Author's note: Last chapter I forgot to mention one thing: this playing of songs will become important. I'm going to make year 4 the year where a lot of thing which seem random at first, are suddenly not so random anymore… Also, I'm meaning to make this like obvious in hindsight, but not in first sight. So, yeah, that's one of the reasons why I need to take time off. Sorry. Truly. I know how annoying it is…

In my absence: there's a poll on my page, about who Harry should take to the Yule Ball. If you want anyone who isn't listed, PM, I'll add them. I'm secretly hoping for someone, but I will not count my own vote. Hope to see yours!

And a more urgent one: which House do you see Jane in?

*edit* apparently, I can only have one poll in my profile page. This means that you can, for now, only vote for Jane's House. I'll stop that one when I upload next chapter, and then you'll be able to vote for the other one. Thank you for your patience!

Harry's POV, charity's event

It was busy, at the neighbours. It was great fun, walking around, with nothing to worry about – for a change, you know. There seemed to be a lot of worrying to do, lately.

"Hey look, Ron," Jane said excitedly, "there's a chess match, too! Do you want to participate?"

After all, Hermione, Jane, Lara and Harry were all participating in either the show jumping or the cross country.

"Yeah mate, you should totally do it! They won't know what hit them!", Harry says excitedly.

Ron agrees, and there's that.

The first to start is the show jumping, and so they go to the stands near the arena.

"What do you have to do to win this, actually?", Sirius asks casually.

"You have to make the fastest round. If you hit the obstacle, and it breaks down or if you hit the ground before the white line of the water or jump too late, there's a penalty of four points. Those are taken into account, too. And then, if you exceed the allowed time, you get one penalty point per second," Henry replied amusedly. He'd been to enough shows to know this, although Jane and Harry rarely participated in big shows, just a few over the holidays.

"It looks difficult," Sirius said dubiously. "How high are those, anyway?"

"One meter forty," Jane replies from behind him.

Sirius eyes her quizzically, and she rolls her eyes. "4.6 feet, approximately. Honestly, why do you English insist on calculating and measuring with every body part available?"

"Well," Sirius said with a grin, "at least we know when we're making tea!"

The day prior, Jane had been cooking dinner. Sirius had come in, saying something like 'almost time for tea?' and she'd honestly thought he was talking about the beverage – but apparently, English could replace every single word with 'tea'. *

Jane muttered something under her breath. Harry thought it had to do with annoying Englishmen. Suppressing a grin, he gestured to the course. "And, Lara, what do you think?"

"I think Hermione is going to give me a hard time with this one," she replied. "She's way better in calculating a short course, with the shortest turns possible."

Harry grinned. That did sound like his female best friend. "Speaking of the devil…"

Hermione had just appeared; on the horse she was riding (she would be the first contestant to have a go). The course was, indeed, one of the hardest Harry had ever laid eyes on. It started in the left bottom corner, with a combination of two fences. Then, there was a ninety degree turn to a broad oxer, followed by water on the diagonal. After the water, there was a forty-five degree turn in the left bottom corner, at the end of the diagonal, followed by another combination of three. Then they were at the right bottom corner, and needed to ride up until another combination of two, on the other diagonal, with the finish in the left upper corner.**

All in all, there was a fair amount of room for different approaches. Hermione seemed to go for speed and safety. She let her horse go as hard as she dared on long pieces of the course, and the people in the stand watched excitedly as she cleared fence after fence, before clapping loudly when she remained without faults.

Lara frowned. "I have no idea how to top that off," she complained with a smile. Winning was not as important to her – running a round she could be proud of was far more important.

Harry smiled. "I do, but you won't like it."

Jane groaned. Apparently, she had seen the same opportunity, but she also knew her sister wouldn't like to hear about it, nor would she enjoy to watch it.

At Lara's expectant look, Harry continued: "That last combination, Hermione rode three strides in between, but I think you can manage with two. You'll have to press through, that's true, but it's possible."

"But what with the combination of three before it? I can never pick up enough speed, what with that turn before the fences- "

"Unless, you don't jump it neat. When you approach in a slight angle… I mean, if you start picking up speed before the triple, then keep it, turn like forty degrees, because you go to fast, you should make it. But you'll have to ride hard."

Lara blinked. "And if I don't do everything perfect, I'll fall."

