Saturday 8 July, 1995:

There were sixteen people seated around the kitchen table of 12 Grimmauld Place for the first ever meeting of the Second Order of the Phoenix. Lena knew about half of them – if not personally, then at least by reputation. She was sitting to the left of Sirius, who as the host, sat at one end of the table. Remus was on her other side. At the opposite end was Dumbledore, flanked by the famous former Auror Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody, and an old wizard who Lena didn't know, but Remus had greeted as 'Elphias'. Minerva McGonagall sat next to him, and on her other side was Severus Snape, who, after an initial glare of distrust and distaste, was now studiously avoiding looking at Lena.

He hadn't been the only one who had met Lena's involvement with apprehension. She'd received a few odd looks and wary expressions as the Order had filtered into the kitchen, including a particularly awkward moment of sustained eye contact with her cousin Nymphadora Tonks – although no words had been exchanged between them. In fact, they had never said a word to each other, even when they'd been at Hogwarts at the same time. The Metamorphagus was now seated on the other side of Remus, who clearly didn't have a clue why there was a strange tension between the young women of whom he was sat in-between.

At the moment, however, all eyes were on Dumbledore as he welcomed everyone to the meeting.

"Once again," he was saying, "I thank you all. I understand the decision to join this Order is not one to be made lightly. Our task ahead is dangerous, and without the support of the Ministry, one that has become even more difficult than before. But we cannot simply wait for Voldemort to reveal himself. One life has already been lost. Our fight has already begun."

Lena glanced at Remus. He was nodding, and she could see the determination in his eyes. For a second, she was torn between two opposing impulses: wanting to drag him to the other side of the world, as far away from this war as she could, so that he would be safe from Voldemort... and also wanting to hop onto his lap and start thoroughly snogging him, because she was just so damn attracted to him right now. Fortunately, she managed to refrain from doing either as Dumbledore continued.

"Now, there is much to be done, and as soon as possible. Firstly, we must acknowledge that one of our own betrayed us. Peter Pettigrew was a spy for Voldemort and was instrumental in his return. We must assume that everything we discussed in the First Order is knowledge to which Voldemort is also privy. Secondly, we know that as well as Pettigrew, Lucius Malfoy, Walden Macnair, Geoffrey Crabbe, Charles Goyle, Bartholomew Nott, Tertius Avery, Alecto and Amycus Carrow, and Corban Yaxley have all rejoined the Death Eaters. Undoubtedly, Voldemort will wish to recruit more, and we need to determine who they may target, and keep them under close observation."

There was a murmured agreement around the room.

"The Gibbon family were always big supporters of Voldemort," said Sirius. "I remember there was a Gibbon a few years below us at Hogwarts, so he wouldn't have been old enough to join then, but now..."

Sirius' suggestion opened the floodgates for barrage of other suspicions to be voiced. Lena kept quiet until a few familiar names were mentioned.

"The Flints have a son who's recently graduated, and the Burkes too," the Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt was saying. "Those families have a history of blood supremacy."

"I don't think Marcus or Aloysius would be interested in joining the Death Eaters," said Lena mildly.

At once, all eyes were on her.

"Friends of yours?" said a wizard called Podmore, who was sitting next to Shacklebolt, almost accusingly.

"Not exactly," replied Lena, calmly meeting his gaze, "but as I actually know them, I think I'm a little more qualified to ascertain whether or not they're potential Death Eaters." She looked directly at Dumbledore. "But I can think of a few of my former classmates who would eagerly be recruited."

Dumbledore gave her a small nod. "I have been doing my best to stay informed of Bulstrode, Murton, Runcorn and Warrington's... situations. And Tara Selwyn, of course, since her release from Azkaban last December."

"Are there any relatives of the incarcerated Death Eaters that we haven't mentioned?" asked Emmeline Vance, a middle-aged witch who had been a member of the Order during the first war.

There was a short pause as everyone considered this.

Snape broke the brief silence. "Well, there is Alexander Travers' niece, Lenora–" his dark eyes fell upon Lena, "– but we don't have to worry about her, do we?"

Out of the corner of her eye, Lena could see Remus' features forming a snarl, and quickly laid her hand on his to stop him from snapping at Snape. At the same time, Dumbledore said quietly, "Thank you, Severus." The warning in his tone was unmistakeable, and Snape bowed his head.

