Disclaimer: Well. Here it is, the last chapter of Wide Awake. Gah, I can't believe it's done!

As I said in the first epilogue chapter, I wish I could take the post-Hogwarts storylines and flesh them out more, but it took me almost a year to write this bit and it was seriously hard to sit and create some of these scenes (especially Peter's, that dragged on for months). So I know I wouldn't have the motivation to do a whole 30+ chapter thing again. I did my best to weave everything together and I'm sure there are some loose ends still out there, but here's my attempt. This is where a lot of the Hogwarts days plots were going, hope you still like it even though it deserved so much more.

I will also note that in doing a bunch of researching, I came across different accounts of when the Potters went into hiding. I chose to cherrypick things I felt went along with the rest of the plot, but I don't think it's too off cannon!

Things I don't own

Get Down Tonight - KC and the Sunshine Band

Donna Summer, Grace Jones and Rick James

Desiderio Napoletano

Translations

"Brutto bastardo, pensi di essere un gangster?" - You fucking bastard, you think you're a gangster?

And a special shoutout to Pretty Lights' "I Know the Truth". If you know the song, you'll catch the reference towards the end.


"Catch me if you can. It won't be easy to do. And I'm warning you brother, I won't be leaving no clues." - Eric Clapton, 1981


"WAHHHH!"

"James!"

"What?"

"WAHHHH!"

"Harry's being fussy!"

"He's always fussy, he's a few weeks old."

"WAHHHH!"

"Don't you sass me. I've changed his nappie, given him food, burped him, I'm at my wits end here -"

"WAHHHH!"

"He just wants his Dada."

Lily Evans let out an exasperated sigh as James came to lift Harry out of his crib and cradle him in his arms; Harry slowly quieted down as he rocked him back and forth.

"See? Now let's explore, Harry. Just you and me."

As James walked out of the nursery and doted over their son, Lily felt an intense sense of dismay as she lowered herself into a chair next to his crib and began to sob. She was exhausted to say the least, having to wake up every couple of hours to feed Harry. But she was also still recovering from giving birth, especially since the boy had broken her tailbone on his way out. Her breasts were engorged, her nipples sore. She still had intermittent cramping as her uterus slowly shrunk back to its normal size. But worst of all, she didn't realize that she'd slipped into postpartum depression.

She hated that she couldn't fully provide for her son; she hated that she was cooped up in her own home. Her unplanned pregnancy had been a bit of a shock - after all, many considered the Potters to still be kids at the age of twenty - but after accepting the news, she'd been determined to give her child the best despite the sinister War going on around them. And leaning on her best friend Alice, who was going through her own unplanned pregnancy, had been a godsend. Yet after learning about the prophecy, it'd been harder to keep her spirits up. Her hormones and limited freedom caused her to occasionally fight with James and resent him; he in turn became just as frustrated and resorted to stomping off to the other end of the house for some separation after they snapped each other. They attended Order meetings when they could for some socialization, but it was always a dangerous affair for them to leave the house. Moody didn't like it and often told them to stay home, relaying meeting notes with his patronus; friends would also keep them informed when they managed to stop by, but no one had been over in awhile.

"Seems he just wanted to sleep," said James, breaking her from her thoughts. Lily wiped away her tears and watched him lower back into his crib. James frowned and made his way over to Lily. "Come here, let me hold you properly."

Lily gradually stood, still exhausted and convinced that she was a horrible mother. She knew babies didn't come with instruction manuals, but she'd expected to at least be a decent parent - someone who could figure out how to stop their child from crying. James wrapped his arms around her and she placed her head on his shoulder, not caring enough to stop the tears. He rocked her back and forth with tenderness and compassion and Lily savored the moment, despite desperately wanting to fall asleep in his embrace.

However a few moments later, her hairs stood up in attention as she heard a few small pops! coming from their living room; James heard them too. They rushed over, wands at the ready to defend themselves, but immediately lowered them when they saw their friends. Remus, Marianne and Molly were smiling back at them and a few seconds later, joined by Sirius and Gemma.

"What's wrong? What's happened?" James asked.

"I didn't think there was an Order meeting recently," Lily added. She didn't bother to wipe the stray tears from her face.

"There wasn't," Marianne smiled, walking over to take her hand. Lily felt confused, but squeezed back, enjoying their skin to skin contact. They'd formed a sisterly bond after all of Marianne's law office coworkers mysteriously disappeared and she'd been put under more Order surveillance for her protection; they both knew what it was like to be unemployed and restricted.

"Then what's going on?"

"Well we've got something to discuss, not sure why you're here Padfoot."

"I'm not quite sure either, mate -"

"I need to see Harry," Gemma interrupted. The room fell eerily silent. "I just need to get a good look at him. I won't be long." Lily furrowed her brows. Her request was peculiar, but her face said it was important.

"Alright. But he's sleeping, so we'll need to be quiet. This way."

Before the others could get a word in, Lily turned and led Gemma to Harry's crib, Sirius choosing to stay behind. The Seer gingerly stepped into the nursery and eventually made it to Lily's side. A hot, nervous flush crept up her neck as she observed Harry; she said nothing, only giving Lily a curt nod before going back to the living room. Lily followed, intrigued.

"I need you to take me to Dumbledore," Gemma said to Sirius.

"I'll be a little late to Scotland then, mates," he said with a salute, not questioning his girlfriend despite not knowing what was going on. "See you there."

"Scotland?" said James.

"Sorry to interrupt," Gemma started, turning to Remus. "Had no idea we'd be overlapping. But maybe this is what my tea leaves were trying to tell me, come to think of it. Oh well, missed that clue." She then moved to face Lily and James. "I'll explain later." After giving them both quick hugs, she said goodbye and turned back to Sirius. He nodded, took her hand and side-apparated the both of them to presumably find the Headmaster.

"What's going on in Scotland?" Lily finally asked to break the silence after they left.

"That's what we're here to talk about," Marianne answered.

"We're here to give you a break, dears," said Molly.

"A break?"

"But we can't. We have to protect Harry."

"We can't risk -"

"We've set up the necessary precautions," Remus cut in. "We're taking both of you out the house and Molly will stay here to look after Harry."

"Out of the house?" James said, his eyes almost popping out of his sockets. "Surely Mad-Eye's objected to this."

"Of course he has," Marianne laughed. "But Dumbledore's overruled him."

"I convinced him to let you have a moment of peace," Molly explained. "You've both been through so much and you're so strong - I can't even imagine what it's been like to be here all alone. Arthur and I had our parents to help and you … well, it's time for you to have some help too. We've all been so busy -"

"The Order comes first," James cut in.

"The mental health of its members is important and cannot be overlooked," Molly clarified. She wasn't an Order member herself, but her brothers, Fabian and Gideon, were. She understood the effects fighting Death Eaters had on people. "I'm sorry it's taken this long, but please. Let us do this. Remus will take James, Marianne will take Lily."

"You mean we'll be apart? I don't know about this …"

"We'll take you to Order safe houses, with Fidelius Charms - James to Scotland, Lily to Dover. Marianne and I are the Secret Keepers and other Order members will be there in case anything goes wrong. We're confident this will work. Moody's done everything he can to protect you, despite his misgivings."

"Ok."

"Lily, you can't be serious -"

"They're right." She looked at the floor before continuing, a bit ashamed to be airing their dirty laundry in front of friends. But despite her husband's protest, the thought of being without him out of the house sounded lovely. She still loved him desperately, but felt some time apart would do them some good. "We're fighting too much. And I'm starting to lose it." She then addressed Molly. "I want to take Harry with me." She knew her heart would ache being away from him.

"Lily dear, it's ok to be away from him for awhile too. You can do whatever you like with the girls once you're there." Lily wrapped her arms around her waist and let out a huge sigh. She looked up at the ceiling, trying to understand if she could really be away from her child; the boy who was in danger.

"It will be good for you," Marianne said, softly placing a hand on her shoulder. Lily started to sob again.

"Am - am I a bad mother for leaving him?"

"Not at all. Now come with me." Lily took a moment to acknowledge her husband; he looked scared, but wrapped her up in his arms and kissed her nonetheless.

"I love you."

"I love you too. With my whole heart. Now Moony, I guess it's time. Take me to Scotland."

And with that, Remus and Marianne revealed the secret locations. James went to the nursery to say goodbye to Harry and apparated away with his best friend; Lily had a harder time leaving, stopping for a few minutes to stroke Harry's cheek and watch him sleep before she took Marianne's hand. She endured the uncomfortable feeling of apparating and opened her eyes to a wonderful surprise. She was standing on a rocky beach in front of the famous white cliffs of Dover.

