PHOENIX ASCENDING II--

PHOENIX ASCENDING II-- RESIGNATIONS

Blaaaaaaaarrrp!

It was halfway between the mating call of a banshee and the death wail of a manticore. Sirius had never heard anything like it before in his life. He sat up straight as a rod in bed, just about ready to follow the manticore's lead and keel over himself. But the noise didn't stop there, it continued, searing its way into something supposedly adjacent to a melody. And that was if you stretched it.

Sirius got out of bed, wincing as he was serenaded by the noise. Opening the door gently, he tried to follow the horrendous sound through the house, praying that his eardrums would pull through and not burst before he got there. Stopping outside a deceitfully demure door, he reached out a tentative hand and pulled it open. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

The noise stopped in mid ear-splitting blaarp as Remus lowered a rusty out-of-tune trumpet from his lips, and turned to Sirius with a belligerent expression on his face. "Blowin' some notes," he said huskily, his face still locked in a grimace.

"Yeah? Well I'll blow you some if you don't shut the hell up," Sirius snapped irritably, the anger borne of being woken up at four AM by his friend's Louis Armstrong impression. A not-misplaced alarm seized his heart as he looked over to the tattered bed to find it covered in old Charlie Parker, Lester Young, and Billie Holiday records. When his eyes rested upon Remus's ratty trumpet case, he felt himself grow weak in the knees. "You don't even play the trumpet," he said slowly, wetting his lips dried from fear.

"I play the trumpet," Remus said, a low growl lodged in his throat.

"You can't quite call it a trumpet. It's more like a Chinese torture device." Sirius said blithely, flashing his friend a grin that wasn't returned.

Remus violently threw his rusty trumpet into the moth-eaten case. "What are you doing here?" he snapped.

Sirius took a step backwards, unaccustomed to Moony's sudden ferocity. "Sorry to break it to you, old chap, but I live here."

To his surprise, Remus broke into a huge drunken grin, "So he is gay."

Sirius took a threatening step forward, "Who is gay?"

"It was a joke, asshole," Remus spat, wiping his nose on the sleeve of his robes. "Joke? You know, ha ha. Funny."

"I'm rolling on the floor laughing," Sirius said dripping sarcasm, still trying desperately to defuse his volatile friend.

"Wash my mouth out with soap while you're at it, Black," Remus said bitterly, gathering up all of the jazz records on his bed. "You've always hated me, anyway."

Sirius's mind reeled as he tried to keep his anger in check and confusion at bay, "What are you talking about, Moony?"

"I'm not Moony," Remus replied, his gray eyes filled with malice.

It was then that Sirius finally understood. "Romulus."

----

"What the hell is he doing here?"

Remus looked up from the kitchen table to where Sirius stood in the doorway, his face white with anger. "You'll wake Harry and Ron," he said, turning away.

Sirius took a few angry steps into the kitchen, "As if your brother hasn't already with his damn Louis Armstrong impression! What the hell is he doing here?"

"I don't know," Remus replied, his voice dangerously level.

"I thought he was dead!" Sirius exploded furiously.

"Well I did too!" Remus lashed out, his calm facade finally shattering. "He disappeared off the face of the earth for fourteen years, it's not as if I've been expecting him, Sirius!"

"When did he show?" Sirius said, his face still dark with anger.

Remus sunk back into the kitchen chair, resigned. "About four hours ago, around midnight."

Sirius pulled up the second chair and took a seat, "Is he clean?"

"I don't know," Remus replied helplessly, opening his hands wide.

Sirius gave him a piercing look, "Do you have any of it in the house?"

Remus looked away before responding quietly. "In my trunk, for emergencies."

Sirius smiled bitterly, "Well if it goes missing..."

"It won't go missing." Remus turned to him fiercely. "For all we know, he could be gone tomorrow night. I doubt he'll stay long."

With poise borne of bluntness, Sirius smirked. "You're just saying that."

"I trust him," Remus said, his voice wavering slightly, betraying the lie.