"I believe the subject of potential recruitments has been discussed long – and thoroughly – enough for this evening," continued Dumbledore. "Of course, we have only been considering the human possibilities. There are many other creatures that would make natural allies to Voldemort. Our friend Rubeus Hagrid has already set off to investigate the possible recruitment of such a species, accompanied by Madame Olympe Maxime, who has graciously offered to assist the Order in whatever way she can. Which reminds me, there are several other members who are absent tonight. I asked Arabella Figg to remain at her residence tonight so she can supervise Harry Potter's return to his home for the summer." He nodded at Arthur Weasley. "We will also be joined by two other members of Arthur's family in future meetings – his wife, Molly, and their eldest son, Bill. Their second son, Charlie, will also be helping the Order from his position in Romania."

Lena had vague memories of the two oldest Weasley boys from her early years at Hogwarts. As far as she could recall, they had both been exceptionally capable wizards, and a lot less irritating than Percy.

'Merlin,' she thought, 'I hope he won't be joining too.'

Dumbledore returned to the topic of other creatures with whom Voldemort might wish to form an alliance. Remus' discomfort was practically tangible as the subject of werewolves was brought up, but she appreciated that most of the Order did their best to not let their gazes linger on him too long. There were a few sceptical looks as Dumbledore voiced his concern about Dementors, but Lena nodded in agreement with him. No doubt Voldemort had more to offer them than anyone else.

"And lastly," said Dumbledore, about one hour after the meeting had begun, "there is something in the Department of Mysteries that Voldemort is searching for. Something he believes that will help him win this coming war, which he didn't have last time. I'm afraid that is the only information I can give you on the item for the time being."

The Orders' members exchanged looks of curiosity. Lena raised an eyebrow as she scrutinised the expression Dumbledore was wearing. She knew it well. It was the one that said, 'I know about something hugely important, but I'm not going to share it with you right now'.

"Consequentially," he continued, "we will need to guard the Department's entrance, as I don't believe the Ministry's current security will be sufficient. Thus, we must establish a rotation for guard duty. And remember, our presence there will not be sanctioned by the Ministry, so you must keep yourself well hidden while you are there. Now, Emmeline, you will be on duty tomorrow night, followed by Sturgis, then Arthur, then Hestia..."

Lena couldn't help but notice that he didn't call out her, Remus and Sirius' names. Sirius' exclusion made sense, but she was less sure of her and Remus'. Once Dumbledore had finished announcing the roster for guard duty at the Department of Mysteries, he assigned other tasks such as supervising Harry in Little Whingeing – and once again, neither Remus nor Lena were given these duties.

After Dumbledore reiterated the importance of the Order and maintaining its secrecy, he finally said, "I believe that concludes our meeting for tonight."

As everyone stood and began to chat amongst themselves, Dumbledore called out, "Lena, a word?"

Lena inclined her head, and looked up at Remus, whose eyes were flicking between her and Dumbledore anxiously. She patted him on the arm.

"I'll see you upstairs," she told him with a reassuring smile, and quickly pecked his cheek.

Remus nodded, but still looked concerned as he left the kitchen with Sirius. Lena went over to Dumbledore, who had remained seated, and took the chair that Moody had vacated. She had a suspicion she was just about to find out her first mission for the Order.

A book that Lena had given him – The Real Maqlú: A History of Ancient Mesopotamian Magic – lay open on Remus' lap, but he had not absorbed a single sentence of it since he'd opened it ten minutes ago. His mind was too preoccupied with worrying about whatever she and Dumbledore were still discussing in the kitchen. It had been over half-an-hour since the meeting had ended.

For what must have been the twentieth time in the last few minutes, Remus' eyes flicked to the bedroom door, willing for Lena to walk through it and dispel him of his fears. He had many notions of what Dumbledore could be asking her to do, and all of them were exceedingly dangerous.

Sighing, he stretched his long legs out along their bed. Despite the dark, overhanging cloud of Voldemort's return, the last couple of weeks had been... well, good. He'd gotten one of his best friends back, and Lena had been coping surprisingly well, not distancing herself from him as he had thought she might. But now the Order was officially back in action, he knew things would change. Tonight had been indicative of that. Over the past year, he had gotten used to Lena being the centre of attention – the leader, even – in social situations, while he would usually be more of an observer, hesitant to contribute and keenly aware of his unfamiliarity with the subjects at hand. In the meeting, however, the tables had turned. Remus was back in his element, and Lena had been out of hers.

