Not for the first time since Christmas break had started, Lily marveled at how easy it was to eat without grubby hands grabbing at every plate on the table, and people yelling at the top of their lungs, and stray charms and hexes being thrown about the room.

She cleaned off her plate and sat back in her chair, watching her parents finish their dinner. Her dad swallowed a mouthful of food and glanced at her empty plate. "When did you say Marlene is coming to pick you up?"

"In about ten minutes."

"And you're all packed?"

"Of course." When was Lily ever not prepared well, well, well in advance for something? "I'll be back after Christmas and New Year's, so I packed reasonably light."

"I saw two big bags sitting by your bed," said Mrs Evans dubiously.

Lily grinned. "I said reasonably."

Her mother shook her head and stood, her plate empty. "Here, give me your plate, Lily. You go bring your things to the door, you don't want to keep Marlene waiting."

Lily nodded and stood. Mr Evans said something indecipherable through a stuffed mouth and handed his empty plate to her mum, who rolled her eyes. "You're welcome, dear."

Lily started bounding up the stairs to her room and stopped when her mum called her name. She looked back. "Yes?"

"Brush your teeth, Lily."

"Mum, do you really think I would ever forget to brush my teeth?"

"Of course not. But do you think that I will ever stop trying to remind you?"

Lily wrinkled her nose. "No."

"No, indeed. Now go brush your teeth."

She laughed and headed to the bathroom. As she brushed, she walked out to her room and started awkwardly dressing with one hand. Then she hopped back to the bathroom and spat, rinsed, and wriggled her way once more to her room, pants half on. Lily wondered if her friends' messier habits had rubbed off on her at any point - she was sure she used to dress and carry herself far more primly when she was younger.

She picked up her packed bags, filled to the brim with all the necessary essentials and plenty of unnecessary essentials too. With that being the case, she wondered if she could still call them essentials. Regardless, her meticulousness when it came to packing had certainly stayed with her through the years. Lily trundled down the stairs with her bags, glad that at the very least there was nothing that could happen that she wouldn't be prepared for.

The doorbell rang as she reached the bottom of the stairs and Lily set her bags down and headed over, a smile ready for her always bubbly friend.

She opened the door and stared instead at James Potter, standing on her doorstep as though it was what he had been born to do. His hair was messy, his face caked with mud. His grin was lopsided and there were jagged tears splitting through his clothes. His eyes lit up as they met hers.

"Alright, Evans?"

Lily barely noticed her mum standing by her shoulder, her head tilted in confusion. Her dad stood by her other shoulder and leaned forward, frowning. "Lily, you might think this a silly question, but… this isn't Marlene, right?"

Slowly, Lily shook her head, all belief that she was prepared for the day abandoned. "No. No it is not."

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Five hours earlier

A crowded London street that teemed with families, shops, tourists, and stern-browed workers had three unique young individuals walking quickly along it, going to great efforts not to attract attention. The first was a pale faced, dark haired boy with a hooked nose and sallow skin. His clothes were shabby, his eyes a black abyss. He would scan his surroundings constantly, every move calculated, carrying the air of someone who really, really didn't want to be noticed.

Not far behind him were two other dark haired boys. The first, wearing glasses and sporting messy, unruly hair, slowed and turned around abruptly. "He's looking."

His friend, with well-groomed locks and a perpetually jaunty smile, stopped beside him and turned too, pretending to see something interesting in a shop window. "Did he see us?"

"No, I don't think so." Chancing a glance back at their quarry, the first boy craned his neck and his eyes widened as he saw greasy black hair turn a corner and disappear. "He's moving, let's go!" They turned back and hurried down the street, weaving through the shoppers and workers bustling about their business as the pair chased after the boy. They turned the corner and were met with another street, just as crowded and much longer. It was a sea of people, way too many to single any old one out, and after a few seconds of standing on tip-toe, desperately searching the tops of heads among the crowd, both boys gave up and stood there, panting, frustrated.

"Damn," said Sirius Black, smacking his fist into his palm. "We've lost him."

James Potter nodded, looking no less disappointed. "He's a slimy one, that Snape."

"No kidding." The two started down the street, still looking every which way, hoping to catch another glimpse of Severus Snape. "What do you reckon he was up to?"

James shrugged. "When someone as dodgy as Snape looks that eager to go unnoticed, it can only mean bad things."

The two had stumbled upon Snape just outside Diagon Alley as they walked down Charing Cross Road, on their way to the Leaky Cauldron. Knowing Snape did not live in the area, and being well-acquainted with the body language of a trouble-maker, the pair had needed no prompting to instantly take to following the unscrupulous Slytherin. The boys and their friends were already on high alert for Snape, knowing he led a small group of fellow student Death Eaters, and knowing that the group of them may have dastardly plans for the Christmas break.

