Viktor Krum hit the cold stone floor of Hogwart's entry hall with a slight woosh of air. Standing up and cricking his neck he breathed a sigh of relief. For the first time that morning, customs had let him apperate through. Security was particularly ti

A/N- Charlie Parker is a jazz saxophonist for those of you who don't know…

PHOENIX ASCENDING IV-- ACROSS THE SEA OF SAND

"Remus."

"Vix," he said, choking back everything at once; surprise, shock, anger, abandonment, pain, rage, love, loneliness, and expressing it in one three letter word as she buried her head next to his own. For the first time in two years, he smelt the almost tangy scent if her hair, coffee and cheap shampoo mixed with the slightest twinge of wood smoke. Feeling a sudden wetness on his shoulder, he realized that Vix was crying. He drew her ever closer, squeezing her arm, hardly believing that it was she, he was here, this was real.

"Ahem," Remus turned around at the sound of the new voice. Vix jerked her head off his shoulder and looked up, furtively wiping the tears off her face and smearing her mascara in the process. Reality was slowly becoming more and more like a sadistic dream. Standing before Remus with an almost bemused expression on his face was Albus Dumbledore, and behind him all 900-odd Hogwarts students, staff, and specters, faces painted in varying degrees of shock and surprise.

"Albus!" A huffing Minerva McGonagall walked up, her lips pursed in disapproval. Doing a double take, Remus noticed that her robes were covered in a rather lumpy gray gruel.

Seeing the state of McGonagall's robes, Vix bit her lip, realizing that her jump over the staff table hadn't been as smooth as she had previously hoped. "Sorry," she smirked, trying to hold in the smile.

McGonagall gave her a look of pure death before turning to Dumbledore. "What is the meaning of this?" As if to emphasize her point, the staff table gave a sickening crack and then collapsed, spraying the entire faculty with gruel.

What followed can only be described as an uncomfortable silence.

"Maybe you two had better come with me," Dumbledore finally said, his expression in his eyes unreadable behind his half-moon lenses. Remus hadn't heard those words since the days when Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs roamed free, the time when Sirius's scrapes were unavoidable and James's latest devilish prank was right around the corner. Dumbledore began to walk up towards the door, his movement jerking Remus back out of nostalgia lane. Feeling rather sheepish, Remus followed him, Vix at his side. All 900 pairs of eyes in the room were fixed on their every breath, their every movement. All in all, it was most unnerving. Dumbledore suddenly stopped and turned around in midstride, a mischievous smile on his face. "By the way, this is Professor Lupin."

They exited amid a tumult of applause. Sirius would have been proud.

----

Sirius wasn't feeling cheerful enough to be proud, in fact, he was nothing short of royally pissed off. He was parked on one end of Remus's cheerful gingham couch, eyes focused maniacally on the other side, where Romulus sat, staring back. In Romulus's hand was a somewhat dog-eared Charlie Parker album. Balanced precariously between them, was a record player.

It had all begun thirty minutes earlier when Romulus had stumbled down the stairs with his Charlie Parker album in hand. Sirius, who had been staring mopily at the wall, had seen what he was holding, sensed the danger and grabbed the record player off its shelf with a terse, "No." Romulus had then proceeded to park himself on the couch as far away from Sirius as possible and stare at him angrily until he gave way. So far, neither of them had cracked.

"Don't you dare," Sirius hissed warningly as Romulus's hand strayed towards the record player.

"You're not my mother, Black," Romulus growled back, eyes never wavering from Sirius's own.

"Did you ever meet Severus Snape, Lupin?" Sirius asked, leaning in towards Romulus as he shook his head. "No? Severus Snape pissed me off once. Do you know what I did to him?" He eyed Romulus's fingers, straying ever closer towards the record player, "I broke every bone in his left hand. He had to have it completely regrown."

Romulus gave a hollow sounding laugh, "You're really afraid of me."

Sirius looked up, his brows contracting. "What?"

"I'm smarter than you are," Romulus said, smirking to himself. "And you're afraid of me."

"Then why don't you just put the record on?" Sirius snapped, looking back up into Romulus's haggard face. "If I'm quaking in my boots?"