Her surroundings overwhelmed her at first; she hadn't been to the beach in the months. But her anxieties quickly settled and relaxed. Lily took deeper breaths and closed her eyes to better experience the sound of waves crashing, smell of the ocean and feeling of wind whipping through her hair. It was magical; she felt reborn. Lily opened her eyes and let out another sob, this time out of happiness instead of sadness. She didn't think she had anymore tears to cry, but they still came. And when she turned to see Alice, Marlene and Dorcas standing behind her, she cried even harder; they had all become best friends since joining the Order, despite not being close at school. The women came and enveloped her in a large group hug and Lily melted into their embrace and basked in their female energy. It was just what she needed. She wailed endlessly until she felt utterly exhausted. Happy, but exhausted.

"Thank you. I don't know what else say, I'm just … so tired."

"Then come rest."

"Where?"

"I'll show you."

Lily followed Marianne towards the cliffs, not quite knowing what was going to happen. Once they walked to the edge of the beach, the Ravenclaw said an incantation and summoned a secret doorway. She opened it and revealed a small house nestled in the rocky cliff. Once inside, Lily let out a content sigh as she scanned over the small sitting area and kitchen; the rustic house had fake windows that let you still look out at the sea. Marianne turned a doorknob in the corner and revealed a small bedroom and bathroom.

"Have a rest, take as long as you need. We'll be here when you wake."

Her tiredness finally won; she acquiesced and fell into bed, instantly falling asleep. In what seemed like minutes later, Lily's body remembered her baby and woke her with a start. But she reminded herself that Harry wasn't there and eventually dragged herself out of bed after hearing the women's chatter from the other room. She took a shower and felt a bit rested, but wished she'd slept for longer.

"How long have I been out?"

"A few hours," Alice replied. "I rested as well, so don't feel bad."

"Neville doing alright?"

"Oh yes, he's just always hungry it seems. Especially in the middle of the night."

"Lily, would you like some tea?"

"Jasmine green if you have it."

"So how are you doing, darling?" said Dorcas. Lily wrapped her fingers around the steaming mug Marianne had given her.

"I'm ecstatic to be here. I can't thank you enough, this is exactly what I needed. It's going to take me a second to sort of process all of this though - I don't get much adult social interaction these days. I feel like I'm so out of the loop. I'm just … oh, just exhausted. And a bit scared. And … lonely. James is wonderful but ..."

"But it's hard to be the only female in a house of males," Marlene snorted into her cup. Lily blushed and looked down at her lap, not wanting to admit that she was absolutely right.

"He really is a wonderful father though. So devoted to Harry."

"I never doubted it."

"You're just going to have to keep Harry out of trouble when he gets to Hogwarts. He's bound to get into some mischief with a father and godfather like he has."

"I'm sure Remus will help keep him in line."

"Despite being a Prefect, Remus still broke the rules," Marianne said slyly.

"And so did you!"

The women laughed and took a moment to sip their tea.

"So what have I missed? What's new with you Dorcas?"

"I've just been named our French correspondent. Would have asked Marianne to partner with me, but Mad Eye thought it would be too dangerous." The Ravenclaw, a bit ashamed, looked down at her lap and Lily reached out to take her hand.

"Have you been back then? Since Hogwarts?"

"No. The Laurents hitched their carriage to Voldemort so I'm not welcome there. They're still mad I didn't marry Lestrange. It's ok, though." Marianne squeezed her hand, but Lily saw through her tough facade. She could tell that the former heiress was growing weary of dodging her past. "Living in Hogsmeade means I still get to see my sisters. Well, not Gabrielle, she's decided it's too risky to talk to me. But Nanette stops by the flat when she's not exploring."

"Oh to be a student again," Dorcas said wistfully.

The women took another moment to pause, sip their tea and silently agree.

"What about you Marlene?"

"I'm about to go to Wales and convince a group of giants to fight for the right side," she smiled. "Benjy'll be going with me."

"Be sure to bring some fresh meat," Alice snorted. "Frank forgot last time and almost had his legs ripped off."

"Giants are nasty buggers, aren't they?"

"Nasty indeed."

"I prefer them to vampires though, they're so scary and -"

The women all jumped to attention when there was a knock on the door; Lily instinctively reached for her wand, despite knowing she was in a safe house. Marianne, however, didn't seem perturbed. She got up and opened the door and Gemma stepped inside. Her blonde hair was windswept and messy from spending time by the sea.

"Thanks. I couldn't really do the spell to open the door."

"When did you get here?" Lily said with an inviting smile before giving her a hug. She thought it was a bit peculiar that the Seer was there despite not being a member, but guessed the Order had bent the norms to support her little break.

"While you were sleeping. I just stepped out for a moment to take in the view. It's not every day you get the cliffs all to yourself." The room fell silent again as Marianne poured Gemma a cup of mint tea. Lily noticed the other women's faces looked expectant.

"Tell her, she's awake now," Alice coaxed. Gemma frowned slightly and motioned for Lily to sit next to her. Lily did so and took a blanket from the chair, wrapping it around herself.

"I'm sorry if I scared you earlier," Gemma began. "I didn't mean to. It's just … well, I've finally decided joined the Order, to help Harry. That's why I needed to see Dumbledore."

Lily felt a wave of hopeful energy wash over her. "Oh Gemma! Thank you. I know you've got so much to keep on top of, with your gift and all, but I am really so thankful you've decided to help us as well, I don't even know how to properly say it."

"The two are one in the same now," Gemma said with a slight grimace. Lily's energy dipped dangerously low as her teacup anxiously shook in her hand.

"You … made a prophecy about him then, didn't you?"

"I did, yes, when Rosier forced me to drink Morrigan's research chemical potion years ago. Unfortunately I didn't figure that out until just now. I wasn't able to write any of my visions down, as John did to figure his own out, so the full prophecy was lost. I've been working so hard to remember it, but I haven't gotten anywhere. I don't want to do it again, that potion is dangerous and hasn't been intensively studied. But before John moved back to America a few weeks ago - he said I'd finished my studies with him, it was time - he taught me that the potion leaves flashback memories attached to objects in your prophecy. And I finally got that jolt after Sirius showed me a picture of Harry at his christening. I think because he's got James' mop now."

Lily took a moment to sip her tea and process.

"So ... then, you have more insight on Trelawney's prophecy?" Her teacup shook again.

"I believe so. I know I saw your son that night, I'm sure of it after looking at him. And I came to realize that I have to partner with Dumbledore and the Order to figure out the rest of my prophecy, because there's so much I don't know. I need your help to find the next jolt and learn what happens to Harry." She then put her hand on Lily's shoulder. "I know I've been a bit distant from him - kids scare the fucking hell out of me - but he's a good boy with wonderful parents who don't deserve any of this. John gave me the tools to understand the future and now I want to use them. To save your family."

Lily felt her eyes water up again as the room fell silent. But instead of fully crying, she reached out and gave Gemma a fierce hug; Lily dug her fingers into her back and held on tight. Gemma smiled and eventually pulled away, putting the blanket back around Lily's shoulders.

"Thank you," Lily whispered. "All of you. I don't know what else to say."

"You don't have to say anything," said Alice. "We know."

Lily sighed and looked around at her friends, immensely thankful for their love and support, and steered the conversation back to catching up; she learned about Gemma's decision to move in Sirius' place, as well as Alice's favorite relaxing bubble bath solution, Dorcas' quick snog with Caradoc, Marianne's favorite recipes and Marlene's crush on Gio, which was eventually spoiled when Gemma commented on his sexual preferences. The women kept talking for another hour or so before Marianne got a message from Moody saying that it was time to bring Lily home. Lily took the blanket off her shoulders and made her way to the center of the room, knowing she had to return to her sheltered life. Part of her didn't want to go, but another side felt called back home to watch over Harry now that she was feeling stronger.

She profusely thanked her friends again before apparating back to her living room. Although she missed the little cottage in Dover already, her heart swelled with love as James walked out of the nursery with Molly, holding Harry in his arms. Lily rushed over to her child, pinched his cheeks and asked James if she could hold him; her husband transferred him over to her embrace. Lily rocked Harry back and forth and he gurgled and smiled at her. He was so tiny, so innocent. But she now knew he had a loving community around him that was committed to keeping him alive and well. He would be protected at all costs.

"Thank you," she said to Molly.

"Truly," James added. Lily looked over at her husband and noticed a roguish energy about him; it was clear he'd enjoyed the time away as well. She smiled and leaned into him, basking in the electricity that crackled between their bodies now that they were both mentally refreshed. Molly nodded and smiled before giving them hugs and apparating home. The house became quiet again, but this time, Lily didn't mind it.


About a year later, Marianne Minot chomped on her fingernails as she watched Harry fly around on his new toy broomstick; Sirius had given it to him for his first birthday. James followed his son up the stairs to the second floor to keep him from breaking another vase from Petunia and their family tabby cat hissed and ran across the room onto Lily's lap for protection.