"Like a boggart's ass I trust him," Sirius spat fervently. "And you trust him even less." Remus looked away, his stubborn silence betraying the truth in his friend's words. Refusing to respond, he turned his eyes to the window, where the crescent moon still hovered in the black night sky. "I'll take Harry and Ron to King's Cross toady," Sirius said, suddenly and abruptly changing the subject.

"What?" Remus looked away from the window, his face lined with worry.

"I'll take Harry and--"

"No," Remus waved his hand. "I heard you the first time."

"And?" Sirius pressed.

Remus shook his head in amazement, "Are you insane?"

"Nah," Sirius begrudged Remus a smile, before his face grew serious once again. "Who else is going to take them?"

"I would," Remus said, his face still confused.

"You can't," Sirius responded quickly.

"I appreciate the concern, Sirius," Remus said, getting up from his seat. "But considering you have an award on your head, I doubt that you taking Harry and Ron is the apt conclusion to this problem."

"You can't go," Sirius said fervently, leaning forward.

Remus's eyes narrowed suddenly, "What are you implying?"

"I'm implying that I won't stay here alone," Sirius replied.

"You wouldn't be alone," Remus said before laughing bitterly. "Or is that why you won't stay?"

"You can't leave him here alone," Sirius yelled, throwing all tact to the wind. "That's obvious!"

"It's my house," Remus yelled angrily. "I can leave him here if I want!"

"It's Vix's house!" Sirius bellowed. "And leaving me with him is almost as deadly as leaving him alone!"

Remus shook his head scornfully, "I could--"

"You could NOT bring him with you," Sirius growled, reading his friend's thoughts. "Are you insane?"

"It would be insane to let you take the boys to King's Cross!" Remus protested. "You're in hiding!"

"Its better than leaving him alone," Sirius spat.

Remus stood up, pushing his chair into the table so hard that it fell over. "It's better than letting you go kill yourself. I'll wake the boys, I'm going." Sirius for once had nothing to say, or maybe he just kept silent watching Remus storm out of the room and slam the door behind him.

----

Again, they loomed before him, the standing stones, stoic and unseeing. The icy wind nipped at his legs, biting through his school robes, which were unsuited to the midwinter chill. Harry shivered, and waited. He did not have to wait long. Like specters half visible, they emerged from under the shadows of the monoliths, their cloaks rustling on the frozen turf.

....Oh god, he's dead... dead... dead...

The dementors closed in once more, their breaths draining him of every ounce of soul, wrenching at his heart, tearing him inside out. Again, he fell to his knees, and once more a single black robed figure stepped out from the tourniquet of dementors and knelt next to Harry. The figure's hot breath scalded his cheek, his harsh tone cutting through the frigid air like a whip. "I am the Alpha and the Omega, the Lord of all names, and when I come, my Kingdom will know no end." The figure gave a soft chuckle, and ever so slowly, drew back his hood... Lord Voldemort laughed, his high pitched voice carrying through the monoliths over the frozen plane, borne by the frigid wind. Yet somehow, it never strayed from the hole in Harry's heart.

"Harry!" He awoke with a start, one hand gripping his scar, and the other wrapped tightly into his bedcovers, the high merciless laugh still echoing in his ears. Professor Lupin stood over him, his hand on the light switch, "Its time to go to King's Cross."

Harry took a deep breath, steadying himself. It was only a dream. It was always a dream.

----

Harry was just fitting his trunk into the luggage rack, when he heard the compartment door open and slam close.

"I heard you were staying with the werewolf, Potter," sneered a sardonic drawl he knew all too well.

"So?" Harry turned around; trying to keep his voice level when faced with the slick smile of Draco Malfoy.

"Sometime then I think it's sad you don't have any family," the blonde replied suavely, his smile never wavering. "Then I remember who I'm pitying."

"Very funny, Malfoy," Harry sneered, closing the luggage rack a little too hard.

"What next? Your girlfriend's a vampire?" Malfoy said, his flickering gray eyes radiating nothing but malice. "Oh I forgot, you're dating that buck-toothed mudblood." Hermione blushed and lowered her head in shame.