Her presence had made the air in the room almost thick with apprehension. All that some of them knew of Lena was whose daughter she was, and that she had been in Slytherin. A few had heard of the incident with Lenora Travers and Lena's suspected involvement – and if they didn't before, Snape's comment certainly would have alerted them – and Remus was fairly certain that Alastor Moody's magical blue eye had spent a great deal of time fixed upon her. But Minerva had greeted her warmly, and Arthur Weasley had given her a genuine smile. Remus just hoped the rest of the Order would come to see that Lena was only her parents' daughter in name.

About to turn his distracted attention back to the book, the door opened and Lena entered. Remus said nothing, but his eyes didn't leave her as she crossed the room and sat on the foot of the bed. She pulled her shoes off, then turned around to face him, sitting cross-legged. Remus drew his legs up so she could shuffle closer.

"Dumbledore wants me back on the continent," she said quietly. "He's asking me to set up a network among my... associates. To keep us aware of any presence Voldemort might try to establish there."

Remus nodded, relieved. He had been expecting worse. "Okay," he said, "when do we leave?"

Lena shook her head slightly. "It'll just be me going," she told him. "He wants you to stay here."

Remus blanched. He and Lena hadn't been apart for more than twenty-four hours since she'd shown him Astris' account of Hecate and the Orb, and he really didn't want to be separated from her now that Voldemort had returned. However, he could tell from Lena's resigned expression that she had no intention of arguing with Dumbledore over the point.

"I see," he said, a little hoarsely. "When are you leaving, then?"

"Tomorrow morning."

Remus tensed. "And how long do you expect to be away?"

"Three weeks, maybe four."

His stomach twisted. "There's a full moon on Wednesday," he said in a low voice. She hadn't missed a full moon with him since they'd started living together. She made them bearable.

Lena visibly swallowed. "I know. But now that we've fixed up that cellar next to the kitchen, you can transform here and Sirius will be with you."

"Last time I saw Sirius during a full moon, I tried to kill him," replied Remus bitterly.

"Last time, you had a lot of pent-up aggression because you had taken Wolfsbane the previous nine times," Lena reminded him. "So unless he intentionally tries to aggravate you, I think he'll be fine." She closed her eyes for a few seconds, then looked at him imploringly. "I don't want to be away from you, Remus," she said, taking his hands in her own. "But this is important work. And the Order needs as many members as it can get here, because this is where the immediate threat is."

"I know that, Lena," said Remus impatiently. "I have fought in a war before, remember?" He took a deep breath. "I just don't like the idea of you being by yourself."

Letting go of his hands, Lena shifted on to her knees. "And I would rather stay with you," she murmured, briefly cupping his cheek, before letting her hand drop. "But there's more to consider here than ourselves." She began to get off the bed. "Now, I need to start packing."

Just as she stood up, Remus' hands shot out and grabbed her hips, pulling her back down onto the bed. She opened her mouth to protest, but his lips were on hers before she could, his tongue searching for hers. Almost immediately, Lena's reluctance melted away, and she allowed him to push her back until she was lying across the bed. As Remus continued his invasion of her mouth, he started to unbutton her red and black flannel shirt. At the half-way point, Lena pushed his chest back slightly, breaking the kiss.

"If you're trying to convince me not to go," she whispered, "it's not going to work."

"I know," said Remus softly, finishing undoing her shirt and gently tracing the small curves of her breasts with his fingers. "I'm just trying to convince you to come back as soon as you can."

Lord Voldemort's eyes grazed over the contents of Severus Snape's bookshelves as his spy recounted what he had learned at the Order of the Phoenix's first meeting. It was the first time he had ever set foot in Severus' house. It was a dingy little place, and Voldemort couldn't help but think it suited the Hogwarts Potions Master well.

As Severus came to an end of his report, Voldemort slowly nodded.

"It will certainly make gaining entrance to the Hall of Prophecy more difficult," he murmured, more to himself than Severus. He considered the conundrum for a moment. "But perhaps we can use Dumbledore's guards to our advantage – particularly since they will receive no support from the Ministry."

"Yes, my Lord," said Severus quietly.

Voldemort turned around to look at him, his eyes slightly narrowing. There was something that Severus was yet to tell him; he could sense the reticence like it was radiating off him.

"What would you like to tell me, Severus?" It was not a question, but a command.

Severus' throat bobbed, before he responded, "There was another new member at the meeting, my Lord, who I did not mention before." His lips twitched, as if trying to prevent a grimace. "Lena Lestrange."

For a moment, the only sound Voldemort could hear was his suddenly increased heartbeat. Then rage threatened to burst of out him, but he just managed to contain it, so only a flicker of emotion passed across his face.

"Is that so?" he said softly, turning away from Severus and closing his eyes. "How..."

It took a second for his mouth to form the next word properly.