"Poor Luna. Harry nearly killed her a couple days ago, flying around on that thing. She's scared of it. Aren't you, Luna darling?"

The cat lifted her head and yawned before headbutting Lily's torso to encourage her to pet her; Lily smiled and rubbed the sides of her face. Luna then stared at Marianne, trying to convince her to pet her as well, but Marianne did no such thing. She felt morose and depressed and stayed silent; she drew blood after ripping off a hangnail and berated herself for indulging in her long standing bad habit. Lily frowned, reading her instantly.

"Marianne, are you alright?"

She flinched slightly, tucking her fingers into her robes so her friend wouldn't see the mess she'd made. Marianne tried to tell her the truth; that she was hollow and lifeless and had been for months, but her brain couldn't find the energy to say anything out loud. She looked down at the floor instead and avoided Lily's gaze. She didn't want her notice that she was on the verge of tears.

"Marianne?"

"I'm fine. Really."

"I know when you're lying."

The Ravenclaw let out a deep sigh, her tears now falling down her face. Lily hugged Marianne and it took a moment for her to respond, but she eventually cried in her arms.

"I'm sorry, I'll stop. I should be the one holding you, not the other way around. You're stuck here and -"

"Shhhh, nonsense. What's wrong?"

"Well, I …"

Marianne didn't know how to proceed. Her sour feelings had truly started after the law office closed due to everyone's disappearances; it was a grind trying to keep her life afloat after that. The Order members decided that it wasn't safe for Marianne to ever be unattended, so she was assigned surveillance whenever Remus was away. She was still able to go about her life - what little she had left of it, in her opinion - but found it a little unnerving that someone was tracking her, even if they were friendly. And then one day, Remus came home from The Purple Inkpot and said Smithers had died of natural causes, leaving him unemployed as well. That changed everything and the feelings became harder to stomach. After the Potters agreed to fully financially support them, he dove straight into secret missions to understand if other werewolves were partnering with Voldemort and she did her best to support other active Order investigations while staying out of the fray.

Yet, she supposed the worst feelings came after Travers killed Marlene and her entire family two weeks ago. At first when they'd both joined, Marianne was immensely jealous whenever Marlene had a mission with Remus, but their Hogwarts history quickly melted away. They'd been close friends and often leaned on each other, being some of the few Ravenclaws in the Order.

"I just feel so lost," she finally managed to get out.

"You have the Order to help guide you. And Remus."

Marianne sighed; did she really have him? She knew he was doing important work, but it meant he was away often and guarded, trying not to bring the wolf home with him. A side of him she dearly missed. This, in addition to Marianne's cycles and discontented mood, meant they hadn't been intimate for months. Things weren't like they used to be. They were growing apart.

"You're not the only one who feels lost, you know." Marianne looked up, deeply embarrassed.

"I shouldn't have said anything, you must be so isolated here, I'm nothing compared -"

"Stop. Please. Take off that mask of yours and just … breathe with me for a moment. Close your eyes."

Lily grabbed her hands, her touch disconnecting Marianne from her earlier thoughts. Together they took a deep inhale, followed by a deep exhale. Marianne felt a weight lift from her shoulders as she inhaled again and opened her eyes. Lily smiled and gave her hand a squeeze.

"There, better. Keep doing that." Marianne's fingers trembled, but she smiled for the first time in awhile and kept taking deep breaths. "Now. What is your mission?"

"My what?"

"Your mission. The reason you exist."

"I … don't know what you mean."

"My mission is to love. It's something I did as a child, but I was scorned by Petunia and Severus, so I stopped. Yet when I finally fell in love with James, I remembered what the feeling was like, how happy it made me. So I vowed to never let love go again. It's powerful, it transforms people. The Unspeakables can't figure out why, but it certainly does. So I'm not going to stop doing it just because Voldemort is hell bent on taking it away from everyone. I love my husband and I love my son, despite the circumstances I'm in. It's my reason to live and how I survive."

Marianne wiped a few tears from her eyes; she had never been more proud of someone in her entire life. Here this woman was, targeted and trapped, but still holding her sanity. She was a hero.

"Now what is your mission?"

"I … honestly don't know. That's a rather deep question."

"I think you do."

"Why?"

"Because you left your family for a reason."

Marianne inhaled sharply, ruining her calm streak. She moved to bite her nails again, but stopped just before her finger touched her mouth. Instead, she decided to close her eyes and go back to her earlier breathing pattern; after a few minutes of wrestling with her mental demons, she felt her emotions float away, replaced by calm and stillness. It was then that the answer finally came to her.

"I believe my mission is ..." She sighed. "To be free, to have the liberty to make my own choices. My family kept me in a bubble and I didn't realize that I had the option to live on my own; it was Sirius who told me that. It was enlightening, to say the least. Really, I have the right to choose what I want to do. I choose to love Remus, despite his lycanthropy. He doesn't like it, but it's my decision."

Another smile graced her face; the darkness in her head slowly brightened.

"See? Not so hard, was it?"

"I … suppose not. But how did you figure out your mission, then? Did you just come to that realization yourself?"

"Merlin, no. I was just as hysterical and Dumbledore had the same conversation with me to keep me motivated. He's a wise one, that man."

"He is indeed."

Their laughs slowly faded.

"Do you feel better now?"

"I do. Really."

"Will you be going to the Prewett brothers' party, then?"

"You know about that?"

"I may be stuck in this house, but I do get letters!"

"I wasn't planning on it. Remus will be home later tonight and I haven't seen him in awhile."

"I think you should, he can wait a few hours. Go be free."

Marianne chuckled at her deliberate words and looked away, still smiling. "I don't think I'll ever be fully free, given the circumstances."

"Who's on shift now?"

"Sirius. I'll tell him to come with me, to go see everyone - Remus will be back for the next couple of days, so we'll still have time together. Will it be alright if I leave shortly?"

"Wonderful! Yes, don't worry about me, Bathilda will be coming by soon." Lily reached out and ran her hands over Luna's fur and the cat purred loudly; Marianne smiled at their strong companionship.

The two women then fell into a short, random conversation about knights and valcores before Marianne said her goodbyes and apparated home; Sirius wasn't in her living room, but she knew he was keeping an eye on her from afar. Marianne wandered into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of wine. Now that she knew her moral North Star, she was in the mood to celebrate and let her hair down. Even though Voldemort was gaining ground, she realized she had the choice to let him affect her in this moment.

And she chose to let him go.

Marianne moved to get ready and opened her closet; after leaving her family, she'd adopted more colors into her wardrobe, but none of them called to her. Marianne eventually saw a flash of red and pushed things aside to find an old crimson pants suit. She took it off the hanger and laid it on the bed, smiling at the color.

It reminded her of Remus and as she ran her fingers across the soft fabric, caused her to make another choice. It was time to reignite things. She knew Remus would find the color stunning, but the outfit needed something else; Marianne took out her wand to turn the long trousers into short hot pants. She put on her night's attire and smirked at her reflection in the mirror. She felt confident for the first time in a long time.

Marianne donned a pair of black platform shoes before writing a quick note to Remus letting him know when she would be home. She finished her glass of wine and cast a patronus to inform Sirius that he should end his shift early and join her. Once she received a confirmation, Marianne apparated to the Prewett's oddball living room; her enthusiasm grew after she saw that most of her friends were already present, sipping drinks and talking over one of Tarantellegra's old albums. But the party didn't match Marianne's liveliness. The Order members there knew they were outnumbered and losing more people by the day. The gathering was an attempt to cheer everyone up, but it wasn't really working.

"Oh, darling. You are a vision." Marianne turned to see Gemma standing next to her and smirked.

"I decided to feel sexy."

"Sexy," Gemma said wistfully. "That's something I haven't felt in awhile." She looked down at her baggy black dress and then to Sirius, who was now chatting with Peter on the other side of the room.

"Well, let's change that." Marianne jutted her wand and created cut outs in Gemma's dress, exposing her pear shaped figure. She then ran her fingers across the bare skin of Gemma's curves; her gesture wasn't meant to actually insinuate anything physical between them, only to transfer her confidence. Gemma's eyes happily rolled into the back of her head.

"That was good, do it again." Marianne laughed and brushed her skin once more; Gemma shivered before pulling herself back together. "Right, ok. I need more of that. One second." She reached into her magically extended purse and after a few tries, pulled out a record. "I used a few charms to make this into a large portable list of Muggle songs. It should help. And get everyone else laid in the process."

Gemma walked away before Marianne could respond; the room fell silent after she put on her special record, but once a fluid guitar melody started playing over horns and a steady bass beat, the energy changed. People's ears perked up. Gemma went back to Marianne and dragged her to the makeshift dance floor, swaying her hips back and forth as everyone watched with interest.