Harry gritted his teeth; "I am not dating Hermione."

"Who would?" Draco's silvery blonde hair flashed in the morning sunlight. "Except for half-blind apes of Quiddich stars who can even speak decent English."

"Take that back, Malfoy," Harry said quietly, feeling his fists clench in anger.

"Oh?" Malfoy taunted, delighted to have touched a nerve. "All buddy-buddy with Viktor Krum now?"

"He's more of a descent person than you can ever hope to be," Harry replied, trying to ignore Draco's maddening stare.

"And what about Diggory? Was he a descent person?" Draco sneered quietly.

Harry froze, staring into Draco's cold fish eyes, as a memory too often repressed rose to the surface of his mind: a darkened graveyard, a harsh voice calling out the words Avada Kedrava and a then, suddenly body falling, dead before it landed, spread-eagled in the grass.... With a roar Harry threw himself on to Malfoy, knocking him to the ground. Maybe it was the shock of Harry doing something so incredibly stupid, but Malfoy didn't cry out or reach for his wand. Instead, he sat up and grabbed a fistful of Harry's hair, pulling him down beside him and knocking out a pane of window glass in the process. Harry raised his fist, about to slam it into Malfoy's jaw when the door was jerked opened and both of them rolled out into the hallway. "Is there a problem?" The little witch that sold refreshments was standing over them with an expression of icy fury on her face.

"He started it," Ron blurted out, automatically pointing at Malfoy who was pulling himself to his feet with as much dignity as was possible under the circumstances.

"Potter attacked me," Malfoy said coolly as he picked glass fragments off of the sleeve of his robes.

"He was provoked!" Ron persisted, his face flushing red in anger.

"Shut your mouth, Weasley," Malfoy sneered, his tone dripping with condescending disgust.

The little witch threw up her hands in anger. "That's enough out of all of you! Never in all my years... Potter, Malfoy, with me. Professor Dumbledore will have to deal with this."

"So they haven't fired him yet?" Draco sneered, his blonde hair mussed and falling into his eyes.

"That's enough!" The little witch snapped, clucking her tongue and viscously motioning them towards the front of the train.

----

Taking one last apprehensive look at the piece of black plastic Gabriel raised it to his ear. "Hello?" he said tentatively.

"Hello," a voice said on the other end, nearly jarring him out of his senses. So the cell-phone did work after all. "Look, I need to get in contact with Remus Lupin. I saw your article in the Daily Prophet and thought you might know how."

Gabriel gave an apprehensive glance towards Will and Rita Skeeter, who looked just about to wet her pants in excitement. Not wanting to be the cause of any new scoops, he stepped out of the office, slamming the door behind him. "Mr. Lupin's whereabouts are confidential."

"I'm a personal friend," the woman insisted.

Like hell you are, Gabriel thought to himself. They got at least 12 calls a day like this, though most were women claiming to be long-lost cousins or aunts or sisters or lovers of Gilderoy Lockhart, hoping to get his room number at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Canning protocol he decided to be rude. Technically he wasn't working for the Prophet anymore so Ptlomey Papscrew, executive editor, could kiss his ass. "So?"

"You don't believe me," she said.

"Bravo," Gabriel sneered drolly, the weight of his Uncle's death and his annoyance with this woman settling itself on top of his shoulders. The last thing in the world he wanted to do right now was deal with her.

"I have to talk to Remus-- you don't understand," she said, almost screaming in frustration. "What can I say to you to prove that I know him?"

"If you're such a close friend," Gabriel said with growing contempt. "Why don't you have any address?"

"After your article he's not going to be at Rivermede Road!" she snapped in reply. Then her tone changed, she sounded relieved, almost smug "Rivermede Road..."

"What about it?" Gabriel sighed.

"The deed is in my name," she replied, smirking through the phone. "Su Vix, you can check it."

Gabriel couldn't help himself. "Your name is Vix?"