Romulus didn't respond directly, his face taking on an almost hazy look. "Thirteen years in Azkaban. You know why you didn't loose it like the others? There was nothing to loose, only dead air and empty violence--"

Sirius was about to launch himself across the couch when two things happened. First, an owl flew through the open window, hooting madly and dropping a letter on Sirius's head with a satisfied cluck. Secondly, Romulus grabbed the record player, smacked his album into it and jammed the needle onto the record wildly, almost scratching it in the process. He began to search for the on button as Sirius unfolded his letter unconcernedly and began to read. A sense of disbelief crept over him as his eyes traveled over the single sentence again, and again.

Vix is here --Albus

"We're going to Hogwarts," Sirius remarked nonchalantly as Romulus jammed his finger into the ON button triumphantly. Nothing happened. "Smarter than me, eh?" Sirius said smugly as he unfurled his hand to reveal a pair of batteries.

----

Viktor Krum hit the cold stone floor of Hogwarts entry hall with a slight swoosh of air. Standing up and cracking his neck, he breathed a sigh of relief. Normally appariton in the Hogwarts grounds was impossible, but Dumbledore let the down the wards for a short 24 hours at the start of term each year for the conveyance of arriving faculty. After being held up in British Customs, Viktor was afraid he'd miss the 24 hour mark. Security was particularly tight on any persons coming in from the Bulgarian sector, due to the recent dark activity in the country. At first, the customs agents had flat out refused to believe that he was Viktor Krum and he had been held in their scummy little office overnight so that his passport could be verified, his bags searched, and his Quiddich gear mysteriously confiscated. All in all, it had not been a night to remember.

Sighing, Viktor shouldered his significantly lightened luggage and took a few steps forward before he realized he had no idea where he was going. To his relief, a tall severe figure with her crisp black hair pulled tightly into a bun walked out of a door on his left and gave him a smile. "Mr. Krum," she said, extending her hand. He awkwardly shook it, due to the luggage slung over his back. "I am Minerva McGonagall, deputy headmistress. You may remember me from last year."

"Yes, I am sorry," he began after a slight pause. "I got laid over in Customs."

Professor McGonagall scowled disapprovingly, "Apparition travel is so awkward these days, with all the delays and crashes. I myself just rent a broom." Viktor nodded, inwardly cringing. There was no way he would ever ride a broom from Bulgaria to England again. Shaking her head, McGonagall continued. "Well you have first period free thankfully, that's where everyone is now, so how about I take you up to Professor Dumbledore? He'll want to talk to you before you get started."

Viktor nodded, and let her lead him up countless staircases and down winding corridors until he was thoroughly lost and figured he would never find his way out again, let alone to the Potions classroom. Finally, Professor McGonagall arrived in front of a large stone gargoyle, which opened its eyes lazily to gaze at her in an offended manner. "He's in a meeting right now," the gargoyle said smugly. "He won't want to see you."

"I think I know a little more about Professor Dumbledore than you do, Grack," Professor McGonagall sniffed, eyes narrowing at the gargoyle.

Grack the Gargoyle's stony lips twisted into a cheeky grin, "You wanna bet on that? You don't know what he does on Saturday nights, and believe me, it aint pretty."

"Never mind that," McGonagall said prissily, giving the gargoyle a positively condescending look. "Fizzing Whizzbees."

"Never liked them," Grack muttered belligerently as he swung open on its hinges, revealing a long winding staircase with a wooden door at the top.

"Go on up, dear," McGonagall gave Viktor a slight push towards the stairs. Halfway there, he realized that she was staying down at the bottom. His heart gave an involuntary thump as he reached the wooden door, and raised his hand to knock. Taking a deep breath he did, and the door swung open ever so slowly. Viktor took a tentative step into the office, eyeing Dumbledore and the two wizards sitting with him warily.

"Professor," he began, feeling a need to break the uncomfortable silence, only provoked by the disapproving glares of Hogwarts former headmasters and mistresses. "I'm sorry I am late. I vas detained Customs. If this is a bad time..."