They were the only ones dancing at first, but after KC and the Sunshine Band repeated their famous chorus - do a little dance, make a little love, get down tonight - the rest of the party started to catch onto their mood. A few guests joined Marianne and Gemma on the floor and both women kept dancing, throwing their heads back with joyous laughter. The Prewett Brothers eventually jumped in and the party grew more rambunctious as everyone started to boogie.

Kool & the Gang bled into Donna Summer, Grace Jones and Rick James; Marianne didn't know most of the songs playing, but still connected with their underlying groove. She let herself go and boldly danced with Gemma until Sirius couldn't hold back any longer, pulling his girlfriend away and snogging her senseless. Marianne then paired with Dorcas for awhile before Caradoc came over and stole her too. As the record slipped into the next song, she playfully put her hands on her hips and noticed that in fact, most of the party had coupled off. She then decided it was time to go home and find Remus, but snuck one last glance at Gemma. She was pressed up against Sirius, a seductive smile on her lips as he ran his fingers over her skin, just as Marianne had done earlier.

Marianne apparated home quietly without saying goodbye, not wanting to disrupt the party's energy. When she appeared in her living room, she found Remus sitting by the fire reading the newest edition of the Prophet. He didn't look up at first, but after reading a few more sentences, eventually raised his eyes to meet hers and his expression was a mixture of shock and intense desire. The paper immediately fell into his lap and he gripped the armchair tightly, holding himself back from doing anything drastic.

"Do you like what you see?"

"Yes. Absolutely."

"Then have me."

Remus gulped. "That might not be a good idea. It's going to … be hard to control myself this close to the Moon. I don't want to hurt you."

"You have my consent. You can be rough with me."

He inhaled sharply. "You … you want to see the wolf?"

"Yes. Unfiltered."

"You'll tell me if it's too much?"

"Yes. Now get on with it."

And with that, Remus immediately jumped up from his chair and started kissing her with force and Marianne didn't shy away, sneaking in aggressive love bites when she had the chance. Since he'd been around more of his kind lately, he shifted into a higher gear. Pleasure and pain melted together as they ripped away clothes and left scratch marks on each other's skin; the wolf howled and she couldn't stop begging for more. Marianne climaxed twice before they were through, something she'd never done before. As they collapsed on top of each other and tried to catch their breath, she realized it was because she'd never felt this happy and alive.

"I love you," he muttered into her ear. "Tremendously so."

"I love you, too."

They didn't get out of bed for the rest of the night or the next morning; they repeated the same cycle of cuddling, massaging, kissing and shagging. Marianne couldn't stop smiling. Despite dating for years, it was rare that he let her see his true natural tendencies. She had to admit, her first encounter with his unfiltered side was a little scary, but the experience made her fall deeper in love with him. And since then, she craved the raw emotions and sensations that came along with giving him permission to have his way with her when he was so liberated himself.

Remus eventually made them go down the street to grab a few groceries, since there wasn't any food in the house. Yet, the brief pause didn't last long. After eating a quick bite, they fell back into bed and resumed their earlier cycle until the next morning; Marianne hated breaking the moment, but they had an Order meeting to attend. After getting dressed, they ate a small breakfast and floo-ed to the Scotland safe house. Gemma playfully raised her eyebrow when she saw them - lips swollen, skin bruised - and Marianne blushed profusely.

The meeting started like any other, but the news of Benjy's horrific death ripped Marianne out of her daydream. She felt Remus stiffen as the attendees fell silent, taking a few moments to remember the fallen.

"Now, on to reports," Mad Eye prompted. "Longbottoms?"

"We haven't seen any movement from Malfoy. He's still hiding out at his Manor."

"Good. Let the ponce squirm after the trouble he caused. Lupin?"

"The main pack is not engaging with Yaxley. But the smaller one has."

"Keep us informed if they do. Vance?"

"The Carrows have been circling The Blue Note as of late." Gemma gasped. "But I scared them off and added extra protection spells to the building." The Seer ran into Emmeline's arms, thanking her profusely.

"Pettigrew?"

"Crouch is going to convict Travers for the maximum sentence. Life."

"That'll do nicely, although still would have preferred to kill him myself. Meadows?"

"There's going to be a meeting tomorrow, Rodolphus and Rabastan are coming home from their trip to France."

This gave him pause. "What did you overhear?"

"To be honest, they were speaking so fast … I couldn't understand every word. But he's bringing friends back with him." Moody huffed and ran a frustrated hand through his hair.

"We need you to spy on the gathering, but you shouldn't go alone. Who's free?"

None of the attendees answered; a painful silence fell over them as Marianne felt her North Star propel her to do something. But this time, her choice would push her happiness to its high water mark, slowly rolling back into despair.

"I am."

"Minot, you're to stay hidden."

"Name someone else who can go. Who also speaks French."

"What are you doing?" Remus hissed.

"I'm doing what's right."

"No, you're being reckless and endangering yourself. This is Lestrange we're talking about. Your former suitor. If he finds you, he'll ki-"

"Please," Dumbledore finally cut in, raising his hands to quiet the room. "Miss Minot, are you truly aware of what you're asking to do?"

"Yes. Headmaster we're stretched too thin and I'm doing nothing - in fact, I'm taking up too many resources to stay hidden. It's time for the Order to use me, everyone else is burnt out."

"She has a point," grumbled Moody.

"Very well then, Miss Meadows you will now have a partner." Remus scoffed incredulously, but didn't say anything further. "Now one more topic before we adjourn."

Dorcas ignored Dumbledore and came over to give Marianne specifics about their task the next day. She caught the details and picked up on her partner's vehement disagreement; when Marianne reached for Remus' hand, he pushed it away. When the meeting finally ended, he grabbed her shoulder and apparated them both home.

"I can't believe you."

"Remus, please -"

"I used to think you were clever, now I'm not so sure." Marianne inhaled sharply; the last time he'd insulted her intelligence like this was in the Room of Requirement on the last night of term.

"This isn't your decision to make."

"So I'm aware," he growled. "I'm going to Padfoot's. Have fun on your mission."

Marianne let out a sob of heartbreak after he left, but held back her tears. She did her best to keep her resolve as she prepared, but barely slept; Remus never came home and as much as she hated to admit it, she was nervous to go back into the thick of it after so long in the shadows. When she arrived at Dorcas' flat the following night, they exchanged a few words before casting Disillusionment and Shield Charms and snapping to a forest adjacent to Lestrange Manor; the house was protected by anti-apparition wards, so they had to creep through the trees until they were outside the stone building where the meeting was taking place. It was terrifying being this close to her old life, but she pushed on. Dorcas cast a nonverbal spell and put Marianne's hand to the wall; like a stethoscope, it allowed her to listen to what was going on inside.

The men inside spoke rapid fire French, discussing the tantalizing body of someone named Althea, but suddenly, the atmosphere grew dark and grim. Dorcas grabbed her hand in fear; something wasn't right. A sharp pop! told them someone else had joined the meeting and the hostile vibrations increased tenfold.

"Rodolphus, Rabastan. And others who wish to join the Cause," Marianne heard Lord Voldemort hiss. "It is time."

Both women froze, completely surprised at the turn of events; they had happened upon an initiation of new French Death Eaters eager to join the movement, not a simple reconnaissance meeting. They needed to get out of there. But just before Voldemort started the ceremony, he sniffed the palpable tension radiating in the air. His magic was stronger than theirs; he could sense their presence.

"Intruders. Outside."

Their protective charms immediately withered away. Adrenaline burst through Marianne's veins as she bolted to get outside the wards and apparate back to safety; Dorcas followed, but she quickly lost sight of her. A few pops! signaled the Death Eaters' arrival and misdirected curses swiftly bounced off the trees around her. Marianne started to zig zag to avoid getting hit and threw a few spells of her own back at them, but despite veering away from the pack, she suddenly felt her feet come out from under her. A cursed net quickly appeared around her body and she struggled to get it off her before anyone found her.

But she was not so lucky. A few moments later, a disguised Death Eater emerged from the shadows. They paused for a moment before removing their hood; the color drained from her face.

"Marianne Minot," Rodolphus preened, extremely pleased with himself. "I thought you were Black. It's been awhile, hasn't it?." With a quick swish of his wand, he sent up a magical flare and his brother appeared. "Rabastan, I have a gift for you."

Rabastan guffawed and circled; her blood ran cold.

"Thank you dear brother, what a surprise! Oh, how I've been waiting for this moment." Marianne flinched as he touched the side of her face. "I wanted to kill you after Hogwarts, to make you pay for your refusal. But your father intervened. Said you needed to suffer before leaving this world and I eventually came to agree. He, for instance, gave the Potters Dragon Pox after finding out you were living with them. And I had a lot of fun torturing your coworkers and making them disappear."

