space to patrol."

With a shrug, Mina declared, "Suit yourself." She gave her brother a short hug and a kiss on the cheek before sauntering off.

Lily waited until a short time later, after she and her prefect partner had also wandered away to resume their duties, to confront him about her suspicion. "What's the curse blocking that you don't want her to find out?" she wondered, trying to be as non-confrontational as possible.

But, judging by Remus's visible flinch and the pained glance he sent her, the young man still felt a bit attacked. "I can't tell you," he murmured, "I took an oath." They walked half a hallway before he finally sighed, "It was… I know what happened wasn't my fault. I was a child. I trusted the adults around me to do the right thing, and they lied to make their own lives easier. They lied, and I shouldn't feel so guilty because I was young and stupid and didn't know any better. But none of that changes the fact that my own actions caused Mina so much pain." He swallowed thickly, and his voice took on a note of agony. "No matter what I was told, I shouldn't have… I betrayed her. And if all the years since haven't been enough for me to forgive myself, how can I ever expect her to forgive me once she finds out?"

Lily wound their elbows together, doing her best to provide comfort to her friend. "Your sister adores you," she declared, "She's not going to blame you for something you were tricked into when you were a child."

"She might," he answered, sounding very small and scared.

They didn't talk much for the remainder of the evening.

xxXxx

"The woods are lovely, dark, and deep…" Mina chanted, feeling quite melancholy as she strolled the snowy forest at Firenze's side.

The centaur smiled indulgently, still inexplicably shirtless, peachy blonde hair piled into a mass of intricate braids. "They are, aren't they?" he hummed, "I love winter."

With a weak smile and a halfhearted resolution to introduce her friend to some muggle literature, Mina agreed, "Me, too… So, what does your mum want to talk to me about? I'm not even in her class. Plus, I know she doesn't like me very much."

Firenze shrugged. "I'm not certain," he declared, only slightly uneasy, "She just told me that the matter was urgent, so I came right to find you… what do you think it's about?"

"No clue." Well, she did have a bit of a clue, but any mention of any potential seer abilities was going to end with Mina purchasing a glue factory. What the heck though. Boredom + Forbidden Forest + Secret Midnight Centaur Meeting = Entertainment. (Or at least that was the theory.)

For several long minutes, they continued to crunch through the snow. Firenze had a much easier time of it (his longer legs providing a clear advantage), but Mina didn't struggle too strenuously to keep up. She'd traversed the woods often enough to know that they were nearly two miles from the castle, that they were approaching a small clearing that grew fairy rings in the warmer months. They journey was certainly a lot faster in her Animagus form, but, even in the dark hours of the early morning, Mina knew exactly where they were.

Sure enough, the trees thinned and revealed a slightly oblong field of nothing but pure white; standing in the center was Elda, flanked on either side by a male centaur. "Not sure this is my kind of party," Mina murmured, just because she genuinely had a difficult time censoring herself in times of uncertainty.

Elda huffed and stomped but remained patiently in place as the pair of newcomers approached. "Hail, Romina Lupin," she finally greeting, looking none too happy, "Your coming was foretold."

With a derisive snort and a long, slow, bratty eye roll, the girl snapped, "First, no one calls me Romina. Not if they value their lives. Second, of course my coming was foretold. You sent Renz to find me and bring me here. Merlin's balls, and people wonder why I can't stand all this psychic crap."

While the two unknown male centaurs stamped and produced scandalized whickers, Firenze nudged Mina lightly. "It is a traditional salutation," he whispered, apparently far more mortified than appalled by her behavior, "Use of the full name is a sign of respect. And you are meant to respond may the stars shine good fortune upon our meeting."

"Oh." Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck. Shouldn't there be a class to teach those sorts of things? Mina was going to feel pretty awful if she started another centaur-human war. Inadvertently, at least. "Ok, then pretend that's what I said," she offered, doing her best to force some sincerity into her grin, "And, if it's not too much trouble, can we get right to the point? Before I freeze my bloody tits off?"