"Why would Snape come here?" Sirius wondered aloud. "He doesn't strike me as the type to enjoy a crowded area."

"Which means," said James, narrowing his eyes, "eventually he would have moved to less crowded areas, away from prying eyes. I'm thinking back-alleys and narrow side-streets."

Sirius nodded. "I agree. But it's not like we can check every back-alley and side-street in London."

"I think he'll still be in this area. If he was heading somewhere far from here, he would have just apparated."

"Is he even seventeen?" Sirius asked with a frown. "Wouldn't he get done in for underage magic?"

"Not in the middle of London," snorted James. "The Trace doesn't check who uses the spell, just our location. These parts are densely populated with wizards, it wouldn't raise any red flags."

"Well, does he even know how to apparate? The Ministry classes at school don't start for another month."

"So? We apparate at home all the time."

"Yes, but is Snape even half as brilliant as we are, Prongs?"

James wrinkled his nose. "You're going to hate me for saying this-"

"Then don't say it."

"-but Snape is…"

"Don't."

"...quite talented, in his own right."

Sirius threw his hands in the air. "Damn it, Prongs! You need to stop hanging round Evans, you know that? You just gave Snivellus a compliment for absolutely no reason."

James rolled his eyes at his friend and inclined his head towards an alley on their left. "I'm in a generous mood." Sirius followed him into the alley. It was shady, and the air was slightly stale. The chattering, the noise, and the hustle and bustle of the street, was left behind the further they walked through the alley, carrying weakly towards them. It wasn't narrow, there was room enough for perhaps five people to stand shoulder-to-shoulder and not be cramped, but the looming walls, the strewn garbage bags and litter along the sides, seemed to cage the two boys in. James stopped.

"It's a dead end."

Sirius glanced at him briefly before peering ahead. "Are you sure? I can barely see anything down there." He walked ahead and James sighed.

"I'm telling you, it's blocked. I can see a wall there, Padfoot."

After a few more steps, Sirius stopped and turned, rubbing the back of neck and grimacing. Behind him was the wall. Too tall to jump, no handholds to climb over. If Snape had come this way, he clearly wasn't athletic enough to get past that.

"Told you," said James. Sirius didn't say anything, looking behind him with a flat stare. James turned and stiffened a little.

Four teenagers, perhaps a few years older than the pair, were at the other end of the alley. Muggles, as far as James could tell. Tall, bulky, and mean looking, the four of them barred the exit with the sort of assurance that only comes with practice. They were muggers, and this was not their first mugging.

James' hand instantly went to his wand and Sirius held his arm out, staying him. "We can't use magic," Sirius said quietly.

"We can obliviate them later. It's not a big deal."

"And if someone walks in? If we're caught? Underage magic and assault of some Muggles by two Pure-bloods does not look good, Prongs."

James hesitated. It was most unlike Sirius to be level-headed at a time like this, but he was right. Sirius started walking forwards, and with a grunt James caught up to him and walked alongside. He eyed the four teenagers shrewdly, grimy boys with leering smiles, who all straightened and stood at their tallest, chests stuck out and knuckles cracking as the pair drew near.

"You really think we can punch our way out?" James murmured to his friend. "There are four of them and only two of us."

"Then we outnumber them," said Sirius with a grim smile. "Don't you think?"

James sighed. "Maybe you need to hang out with Evans more, Padfoot. It would do you a world of good."

Sirius didn't respond. The four boys were right in front of them now, and the biggest of the lot, a blond haired boy with handsome features and an ugly sneer that extended up to wicked eyes, started speaking. "These two look rich, don't they, boys?" His friends jeered and sniggered behind him, and he turned to grin at them all. "I think we'll-"

Without breaking stride, Sirius rocked the boy in the face with his fist, smashing his nose and spurting blood into the air. His friends gave cries of surprise and outrage and they leaped forwards, past the injured boy. James clipped the first one on the chin, driving him back a few steps. The second rushed at him and he ducked under a clumsy punch and drove an elbow into his assailant's ribs. The boy grunted, and James dropped a shoulder and charged him into the wall, slamming him hard. When he stepped back, the boy slumped to the ground, whimpering in pain.

A few steps away, Sirius was weaving between the blonde boy and a brown haired, shorter boy with ratty features. James looked away quickly as the one he'd clipped on the chin reared back at him, snarling. James made to step forwards when the boy reached into his pocket and pulled out a knife, about the size of a razor blade. James' eyes widened and he jerked back, raising his hands, open, so he could bat away or catch any swipes from the sharp blade. The armed boy sensed his hesitation and moved forwards slowly, his confidence growing on his face, and he brandished the knife far in front of him to drive James further back. The weight of James' wand in his pocket started calling to him, but he cast it from his mind. It was not an option.