"Y-you did that," Marianne stuttered in disbelief.

"Yes," he grinned maniacally. "But then you went into hiding and we lost track of you. Yet, here you are, snagged in my brother's trap. I think I'll follow the Dark Lord's example with the blonde and finally end it. Your suffering has gone on long enough."

"No," she breathed. "Not Dorcas ..."

Voldemort slowly emerged from the shadows with the others in tow.

"Do it, Lestrange," he commanded. "We have more important matters to attend to."

Marianne became silent as she watched Rabastan raise his wand, finally realizing that this was it; memories of Remus flooded her brain. But there would be no more running, no more chances. She'd made her choices and now it was time to experience the outcomes that came along with them. But before she left, she wasn't going to give Rabastan the satisfaction.

"I never suffered," she said breathlessly, looking him straight in the eyes as she braced for impact. "I lived."

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"


The man with blue hair was running away from Parco Ventaglieri, dodging parked cars in front of him and oncoming spells from behind. He cast a quick explosion as a distraction and made a sharp left to lose his attacker, who had been pursuing him for several blocks. He popped out onto a bigger street. There were a few drunk Muggles walking about and wondering where the noise came from, so he transfigured himself into different clothes to try and blend in as he left the scene of the crime. He walked towards the Desiderio Napoletano hotel, hoping that his associate would be there with his money and portkey.

"Brutto bastardo, pensi di essere un gangster?"

A spell flew past him; he recoiled, scared out of his mind. He darted into the shadows and ran towards his destination, but ultimately was too slow. The hooded figure following him lifted its wand, casting a bright green spell …

Gemma Rawnsley gasped and bolted upright in bed, eyes wide with fear; she then relaxed and fell back onto her pillows, disoriented and shaken. The man in the dream, it couldn't be Gio. Sure, he was still a black market dealer, but smarter than his time at school. He kept it in the shadows so as not to threaten the band's success. But after a few anxious breaths, Gemma realized what had just happened. She'd experienced a big dream predicting her best friend's death and the numbness from Marianne's passing just only a week ago slowly melted away, causing intense panic to rise from the depths of her soul.

The Seer rubbed her eyes, trying to shake away her thoughts. Her heart continued to race. She noticed that Sirius and Pippa had already gotten out of bed, but couldn't let go of the dream. Gemma knew the scene would come to pass, it was just a matter of when. But she didn't want to believe that Gio would be gone. They'd grown apart ever since she'd joined the Order and he started going on tour more, but she still cared for him immensely. Gemma rolled over to her side and grabbed the small hand mirror on her nightstand. Its cousin was on Sirius' nightstand; after seeing his two way mirror with James, Gemma asked him to create another one for her and Gio. She had to see him, possibly for the last time.

"Hello?"

"Bella! One moment ..."

Gio's face finally materialized in the mirror. His eyes were bloodshot, his eyelids heavy; he looked like he hadn't slept in awhile. Gemma held onto something to keep herself steady as she watched him get up from his bed. The mirror's point of view was jerky and nauseating, but she still caught him throwing covers over another man's chest before wandering to another room. He sat down in a chair with a soft thud!, propped the mirror against something and reached into his pocket to pull out a smoke. He then cast a few privacy spells and lit his cigarette.

"Now then. What on earth do you want?"

"Nothing, I just …" She turned a blind eye to the bruises on his forearms. "Where are you?"

"A living room, apparently."

"Sorry?"

"I'm with an acquaintance." His euphemism for a one night stand. "I don't know the flat. Doesn't matter."

"Did you sleep at all last night?"

"Who are you, my Mamma?"

"I just wanted to check in," said Gemma, lowering her head. "How are your travels?"

"Life on the road, always moving. We're touring in France this week."

He yawned, stretched and then took another puff; an awkward silence hung in the air. Gemma's fingers, out of view, clenched the bedspread in fear. She desperately wanted to ask if he had any inkling of dying his hair blue, but knew better.

"So, what happened? You've got that look on your face. Did you have a bad dream?"

Her eyes widened, terrified. He snorted. Gemma inhaled sharply and turned away from the mirror in shame.

"They're always bad these days."

If they'd have been back at Hogwarts and trying to avoid getting caught smoking gillyweed, Gio would have said something different and prodded a bit more. After all, it was unusual for her to call on him out of the blue like this. But those times were over. Instead, he took another drag and looked away himself.

"Yeah," he grunted, "stormy weather we're having."

The awkward silence returned, but his stomach gurgled, breaking the tension.

"Well, seems I'm in need of sustenance. Good catching up, let's talk in a few days, yeah?" That was his normal sign off these days. But of course he never followed up with her later, always too entrenched in the energy of the tour.

"Yeah," she said breathlessly. "Of course. Talk soon."

Gio waved before she could say anything more, his face quickly disappearing. Her hand drifted to her bedside table, putting the mirror back in its place, and she fell back against her pillows and curled into a ball, shocked and twitchy. In the process of putting on her boyfriend's pants and shirt, Gemma noticed a few stray tears rolling down her cheeks. She absentmindedly wiped them from her face before facing Sirius in the kitchen.

She expected him to be reading the Sunday Prophet, but was surprised to see his normal mug of coffee replaced by a tumbler firewhiskey; she didn't remember what day it was. He gave her a nod of acknowledgement and then took a gulp before going back to the paper and stroking Pippa as she sat in his lap. Gemma, in turn, put the kettle on and threw two pieces of bread into the toaster, dazing out the window looking at the pouring rain. She wasn't hungry in the slightest, but felt it was the right thing to do. She jumped slightly when the bread popped up, but settled back into her melancholy as she took her seat. Sirius tipped his head back and took a long sip from his tumbler.

"I don't trust him," he finally said.

"Sorry?"

"Remus. I don't trust him."

She almost choked; her earlier uncertainty vibrated throughout her body.

"You must be joking."

"I'm not."

"But w-why?"

"He's hiding something."

"But how do you know? He's been off on missions."

"Exactly." Gemma sighed loudly as the kettle whistled.

"What does that even mean?" she said while fixing herself a cup, which she had no intention of actually drinking. She was still just going through the motions.

"He's using his mission as cover for time away."

"He hasn't done anything wrong, he's not on the other side. He's - he's grieving! You must see that."

Sirius sucked in a breath through his teeth and balled his fists. "This isn't grief. If it was, he would have said something."

"You really think he would?" Gemma asked incredulously. "This is Remus we're talking about, the brooder. He's throwing himself into work to try and cope. Just like he did in school."

"You think I don't know my own mate?" shouted Sirius. "You act like you've been friends with him longer, but he's a Marauder, we have a code. And he knows it and he's avoiding us. That's why I don't trust him. And that's why I'm giving Secret Keeper rights to Wormtail."

It all came rushing back to her; the conversation Dumbledore had with the Potters, telling them that the only way to stay truly safe was to go into hiding under the Fidelius Charm. The charm casting ceremony was today and Sirius was supposed to be the Secret Keeper, although apparently that had changed.

"What?" Gemma whispered, a nervous flush sweeping across her skin. It was one thing for Sirius to say he didn't trust his best mate, but entirely another to switch the plan.

"I already talked to James about it."

"What about Dumbledore?"

"We're not telling him. I'm supposed to be the decoy."

Her flush intensified and Gemma thought of many ways to express her distress. Why on earth did he think that was a good idea, what was he thinking keeping a secret from Dumbledore? But her brain short circuited. She tried to move her lips to convey how she felt, but they didn't move; she couldn't bare the idea of losing Sirius over this.

Because then she would be alone again. No Gio, no Remus, no Sirius. Alone.

The thought made her excruciatingly nauseous and awakened the old sleeping dragon she'd battled for years. The teacup fell from her hands and smashed on the floor, scaring Pippa. She felt dizzy; she still couldn't speak. Sirius, extremely uncomfortable, frowned a little as he stood and straightened his cloak. He tipped his head back and finished the rest of his whiskey.

"I'll be back later," he muttered before briskly walking to the fireplace and yelling for the Potter's house in Godric's Hollow. Once he melted into the green flames, Gemma started to hyperventilate and experience a full blown panic attack, unable to hold herself together any longer.

Throughout her time at Hogwarts, dreams caused disruption. Sometimes they were abstract like her first dreams about Sirius, other times they were clear, just not in chronological order like her visions about Remus. But each time, they pulled Gemma's sanity apart and made her question herself and her surroundings. Gio was a helpful guide at first, but when the subject matter turned too advanced sensitive, she went at it alone. And slipped into madness.