The centaur to Elda's right, an imposing, wild-looking dark beast covered in shining black skin and hair from head to hoof, glowered for several long moments. His voice, when he spoke, brought to mind a distant boom of thunder. "Tales reached our ears of a human child at Hogwarts who possesses the gift of Sight," he intoned deeply, almost sneering as his dark eyes raked over her, "You are not what we expected."

(Mina was about ninety percent certain she'd just been insulted.) "Good thing I don't have the gift of Sight," she snapped back, "Now is that all? Can I go? I'm even more in need of a hot chocolate than I was before Renz dragged me out here." It was getting to be a very strange night; between Sirius still pouting over his brother, then finding Remus trying to bang down Lazarov's door, and now this absence of entertainment/abundance of obnoxious beasts… well. Mina had about had enough.

"You deny your gift?" spoke the last centaur, his deep chestnut body and tan chest practically glowing in the moonlight. He leaned in close for a few moments, close enough for Mina to count the individual hairs in his thick auburn beard. Just as the girl was preparing to start screaming about personal space, the creepy bastard once again stood to his full, rather impressive height. "No," he murmured, mossy green eyes soft and sad, "It has been hidden from you."

Doing her best to shake off the eerie chill that followed those words, Mina glared up at the creature. "There's nothing to hide," she snarled, starting to become rather irritated (barring Firenze, centaurs were not particularly pleasant to speak with), "Why is everyone so obsessed with making me out to be a seer?! I'm not! I don't want to be!"

"Not and don't want to be are entirely different concepts," Elda remarked, hair a loose cascade of bronze that barely concealed her bare breasts from view.

The weight and intensity in the stares of the three elder centaurs began to make Mina's skin itch and teeth grind. Her volatile temper threatened to explode, scorched-earth style. Only the thought of accidentally insulting Firenze right along with his delusional herd members kept the girl's furious tirade at bay.

"The vampire, she is teaching you to clear your mind," Big Beardy Chestnut Centaur announced, "But you will not discover the answers you seek until you also learn to open it."

Eyes narrowing, Mina demanded, "Did Lazarov put you up to this? If she's got a problem with my training, then fine, but I don't need her trying to pawn me off on a bunch of star-gazing lunatics-"

Big Black Beardy Centaur briefly kicked up onto his hind legs, almost like he'd barely stopped himself from planting a hoof in Mina's face. "Hold your tongue, human," he bellowed, and whoa. Where did that bow and arrow come from? Was it really necessary to aim them directly between her eyes? "Decades have passed since last we honored one of your kind by even considering offering aid in such matters. You would dare refuse our generosity?"

"Yup," Mina replied, adding a mocking little pop to the P. She glared mercilessly down the arrow shaft and into the equally menacing eyes of its wielder. "So why don't you be a good little horsey and point that toy at something you actually intend to shoot."

Their staring match lasted several tense moments before the chestnut male rumbled, "Bane."

And just like that, the arrow went back in the quiver, the bow went back across Bane's muscly black chest. He continued to glower, hissing, "This is a waste, Magorian. She is not even worthy of her gift, never mind our assistance in channeling it."

"You read the signs just as I did," Magorian replied, standing calm and steady, those mossy eyes still focused, "She has been blind too long. We must help her see."

That was all the warning Mina received before Elda produced a handful of fine blue dust and puffed the shimmering substance directly into the girl's face.

Mina spluttered, trying to cough and spit out the gritty breath she'd inhaled, blinking blearily in an attempt to clear the debris from her eyes. "BITCH!" she choked out. Momentary indecision about whether to run away or to take a swing at the damnable nag proved to be all that was necessary for whatever was in the blue powder to hit her system.

Thankfully, Firenze was fast enough to catch the girl when her knees buckled; she managed to send him a weak, grateful smile, especially when her ringing ears detected the far-away sound of him shouting at his mother.

And then there was no more movement and no more thought as Mina was sucked down into darkness.

xxxxxxxxxx

So... I know it's been a while. Sorry about that. Haven't been terribly inspired lately, but hopefully that nonsense has ended... Keep in mind that I definitely find reviews to be inspiring ;)

(Points to all who know "The woods are lovely, dark, and deep.")

(PS: I'm not wild about the title for this chapter, but I couldn't think of a better one. Suggests would be appreciated.)