Harry shrugged. "I never said it was safe!"

In the end, though, Lara had decided to run the triple like normal, but to speed the turn. Unfortunately, like Harry had predicted, she didn't have enough speed to clear the double, knocking into the fence with a hoof. With a four-point penalty and a fast time, neither thought she'd take a medal.

The rest of the afternoon was spent at the chess tournament, where Ron kept amazing everyone. Even the Weasley's, Harry and Hermione, used to Ron's skill, had to admit he did even better than usual. He won with ease, and wrote a time record on his name for shortest match in the contest.

"Hey mate! That was bloody brilliant!", Harry congratulated Ron.

Ron smiled a bit offhandedly: "Ah, no, they just weren't that good."

Hermione snickered. "Ron, that one there was once Olympic champion in chess. He's top of the world!"

Ron's ears coloured slightly at that, and Harry thought he could hear him mumble about knowing how Harry felt. Taking pity on his friend, he nudged Jane: "shouldn't we get going?"

She nodded, after congratulating Ron one more time.

The cross-country route went through a forest, through a lake, then through a maze of hedges, and ended at the entrance of what used to be a graveyard. Slightly lurid, if you asked Harry, but okay.

"The creators of those fences are certainly creative," mister Weasley said.

Jane smiled at him. "That's the intention."

There was a chess table, a planet, a lot of hedges, a cup, something that resembled a tombstone (luckily not a real one), a key, a lot of trees and a dozen of other things.

In the end, it was Harry who took the win, by half a second. Jane followed in second place. Harry had taken slightly more risks when approaching the fences, winning him some time – but, as Jane kept saying, also more dangerous.

The evening was spend talking among friends in Jane's private garden behind the embassy, eating the food she, Harry and Henry had prepared. They talked about all kinds of small things, from Bills hair (too long, according to Molly), the round of chess (brilliant, said Henry, who was a chess fan, unlike his two adopted children), the show-jumping (should've gone with Harry's suggestion…), the cross-country (brilliant round, Harry) and the upcoming Quidditch game (Ireland is better!).

Jane's POV, her house, five o'clock in the morning

Jane had fully intended to sleep in. With emphasis on intended.

Why? Simply because she'd had a bad summer. First, there was the near-death experience of her friend, Harry Potter. Now that was nothing new, but the fact that it was because of relatives was, in fact, new to her. The trial that had followed – both of his guardians and his godfather, albeit for other crimes – had been a stressful time. Combine that with late nights in the embassy, because Fudge had issues with the innocence of said Godfather, and another near-death experience for Harry on her territory; she thought she deserved to sleep in. Unfortunately, something – or someone, she thought sourly – had woken her. Trying to lay as still as possible, she tried to determine what it was.

A sound. Of someone in the corridor.

Marvellous, she thought. Isn't that what everyone wants, an intruder in the middle of the night, only a – one! one, for God's sake *mental facepalm* - week after said attack on her friend?

She opened her eyes, squinting through the dark of her room. The handle of her bedroom door moved!

It was enough to make even a sane person paranoid.

Quietly, she came out of bed. She needed a place to hide… Unfortunately, there were limited options: the curtains and underneath her bed. The first one was still relatively visible, the second one meant she was trapped. Not really compelling. Instead, she chose to stand next the door. That meant, when the unknown person entered the room, the door would be between them. She could use it as a weapon, or try to sneak out when he or she went to examine her now empty bed. Or she could hold him or her at wand point.

When the intruder snuck in, she took a moment to notice the person was a little taller than she was, and walked swiftly to the bed. Until, of course, she tapped with her wand on the back of said person's neck.

"Show me your hands," she said frostily.

"Jeez, no reason to scare me," a familiar voice whispered.

Closing the door, turning on the light, she replied: "what form does your Patronus take?"

"A stag. And it's way too early for this, Jane."

"Is it now?!", she whisper-screamed. "Perhaps you'll do me the honour of not scaring me to death, then?" She moved to stand next to him, in front of her bed.

"Sorry," he smiled sheepishly.

She took a closer look at him. He was pale, dark bags under his eyes. He was trembling, and his eyes looked bloodshot.

"What happened?", she asked seriously, pulling him onto the bed next to her when he swayed.

"Didn't it strike you as odd that the attackers used Diffindo, and not something more sinister?"