"Get your mind out of the gutter," she snapped angrily. "Look, can you get me his address before my phone bill bankrupts me?"

"I don't have it," Gabriel replied honestly, he hadn't seen Remus Lupin since he had written his article.

She gave a frustrated growl, "Well hon, do you know someone who would?"

"Dumbledore," he said on first impulse.

"Good," she snapped. "You're taking me to him."

He gave a blank stare of horror at the cellphone, "What?"

"I'm coming into London Heathrow tonight in gate B4 at 10:14 P.M., pick me up there."

"Wait--" Gabriel began, feeling somewhat shell-shocked.

"10:14," she repeated as the line went dead.

It was then he realized that he had no idea what he had gotten himself into.

----

"Where's Hagrid?"

"Eh?" Ron turned in the general direction of Hermione, trying to find her in the mad rush of students swarming off of the Hogwarts Express and into the Hogsmeade station.

"Where's Hagrid?" She repeated, yelling into his ear. "He's not with the first years."

"Ow," Ron pushed her away, rubbing his ear. "There's no need to yell."

"Sorry," she said, lowering her voice a touch. Ron looked up, and sure enough, Hermione was right, the first years were being led away not by Hagrid, but a figure much smaller and impossible to distinguish in the crowd of students.

"Dunno," he replied, "Maybe he's up at the castle."

"Maybe..." Hermione said, sounding less than certain.

Ron rolled his eyes as he opened the door to one of the horseless carriages, "I'm sure he's fine, Hermione," he said with a long suffering sigh.

"I hope so," she said nervously, stepping into the carriage.

"You worry too much," he said mater-of-factly, bounding in beside her.

"I do not," she snorted huffily, scooting away from him.

"Ron! Hermione!" Hermione rolled her eyes obviously as Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown climbed into their carriage. With a groan, it began to move away from the station and up towards the castle. "Is it true?"

"Is what true?" Ron asked as he slammed the swinging door shut.

"Everything!" Lavender said, her eyes as wide as saucers in anticipation. She reached into the pocket of her robes and pulled out a newspaper clipping: Gabriel's article. "About Cedric and Professor Lupin and Sirius Black and Professor Dumbledore and Peter Pettigrew and Harry and You and--"

"I think you should ask Harry," Hermione said stuffily.

"Yeah it's true," replied Ron, shooting her a look.

"Oh!" Lavender began, giggling softly. "I think it was ever so brave--"

Ron blushed, looking down at his feet, "Well it did hurt allot when I broke my leg, but somehow I pulled through--"

"When Harry fought You-Know-Who!" Lavender continued, totally oblivious to Ron's downcast expression.

Parvati gave a dreamy sigh, "Where is Harry?"

"He was fighting with Malfoy," Ron said sulkily, still smarting from Lavender's rejection. "They're taking him to Dumbledore."

Parvati and Lavender gave simultaneous gasps. "That's terribly brave of him," Lavender sighed.

"I hope they don't expel him," Parvati threw in dreamily.

Lavender rolled her eyes, "They wouldn't expel him, he's... Harry Potter." She tittered softly, his very name bringing a smile to her face.

Parvati shrugged, "No, I suppose not, but I hope they don't expel Draco."

"He's the only worthwhile thing to look at during Potions," Lavender breathed dreamily.

"Excuse me?" Ron said as he exchanged a pained look with Hermione.

"Of course you wouldn't understand," Parvati said, as if this explained everything. "You're a guy."

"Honestly!" Lavender snapped. "What do you expect me to look at, Snape?"

"Oh, he's so sexy!" Parvati giggled sarcastically.

"Gag me," Lavender added as the girls exploded in laughter.

"I never thought he was all that bad," Hermione said earnestly as Lavender and Parvati gaped simultaneously in disgust. "I'm just kidding..."

"Thank God!" Parvati said fervently as the carriage rolled to a halt in front of the stone stairway leading up to the great hall.

They clambered out of the carriage and were about to make their way up the stairs to where the feast awaited steaming hot when Ron felt a hand grab his shoulder, "Hagrid's gone."