But it was Mr. John Clark, the goofy surfer Divination Professor from San Francisco, who was finally the one to give her the guidance and clarity to build herself back up. He showed her new potion recipes and how to identify thought patterns, make changes to her mental models and observe the results in her dreams; he encouraged her to see things from a different perspective and accept herself for who she truly is. Her big dreams started to appear less and less and when they did disturb her sleep, became focused and material. She figured them out rather quickly and softened their disruption. She was at peace, especially after taking a leap of faith and reconnecting with Sirius. The War was frightening, but still filled with love. She was finally happy.

Yet when John told her his work was done and it was time for her to take control of her abilities without his help, things changed dramatically. He kicked her out of the nest and since then, she hadn't figured out how to fly on her own.

Early on, Gemma decided it was time to take a side and use her gift to help fight against Voldemort, but her sharpness started to fade. As more people started to die, her anger and frustration turned inward and vicious without her mentor's support. She berated herself for not being clever enough to decode her entire vision; she'd felt a connection to Harry, but nothing came after that, despite being entrenched with Order information. It was like chasing ghosts. Her big dreams eventually found their way back into her life and her sanity slowly started to unravel again. Even the smallest dreams threw her; she kept seeing a cloaked figure shift around in the background, although it was too out of focus to recognize. Her old loneliness tightened its grip around her lungs and crushed her spirit.

Gemma gasped and shook her trembling hands, trying to get rid of the tingling feeling in her limbs. Her heart continued to race as she got up and made her way to the living room; she didn't have a particular reason for leaving her seat, yet the act of moving around seemed to help her get rid of excess energy. But the Seer still felt her stomach in knots and determined that she needed something stronger, something more certain to focus her. She needed to know the future and what her dream meant; exactly how everything would end. That would finally calm her down and ease her fears of being emotionally out of control. It always did.

But she'd tried so many things to figure out her Hogwarts vision, but nothing worked. Tea leaves weren't strong enough, crystal gazing was too fuzzy; tarot cards were vague, fire omens too elusive. She and John did their best to use his techniques to chip away at the barriers, but ever since he'd left and the future became more chaotic, she wasn't strong enough to use the same discipline. Yet, as Gemma sat down on the couch due to her lightheadedness, her temperament brought forth an idea. A very dangerous idea.

Morrigan's #1 potion. The only thing she hadn't tried.

Sweat trickled down her face, mixing with her intermittent tears. In the past, she would have put up a fight and convinced herself it was a horrible idea, but her normal defenses were down. She immediately shot into her bedroom, unknowingly passing her earlier tea leaves that were now on the ground in the shape of the Grim, and rummaged around under the bed until she found an old copy of The Reverie Review she'd nicked from Hogwarts long ago. Gemma rifled through the papers, still feeling flushed and out of breath, until she came across the potion's recipe.

The ingredients list jumped out at her on the page, its magic calling to her, but Gemma knew the true power came from how a Seer brewed it. After Morrigan had published his research findings in The Review, others tried to copy his instructions and force their own visions. Many of them brewed it incorrectly and experienced mental breakdowns they never recovered from. John was the only protege to master making the potion and had a relatively smooth experience. He never felt out of control and explained that it was like climbing up a tree to peak above the fog and see everything's interconnectedness clearly. But he also warned that one was not meant to eternally live above the fray; you had to eventually step down and reenter the real world, which most people could never do correctly. Gemma herself even had trouble doing so, thrashing around the Hospital Wing and St. Mungo's before becoming unresponsive. It was why John always spoke against her experiencing the potion until she was much farther along in her mastery of Divination. Luciana had meddled quite a bit with her batch and caused Gemma lasting harm.

But Gemma threw all these warning signs out the window. She went against her mentor's advice and developed tunnel vision for gathering the needed materials and devising a plan for how she could have the visions without Sirius interrupting. The focus caused her physical panic symptoms to calm down by the time he came back from the Potters, but her mind was still racing. They barely spoke and went about the next week without unsettling each other. Gemma was too fixated on brewing an extremely potent batch of Morrigan's #1 in secret to see that Sirius was severely drinking his sorrows away; he barely said goodbye before leaving on his next mission. But she knew he wouldn't come back until the following day, the perfect moment for her to drink the research potion in peace and record what she saw.

When the time came - October 30th, 1981 - Gemma sat down on their living room couch with a quill and piece of parchment for notetaking, staring at the small strand of black hair on the table in front of her. Harry's hair, to be specific, something she'd picked up from the Potters house. There was no guarantee that she would see the same visions as last time, but she knew the elixir forced the participant to gravitate towards the strongest stimulant in the vicinity; she could try and force a repeat journey by making sure Harry's spirit was directly intertwined with it.

"I hope this bloody works," muttered Gemma. After taking a deep breath, the Seer dropped his hair into the liquid, leaned her head back and gulped down the nasty metallic tasting potion, not knowing that she'd concocted Morrigan's #1 to its strongest possible form by dropping Harry's DNA in.

Her journey was nothing like her last experience with the potion; she mentally blasted off, leaving her quill, parchment and body behind as she felt back onto the couch. Instead of slowly climbing a tree as John described, she skyrocketed above the fog and the room around her was no longer recognizable. She felt like she was in another dimension entirely, even though her body hadn't gone anywhere. It continued to stay put as her mind wandered through the inside of a kaleidoscope.

And that was when the visions started; the fog slowly cleared and revealed seven different scenes that flowed much like a speedy trip through a pensive, outlined with intricate rainbow fractals. She saw a young boy in Slytherin robes holding a diary and speaking to a large snake, who eventually lashed out and killed another student. The same boy cast killing curses at those who looked like him and slid a ring on his finger. He quickly grew into a man, killed a plump woman and took a cup and locket from her. He then gave the cup to none other than Bellatrix; Gemma recognized her instantly. Alarm bells went off in her brain, but she didn't have time to react as the man killed a homeless person and put the locket in a far away dark cave. The man, she finally came to realize as he threw back his hood to speak to a grey ghost, was Voldemort. While Gemma had never seen in him person, she knew it in her soul. He then travelled to a forest and discovered a diadem, killing a peasant shortly afterwards.

Yet, the next cloaked figure rendered her extremely anxious; it was the ever present figure from her small dreams. It suddenly cast off its hood to reveal Peter's face and he extended his hand to Voldemort. Gemma felt another panic attack coming on as the scene morphed into Godric's Hollow. Voldemort burst into the house. But there was nothing Gemma could do. She sobbed as he yelled the Killing Curse and screamed again when it rebounded off Lily and hit him in the chest. Harry's piercing cry filled the air before the dimension melted into another scene. Gemma whimpered, not wanting to see more. But the prophecy moved on, showing Voldemort killing an older woman with a large, vicious snake.

After the seven scenes, the reverberations started to settle. But Gemma was desperate to know more and fought to stay in the dimension. Why was Voldemort killing all these people? And was that it? Did Lily and James die for nothing? What happened to Harry?

The desire for answers didn't let up as she felt her mind slowly start to fall back into her body; Gemma mentally kicked and screamed as feeling returned to her fingers. Her trip to a higher plane would have ended there, leaving her with the treacherous struggle of coming to terms with reality, but her conviction clashed with the potion's natural ebb and flow, allowing her to stay connected to her visions while regaining physical awareness. Gemma jumped up from the couch – her quill and parchment falling to the floor – and started to try and climb the walls around her to get back to her earlier higher state and learn more details.

When no new information surfaced, the Seer turned desperate. She didn't want to accept that her friends were going to die by Voldemort's hand and convinced herself to find the only person who would know how to stop it. Gemma then hobbled over to their fireplace, grabbed floo powder, shouted for the Hogwarts Headmaster's office and screamed as she was sucked into the flames and flew through a terrifyingly dark network of fireplaces.

Her mind would never be the same. She tripped on Dumbledore's rug on her way out; the Headmaster bristled in surprise, but quickly softened when she fell to the floor. Gemma's brain went into sensory overload and short circuited to mush, as the floo trip and fall had suddenly and dangerously forced her down from the potion's tree before she was ready. She barely felt Dumbledore's embrace and healing spells, only able to pay attention to one last round of the visions from before. She whimpered after seeing the Potter's death again and mustered everything she could to try and communicate what she was seeing. She had no idea what her visions meant, but she knew Dumbledore was smart and informed enough to figure it all out.

"V-Voldemort ... diary, more," Gemma whispered, grabbing Dumbledore's arm. He stopped what he was doing and turned his gaze; she tried to go on naming the rest of the objects, but didn't have the strength to continue. She gasped, tightening her grip. Dumbledore nodded and squeezed back, acknowledging her words and Gemma sighed with relief before falling back into numbness. She would never speak again – forever losing the prophecy and its pearls of wisdom that would help kill the Dark Lord once and for all - but it was something Dumbledore never forgot.

Especially after he came across Tom Riddle's diary many years later.


"You were great, darling."

Peter Pettigrew took a long drag from his cigarette and glared at Luciana.