James moved forward suddenly, catching the boy by surprise, and he made a lunge for the knife. At the last moment the boy jerked his hand out of reach and then brought it back round for a wild swipe at James. James side-stepped around the swipe, reaching the boy's other side. He made to grab for the boy while his back was turned, but from the ground the attacker that James had rammed into the wall grabbed his leg, forcing him to stumble. The boy with the knife turned around and slashed at James. By luck alone, the knife cut through only fabric. James kicked the hands off his leg, cursing his assailant on the ground, and the boy with the knife took another slash at James. This one sliced through his sleeve, and again James counted himself lucky.

The boy on the ground seemed to have mustered his energy for one more small charge, ramming into James' legs with his shoulders and bringing James to the ground amid a string of curses. James wrestled with the boy on the ground, tasting dirt and grime, feeling it all rub into his skin. His other opponent kicked him in the head. It was a bad kick, barely clipping him, but it was enough to make his world rock. Stars appeared in his vision, there was a knife somewhere in front of him too. Wildly, James lifted his knees from his position on the ground and felt his right knee crack hard into something. His vision cleared in time for him to see the boy on the ground's eyes roll into the back of his head, and the boy collapsed, unmoving. The one with the knife kicked at James while he was distracted, and James rolled, dodging most of the kick's force but still getting caught in the ribs. He grunted, curling into a ball.

"We only wanted your money," said the boy, his voice rasping. "No one had to get hurt. But now… now you have to die."

James grimaced and rolled his eyes on the ground. When the boy was close enough he sprang up off the ground, in much the same way he would do a burpee exercise at Quidditch practice, and with his opponent's eyes still widening in surprise, knife hand yet to move, James rushed him, getting in his space before the boy could react. With a punch to the jaw, the boy fell.

James bent over him, watching him shift slightly and groan, and finally he pulled his wand out. James leaned close so not even the boy could see it. "Stupefy," he whispered. The boy jerked on the ground, before his body slumped and stopped moving. James simply hadn't wanted to take the risk.

He stood tall, wincing slightly before slouching again. He clutched his ribs and looked around. The blonde boy was unconscious, leaning against the wall. Sirius stood over his other opponent with his wand pressed to the boy's temple, before pocketing it. This boy slumped, unconscious now too.

James raised an eyebrow. "You cheated."

"Oh, please," said Sirius, rolling his eyes. "Don't think I didn't just see you stunning that one with the knife, Prongs. You're not as slick as you think."

They emerged from the alley, grimy, battered, but victorious. Three men in blue uniforms and clunky hats stared at them. They looked behind James and Sirius, at the four unconscious bodies.

"Stop right there," said the one closest to the pair, a man with thick eyebrows and a bushy mustache. He pulled a baton from a pouch on his waist. The other two followed his lead, stepping up alongside him with their own batons in hand.

"You reckon these are policemen?" Sirius whispered to James.

"Must be," James said under his breath.

"Stop whispering," the lead policeman yelled, stepping forward.

"Ready for round two?" asked Sirius, grinning with bared teeth.

James frowned. "No."

"Good. Neither."

James looked at him. The privilege of being as close to another person as James was to Sirius was that James knew exactly what his friend was thinking. They turned back to the policemen, who were approaching cautiously, pulling handcuffs from their belts.

"Look," James cried, pointing behind the blue clad figures, "what's that?"

The three of them actually turned, but James and Sirius didn't stick around long enough to see. They bolted down the street, taking no care now to go unnoticed, rushing past the shoppers and workers, bumping into some of them and not pausing to give apologies.

"Stop! You're under arrest!"

They turned a corner, ran down yet another crowded street. They weaved and side-stepped, bumped and ran on, street to street. "Down here," James said to Sirius, indicating an upcoming alley. They rushed into the alley, sprinted down the dark, narrow path.

"Better not be a dead end," Sirius muttered as they ran. James merely grunted, and they kept on running. The alley was long and winding, and there was very little light. Down the end, light shone where the alley met a street. "We've surely lost them by now," Sirius said, panting.

James nodded, and the two slowed as they reached the end of the alley. They emerged into an empty street. It was a neighbourhood. The houses were squat, the ground was stone and cobbled. Neither boy had a clue where they were.

"You think we can apparate out of here?" Sirius asked, looking around doubtfully. "This doesn't seem like a very magical part of London. We'll get busted, The Trace will surely pick us up."

James nodded. "You're right. I don't suppose you have any Floo powder on you, by any chance?"

Sirius shook his head grimly. "None."

"It looks like we'll have to make our way back on foot, then." Both boys let out sighs, and grudgingly faced the alley again. As they made to walk back, they heard a noise from the cobbled stone street behind them. They turned and peeked out.

"No way," whispered Sirius.