"... Disappointing."

Thursday 4 December, 1980:

The Death Eaters took their seats around the dining room table with little chatter amongst themselves, simply nodding at their leader, who already sat in his place at the head, and murmuring to him, "My Lord".

However, the relative quiet of the Lestrange house was suddenly disturbed by the sound of Bellatrix – who had not yet joined the meeting – roaring, "OUT!"

Voldemort masked his irritation and looked back over his shoulder. He knew who the recipient of Bellatrix's ire was, and would have been willing to wager a great deal that whatever her offence was, Lena's mother was overreacting. He strained his ears, and could just make out the sound of the small girl saying something back to Bellatrix, followed by a yelp.

Unthinkingly, Voldemort rose to his feet and all the Death Eaters stared at him, looking confused. He did his best to not look surprised at himself. He usually tried to not interfere with Bellatrix and Rodolphus' parenting, but it was getting more and more difficult to allow them to unjustly punish her – especially for behaviour that made her such a good pupil, like curiosity and determination.

Aware of all the eyes on him, he realised how odd it would look if he just resumed his seat without doing anything first. So, without excusing himself, he turned and left the dining room, searching for the mother and daughter. He found them at the staircase, Bellatrix standing at the bottom step, gripping her wand in her hand and watching Lena climb the stairs with a threatening expression.

"Bellatrix," he called out softly, startling her, "I trust you will be joining us for the meeting tonight?"

The woman bowed her head. "Of course, my Lord," she replied demurely. "I was just ensuring that there will be no further interruption tonight."

Voldemort glanced up. Lena had almost reached the next floor's landing, but had paused and was looking down through the banister's railings at him and Bellatrix.

"Good evening, Lena," he said to her.

She didn't respond for a few seconds, and when she did, her tone was almost belligerent. "Sir."

Bellatrix began to raise her wand. "Don't you dare be so insolent–"

Voldemort interrupted her, his voice still quiet, but firm. "That's enough, Bellatrix. Go through to the meeting. I will join you shortly."

Bellatrix looked like she wanted to protest, but muttered, "Yes, my Lord," and stalked off to the dining room.

Once they were alone, Voldemort beckoned to Lena. "Come down here."

She hesitated for a moment, then slowly descended the stairs. As she came closer, Voldemort noticed the large, red mark on her cheek. Evidently, her punishment this evening had been a slap.

"Why did she hit you?" he asked as she reached the second-bottom step.

"Because she's the worst."

He looked down at the defiant child, frowning. "You know that's not what I meant."

She held his gaze for a few seconds, then shifted it to her feet. "Because I was trying to get a book from the study, after she had already told me to go upstairs."

Voldemort held back a sigh. Even if he didn't have any experience in the matter, he suspected most parents would be thrilled if their four-year-old could read – and properly comprehend – the advanced books that Lena could. Yet Bellatrix and Rodolphus had never seemed remotely delighted by their daughter's extraordinary intelligence.

"Why do you need her?"

He blinked. Lena was once again looking at him boldly.

"What do you mean?"

"You said," she began, "the night you offered to give me lessons, that you didn't want me to kill my mother any time soon, because she's quite useful to you. But you have lots of other people, like Uncle Lucius and Great Uncle Antonin, so why do you need her?"

This time, Voldemort did sigh, and took a seat on the steps, gesturing for Lena to sit next to him.

"Lena," he said patiently, "you know that we are in a war. We are fighting to restore order, to have people like you receive the respect you deserve."

Lena cut in. "You mean Purebloods."

"Exactly," confirmed Voldemort, "and to regain that order, we need to eradicate the Mudbloods. That is our cause, and there is no one who believes in it more than your mother. Now, sometimes in war, we have to do things that are cruel or extreme to win, and I need people who aren't afraid to do them. And because of her loyalty, I know Bellatrix will get those things done. I can depend on her to do it, in a way I can rely on few others."

He watched Lena digest this information as she twisted her hair around her fingers. "But," she said at last, " you don't actually... like her, do you?"

Voldemort wasn't sure how to reply, because it wasn't something he had ever really considered. Other than her strategic value, would he really mourn the loss of Bellatrix? His gaze fell upon the mark on Lena's cheek, which was already beginning to bruise.

"Not really," he admitted to Lena. "Certainly not in the way I am..." He hesitated, before finishing, "... I am fond of you."

Lena immediately looked down at her lap, but Voldemort could still see her lips twisting into a small, pleased smile, and felt a strange rush of satisfaction.