"Well, not just now," she drawled, referring to their unsuccessful earlier attempt to shag, "but with the Dark Lord. You're definitely his new favorite now. Oh All Hallow Eve, what treats you've given us!"

Luciana smirked and snuggled in closer, reveling in the fact that her lover - the man she'd groomed for years - was now a Death Eater in the inner circle. But Peter was too nervous to relax. He pushed her away, got out of bed with a cigarette still between his lips and threw on black robes, heading towards the nearby small kitchen for a drink. His London flat was dingy, but he had to keep up appearances; he was still on a meager Ministry salary despite receiving Death Eater kickbacks.

Events blended together in his head. A day or so ago – he guessed, he wasn't quite sure – Gemma took Morrigan's potion and found a permanent bed in St. Mungo's. She was completely mute with no sign of cognition, a vegetable, so the rumors within the Order had run rampant. Some thought the Seer was attacked, but after inspecting her flat, they realized that she'd done it on her own. Everyone was a bit lost after that. Sirius, in grief, told Peter that Gemma said something to Dumbledore about Voldemort, but he didn't know the details. It finally pushed Peter over the edge and he told the Dark Lord about the Potters' location to save his skin.

He couldn't sit still since, even when Luciana tried to tempt him. His heart raced as he pulled a glass from the cupboard and gave himself a generous pour of firewhiskey. It was gone in one large gulp and Peter slammed the glass against the counter, but the burn wasn't strong enough to stamp out his nerves; his right hand still shook as he put his cigarette to his lips.

"You should be happy," Luciana remarked behind him.

"I am," he answered.

"You don't seem so."

"I am."

"I don't believe you," she purred. Peter caught the commanding, sinister undertone in her voice; the energy that drew him closer to her in the first place, the tinderbox that started a wildfire of events that left death and destruction in its wake.

She was right. He should have been happy, brimming with excitement. After all, he'd catapulted to the highest rank, gaining protection from the strongest wizard that had ever lived. But even though his soul had withered away from his Hogwarts days, Peter still felt a pang of regret.

In the beginning, being a double agent was a thrill. He slunk away into the shadows only when the time was right, indulging his darkness by meeting his dominatrix for a smoke break and a tumble in the sheets. They both received their Dark Mark tattoos; the rules had relaxed some, as Voldemort wanted more soldiers on his side. Peter started cultishly caressing his forearm each night to connect to the dark energy inside him before returning to the Order in the morning.

His desire for power grew with time as he watched Luciana flourish; most of the other Death Eaters found Peter to be a low level foot soldier and not of much use, so they never bothered with him. As more and more people started dying, he stopped being sad for everyone's losses and imagined himself doing the killing. How good that would feel. Of course, he couldn't be seen openly collaborating with Voldemort's forces, so Peter used Luciana's influence to make things happen. And that was enough to keep him satisfied for the time being, especially when an upcoming raid gave him the opportunity to spook his ex girlfriend and give her a little payback. It had been boring to snoop around and collect information, but his legwork eventually gave the Death Eaters insight into the perfect time to strike and ruin Aeryn's office. He left her alone after that, not bothering to follow up with her life after she moved to America. He had bigger things to care about.

Eventually though, it wasn't enough. He soon turned to secretly sabotaging the Order from the inside; accidental friendly fire and false intelligence, all behind a dopey expression that no one cared to challenge. But even that had its limits. His deep seeded hatred, stemming from being passed over by his Hogwarts friends and fellow Death Eaters, wanted to come to the surface and show the world how powerful he could be, how important he was in winning his war. Soon, the opportunity presented itself when the Dark Lord violently threatened the Potters and forced them into deeper hiding. Sirius thought Remus was the spy everyone was paranoid about and positioned Peter to become the Secret Keeper. It was unexpected, but all too easy.

Yet, after Dumbledore said the spell and bonded Peter to the Potters' location, the responsibility began to sink in. He would be sentencing his childhood friends to death by giving up their whereabouts. He couldn't bring himself to do it at first, but felt his hand was forced after Gemma potentially gave the Order an upper hand. If the Dark Lord found out he'd been keeping vital information from him for over a week, he'd be furious. So Peter felt he had to fulfil his duty as a Death Eater and end the War for the right side.

It would all be over soon.

"It doesn't matter what you believe," Peter dodged, turning his back to Luciana. "What's done is done."

"Darling," she answered, rolling her eyes. "Will you just stop being so cheesed off and come back to bed? Please …" She hid a naughty smile as she bit her lip. "I want to celebrate."

The Slytherin ran her fingers over his shoulders and nestled into his neck, her hot breath tickling his skin; Peter closed his eyes and reflexively shivered in delight. Luciana always had a way of seducing him in the end, she had been doing so since Hogwarts. She offered him a sweet release no one else could; the ecstasy of being lost in torment and pleasure. He eventually set down his regret and gave in to his dark addiction, letting her take control and set the tempo. Peter lost himself in anguish as the alcohol added to the sensations. He let her see his dark side that always passed beneath the surface.

He suddenly felt a pain that was not pleasant in the slightest. His forearm burned with such force that he yelped and pulled away. Luciana screamed and clutched her own forearm and they both fell to the floor, dizzy from trying to tolerate the devilish omen. Peter gasped for breath and both their eyes widened with fear after they caught each other's expression and put two and two together.

The pain was coming from their Dark Marks.

Luciana swore loudly before letting out a piercing sigh of relief when the pain was finally over. Peter, however, didn't feel any more relaxed. In fact, his heartbeat started to race even further as his thoughts became jumbled and frantic. He'd never felt pain like that before, something must have happened to their master. But what? What did the pain mean? Was it possible - could it have all gone wrong? He had to stop himself from nervously emptying his stomach on the floor and decided he couldn't wait any longer for an answer. He had to know if his betrayal had been in vain. The Marauder didn't say a word to his temptress before apparating to the Potter's house to learn what had transpired.

The downstairs living room was eerily dark, except for a large amount of light coming down the staircase to the second floor; Peter heard a baby's cry from above. He raced forwards, wand at the ready despite his shaking hand, and soon came across James' crumpled body. He sucked in a troubled breath and froze. There was his former best mate, the boy he'd looked up to for so many years, dead on the floor in front of him. And it was his fault. He pushed the scene from his mind to carry on and looked up the stairs to see where the light had come from; part of the house had blown clear off.

"Bloody hell," he muttered under his breath. Things didn't look good.

Peter gingerly walked up the stairs towards the open night air; the second floor was mostly ruined. After casting a quick Lumos!, the Death Eater finally saw Harry wailing in a crib amongst the rubble. He used his wand to remove the debris that separated them and the tableau that appeared finally put him over the edge; Peter refused to believe it, but there was the Dark Lord's mangled corpse, as well as Lily's lifeless form closer to Harry.

It was then that the Marauder finally lost it and vomited, sputtering and coughing before falling to his knees. When he caught his breath, he let out a fearful whimper as he looked at his master again. Peter had chosen to follow Voldemort because it felt right and he saw nothing could be gained from fighting against him. But now it was all over. The Dark Lord was dead and Peter was left to survive on his own and run from his betrayal.

He'd picked the wrong side.

Suddenly, Peter heard motorbike noises and familiar voices shouting protective spells from the floor below; he jumped to his feet and jolted into survival mode as his heart raced faster than ever before. He needed to get out of there before he was discovered, before Sirius had a chance to get his hands on him. Peter said a quick cleaning charm to get rid of his sick before grabbing the Dark Lord's wand (for safekeeping, there was maybe some magic to be gained despite its master's absence) and apparating home to his bedroom.

"What - what happened?" Luciana sputtered, running in from the other room after hearing his pop. She was uncharacteristically flustered.

Peter froze, not knowing what to tell her. But he soon learned he didn't have to say anything; Luciana saw Voldemort's wand in his hands and the blood drained from her face.

"Why do you have that?" Her commanding, sinister undertone was back now that she had some information and knew she could coerce more out of him. "What happened to the Dark Lord?"

Peter still couldn't find the words to answer her. For one small moment, he considered telling her the truth and asking her to run away with him so they could protect themselves together, but as he watched her grit her teeth and growl in annoyance, he knew that she would turn on him at the first chance she got. Without Voldemort's promise of a new world order, she had no use for him. She would look out for herself and no one else, along with many of the other disgraced Death Eaters. And so, before she could ask any further questions, he slammed the bedroom door closed and shut her out with a few charms he'd learned from his days as a Marauder at Hogwarts. He didn't need her distractions now, he had to fend for himself without her.