Dumbledore stood up, a broad smile stretching across his wrinkled face as he extended his hand. "Not at all, Viktor. I'm glad to see you've arrived so safely." He gestured to an empty chair. "Please, join us. I believe you've met Remus Lupin?" Dumbledore nodded towards one of the two other wizards, whom Viktor recognized vaguely as a friend of Hermione's. "And this is Vix Su," Dumbledore continued pointing at the other person, a slight Asian woman with mascara smudged down her cheek. "Vix is visiting us from Hong Kong." Viktor knew nothing of Hong Kong other than that their Quiddich team had come in last in the Eastern Asia division for twenty-two straight seasons, but he gave Vix a curt nod anyway. "Vix, this is Viktor Krum, our new potions master here at Hogwarts."

Lupin looked up abruptly, staring from Viktor to Dumbledore in shock. "What about Snape?"

"That is what I wanted to discuss," Dumbledore said heavily, reaching deep within his desk and pulling out a newspaper. He unfurled it onto the tabletop so that the headline was visible. "Severus Snape just turned himself in for the murder of Cornelius Fudge."

"Snape killed Cornelius Fudge--" Lupin interjected, his face looking even more gray than Viktor remembered.

"Of course he didn't," Dumbledore replied shortly. "He turned himself in on my orders. I have sent Hagrid and Olympe Maxime to make contact with the giants in their hideaway, and hopefully dissuade them from joining Voldemort, if not joining us. The dementors will not be so pliable. The question is not if they will join Voldemort, but when. And when they do, I need to know."

"Snape is your spy in Azkaban," Lupin said in amazement, shaking his head. "And he agreed to this?"

"He agreed," Dumbledore said heavily, sinking back into his chair. "He did what he had to do."

"Mad-Eye Moody doesn't buy it," a new voice cut in, and turning around Viktor saw Gabriel Cox, the Daily Prophet reporter who had interviewed Harry this last summer step into the room. "Professor McGonagall said you wanted to see me before I left, sir."

"So I did, Gabriel, so I did," Dumbledore sighed, drumming his fingers in his desk. He rubbed his temples wearily then looked directly at the reporter. "What's all this about Alastor Moody?"

"He threatened me last night, after you left with Vix," Gabriel said slowly, trying to sound nonchalant, but failing miserably. "Like father, like son is what he said."

"What's this?" Vix looked straight at Gabriel, who stayed silent a long time before replying.

"My father was Mad-Eye Moody's best friend, but it turned out he was secretly working for Lord Voldemort and was the murderer of twenty-six people. He killed Moody's wife trying to escape capture, and later when he was apprehended, he killed my mother when she came to visit him. Moody was the one who found her body. Cornelius Fudge, the man that was just murdered is-- was my uncle, on my mother's side. He raised me while my father was in Azkaban. And he was found dead a few nights ago with the word LUCIFER written onto his chest in blood. Lucifer was what my father was known as when he killed those twenty-six people. So naturally I'm suspect. "

"Actually--" Dumbledore interrupted, holding up his index finger. "According to Alastor he didn't find your mother's body at all. He says I led him to it, but unless my memory is completely gone, I didn't see Liv's corpse until the funeral."

"I think it's more likely that Moody's memory is shaky," Gabriel sneered, an anger ingrained into every line of his face.

"Alastor Moody is no fool, Gabriel," Dumbledore said neutrally. "He's still the best auror the Ministry ever had."

"How can that be?" Lupin cut in, shaking his head slowly. "Supposing that both of you remember the incident correctly."

"I remember it vividly enough," Dumbledore replied, rubbing his temples again. "It was all over the papers."

"I wouldn't know," Gabriel said, his tone dark and dangerous.

"Remember at the end of last year," Viktor said, surprising even himself as he spoke up for the first time since he had arrived in the room. "Vhen Barty Crouch was discovered as Moody..."

"Go on," Dumbledore said, his face constricting with concentration.

"Vat if the same thing happened here?" Viktor said quietly, his mind forming the idea as his lips issued the words. "Vat if Dumbledore, the Dumbledore that Moody saw, vas someone on Polyjuice. It's possible."

"But why?" Gabriel collapsed into a chair beside Viktor. "Why would anyone want Moody to find the bodies so badly they'd go to all that trouble."