He turned around to see Fred and George giving him the same serious looks. Because a George without a grin is a dangerous George indeed, Ron edged out of his grasp. "Yeah..." he said, glancing from twin to twin nervously, "He wasn't at the Hogsmeade station."

"No, he's gone for good," Fred said without so much as a single joke. "We have a new teacher and everything."

"Who?" said Hermione, coming up from behind Ron.

"That would take all the fun out of it. We promised not to tell." George replied, giving her an evil smirk.

"Since when have you kept your promises?" Ron protested.

"You'll find out at the feast anyway," Fred added, ignoring him as they disappeared into the crowd of swarming students.

Ron stared at the twins retreating backs, "I don't believe them," he said flatly.

Hermione just shrugged, "Only one way to find out," she said, gesturing towards the hall.

Pushing their was through the crowd, Hermione and Ron bypassed a group of excited second years clustering around a curly-haired boy with pet sprite on a leash. Ron cringed, the sprite looked too much like a Cornish pixie for his comfort and he remembered his last encounter with the "flighty little buggers" all too well.

Perhaps trying to make up for the nightmares of the Triwizard tournament, Dumbledore had truly outdone himself this year. The great hall was draped with tapestries red, green, yellow, and blue (for each of the four houses) and in addittion to the usual flowers, feathers, and frills each of the long tables was adorned with tall candles, each levitating a few inches off the tablecloths.

Ron's eyes turned immediately to the staff table, where he saw, for once in their lives Fred and George were being earnest. "Hagrid's replacement! Hermione, I can't believe they didn't tell me, it's Charlie!"

"Ron," Hermione tugged on his sleeve, obviously not listening to a single word he was saying. "Ron it's Snape."

"Not again, Hermione," he sighed.

"No-- not that," she said urgently. "He's gone, Ron."

----

If there was one word to personify the deep-down essence of London Heathrow, it would be gray. The doldrum industrial gray carpet clashed beautifully with the dark gray walls while the infrequent windows opened up into chronic gray skies. One thousand gray suits with their gray leather briefcases passed through these halls everyday, faceless and unseeing, lost in a world where the drabness never stopped and the grayness permeated all.

Gabriel didn't know why he had shown up. Maybe it was for lack of anything better to do, maybe it was because of some loyalty to Remus Lupin, hitherto unknown to him, or maybe it was just the age-old curiosity. Which, by the by, had killed the cat.

But he knew, without admitting it to himself, that coming to Heathrow was nothing more than a diversion. Gabriel had to keep his thoughts from drifting to his uncle, Cornelius Fudge. Fudge was an enigma to him, and as much as Gabriel refused to admit it, the only family he had ever really known. Yet, in spite of raising him, caring for him, Fudge had loathed Gabriel beyond anyone else in the world. As a small child, he had wondered what he had been doing wrong, but as he grew older, as he learned the story of his parent's deaths, he supposed Fudge's dislike brewed from his father's legacy. Lucifer's final gift to his son. And now... Cornelius Fudge was dead. He wasn't really sad, the love between them had been minimal at its best, but a dull ache of disbelief had captured his insides, an ache he was desperately trying to ignore.

Standing in the recesses of the hallway, halfway between darkness and shadow, his eyes were fixed on the window, watching the 10:00 Concorde from Hong Kong pull into the gate, the lights of signal flares bouncing off its aluminum underbelly. A bright eyed stewardess chirped something into the intercom about a 69 pound discount on a one-way ticket to Darkest Peru before opening the gate's doors and freeing the passengers.

They began to file out, a trickle at first, and then in a torrent. Grandparents hugged much missed children, families of tourists dragged half-asleep children, and of course the businessmen followed, all lugging laptop computers. Trying to fight his way though the sudden melee of people, Gabriel realized with a sinking sensation that he had no idea what Vix looked like. Feeling like a complete idiot, he watched the moments, seconds, minutes, trickle by as the happy families bounced off and the businessmen scurried away, emptying the gate. He gave one last hopeful glance around, and then he saw her. She must have seen him too, because she crossed the gate towards him, a funny lopsided smile on her face, "Gabriel Cox?"