"Well, perhaps they don't like their left," she replied, stone-faced, confused. Seeing his uncomprehending look, she amended: "Sinister means left in Latin."

Harry made an impatient gesture.

"Can't this wait until a more reasonable time?!"

"No! Think! Tell me, for the sake of my sanity, I'm paranoid!"

Jane blinked at him. "Your sanity is going to improve if you're paranoid?!"

Harry sighed impatiently.

"Okay, okay. I've thought about it, but just drew a blank. Still do."

Harry muttered something under his breath. Jane thought – rightfully so – that it was not a compliment.

"Okay, hear me out. What kind of wound would have existed, had I not been in the way?"

Jane blinked. "… A sliced throat?" She still had no idea what her friend just realized.

"Right. And is it possible to… Alter this wound? To make someone else look guilty?"

Jane stiffened. Off course.

"Are you saying that, if the curse had hit its target – Sirius would've been dead. And Remus… They wanted to make it look as if a werewolf did it! Sweet Merlin," she whispered faintly. "They thought you'd be on your own after that."

"Or, if Sirius was the target, no one would believe the government was behind it. I'm 'grieve-stricken', Remus 'killed' him. Who is left to defend the truth?"

Jane closed her eyes. "So, the British government is involved." It was bad enough that they had locked an innocent man up in hell. No, now they had a hand – at least by giving intel – in an attempted murder, on the same person.

And she worked for them.

Indirectly, but still working for them.

Turning to the boy next to her, she frowned as she noted he was still trembling. And was it the light, or was his scar slightly more red – or more accurately, the skin around it?

"How did you come to that realisation?", she asked softly.

"Well, a bit after you left, Ron returned – forgot his sweater – and then he said that in Divination, last year, during his finals, the teacher had said something about a servant, hidden for twelve years, joining his master and allowing him to rise again… I – normally, I wouldn't be bothered, but tonight, my scar hurt during this vision…"

"Vision about what?", Jane asked suspiciously. She had a good idea what he was trying to hide from her.

Harry fidgeted a bit. "Murder."

Jane eyed him a bit. "Your murder," she realised.

Harry shrugged half-heartedly.

She was starting to seriously hate it when he did that – then again, she wasn't better with her own safety.

Jane POV, next day

Before going to the Ministry, she said her temporary goodbyes to Harry, as he would stay with the Weasley's until he went to Hogwarts. She stopped working and went to the World Championships Quidditch. Hopefully, despite the rather short night, she would be able to relax.

But first things first, she thought, as she entered the building. It was way more empty than normally, and she proceeded until the office of Head of the DMLE, meeting up with the secretary. She'd tried to get here in a shorter time span, but it had proven impossible. Quidditch.

The secretary formally announced her. "Madame Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Jane Davidson, ambassador for France in Magical Britain, is here to see you about an urgent matter."

Her first impression of the woman was that she looked vaguely familiar, a bit like a girl in Hufflepuff she'd seen, from Harry's year. She wore a monocle, and looked fair and yet strict. She had close-cropped grey hair.

"Madame ambassador, pleased to meet you," the woman said, giving her a firm hand and closing the door behind the secretary. "What can we do for you?"

More good impressions. No twisting and turning around the matter for some time, like Fudge would've done. "I was wondering how the investigation regarding an attack on my premises fared," Jane said slowly. She had the horrible feeling she was right and Fudge didn't talk to Madame Bones, certainly when her eyebrows twisted in a knot.

"What attack?", she asked curtly.

Jane bowed her head, hiding a furious expression. When her face was blank again, she looked up again. "Three days ago, late at night, I got a notification that two people had arrived by Portkey in the Atrium of the embassy. They were attacked, and one of them, a fourteen-year-old, was severely injured. I had Aurors following the trail of the attackers, and they returned with what appears to be a piece of Acromantula silk, interwoven with protective spells, the standard outfit for Hitwizards."

Madame Bones was silent for a while.

Jane continued: "I hope you understand, Madame, that I value the safety of those who reside on the grounds of the embassy. This is a sensitive matter."

Madame Bones blinked. "But of course. How is the injured?"

"He has recovered, but it was a close call."

"Then I hope you will bring over my sincerest apologies. I'll have Aurors look into this. Who were attacked?"

Jane grimaced. "That's the other reason for secrecy. It concerns Harry Potter and Sirius Black."