"Maybe they didn't want Moody to find the bodies, necessarily," Lupin said slowly, obviously thinking hard. "Maybe they wanted to get in and out of the Ministry prison unnoticed and who is less likely to be challenged than Albus Dumbledore."

"It doesn't make any sense," Gabriel said, shaking his head slowly.

"It's funny," Dumbledore remarked, almost to himself. "Sejanus freely admitted to killing Chita, that's Moody's wife," he added for Vix's benefit. "But never any of the other twenty-seven victims." Dumbledore shook his head and turned once more to the paper. "But I'm afraid we have a slightly more recent dilemma to attend to." He turned the paper to the second page where a gleaming black and white photograph showed a wizard with gleaming blonde hair and designer dress robes waving merrily. "Lucius Malfoy has just been appointed the sixth-hundred and sixty-sixth minister of magic."

"God dammit!" Gabriel yelled, before seeing Dumbledore's slightly disapproving gaze. "Sorry."

"Who's Lucius Malfoy?" Vix asked, staring at the moving photograph with a look of amazement on her face.

"A long time supporter of Lord Voldemort. Orien in Armani," Lupin replied to her calmly.

The comment meant nothing to Viktor, who recognized the waving man from a few state dinners with the British Ministry. "Vasn't his father Minister?"

"You'd think they'd have more sense than to elect someone just because his father had the top job," Dumbledore replied, rolling up the paper. "This however, puts a serious damper on out anti-Voldemort activities, because there is no doubt where Mr. Malfoy's loyalties lie."

"What are you going to do?" Gabriel asked.

"Proceed as usual and hope we remain unnoticed," Dumbledore replied, rising to his feet with the creak of old bones. "Whatever happens, only time will tell. And on the subject of time, its running short, I have a Defense Against the Dark Arts class to cover shortly and Viktor needs to proceed to the down to dungeons."

"I'll show him where it is," Gabriel stood up.

"I need to talk you about the Defense Against the Dark Arts--" Lupin began.

Dumbledore held up his hand, "Tonight, if you would be so kind and Professor Flitwick manages to repair the staff table," he added with a smile in the direction of Vix.

Lupin nodded and stood up, as if to leave himself, when a terrific whooshing sound came from Dumbledore's fireplace and a body fell out, followed shortly by another. The first figure stood up and with an automatic wrench in his gut, Viktor realized it was Sirius Black. "I came as soon as I got your letter--" But Black was cut short as Vix broke away from Remus to wrap her arms around his neck, her third hug in the last twelve hours. Black muttered something that Viktor couldn't catch, but Vix broke away laughing. Then stopped.

The second body was slowly struggling to his feet. He was the mirror image of Remus in every way, and yet, Vix had never seen anyone more unlike the man at her back. Maybe it was his hair, ruffled and unruly, or the hollowness of his face, or maybe, the way his eyes seemed lost and empty, the window to a soul where the flame of anger lurked, and the darkness of despair was eminent. The man lost his balance and clutched at the mantelpiece, knocking over a dusty spellbook in the process. It landed on the floor with a thud, heralding the heavy silence that rang out in the room. Dumbledore was the first to move, breaking away from Gabriel he took a few brisk steps forward and offered his hand to the man, "Albus Dumbledore. You must be the famous Romulus, it's a pleasure to meet you at last."

The man stared blankly at Dumbledore's hand for a few seconds and then a nasty smile etched itself across his gray face. He moved his hand, and for the briefest of seconds, Vix thought he would take Dumbledore's own, but instead he extended his middle finger, his gray eyes daring Dumbledore to retaliate. Albus's hand slowly dropped to his side. "I must be going," he said quietly, eyes never wavering from Romulus's depreciating grin. And without that, Dumbledore left the room, his boots ringing shrilly on the hard wooden stairs, Viktor Krum and Gabriel not far behind.

"Vix, meet Romulus," Sirius said blithely, leaning up against the fireplace. "Remus's evil twin."