He blinked in surprise, "Vix Su?" If he expected anything out of Vix, She was the furthest thing from it he could have visualized. Asian, she couldn't have come past her shoulder. Vix was wearing a leather motorcycle jacket several sizes too big for her, which only seemed to make her seem smaller than she actually was. She smiled again, off center, as she pushed a strand of black hair out of her face. "I didn't think you'd come."

"Neither did I," he replied, still trying to take her all in as he reached out and shook her hand.

Reaching into the leather bag she had slung over her shoulder, Vix pulled out a dog-eared and horribly stained paper. "I'm not a wizard so I had to steal this, but I've been reading your article." She handed the Prophet over to him.

"Good to see someone has," he remarked snippily, taking the paper in his hand as she rezipped her bag.

"Why?" Vix looked up.

He shrugged, "There's been no change. Voldemort's captured Durmstang. Sirius Black is still in hiding, and the ministry insists that the Dark Lord can't be back--" he suddenly caught himself. "I'm boring you, you wanted to find Remus Lupin."

"No, its all right," Vix said softly. "I'll help if I can."

Gabriel laughed before he could stop himself, "You're a muggle."

She gave him a venomous look, "And you wizards are all pricks."

Gabriel decided to hold back the retort and swiftly changed subjects. "You want me to take you to Professor Lupin."

Vix smiled again, raising an eyebrow, "Professor?"

Gabriel narrowed his eyes, "I thought you knew him."

"I didn't know he was a teacher," she gave a small grin. "We didn't have time to learn details."

"What did you have time to do?" Gabriel said, his mind wandering a thousand different paths, each one more bizarre than the last.

"Escape a bunch of psychopathic killers," Vix replied, well aware that this aroused more questions than it answered. "But where can I find him?"

"We need to go to Hogwarts, that's in Scotland," Gabriel added for Vix's benefit. "If anyone knows where Lupin is, it's Professor Dumbledore. Normally I'd apperate or use floo powder, but since you're a muggle--"

Vix's eyes had suddenly grown wide with excitement, "Gabriel have you ever taken the train?"

"Er... yeah."

"I haven't," she positively bubbled. "What do you say?"

----

Harry gave Draco a belligerent glance as they were marched through the too-empty corridors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry by the formidable little witch from the Hogwarts Express. Turning into a long corridor he had seen only three times before, they halted in front of an immense stone gargoyle.

"Fizzing Whizbees," she snapped as the gargoyle opened its eyes lethargically and swung aside with a reluctant croak. Giving them a cold stare, the little witch motioned them up the winding staircase to the office above. "Albus? I'm here with Potter and Malfoy."

"Your owl arrived five minutes ago. I've already read all about it, Natasha," Dumbledore said, shooing her out, his blue eyes bleary and tired.

"Well I certainly hope that you take care of it, Albus," she said, giving a disapproving sigh as she stamped out the door.

Harry braced himself for the inevitable lecture as he watched Dumbledore cross quietly across the floor and sink down into his desk with the crunch of old knees. Looking up suddenly, the headmaster met Harry's questioning stare, and its gaze was so old and tired that Harry felt a lump of dread well up in the back of his throat. But as if he had only imagined it, the look was gone, replaced with all business. "Harry, Draco," he sighed, drumming his fingers on his desk in a preoccupied manner. "I'm very disappointed in you both." Harry could see Draco's simpering sneer out of the corner of his eye as he kept his own gaze firmly locked in the floor. "Especially after the events of this summer, the last thing we need at Hogwarts is infighting among our own students. United we stand and divided we fall," Dumbledore paused to take a breath. "And this is the time to show it."

"I'm sorry, sir," Malfoy said too quickly, the sides of his mouth twitching in a mocking smile. Dumbledore turned his gaze to Harry, waiting for him to speak.