Madame Bones frowned. "How is mister Black's trial faring?"

"He's declared innocent," she replied curtly.

Madame Bones nodded. "I'll have to question them," she replied.

Jane frowned. "Prime Minister Fudge has their written testimonies."

Madame Bones looked furious when they concluded their meeting. Fudge probably should watch out with her, Jane thought, she doesn't look like she appreciates his stunt. Then again, who would?

With that, she walked out and wandered through the corridors with Auror's offices. It was possible that Tonks was out, and even likely, but Jane didn't want to come here another time, because she'd just made Fudge's life more difficult and she had no intention of meeting again soon – at least not until he had cooled down.

Coming to a halt, she noticed a door with name plates 'Kingsley Shacklebolt and Nymphadora Tonks'. She smiled, remembering how the woman had indeed tried to use her partners name to fool her. It was not like she minded – she used an alias all the time, after all. She knocked.

"Come in," a deep voice said.

Certainly not Tonks' voice. She entered nonetheless. The room contained two desks, a lot of floating memo's, and a blackboard. Two people stood before the latter.

"Sorry for interrupting," she apologised softly.

"Not at all," Tonks exclaimed, knocking her ink jar over on the way to the door – she'd had to walk between the desks – and closing it, while pulling Jane inside. She muttered a charm, pointing at the doors. "Privacy charm."

Jane nodded. "Smart. Jane Davidson, ambassador for Magical France," she amended to presumably Kingsley.

"Kingsley Shacklebolt, what can we do for you?"

"In regards of your request…", Jane started.

"You can speak freely," Tonks interrupted her.

"Right. Sirius Black, after being proven innocent back in France, will be pleased to meet with you and your mother. I had to add that he's looking forward to having you both – and, of course, your father, too – at dinner, sometime next week…?"

"I'll owl him when I've seen mum – she's a Healer, you know- "

Jane smiled lightly. "As is my father, so no need to explain. Now, then, delighted to meet you. You can just say that this conversation was about my testimony in regards of an attack by British Hitwizards on my grounds, a week ago."

They both blinked and looked worried. "Don't worry so much, I've got security… I'll be off, then. See you around."

Checking her watch, she realised she needed to make haste, and asked Treaty, her house-elf, to Apparate them to the place where the game would be held.

Jane POV, a few minutes later

At first, it was relaxing – admittedly, there was an incident she'd had to smother with the Bulgarian Prime Minister and Fudge giving out half the seats of the Top Box, and out of pure sympathy, she'd translated when Fudge was introducing the guests in the Top Box – but aside from that moment, it was hard, even as a non-Quidditch fan, not to enjoy; the atmosphere was simply to buzzing with anticipation. The stadium was marvellous, and she'd had to work hard to shield herself from all the excitement coming from the people. Nonetheless, it was a marvellous sight, from the Top Box. Admittedly, she had a hard time being civil to Lucius Malfoy, but hey, you can't have everything.

After the match, she had accepted the invitation to stay with the Weasley's, in the tent for the girls. It had been a great night, even though the people kept celebrating: the company did her well.

That was, of course, until all hell broke loose.

"Wake up!", the alarmed shout from none else than Arthur Weasley had her up on her feet before she even had time to process it. She heard screaming outside the tent; the festivities had ceased. Trouble was brewing.

"Get to the forest!", Arthur said. "We're going to help the Ministry!"

Jane went with them. Catching his glance, she said: "I'm trained for attacks. Don't worry, I've beaten Auror Moody once…"

He seemed somewhat mollified, but not entirely. He could use her guard of Aurors, too. Anyway, they came closer and the fight begun.

Curses where thrown left and right, and in the dark, determining who is friend and who is foo is difficult. Every now and then, green light shines over the crowd, possibly in an attempt to scare them. Jane falls into a litany: dodge, stun, duck, spell and the whole thing over again. Her fighting stile generally relies on casting a shield and rebounding, but she has no idea how long she can call on it.

A Death Eater goes down, then another one. A curse flew over her left shoulder, she threw back a stunner of her own. The Death Eater dodged, and she narrowed her eyes. This one was better than the other she had fought. He sent another curse, she dodged. She sent a curse, he blocked. Problem. They couldn't continue like that. Allowing her wand to drop, he sent a curse flying to her wand arm.