As Luciana screamed and tried to get past his blockade, the traitor immediately started waving his wand; clothes and other supplies from his dresser drawers flew into a getaway bag. He hadn't prepared for this type of scenario - blindly following his master and believing that his dark power would protect him - and berated himself for being so stupid. Peter hyperventilated while casting a few more spells to summon dark amulets and vanishing potions that Snape had made for Death Eaters who found themselves in compromising positions. He knew the Auror department was using Unforgiveables these days and needed all the protection he could get.

"PETTIGREW!"

Luciana finally burst through the door after casting one of Snape's new creations and reached out to grab Peter, spooking him; he saw her hand out of the corner of his eye and without thinking, the Killing Curse flew out of his lips. It hit Luciana square in the chest and she fell to the floor with a look of surprise forever etched on her face. Peter yelped and looked down at his murderous hands, not entirely believing that he had killed her. He hadn't meant to, it just -

For one small moment, Peter heard all the surrounding noises come to a halt. An unusual silence filled his ears and he realized that he was now alone, without any of his normal protection. His master was gone and so was his mistress, the woman who had pulled him into the shadows and devoured him whole. Addiction personified. It was a frightening feeling, knowing that he would now have to do whatever it took to stay alive, but as Peter took a deep breath, the last of his good will began to fade. He was ready. It was how Sirius found him when he apparated into his flat, his wand directly pointed at Peter's face.

"Pettigrew."

He saw the absolute contempt on Sirius' face and knew that he was going to personally make Peter pay for his evil deeds. He had a good chance of besting him too, he'd always been a better dueler. But there was something else too, agonizing despair. His eyes were swollen and red; he looked as if he'd been crying without much sleep. In fact, there were tears in his eyes as he gasped for air.

The traitor had a split second to react before Sirius sent a Cruciatus Curse his way; he managed to dodge it and retreated back into his bedroom to grab his bag. He heard Sirius cast a spell to stop him from apparating away – one that Dumbledore had taught them to use if they ever needed to bring an enemy in for safe keeping and questioning – and realized how stupid he'd been. Now he was trapped and a sitting duck for Sirius to finish the job since his bedroom didn't have any windows. Peter quickly put up another blockade – making sure not to use Marauder spells Sirius would know the counter curse for - as he thought of a way to escape.

Sirius, meanwhile, hit the bedroom door with all he had. The room started to shake.

"HOW COULD YOU? HOW COULD YOU BETRAY YOUR FRIENDS?"

"Padfoot, please!

"YOU WERE THEIR SECRET KEEPER! I TRUSTED YOU!"

"I can explain -"

"TRAITOR! YOU T-TRAITOR!"

"Pad -"

"THEY'RE DEAD BECAUSE OF YOU, PETTIGREW! THEY'RE DEAD AND GEMMA IS - IS - IS GONE!"

His heart pounded as he listened to Sirius howl in pain. His anger was legendary, but maybe if it was misdirected … Peter's eyes darkened as he quickly thought up a cunning lie to placate Sirius, following in his master's footsteps. He had to do anything to survive, get out of his flat and dissolve into the shadows, the only place he felt comfortable without Voldemort and Luciana to anchor him.

"Do you see the body out there? It's Rosier! Luciana Rosier, remember her?"

Just speaking her name again sent shivers down his spine, which was an odd sensation paired against his hysteria.

"I thought I killed her in Cornwall," Sirius snarled. Peter took the information and ran with it.

"You d-didn't! She came after me to get back at you!"

"And she choose you? Over Gemma?" He heard Sirius hiccup after saying her name and throwing another spell at the door to knock it down. Unbeknownst to Peter, a small ancient mark appeared on the door after coming in contact with it.

"I don't know why she did what she did! But she kept me in here until she could find some useful information. She - she imperioused me and made me give up Prongs' location! I had no choice in the matter!"

There was a silence on the other end of the door. For a moment, Peter thought he'd gotten away with his lie, but it was short lived. He heard Sirius' footsteps come up to the door, his fingers move across the wood. Sirius then quietly cast the counter curse to his blockade and Peter squaked when he opened the door, his eyes ablaze.

"Did you think I wouldn't recognize this spell?" Sirius growled. He took Peter by surprise and slammed him against one of the walls, putting a hand around his throat. "It's an old one every pureblood family teaches their kids if they ever get in too much trouble. One you couldn't have learned without help. Rosier's, I now imagine, since you probably killed her to cover your tracks. You disgust me."

Peter whimpered, almost throwing up again.

"Please Padfoot, have mercy on me."

Sirius' eyes narrowed.

"No mercy."

Yet, just before Sirius raised his wand and cast the Killing curse, Peter's animal instincts took control of the situation without his brain realizing it. He quickly transformed into a rat, dodging the spell and scurrying between his attacker's legs towards freedom. Sirius yelled and vigorously started to cast more Unforgivables as Peter ran for his life. He found an open hole on the wall and climbed inside, shimmying down the walls towards freedom. But Sirius was in close pursuit, having turned into his animagus who was good at recognizing the rat's scent. He barked and scrambled down the stairs to keep up.

Peter eventually found a crack in the building's exterior wall, pushing through until he was successful and spilled onto the busy Brixton street. He transfigured back into a human and began to sprint away towards the Muggle part of town where it would be easier to hide; he only had a minute or so of an advantage, as Sirius had noticed his absence and ran out of the front door to catch him. The Order Member tried casting a few silent tripping spells to slow him down without causing a panic, but Peter was able to avoid them. He bounced from crowd to crowd and tried not to flinch when someone around him fell to their knees.

A group of Muggles gathered on the corner to wait for the traffic light and Peter took a moment to catch his breath and hide next to them. He felt a bit of relief as the light turned green and his cover began to move towards the other side of the street, but never fully let his guard down, knowing Sirius could be anywhere. Yet, as the Muggles began to slowly disperse, each person going their own way down the road, Peter's body began to ache from the day's tense events. His feet felt like heavy NEWT textbooks and demanded rest, so when he felt the coast was clear, the traitor found a bus stop bench to sit on. The woman next to him was reading the paper and paying him no attention.

His heart and thoughts kept anxiously racing despite his physical fatigue. It seemed he'd lost Sirius, but what was he going to do next? He couldn't go home, that would be the first place his enemies would look. He thankfully had his escape bag on him, but that wouldn't last forever. Maybe he needed to be like Aeryn and go to America, the country of second chances. Just start anew and pretend like none of this happened.

However, he would not be that lucky; Sirius blocked the sunlight in front of him and caused him to look up and meet his scowl. Peter jumped to his feet but realized he had nowhere to go. The bus stop shelter caged him in.

"No mercy," snarled Sirius.

The earlier silence he'd experienced after Luciana's death reappeared as time seemed to freeze; adrenaline filtered down his spine and into his extremities, supercharging him with fight or flight energy. But unlike his earlier escape, Peter chose to stand his ground and fight this time. He could never outrun Sirius after being found at the bus stop, so it was now a matter of theatrics to cover up for his poor dueling skills - something all Death Eaters learned when they were first trained for battle. But what could he draw upon? Peter took a quick glance around and was reminded they were on a public street; something that kept Sirius from raising his wand and outright killing him. He had too much dignity to do that in front of Muggles. The wheels in his brain quickly began to turn as he came up with a scrappy plan to fake his own death and gain the upper hand.

This time he had no remorse for endangering his old friend.

"He betrayed them!" Peter yelled. Sirius' face when white. A crowd of Muggles on the street around them started to pay attention. "The Potters, they're dead because of him!"

"What are you doing?" Sirius said under his breath, looking around nervously.

"He betrayed them!" To get more attention, he silently cast an amplification charm and cupped his hands before yelling even louder. "SIRIUS BLACK KILLED THE POTTERS!"

Sirius immediately reached for his wand, not caring about niceties in the slightest, but Peter was too quick. Before he could cast a spell, the spy cast a mighty Blasting Curse into the ground, flinging asphalt and Muggle body parts into the air; those who didn't meet their end cupped their ears in shock, their eardrums ringing from the explosion. Peter tried to bear the lightning hot pain in his hand before regaining his footing and climbing into the crater with exposed sewer pipes. As the dust began to settle, he noticed that his finger was only attached by a thin piece of flesh. He braced himself and then ripped it off, using it as more evidence for his cause, and flung it onto the street next to the other human remains.

And with that, he transformed into his Animagus and ran for his life, sealing his fate forever.


Author's note: well there you have it. The end.

At some point, I will come back and write several paragraphs about what this story has really meant to me, but I don't want to delay posting the chapter while I sort everything out. But what I can really say is that writing this story saved my mental health; all of the OCs are me at different points of my life and some things from the plot were very close to my truths (rejections, joys, strengths, toxicity/addiction, etc). If you have any more questions on the subject, please leave a review and I'll happily explain. But for now, thank you for reading my heart and soul on a computer screen. Your support pulled me out of some dark places.

Appreciate all your reviews over the years. Much love.