Harry opened his mouth to echo Draco's apology, and then shut it firmly, remembering the reason he had jumped Malfoy in the first place. "I'm not."

Dumbledore simply raised an eyebrow, turning his head towards Harry. "You're not?"

"No, I'm not sir," Harry replied, hearing the paintings of Hogwart's former headmasters behind him hurridly whisper to each other in scandalized fury. "He insulted Cedric Diggory."

A flicker of… something passed over Dumbledore's face, whether guilt or sorrow, it was gone too quickly to categorize. "I hope, Draco," he said in a subdued tone. "That you live a life as descent as Cedric's." Draco said nothing, his gray eyes blazing in muted fury.

Dumbledore ignored this and turning to both boys he gave a rueful and very tired smile, "Well I can't keep you from the feast much longer and I daresay whatever morals I throw at you will go in one ear and out your nose so, you're dismissed." Draco shot a look of unchecked malice at Harry before storming out of door. Hesitantly, Harry made to follow when Dumbledore's voice called him back. "I've only had one other student refuse to apologize before."

"Who was it?" Harry said quietly, meeting his piercing blue gaze.

"Severus Snape."

Before Harry had a chance to respond, the door to Dumbledore's office flew open and a familiar hulking figure limped into the room, his wooden leg catching on the carpet. Harry instinctively took a step backwards as the glare of Mad-Eye Moody fell on him, the magical eye rolling back into his head as the normal one blinked shrewdly. It felt rather like being looked at under a microscope and Harry felt as if Moody could see all the way through him, see every thought as it formed in his brain, read every inkling inside his skull. From that moment on, Harry had no doubt as to why Moody had been the most feared auror in the Ministry of Magic. "So this is Potter?" he said hoarsely, turning his terrifying scarred visage to Dumbledore.

"Yes it's Potter," Dumbledore replied, getting out from behind the desk and crossing towards his old friend. "Harry this is Alastor Moody, our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

Harry could only nod, his voice seemed to have welled up in the back of his throat. "It's all right, Albus," Moody said gruffly. "He already knows me." He took a long slow glance at Harry and shook his head in an almost wistful fashion, "He knows me..."

"What is it, Alastor?" Dumbledore asked.

Moody's face darkened. "I'm resigning."

It was the first time Harry had ever seen Dumbledore look off balance, "What?"

Without so much as a glance at Harry, Moody continued. "Fudge is dead. He had LUCIFER written onto his chest in blood, I can't stay here teaching children how to kill boggarts. I've asked to take the case."

Dumbledore's eyes narrowed, "Don't you think its a little personal?"

"That's why I'm taking it," Moody spat bitterly. "It's personal."

"And whom do you suspect?" Dumbledore asked, motioning Moody to take a seat.

He remained standing, his face fixed into a scarred mask, "You know very well whom I suspect."

Dumbledore shook his head sadly, "Alastor, you can't think that--"

"You were the one that found the bodies, Albus." Moody said. "You were there, how can you deny this?"

Dumbledore's face contracted in confusion, "I never saw the bodies."

"You were there," Moody insisted, stamping his wooden leg on the ground. "You said that... Lucifer had killed her and that you had found them lying on the ground." He gave a bitter smirk, "Then you wished me Happy Christmas."

Saying nothing, Dumbledore began to pace about the room in deep thought, Moody watching him with confusion bordering on anger. Both of the men had seemed to have forgotten that Harry was even in the room, and he was about to edge towards the door when it swung open with a bang. "Professor Dumbledore, I was wondering--" The voice stopped dead when it saw Mad-Eye Moody.

"Come on in Gabriel," said Professor Dumbledore with a bitter smile. "We were just discussing you."

----

If you are ready… If you are prepared…

He was as prepared as he'd ever be.

Dumbledore had two potential enemies in his fight against the Dark Lord, the giants and the dementors.

Hagrid and Olympe Maxime were taking care of the giants, and the dementors were his. Severus Snape paced the confines of his room at Hogwarts, feeling, as always, that terrible sense of enclosure. This could very well be the last time he walked here, the last time his feet brushed these worn stones. His breath rose and fell with the crescendo of his heart as he laid his hand on the door handle. Good-bye room.