But she wasn't there, she'd leapt forward the moment she'd seen the curse coming her way, and Jane stabbed with her wand in an eye hole of the mask. He screamed. Satisfied, she put the man in the full-body bind before moving on.

Distinctly, she heard shouting, then she was flat on the ground.

Looking back, she saw Bill taking the curse that had been meant for her heart, in his arm. It started blooding profusely, and Jane took a rock laying on the campsite and threw at the attacker. Getting to her feet, folding her shield around them, she asked him: "are you okay?"

"Yes, watch yourself!"

And the fight continued. Jane started to tire, her wand arm feeling like lead, as she struggled to keep her shield up in the air and invisible. She didn't want her talent to be known by everyone. At some point in time, she realised her opponents where considerably slower, and the fight was soon over after that, when people started screaming – the real culprits had gotten away, of course. Cursing under her breath, she quickly sent her shield up, trying to keep the Muggles from falling. But it proved unnecessary, as they had levitating spells ready.

Then, a strange silence.

Whirling around, wand in her hands, she stared.

The Dark Mark had appeared, above the forest.

Jane stumbled forward, and as Arthur Apparated away to the place where the Mark was, she was sucked with him. Before she could gather herself after the landing, she heard "STUPEFY!", from all directions, and someone yelled "DUCK!"

"STOP!", she bellowed. She recognised that voice. And she was proven correct, when a pale Ron, Hermione and Harry looked up at her, together with a girl she didn't recognise but looked vaguely familiar, who was mumbling things under her breath.

Bartemius Crouch eyed her, a mad glint in his eyes. "They must've called the Mark! Who - "

"Stop it," she said waspishly. "I don't know how you do things here, Crouch, but in my country, we don't accuse people just because they were at a certain place at a certain time."

Ignoring his spluttering, she amended: "and when the daughter of our PM is involved, I'd be careful."

She'd recognised the girl now – Justine Magnolis.

"What happened?" she asked Harry.

"We heard a voice saying something, standing there- "

"Oh- "Crouch interrupted.

She cut him off. "Check them, then. Stunner went straight through there."

"As-tu vu quelque chose?", Jane asks her. [Have you seen something?]

"Oui, la bas, il y était un homme. Il a dit quelque chose, mais je n'ai pas compris." [Yes, over there, there stood a man. He said something, but I didn't understand him.]

Jane nodded. "There you go, then."

Unfortunately, that was when they found Winky with Harry's wand.

French Prime Minister Dubois POV, early morning

There's frantic knocking on the door of her bedroom, and she knows it's nothing good. Good news is no reason to wake people up at five o'clock in the morning. Getting some clothes on from a nearby chair, she opens the door. Luckily, her husband sleeps like a log.

"Madame, Jane Davidson est arrivé avec ta fille. C'est urgent." [Mrs., Jane Davidson has arrived with your daughter. It's urgent.]

The Prime Minister nods her thanks and urgently wakes her husband, an Englishman named Edward. They hurry along the corridor, running and forgetting all about their dignity, until, in front of their office, they are confronted with their girl, sleeping soundly on the couch next to Jane Davidson. Gently, Edward picks her up and walks her to her room, assured that his daughter is fine.

"Sorry about the late – or early – hour, madame," Jane says, as Edward enters again.

"What happened?", the PM asks sharply, as her husband moves to stand next to her.

"There was a riot after the World Championships Quidditch. The Ministry did their best – sending the children to the forest, where they were supposedly safe – "

"Supposedly?!"

Jane grimaces. "The Dark Mark rose above the forest."

Prime Minister Dubois falls in a chair. "Who is death?", she asks softly.

"No one, but… Well, your daughter got separated from Madame Mallemour, ran into Harry and his friends, and Harry invited her to stay with them, instead of wandering through the forest alone – they could go find her afterwards. Then, when they arrived at a clearing, they decided to wait for news. The person who cast the spell for the Mark, was right behind the trees."

The Prime Minister closes her eyes. So close to her little girl… Well, she would become seventeen in the first week of September, but still. Her husband grabs her shoulder reassuringly.

"The Ministry apparated and shot stunners, but they only hit a house-elf belonging to Bartemius Crouch- "

"Crouch Sr.?!", Edward half-shouted.

Jane raised an eyebrow at him, to tired to do anything else.