Severus Snape walked down the street, no longer looking cagey or overly-cautious. He passed their little alley without noticing the two boys, and continued on his way. James couldn't believe their luck. He didn't even need to look at Sirius. Wordlessly, they started following their quarry once more. They kept to a great distance behind him - they couldn't let Snape turn and see them.

Down the street the three walked, the first none the wiser to his two tails. Snape reached the end of the street, and James and Sirius stiffened, ducked behind the fence of a decrepit house. Mulciber, Rosier, and Travers, alongside two Seventh Years, Julius Avery and Antonin Dolohov Junior, stood by a wall near the end of the street. The wall was graffitied and chipped, standing by itself as though once part of a much bigger wall, but was now the last two meters' length of brick left standing. As the two Gryffindors watched, a figure emerged from the wall, stepping out of it like it was an average door. The man was tall, wearing black robes and carrying a Death Eater mask in his hand.

"Now," Sirius whispered to James, "we might be outnumbered."

James snorted. "Clearly. We need to get closer."

Sirius hesitated, then nodded. They crept along the length of the fence, keeping themselves out of sight. Voices from the group ahead started carrying over to the two, and when the words were legible, the voices distinct, the boys stopped where they were.

"-long do we have to wait for?" That voice belonged to Travers, James reckoned.

A deep voice he didn't recognize, with a strong Russian accent that must have belonged to the newcomer, responded. "A few more hours. The train does not stop on this continent very often."

James and Sirius looked at each other with frowns. The train?

Dolohov spoke up. "Why couldn't we catch a train from King's Cross?"

"This is a magical train," the man said, his voice sounding testy. He didn't seem like the type who worked with children or teenagers very often, if at all. "It does not stop at King's Cross. Strictly speaking, it is not even legal. We will wait here, and the train will come for us before the night is out."

"But how soon?" Dolohov pressed.

The man regarded him shrewdly. "You are so keen for this mission to begin?"

Dolohov stood straighter. "I am eager to prove myself, sir."

The man stared at him for a few more seconds, before he nodded and surveyed the rest of them. "Good. You will certainly get the opportunity to do so - you all will. By the end, the Dark Lord will be very impressed with you all, I am sure. The train will be here in a matter of hours." He turned and walked back through the brick wall, disappearing. The Slytherins started talking amongst themselves excitedly.

Sirius turned to James, eyebrows raised. "I'm sure you aren't opposed to bringing in reinforcements." His tone was casual, but his eyes betrayed his worry.

James nodded firmly, his own eyes set on the Slytherins. "Yes, Padfoot. Now is a good time to call in the cavalry."

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Lily got over her surprise and crossed her arms, glaring at him. "What are you doing here, Potter?"

James looked at her like it was obvious. "I'm here to pick you up, of course."

"Pick her up?" Mr Evans repeated, his eyes narrowing. "Who are you? My daughter is not going anywhere with you."

"Not without some tea first, at any rate," said Mrs Evans lightly, clasping her hands and beaming at James. "What is your name, dear?"

He cast his most charming smile onto Lily's mother, and if Lily were not so nonplussed at his arrival she might have found herself blushing. "James Potter. It is my absolute pleasure to meet you, Mrs Evans. You truly do share your daughter's radiance."

Lily rolled her eyes and her mother chuckled. Mr Evans' frown only deepened, looking between his wife and James with his lips pursed. He wagged a finger at James. "You leave my wife and daughter alone, boy, you hear me?"

Mrs Evans swatted her husband's arm. "Oh, shut it, dear. James is nothing short of a gentleman. Do come in, James. I can make you some hot cocoa, if you'd like?"

"I would love to take you up on that offer, Mrs Evans, but perhaps another time-"

"-or never," Mr Evans interrupted, glaring at James.

"Unfortunately," James continued, not letting Lily's father shake him at all, "we are on a rather tight schedule, and really must be heading off now."

"Rather tight schedule for what?" asked Lily suspiciously. "Where's Marlene?"

"She's with Sirius," he said, turning his grin on her with a heart-stopping twinkle in his eye.

"And where are they?"

"They're grabbing Frank and Alice. I volunteered to come get you."

She refused to let herself grin at him. "Potter, what is going on? Why are you here?"

"Yes," said Mr Evans loudly. "Young man, why are you here?"

Mrs Evans put her hands to her cheeks and beamed at James and Lily. "They're going on a date!"

Lily's own cheeks reddened. "That is the last thing that this is, I assure you."

"It seems somewhat like a date to me," said Mr Evans, his frown deepening.

"It can be," James offered. "I'm not opposed to that."

"I am," Lily and her father said at the same time.

"It's decided then," Mrs Evans decided, beaming. "It's a date."

"It is not decided," Lily decided back, glaring at the lot of them. "It really, really isn't. Now James and I, it seems, have somewhere to be." She marched inside and grabbed her bags before marching on out again to stand beside him. "So, if you will excuse us." She looked at James expectantly and he nodded after a moment, placing a light hand on her shoulder and letting her lead the way down the driveway. She waved at her parents as they walked.