They sat in silence for a few moments longer, until Lena stood up.

"I should head upstairs," she muttered, turning around. "They'll all be waiting for you."

She'd only gone up a few steps before an idea had formed in Voldemort's mind. "Or perhaps," he said, "you could join us for tonight's meeting." He stood and looked around at Lena, who had stopped her ascent. She turned back to him with a surprised expression.

"You're letting me come to the meeting?" she whispered, wide-eyed.

"As long as you promise not to be a distraction," he warned. "You are there only to listen and observe, do you understand?"

Lena nodded vigorously. "I promise!"

Voldemort allowed himself a smile, and gestured for her to follow him. "Then let us join the others."

Beaming, Lena practically skipped down the steps and, side-by-side, they set off to the dining room.

Harry's eyes flew open, and he bolted upright, breathing heavily. For a couple of seconds, he was still submerged in a whirlwind of emotions that weren't his. Once they had subsided, he grabbed his glasses off the bedside table, and looked around the darkened bedroom. It took a moment for him to remember that the school year had finished, and he was once again at 4 Privet Drive.

He rubbed his forehead. It was the first time since the night of the Third Task that his connection to Voldemort had done anything. But this had been completely different from previous times. Instead of seeing what Voldemort was doing at this very moment, Harry's dream had shown him a memory of the Dark wizard's.

'But why?' wondered Harry. 'How could I see something that happened almost fifteen years ago?' Closing his eyes, he tried to remember everything he'd seen. 'And felt,' he reminded himself. Now that he thought about it, there had been two layers of emotions to the dream: everything Voldemort had been feeling all those years ago as he spoke to the young Lena, and also what he had been feeling tonight, as he remembered the occasion.

Irritation. That was the first thing Voldemort had felt when he'd heard Bellatrix Lestrange shouting at Lena. And then, when he was sitting on the steps with the little girl...

Affection.

It made Harry's stomach twist. His parents' murderer, the man who'd ordered Cedric's death like the boy had been nothing more than an insect and had just tried to kill Harry for the third time, genuinely cared about Lena. And those feelings weren't just in the past, because Voldemort had been thinking of the memory with such an intensity...

'Anger?' thought Harry uncertainly. 'No, he wasn't angry. More...upset.'

It was such a bizarre idea. In fact, to Harry, it felt wrong to think of Voldemort as being unhappy about something. But the emotion had been so strong that the memory had permeated his sleep. So something must have just happened to make him that upset.

'Lena,' realised Harry. But what exactly had she done?

His mind whirring and body filled with a restless energy, Harry threw off his bed sheet and got up. He started to pace around the bedroom, which woke Hedwig up. She let out a soft hoot, and watched Harry balefully, annoyed at her rest being disturbed.

Harry glanced at her. "Aren't you supposed to be nocturnal?" he muttered distractedly.

Hedwig shot him an indignant look, and turned around on her perch so she was facing the other way. Harry barely noticed. His mind was preoccupied with Lena and Voldemort.

He would be lying if he said her lack of communication with him over the past couple of weeks didn't hurt. He knew she was aware of what had happened in the graveyard with Voldemort; he had heard Dumbledore say to Sirius that he would write to her and Remus. He assumed that the headmaster's letter had reached them, and had thought that Lena would try to contact him as soon as she could. He understood that the news of Voldemort's return would undoubtedly be a lot for her to take in, but he had thought she would at least send a small note to ask how he was, or arrange a meeting as soon as the holidays began. But he'd received nothing from her, and it had been kind of stressing him out, because a small voice at the back of his head had been telling him that the reason for her silence was that she had gone looking for Voldemort. But now he knew that Voldemort was upset with her, it seemed unlikely they had reunited.

'Maybe he did reach out to her,' thought Harry, 'and she refused to join him.'

Yes, that would explain why Voldemort had been so troubled, and hung up on that particular memory. And while that relieved Harry, he was still bothered that she hadn't said anything to him.

'So I'll write to her,' he decided. He went over to his trunk, looking for some parchment, ink and a quill. But just as he found the writing materials, he paused.

What if Lena's decision to not contact him was a matter of safety? Perhaps she was worried about a message being intercepted, or that she was being watched by Death Eaters, and that if she met in-person with him, she might lead them to him.

Harry sat down on the bed. If Lena had taught him anything over the past couple of years, it was that he needed to consider things more carefully before acting. There was a time for going with your first instinct, and also a time for properly analysing a situation. Now was one of the latter.