"There was a whole… There's a story to the man. He was about to become the next PM, as he was a popular head of DMLE. But then… His son was proven to be a Death Eater. There was a trial, but his reputation was never the same – although it's said the trial was pretty ruthless. Then he was put on another department… He became head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, while Fudge became PM. But some people say he's as ruthless as the Death Eaters, although he was very opposed to their ways."

Jane tilted her head. "I can see that, he wasn't exactly… Charming. He frightened me, to be honest."

There's a moment of silence. Jane finally amended: "I've got a bad feeling about this year, if I may be so bold. First there's an attack on Harry on my grounds- "

"What?", Prime Minister Dubois asks her sharply.

Jane blinked. "I'm assuming Fudge didn't follow through with that, either. There was an attack on Harry and Sirius, three days ago. Harry got injured, but he's fine. When we followed their attackers, we discovered a cloth, made of Acromantula silk."

Edward looked confused. His wife explains softly: "English Hitwizards are the only ones allowed to wear that."

"And then, Harry reported pain in his scar – the last time that happened was when Voldemort was at Hogwarts – and now, for the first time in more then a decade, we've seen the Dark Mark."

The PM shook her head. "It's not an all-out war yet, so I can't pull you back yet- "

"With all due respect," Jane interrupted, "if war comes, I'll stay. I have friends there, and they'll not leave, they'll not go down without a fight. I can not maintain my position, that I understand, but that doesn't mean I'm coming back here."

Mrs. Dubois sighed. It's not like she didn't expect it, but she had hope. "Let's put that conversation of for now – it's still early. I will, however, increase your private security. The signs that war is brewing are here. It makes no sense to wait until death is knocking on your door."

Jane objected, but the PM interrupted her: "My daughter will be there, too. Think of it as security for both of you- "

"How come?", Jane asks curiously.

"The Tri-wizard tournament is coming back." At Jane's quizzical look, she explains: "this is a game, where students from Beauxbatons, Hogwarts and Durmstrang participate in. They battle for the glory, and the tournament's cup. The prize this year is a thousand galleons. They have to fulfil three tasks."

"And since Durmstrang's head was a Death Eater, a little extra security is never far away," Edward added.

Jane eyes her suspiciously. "And why was it disbanded in the first place?"

Edward sniggers. He wasn't a big fan of bringing the tournament back, having lost a student in his year because of it. His wife, on the other hand, thought it was good for the international relationships and the children attending – more diversity and all. But he knows that Jane won't like the Tournament when she hears people died in it, and it's nice to hear someone else giving her the same arguments.

"Well, there were some – people died in it, sometimes. But it's much safer now. There's an age line, so only over seventeen can participate. And you can't convince the one who is electing that your seventeen when you're not, it's impossible…"

Jane flinched. Sometimes, she felt like 'impossible' was a word not to be spoken around Harry Potter – it seemed he could do it, always. Sometimes it felt like she should just bottle up his luck and throw it at Voldemort; it would safe them a lot of trouble.

Their meeting was concluded not much later.

Remus POV, a few hours later

The morning after the World Championships, it was no surprise Sirius was up as early as six o'clock. He would want to know the results, that was something Remus knew. He also knew he would probably have to endure a play by play analysis of the game – sometimes, Harry was just as much of Quidditch nut as Sirius. And James.

The thought about his friend quickly dispelled all other thoughts of trying to sleep, and Remus decided for a nice long shower. That would relax him… As he was getting ready in the bathroom, after his 'long' shower (Sirius had, for the fun of it, turned off the warm water, because he was bored with the waiting for the owl with the newspaper), he heard the noise of a window opening and closing again. Expecting Sirius to yell upstairs who had won, he waited patiently.

Five minutes.

Ten.

There came no noise at all from the kitchen. More than a little anxious, Remus descended the stairs and walked towards the kitchen. Sirius stood there. He'd obviously not heard Remus entering. He stood there, in the morning light, frozen, with the newspaper in his hand. Something in his expression reminded Remus of the past, of days at Hogwarts, when the newspaper arrived and announced the death of someone they had known.

"Sirius?"

Wordlessly, he brandished the newspaper in Remus' direction.

He didn't even need to look at the headline.

The Dark Mark stared at him from the front page, and he didn't even need to ask where it had appeared.