"I don't like this," Mr Evans called from the door.

Mrs Evans pushed past him. "He'll grow to like it, Lily, don't you worry! Go on and have fun with your boyfriend!"

Mr Evans stole Lily's words as Lily and James reached the sidewalk. "He is not her boyfriend!"

Lily shook her head at both her parents, waved one more time, and when her house had disappeared behind shrubs and neighbours and fences, she glanced at James. He was looking ahead, his glasses slightly askew, dirt rubbed into his face. Still she felt herself grow nervous, walking alone with him. He looked filthy, yet still she felt a blush creep on as he glanced sideways at her, meeting her gaze, and grinned that stupid, warming, stomach-churning grin.

Oh, she had it bad.

"What?" he asked.

She quickly smothered her feelings, drowning the blush. "What do you mean, what? Tell me where we're going and why you're here, or so help me, Potter, I will-"

He stopped abruptly and turned to face her. He raised his fist. It occurred to her then that his fist had been clenched this entire time, like he was holding an invisible stick of chalk. With his other hand he pulled at something in the air, and to Lily's shock a cloak came with it. Silky, silvery, and beautifully woven, it flowed from his hand like a waterfall. In his clenched fist was a broomstick. Lily's appreciation for broomsticks was limited, but even she could tell it was both expensive and probably very, very fast.

It took some seconds for Lily to find her words. "Ignoring the fact that you are holding an invisibility cloak, and that as a Prefect, I now have very definitive proof for a lot of unpunished deeds, Potter," she paused, and he waited patiently, "it occurs to me that you're about to ask me to get on that broomstick. I'll save you the trouble. No."

He spoke simply. "We can't apparate."

"Why ever not?"

"In this neighbourhood, Evans? We'll get done in for under-age magic. And this way, we get to have a romantic broomstick ride across the country. Doesn't that sound grand?"

"You cannot be serious."

"No, I'm not," he admitted. "We're flying to a magical suburb not far from here. We'll apparate to my place from there."

"That raises another question, Potter. Why are we going to your place?"

"One thing at a time, Evans." She wasn't sure how it happened, but suddenly she found herself perched on the back of the broomstick. James climbed on in front of her. "Arms round my waist, Evans, if you please. Tight. I'd rather not have to scrape you off the pavement."

Tentatively, she wrapped her arms around him. She could rest her chin on his shoulder. She didn't though. He smelled good. The skin on his neck made her want to touch it and she didn't know why. All of this should have led to something romantic.

He took off suddenly and she screamed, and they flew very fast.

It wasn't romantic.

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Marlene's parents were Pure-bloods. Their house was unnecessarily large, their wealth immense, their sensibilities grand and haughty.

And even she thought Potter Manor was outrageously glamorous. She had been here in the past, for functions and high tea, but never of her own volition. She stood with Lily in the 'small' library, as James had called it, which was three times the size of the Gryffindor Common Room. House-elves wandered from shelf to shelf, adding and replacing books. Even their pillowcase garments looked exquisite.

Lily seemed confunded by it all. "There I was thinking he's really not that daunting," she mumbled.

Marlene looked at her oddly. "Since when did you think James is daunting?"

"Nothing. I didn't. I don't."

A slow nod. "Okay."

"Big."

"What?"

Lily gestured vaguely. "The house is just big."

"Right. Well it is a Manor."

"It's a Manor?" She looked like she might faint.

"Yes it's a- Have you looked at it, Lily?"

Lily looked defensive. "James apparated us straight in here! I haven't even seen the rest of the place, how should I know what it looks like from the outside?"

Understanding dawned on Marlene. "You're still not used to side-along apparition. That's why you're so weird."

"I'm weird? Erm, yes, that's why I'm weird." Lily paused and sighed. "This whole time I thought your place was ridiculously big."

"It is. Just not quite as extravagant as all this."

James approached, followed by Sirius, Frank, Alice, and Peter. "Extravagance comes in all shapes and sizes, McKinnon. Us Potters only know how to do things in excess, though." They gathered around a small table.

Remus walked over from another part of the library, his nose in a book, before he stopped at the table and looked at them all. "I've got it. It's called the Dàochù train. When the Chinese Ministry banned portkeys forty years ago, a powerful witch called Táoyì created a train that can go to any place, at any time. It was meant to revolutionize travel, but because it would allow immigration to be unregulated, as well as take money away from Ministries around the world seeing as no-one would keep paying for portkeys and apparition papers to cross borders, most Ministries ending up banning it. As a result, it's mainly used for smuggling purposes, and draws in a somewhat dodgy crowd."

"Do we know where it stops?" James asked.