Sunday 6 August, 1995:

Even wearing her sunglasses, the hot sun still seemed bright to Lena as she walked through the crowded central square of Exarcheia, in downtown Athens. Muggle tourists milled around the area, taking snapshots and arguing with each other over maps. Lena was returning to the place Lustenberger had designated for her return Portkey to Zürich, after a successful meeting with a friend of Markellos'.

Her mission to set up a network of witches and wizards throughout Europe with connections to the magical 'underworld' was going very well, albeit slightly longer than she had hoped. However, there was a slight spring in Lena's step now, as it looked like she would be back in England no later than Tuesday. It was a great relief to think that she would be home before the next full moon. It had been awful being away from Remus during the last one.

Lena had been a little surprised by many of her associates' willingness to actively oppose Voldemort, particularly since most of them hadn't involved themselves in the previous war. She supposed that because he had actually returned after seemingly being destroyed made the threat of him somewhat greater, and there were concerns that this time his power might extend beyond Great Britain.

But not everyone was eager to join the network. Although it had been over three weeks ago, her first conversation with Valeriya since Voldemort's return was still fresh in her mind.

"Are you fucking stupid?"

Lena suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. "Valeriya–"

Valeriya continued as if Lena hadn't opened her mouth. "Because the only possible reasons for you to do something so stupendously dumb is that you're either an idiot or a lunatic, and while you might have a list of neuroses that would extend from here back to England, I'm pretty sure you do at least have the tiniest bit of control over your mental faculties, which means you have deliberately made the stupidest choice in your nineteen years of life – which really is quite a feat for you."

Crossing her arms as she leant back against the kitchen counter in the Swiss house, Lena raised an eyebrow. "Seriously? You think joining the Order of the Phoenix is a worse decision than picking up Hecate's Orb?"

Valeriya waved a hand dismissively. "You took that risk because you were trying to gain something – an unbelievable amount of power. Tell me, what exactly do you gain from joining Dumbledore's merry band, other than the wrath of Voldemort?"

"What would you have me do, Valeriya?" said Lena, frustrated. "Remove myself to a safe distance to watch the people I care most about fight a war, and not lift a finger to help them? Just continue about my own business as if nothing's happening?"

A visible tension spread throughout Valeriya. "Like me, you mean," she said in a quiet voice.

Lena unfolded her arms and rubbed her face tiredly. "I appreciate," she began, "that you don't share the same views on blood purity that practically everyone else in our family holds. But your apathy towards the whole matter is almost as dangerous. By staying on the sidelines, you are part of the problem – a problem that very nearly cost my best friend her life," she finished, the image of Maggie after being hit by a Blood Boiling Curse clear in her mind.

Valeriya stared at her. "You love Voldemort, Lena."

"Yes," said Lena simply.

"Then how," said Valeriya, running a hand through her curly hair, "can you not understand why I chose to not fight against my own family?"

"Because this is a fight where one side is right, and the other is wrong," replied Lena softly. "And if we can't make the decision to do good when it's this easy..." She trailed off, swallowing. "If I can't make that decision, then what hope do I have when I'm inevitably faced by a more difficult one?"

Perhaps they understood each other's reasons a little better now, but it wasn't enough for Valeriya to offer her help. It bothered Lena, but she couldn't waste time on trying to change the mind of one stubborn woman when there was so much to be done.

She turned into a street, and halfway along it came to a small bookshop. Entering it, she nodded at the ancient-looking woman who was perched on a stool behind the counter, and made her way to the narrow staircase at the other end of the shop. Reaching the top step, she looked around to see if there were any Muggles in the vicinity. Confirming there were not, she closed the door in front of her. With her hand still clutching the handle, she muttered, "Anoíxte tin pýli ", then opened the door again.

Only this time, it didn't reveal the same room of books that had been there before. Instead, Lena found herself at the top of another staircase, but one that was slightly wider and made of stone, which led down to a busy street full of wizards and witches going about their business.

This was O Drómos Anámesa Stous Drómous, better known outside Greece by its English name, 'The Road Between Roads'. It was the main street of Wizarding Athens, and the centre of the magical community in Greece.

Lena descended the stairs and headed up the busy street towards a Herbology store. The proprietor had a deal with Lustenberger to use the back of her shop for his incoming and outgoing Portkeys to Athens.

As she went inside the shop, Lena checked her watch. She still had twelve minutes before the Portkey was due to take her back to Switzerland, which gave her a brief amount of time to browse. She knew this particular store often had the newest species of magical plants before any of the ones in Britain, and wanted to let Maggie know what she'd seen next time they caught up.