It was so final, and yet, what he had to do had not yet sunk to the depths of his psyche. It was as if he was a spectator on his own life, watching his husk of a body go about its business and perform the unthinkable. The insane.

It was so hard to be good. Especially when the right thing was to lock yourself up in a death trap and throw away the key. Turning around, Severus Snape took a long slow glance around the room before he shut the door behind him for the very last time.

Are you confused? Don't worry, you have every right to be, this ties all of my stories together so if you haven't read one… or another, you can go back and do it, or read my painless summaries below, or just give me the finger and take the A train off to read other things (if you take this route may I recommend rave's a shift). Here are the summaries for you lazy bums. If you care to review or read a paragraph of my ramblings just scroll down to the bottom.

THIRD CAMP: takes place directly after GoF, through long involved and excruciating plot, Harry and Ron go to live with Sirius and Remus who are driven out of their house by a mob of angry reporters a short time after. It turns out that Rita Skeeter broke her promise to Hermione and wrote a tell-all saying that Sirius and Dumbledore were in cahoots to take over the world and follow in Voldemort's footsteps. Sirius escapes (barely) when he is warned by Hermione and Viktor Krum (who fly in from Bulgaria). It looks like Dumbledore and Remus are going to be arrested until Gabriel Cox (Cornelius Fudge's nephew) writes an article for the Daily Prophet telling the events of PoA and GoF and that the wizarding world needs to band together to fight Voldemort. Fudge drafts a letter to Dumbledore about to make amends....

PAS DE DEUX: Takes place in the early 1970s, when Voldemort is making his rise to power. His first, and most loyal death eater is a serial murderer referred to as "Lucifer" after the angel of death. The wizarding world lives in constant fear of Lucifer who kills random people indiscriminately. Assigned to Lucifer's case is Chita Ramone, an auror who is also engaged to Alastor (Mad-Eye, though he's not Mad-Eye yet) Moody. Alastor's best friend is a man named Sejanus Cox, who teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts. Sejanus's fiancé is Liv Fudge, Cornelius Fudge's ballet dancer sister. At the end, Sejanus kills Chita in self-defense, who attacks him, thinking he is Lucifer. Chita's death drives Alastor insane, and he begins to hunt Sejanus down with a manic passion. It turns out that Liv is Lucifer, and after leaving her son (Gabriel Cox of the Third Camp) with Cornelius, she tries to go turn herself in, because Sejanus is being held by the Ministry as Lucifer. Voldemort gets to her first and kills her, framing Sejanus by using his wand. Alastor finds the bodies and watches in horror as Sejanus is sent to Azkaban. Ten years later, Alastor manages to get inside the prison and puts a knife through the back of his one time friend. To the present day everyone, Moody included, believes that Sejanus is Lucifer.

CHINA DOLL: Basically what happens in Sirius and Remus go to Hong Kong and meet a girl named Vix. And like she said, run away from a bunch of psychopathic mobsters (As you can see I'm tired of summarizing).

No I'm not dead! My internet just crashed, I just had a temporary bout of writer's block, but now that I have some semblance of a plot worked out all's well on the western front. Thanks first and foremost to Rowena for beta-ing me, and then to everyone that reviewed (beth, Trinity Day (thanks for braving the mopy plot reading Pas De Deux too) Silimay, rave (where is part two of three leaves left!, I'm dying here!!!), Katie Bell (got the quote from the Usual Suspects of all places…), KNA, NS, the most lovely sorceress, clara200, moon (will we ever see a call of the wild part duex?), viktorsgurl (of course viktor will be back!! I couldn't just let hermione hanging there, could I?), crazy poet (cool site, by the by), alicia/sue spinnet, aragog, and last but definatly not least, Leef (I've missed you!)). Please read and review everyone and so long, fare-thee-well, pip pip cheerio, I'll be back soon.