Remus nodded. "Obviously, there is the wall that you and Sirius saw Snape's lot hanging around. Walking through the wall gets you onto a platform similar to Nine and Three-Quarters, and from there you can board the train. But to get on the platform, to walk through the wall, you must have a boarding pass on your person, or else you will be obliterated."

Marlene frowned. "Obliterated?"

Remus waved the book in the air. "That's what it says. Irrespective of what exactly that means, it doesn't sound pleasant."

"Do we know where the train stops before that specific wall?" Frank asked.

"Yes. It stops at a very similar wall in a small town in Oxfordshire. I've already acquired the Floo address of a house nearby, so all we need are some boarding passes. What do you guys reckon?"

The eight of them stood around, staring at each other for a moment. Were they really going to put themselves out there, jump headfirst into yet another very dangerous, very avoidable situation?

One by one, each set of eyes steeled, resolves being forged. The answer, clearly, was yes.

Marlene spoke first. "Where do we get the boarding passes?"

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Antonin Dolohov Junior did not consider himself arrogant, but he also felt somewhat embittered by the way certain gears seemed to be turning. He was a Seventh Year taking orders from Severus Snape, a Sixth Year. Where was the sense in that? There was no rhyme or reason to the decision, as far as Antonin could tell. No, he did not consider himself arrogant at all, but he still had a growing locust inside of him telling him that he was every bit as talented, clever, and commanding as Snape, if not more so.

The group of Slytherins, as well as the big Russian man, Adrian Chernov, sat close together near the back of a carriage at the very end of the long train. The group didn't talk much. Adrian didn't seem particularly interested in conversing with any of them, giving Antonin the impression that he felt he'd been stuck with a babysitting job. The disheartening feeling of talents being wasted, that's how Antonin felt having to answer to Severus Snape.

He sighed and got to his feet. None of them looked up. He didn't expect them to.

Antonin walked along the carriage. A few other people were scattered along the rows of seats, keeping to themselves. They were all roguish looking folk, shifty, with a dangerous look in their eyes. One man, sitting by himself, had an eyepatch. Antonin couldn't lie, that was quite cool.

He walked to the next carriage. There were only eight other people in this one. He looked out the window. It was an odd sight. The Dàochù train didn't travel along tracks, nor through temporal space. Therefore, when he looked out it wasn't nature that he saw, or the countryside. Instead he saw… space. He didn't think it could be described. There were colors and shapes and moving things, but they never formed a cohesive image until the train stopped, at which point he could look at frothy seas on the coast of New Zealand, the tempestuous sands of Egypt, a heavily graffitied wall in France. It was nice, he supposed.

Someone was looking at him. Antonin snapped his gaze over to a portly boy sitting close to where he was. He met the boy's watery eyes, which widened, and the boy quickly hid his face behind a magazine. The boy had looked familiar for a moment, but not enough to make Antonin approach him. He walked on. The other seven people in the carriage didn't look over. They were all busy. At the front of the compartment, a boy with dark, messy hair had his head resting against the window. He was sleeping. A red-haired girl sitting behind him was reading a book, her head down, looking far too interested in it. Now that Antonin thought about it, all eight of them were hiding their faces in some way or another. A hand, a book, something was tucking each of their faces away. A blond haired boy was immersed completely in fiddling with his shirt. No shirt was that interesting. Antonin walked closer. There was sweat on the side of the boy's face. The boy met Antonin's eyes. It was Frank Longbottom.

"Stupefy!"

Antonin went flying back, knocked his head against a seat, hit the ground. His vision blurred and his body ignored his mind's urge to move. He was dimly aware of the seven others gathering around him and talking. His hands were bound. He could feel wire digging into the skin. Some time later, he registered being propped upright and his vision cleared. The eight of them surrounded him. Antonin opened his mouth to call for help.

"Call for help," said a boy with wavy black locks… Sirius Black, Antonin noted with an internal groan, "and I'll break your face."

Slowly, Antonin nodded.

"Good," said Frank Longbottom, next to Black. "Thank you for your cooperation, Dolohov. Now, we have a lot of ques-"

Antonin opened his mouth wide again to call for help.

When he woke up hours later in a train station in Amritsar, India, the last thing Antonin could remember was the proximity of Sirius Black's knuckles.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

The Gryffindors spent some time arguing over what to do with Dolohov's unconscious body. All but one of them were fine with leaving him on the train. Lily had said that might be dangerous for him. The rest of them saw that only as a good thing. As far as Remus was concerned, forgiveness could be damned when it came to serial killers and their hulking, brainless minions. So when they saw the Slytherins and the big Russian man getting off the train at an otherwise empty platform, the Gryffindors left Dolohov on the train, waited for their quarries to pass through a brick wall at the end of the small platform, and disembarked together.