It took minutes, but finally, he snapped out of the daze and begun reading the article. Or at least, some words sprung out it: 'mayhem', 'Death Eaters', 'Dark Mark' and finally, the worst – oh, why did it have to be there – 'several bodies'.

"Let's go to Molly's," Remus finally said hoarsely.

Sirius POV, the Burrow

How he'd managed to land himself in this place, he'd forgotten. In fact, ever since he'd received the newspaper, it seemed nothing registered properly. Molly was beside herself with worry – of course she was, all her children, her husband, and even two friends of the family where there, alongside with various people they knew. It was like someone had announced it was war again, and Sirius felt like the time of peace had been way to short. He hoped none of Molly's children, nor her husband, nor Hermione had been involved.

He was not foolish enough to believe Harry hadn't been implicated in any way. That kid would never have just let those people go on, when Muggles where floating in the air. He was too much like James for that, too much like Lily too – but at least, she'd have recognised this was not her fight; at least not yet.

He made himself no illusions Harry had at least tried to fight. He was only fourteen, Defence was rubbish at Hogwarts. How could he possibly survive a fight with a Death Eater? But he had to. Sirius had met his Godson, and he had warmed his hart in a way he'd thought impossible. It reminded him forcefully of the Maurader's glory days at Hogwarts.

Speaking of which, Remus was watching him anxiously again. Probably thought Sirius was going into shock. He'd always been the voice of reason, of wisdom, in their group. That didn't mean he wasn't a fierce opponent, oh no. Many had made that mistake. They always ended up in a prank… Moony could spend days and days in the Library, to be sure no one would be harmed (permanently) by their pranks. Remus was the one who told them they were out of line. He was also the first to retaliate when someone was badmouthing his friends (morstly with words, though); although he was far more friendly with that than James or Sirius had been. Moony was also always the worrywart, something that hadn't changed.

After half an hour of waiting, finally, something moved at the end of the street. Sirius breaths out as he recognised the typical raven-black hair, looking like he'd just come out of a tornado or something. Relieved, he saw Harry had no visible injuries, although he looked tired – and who would sleep well, after such a night? He quickly did a head count, and sighed contently when he realised all who had left had returned, before stiffening when he didn't see Jane. There was another man walking with them, though, and he looked vaguely familiar.

"Arthur!", Molly screamed, running towards him.

He made his way out of the house, too, followed by Remus and gave Harry a bone-crushing hug.

"You okay, kid?", he asked, his voice low. It sounded like it didn't belong to him.

He felt Harry awkwardly patting his back. "Fine."

Behind him, Remus muttered something that sounded like 'always saying that', so he broke free from the hug and held Harry at arm's length.

The teen rolled his eyes. "Truly, fine." Then he groaned, because Remus held him in a tight embrace now.

Next to them, the Weasley's where doing the same. Sirius is looking at the extra guy, who holds his distance and is keeping a sharp eye on the environment. Harry – after being released by Moony, and making a show of counting his ribs – smiles, and says: "This is Jean, Jane's private guard."

"And where is she? Not injured, I hope?", Molly asks anxiously.

Harry shakes his head. "She had to report to the French PM, and she decided to bring the daughter of the PM along, while she was at it. She's probably on her way back to the embassy. I imagine there's a lot of political work to do."

"Like what?", Ron asks.

"Like smoothing things over with allies – tell them they're investigating it. Making sure they can complain to someone because someone high up is injured. That kind of thing," Harry replies.

"Sounds fun, Gred," one of the twins says sarcastically.

Sirius tries to catch Remus' eye, who nods. "Molly, I hope you don't mind, but his guardians would like to have Harry at home," Sirius says. He hates lying, but they don't want Dumbledore to know Harry is not with the Dursleys anymore, not before they know why he wanted him there in the first place.

"Of course," she says understandingly. "You can use the floo."

It doesn't take Harry long before he says his goodbyes to his friends.

* I've only been once to England, but something similar happened to me then. I hope I'm not offending anyone, because it's meant like a joke about culture differences. In hindsight, it was funny to me, and I could laugh with. I hope those reading this can, too.

** I truly hope you can follow the course. I'm not that good at describing. Also, I may have breached some rules of show-jumping, as all info on them comes from Wikipedia (again…).

So, until the beginning of October, it is... Remember there's an open poll, and thank you for reading!