While investigating a new sub-species of Fanged Geraniums, she sensed someone slowly coming towards her down the aisle. Before they had even opened their mouth, Lena had a pretty good idea of who it was.

"Lena, what a surprise to run into you here."

Rolling her eyes, Lena replied, "Theodora, if your being here is nothing more than a coincidence, I'll let this flower eat my finger." She turned to face the other witch. "What do you want?"

Theodora, pretending to inspect a small pot of Clawed Pinweed, said lightly, "Well, Lena, I've been hearing a lot of things lately – including whispers that an old friend of yours has returned."

Lena clenched her fists and refocused her gaze on the Geraniums. "And what," she replied quietly, "is the Orkístike's interest in Lord Voldemort?"

Theodora chuckled softly. "Oh, he's quite a fascinating character. But what we're really interested in is that you've been talking to a lot of people about him, wanting to know if they've heard anything. Yet you haven't paid us a visit."

Lena gave Theodora, who was watching her out of the corner of her eye, a withering look. "I thought I made it quite clear the last time we spoke that I have zero interest in establishing any kind of relationship with your cult," she said tersely.

"That," said Theodora, properly looking at Lena, "was before you were so eager to hear any information about your Dark Lord. I imagined that if we could prove useful to you in that manner, perhaps our offer of friendship might be reconsidered."

Pursing her lips, Lena tried to hide her uncertainty. She had decided after her conversation with Remus about Astris' story that even though she was still bound to the Orb, she wasn't going to let the Orkístike into her life. The last thing she needed was a group of witches and wizards fervently encouraging her to seek greater power and become some kind of self-appointed god. On the other hand, the cult clearly knew how to find out even the most private information, and her whole mission was to create a network that could alert the Order to any Voldemort-related activity on the continent.

But what would the Orkístike expect in return? Their murders of the Vettori family last Christmas showed they weren't afraid to take drastic action when they wanted to make a point. Evidently, they didn't want to make an enemy of Lena, but she imagined their patience would eventually run out. And she had already decided to fight one battle; she really didn't want another on her hands.

She was still unsure of how to respond when Theodora spoke again.

"Think about it, Lena," she murmured. "What harm could an alliance between us and your friends back home do? You would have nothing to lose – only gain."

Lena raised an eyebrow. "My friends back home include Albus Dumbledore. Do you really think he'd want to fight alongside a group whose entire philosophy is rooted in the Dark Arts?"

Theodora shrugged. "I couldn't care less what Albus Dumbledore wants." She cautiously reached a hand out to touch Lena's forearm. "I'm asking what you want."

Before Theodora's fingertips could brush her skin, Lena stepped out of reach. She stared at Theodora, starting to understand her offer a little more clearly.

"You want Voldemort eliminated because you see him as a threat," she said slowly. "He's more powerful than you realised."

"Powerful?" scoffed Theodora. "Please. Both you and I know that Horcruxes can be destroyed."

Lena didn't bother to ask how Theodora knew about Voldemort's Horcruxes. It was the sort of conclusion that anyone so immersed in the Dark Arts could come to quite naturally. But Lena could tell she was using her disdain to mask something else. Then it hit her.

"But he's still a threat," Lena thought aloud, "because of what he means to me."

A muscle twitched in Theodora's face. "I know," she began, "that you still feel beholden to him. But you don't need to be. Your bond with Hecate's Orb proves that there is so much more to you than simply being the protégé of Lord–" She broke off, spluttering as she clutched at her throat, her eyes starting to bulge.

Lena didn't remember at what point she had pulled out her wand, but it was now by her side, trained on the choking Theodora.

"There are certain things," she said calmly, "you really shouldn't concern yourself with. Because if you do, you're going to make me very fucking angry, and that's not going to end well for anyone. So this is the only warning I will give you: if you ever get the urge to stick your pretty little nose into my personal relationship with Lord Voldemort, don't."

She released the young woman from her magical hold, and Theodora doubled over, gasping for air.

"As for your proposal of an alliance," continued Lena, keeping her wand out, "I must decline it, and once again ask that you refrain from contacting me. And if you try to harm anyone I care about, I will make certain it is the last thing you ever do." She pushed past the still-recovering Theodora. It was almost time for her Portkey's departure.

"You are making a mistake, Lena," Theodora hoarsely called out to her.

Lena didn't respond. She was worried that if she stopped to think about it, she might realise she was.

4 Privet Drive was such an exceptionally ordinary-looking house that it was almost difficult to believe that one of its residents was such an extraordinary boy – one who Remus was looking forward to seeing again.