Frank peaked his head through the brick wall, made sure there was cover on the other side for the group to hide behind, and they followed him through. Remus shielded his eyes as he emerged from the dimly lit platform and stepped into a wet, grassy meadow at the top of a hill. The sun glared down at them, scaring away dark clouds that roiled off to sulk elsewhere in the sky. Land stretched out from the hill in all directions. There were towns in the distance, spread out and separated by farmland and dirt tracks. At the very bottom of the hill was one such town, large and dusty. Remus spied the Slytherins approaching the town below them.

"Where are we?" asked Sirius.

Frank was still surveying the land around them, scrutinizing the horizon. "It's hard to say. I'm guessing we're still in Europe, but I could be wrong." He joined Remus in looking down at the town, and the rest followed suit. "We have no idea what we're getting ourselves into."

Alice shook her head. "Nope."

"And we're all fine with going in blind? We just walk down the hill and straight into the town?"

They all looked at each other, expressions flat. Then they walked down the hill and straight towards the town. Keeping low as they walked, just in case someone at the bottom looked over, they scaled their way down in silence and approached the town. There was a sign stuck into the ground, words written on it in a language Remus didn't understand.

"Eastern European, I think," Frank said quietly.

"How do you know?" asked James.

"I don't know, I said I think."

"So it might not be, then."

"No, I'm sure it is."

"If you're sure, then how do you know?"

Frank growled. "I just have a feeling, Potter."

They crept into the town. "So you're not sure," James said.

"Does it matter?"

No one was on the streets, and the Slytherins had disappeared. The group flattened themselves against a wall, doing their best to be quiet. "It does matter," James whispered. "Our location tells us how much danger we're in. There's a lot of Death Eater activity in Eastern Europe. Very little in, say, Asia, or Africa."

"Well you can rule those out," said Frank. "That sign wasn't in an Asian or African language."

"But how do you know that?"

"I can just tell, okay?"

"If you both don't shut up," Marlene breathed, "I will give you the beating of a fucking lifetime-"

"I'll give you a detention," Frank whispered.

James nodded. "And Lily will also give you a detention, on my behalf."

"I will do no such thing," said Lily.

Remus shuffled to the edge of the wall, peeked out. "Hey, it's clear. Let's go." He crept out from behind cover. The others followed behind him, still bickering. He crouched as he walked. Peter appeared by his side, his brow furrowed in determination and concentration. Remus nodded to him and Peter nodded back. They walked on, came to the end of a street.

Remus raised a hand sharply. Everyone stopped behind him and looked at him curiously. "Do you hear that?" he whispered. They paused, listening.

"Voices," Alice said quietly.

"Lots of them," Remus added. "From up ahead." Remus leaned against the side of a crumbling house and edged forward, looking past the house, round the corner of the street. "Nothing. Let's keep moving." They followed him round the corner and down the street. Remus could still hear a couple of them whispering behind him, but he ignored them. The voices ahead were much louder now. It wasn't raucous. It sounded instead like an amiable tea party, the tones calm and level. He leaned against the side of another house as he approached the end of the street. The voices came from right up ahead. He crept forward, and then, in a quick jerk, he risked a peek round the corner and flung himself back. Death Eaters, a small army of them, gathered in a courtyard. Masked faces turned to each other as they chatted away. No clear leader, no one at the forefront. Their number was somewhere in the fifties, maybe more.

Remus' expression seemed to say it all. The others looked at him, each taking it in turns to stand where Remus had stood and risk a quick peek ahead. Each looked back with wide eyes. Eventually, wordlessly, once they were all satisfied and shocked in woefully unequal measure, they walked back the way they'd come.

Frank spoke first, looking at James and Sirius. "I'm assuming that the two of you also contacted Dumbledore, right? Any word on when he'll show up?" Neither of the two responded. "You must not have heard me."

"We heard you."

"Then give me a damn answer."

James looked at him flatly. "We didn't contact anyone else. Sirius went straight to Marlene, the two of them went to get Alice, and then they picked you up. Pete and Remus made their way to my place by themselves. I went to pick up Lily. The eight of us… that's all we have."

Frank shook his head. "That's not good enough. We'll all die, James. That was an army back there. I'm all for the adventure, or the fun of it, or whatever you think the appeal is to fighting a whole army, but I also don't want to die. I'm calling this off. We're reporting to Dumbledore and letting the adults handle this."

James opened his mouth again and Lily placed a hand on his shoulder. "He's right, Potter. We're all eager to get our hands dirty and do our part, but today's just not the day. We'll have other chances."

James looked torn, glanced at Sirius. The two shared a look that Remus had seen many times. Whatever James would do, Sirius would do with him. The purest form of unconditional support. Seeing that look, despite knowing how dumb this was, how dangerous, how irresponsible, Remus felt the words leap from his mouth. "I'm with you, James," he said quietly. "Say the word, and I'm all in. We'll do this." James gazed at him and for the first time, Remus shared that same look with James, and his heart grew full. This was what it felt like.

Beside him, legs quivering but his face set, Peter spoke up as well. "I'm- I'm in too, James. You can count on me."

James looked at his three friends, his eyes full of a profound emotion that Remus couldn't capture with words, and then looked at the others, at Frank and Marlene's disapproving frowns, at Alice, her hands clasped and her face pleading … and at Lily's expressionless gaze. There was something in Lily's eyes, too, that Remus couldn't quite place. She and James shared a look for a few seconds, before James turned back, his eyes closed, and he sighed. "No. They're right, this is dangerous. I'm not putting your lives in danger."

Frank let out a breath and shook his head in relief, clapping James on the shoulder. "Good man. That's the right choice." They started down the street again, breathing easier. "Now let's get out of here."

They turned the corner and walked into two masked figures in black robes - the garbs of Death Eaters. Their cold masks leered and the teens stumbled back, walked right into two more Death Eaters behind them, having sneaked up without any of them noticing.

One of the figures in front chuckled lightly. "Where are you going, kids?" He nodded behind them. "The party's that way."

James spoke, his voice controlled, devoid of the fear that Remus felt clutching at his chest. "Sorry, it's a Tuesday. I hate partying on a Tuesday."

"It's Friday," said a Death Eater behind them.

"It is? That's even worse. I make it a point to never party on a Friday."

"You're going to die," said the first Death Eater quietly. "All of you. You don't look nearly scared enough."

"Because we have you outnumbered," said Frank, his shoulders square, his eyes level with each of the Death Eaters'. "Eight to four."

The first Death Eater wagged a finger. "You are all children. We are trained killers, boy. Do not think these odds to be even."

"We accept your surrender," said James. The Death Eaters snorted, and James continued. "Face the wall, close your eyes, and count to ten. Those are our terms."

The first Death Eater shook his head and stepped forward, eyes on James. "I'll kill this one first, I think."

James snarled, fingers curling around the wand in his back pocket. "Come get it."

They both pulled their wands out in a flash just as two figures dropped down from the roof above, each one flattening two Death Eaters between them. A stunning spell, a binding spell, a jinx and a hex, and the four Death Eaters stayed on the ground, unmoving. Caradoc Dearborn and Professor Windstrum looked up at the eight stunned teenagers, amusement dancing in both their eyes.

"What a small world," said Windstrum. "I can't go anywhere without running into my students."

Caradoc crossed his arms. "What business could you lot possibly have in the Czech Republic?"

"Where exactly is the Czech Republic?" Peter whispered.

"Eastern Europe," said Frank smugly, looking at James. James shook his head at the Head Boy.

"The same as you two, I imagine," said Remus, smiling at the two men wryly. "Nice to see you again, by the way, Caradoc."

"Remus!" Caradoc beamed at him and clapped him on the shoulder. Footsteps approached from around the corner and the two men straightened and looked at the teens quickly. "Link up," said Caradoc. "Let's go."

The ten of them quickly held hands. The moment they were all connected, they apparated. Remus felt space crush him and pull at him and chew him and spit him back out, and his feet hit the ground again. People rushed around him. He turned on the spot, taking in his new surroundings. It was a house. Thin corridors, peeling wallpaper, dusty chandeliers. The people walking about were hurried, their expressions serious and occupied. "Where are we?" he asked. Caradoc and Windstrum started walking, and the teens followed along, being led down the corridors.

"I'm assuming," said Windstrum, "that Frank has relayed to the rest of you the situation at the Ministry right now?" They all nodded and he continued, greeting a few people that passed as he walked. "In short, the Ministry is frozen. Morgan Bulstrode is in charge, and he's probably a Death Eater. Eamon Fawcett, also probably a Death Eater, is Head of the Auror Department. So we can't go to official bodies of power for help. That's why we've amassed here a collection of people we trust and who want to help us. Unofficially, of course." The two men stopped in front of an open door and beckoned the teens in. It was a small room, no decorations or furniture apart from a cluttered desk. At the desk sat a heavily scarred, grizzly haired man with glinting dark eyes.

Alastor Moody surveyed the eight teens before him, and his lip curled. Whether or not that was a good thing, Remus couldn't tell. When the man spoke in the growling voice of a warrior, everyone listened. "You lot are exceptionally thick for involving yourselves in all this. I hope you know that." The teens hesitated and looked at each other, not knowing what to say. James looked like he might say something along the lines of Yes, we do know that, but Moody shook his head and raised a hand before the messy haired boy could start. "In any case, welcome. We still need a name for what this all is, but essentially you are looking at our very own Ministry of Magic." Some rats scurried into a hole in the wall, and a piece of timber fell from the ceiling and hit the ground.