As their Disillusionment Charms started to wear off, he followed a wary Mad-Eye Moody into the darkened house, the other seven members of the Advance Guard close behind him, a few of them whispering excitedly among themselves. For some, it would be the first time they ever met the Boy Who Lived. Tonks was particularly enthusiastic; then again, she seemed to be enthusiastic about most things. Remus still couldn't quite believe she was Lena's cousin, a fact which he had only learned after the Order's first meeting. The two young women had very little in common. Tonks, he had discovered over the past month, was bubbly.

Lena was the antithesis of that.

Remus had to suppress a depressed sigh. Merlin, he missed her.

Mad-Eye led them through to the kitchen, and in the darkness Remus could just make out the old Auror gesturing for them all to gather around him.

"Right," he began in a gruff whisper, "it's a possibility that the Death Eaters could have someone watching the house, so we need to proceed with caution, vigilance and discretion–"

CRASH!

Everyone jumped and pointed their wands at the direction of the sound.

"Sorry," came Tonk's embarrassed voice. "I didn't notice the plate on the counter. I'll just..." She cleared her throat. "Reparo."

"Dammit, Tonks," hissed Mad-Eye, "how many time do I have to–"

"It's all right, Alastor," Kingsley Shacklebolt cut in. "If anyone was close enough to hear that, they probably would have seen the door opening and closing as we entered, and already know we're here."

"And Harry's probably coming to investigate now," added Remus. "I expect he'll be coming from upstairs, so perhaps we should..." He gestured to out of the kitchen and the nearby foot of the staircase.

The Advance Guard filed out of the kitchen. They had just assembled at the bottom of the steps when a figure appeared at the top. The outline was unmistakeably – at least, to Remus – Harry's, and he was holding his wand defensively out in front of him.

"Lower your wand, boy, before you take someone's eye out," growled Mad-Eye.

"Professor Moody?" said Harry uncertainly.

"I don't know so much about 'Professor'," said Mad-Eye, "never got round to much teaching, did I? Get down here, we want to see you properly."

Harry lowered his wand slightly, but he didn't move. Remus could hardly blame him – the majority of the time Harry had known Mad-Eye, the ex-Auror had in fact been a Death Eater in disguise.

"It's all right, Harry," said Remus, taking a step forward. "We've come to take you away."

"Remus?" said Harry, slightly disbelievingly.

"Why are we all standing in the dark?" asked Tonks. "Lumos."

At once, the hall was illuminated and Remus had his first proper look at Harry in several months.

"Ooh, he looks just like I thought he would," said Tonks excitedly. "Wotcher, Harry!"

"Yeah, I see what you mean, Remus," said Kingsley. "He looks exactly like James."

"Except the eyes," said Elphias Doge. "Lily's eyes."

"Are you quite sure it's him, Lupin?" questioned Mad-Eye. "It'd be a nice lookout if we bring back some Death Eater impersonating him. We ought to ask him something only the real Potter would know. Unless anyone brought any Veritaserum?"

"Harry, what form does your Patronus take?" asked Remus.

"A stag," said Harry nervously.

"That's him, Mad-Eye," said Remus.

Harry descended the stairs, stowing his wand in the back pocket of his jeans as he came.

"Don't put your wand there, boy!" roared Mad-Eye. "What if it ignited? Better wizards than you have lost buttocks, you know!"

"Who d'you know who's lost a buttock?" Tonks asked him interestedly.

"Never you mind, you just keep your wand out of your back pocket," growled Mad-Eye. "Elementary wand-safety, nobody bothers about it anymore." He stumped off towards the kitchen. "And I saw that," he added irritably, as Tonks rolled her eyes towards the ceiling.

Harry reached Remus as the others turned to follow Mad-Eye into the kitchen. Remus put a hand on his shoulder and looked closely at the boy. He seemed quite bewildered. Remus didn't blame him.

"How are you?" he asked Harry.

"Fine," replied Harry, but a flicker of something crossed his face. Remus wasn't quite sure what –disappointment? Anxiety? Frustration?

"Are you sure–" Remus began to ask, but was cut off by Harry.

"Lena's not with you?"

Remus blinked. Harry had definitely sounded anxious that time.

"She's abroad at the moment," said Remus carefully, "but she should be back in England soon. I'm sure the two of you have a lot to talk about."

An indecipherable noise escaped Harry, before he cleared his throat and muttered, "Yeah, maybe." Then he walked past Remus and joined the others in the kitchen. Remus stared after him, bemused.

Apparently, Harry was not fine.