Both Remus and Romulus shot Sirius a look of pure death, their body language both eerily reminiscent of the other's. And for a while, no one spoke, the silence hard on every ear as every heart tried to make sense of the situation, which was beyond any justification, and piece together the fractured pieces, but to no avail.

It was Sirius who finally broke the silence, "You've never been to Hogwarts, have you, Vix?"

She turned away from Romulus, who was still gripping the mantelpiece so hard that his knuckles had turned white, "No, I haven't."

"How about we give you the grand tour?" It was plain by Sirius's tone that all he really wanted to do was to free himself from the oppressive atmosphere of Dumbledore's office. He turned to Romulus, his face sporting a nasty smile, "Coming?"

Romulus's mouth bent into a sneer, "No."

Sirius shrugged, "Not my loss, the day isn't getting any younger." He opened the door and walked out, followed shortly by Vix, and then Remus, who fixed Romulus with his intense gray stare as the door swung shut.

----

Harry hit the ground with a thud, his ears ringing and head throbbing as the crisp blue sky whirled above him in a dance that made his eyes swim. Trying to make some sense of the situation he attempted to pick himself up off of the ground, but his hands instantly lost their grip, the soil running through his fingers like grains of... sand. Impossible. Harry shut his eyes, but when he reopened them, stark reality still confronted him. He was in the middle of a desert, yellow sand stretching as far as the eye could see, until it met the wide open sky thousands of miles away. Harry heard a moan beside him, and turning, he saw Hermione struggling to her knees, the entire left side of her face coated with sand. "Where are we?" she began, trailing off to gape at the mass of never-ending dunes in absolute shock.

"A desert," Harry replied, wincing in the hot sun as he got to his feet. "I think that tube was some kind of portkey."

"You think?" Harry and Hermione turned around to see Ron, the bottom half of his Hogwarts robes trailing in the sand. "You two just appeared out of nowhere."

"You!" Hermione shrieked, leaping to her feet. "You're the one that got us into this mess in the first place!"

Ron stared at her indignantly, "Who wanted to go to Hagrid's cabin? Not me!"

"You grabbed the stupid tube!" In an effort to launch herself at Ron, Hermione tripped over the loose end of her robes and lost her balance. She let out a shrill scream as her feet gave out from under her and she tumbled head over heels down the sand dune and out of view.

"Hermione!" Harry and Ron cried as one as they ran down the hillock after her, heedless of the shifting dune underneath their feet.

"I'm all right," she lay at the bottom, pale, winded and rather sandy, but otherwise unhurt.

"Hermione, I'm sorry," Ron began, but Harry cut him off as he pointed off into the eastern horizon.

"Look!" Hidden up until now by the crest of the dune was a thin line of figures that could only be a caravan. They were so far away that any individual features were impossible to discern, but a banner flying over the single wagon proclaimed the letters SPQR to the desolate desert.

"Who are they?" Ron whistled.

"I dunno," Harry replied, moping his already sweaty brow. "But they're bound to know more about this place than we do, eh?"

Only Hermione had remained silent, pointing at the caravan's banner with a shocked expression on her face. "SPQR..."

Harry looked at her incredulously, "So?"

"SPQR," Hermione insisted, staring from Harry to Ron with an absolutly terrified expression on her face. "Senate Populus Que Romanus."

"Er... god bless you?" Ron replied, exchanging a dumbstruck glance with Harry.

"Honestly!" she snorted, giving them both a look of complete disgust. "Neither of you have any idea what I'm talking about, do you? And Harry, you went to Muggle school, too."

"Not to say that I learned anything," Harry muttered sulkily, looking down at his feet.

"We're in Ancient Rome," Hermione said flatly, noticing with a smug satisfaction when both of their jaws simultaneously dropped.

"You're joking!" Ron just gaped. Harry for his part, was too dumbfounded to speak, but if he could have found his words, they would be along the same lines as Ron's.

"No I'm not," Hermione said stuffily, sounding for all the word like an indignant Percy. "SPQR, the abbreviation for Senate Populus Que Romanus, was the motto of ancient Rome. Any group of traveling Roman citizens that wanted to keep their heads carried an SPQR banner to show that they were under the protection of the Emperor. The banners haven't been used since Rome fell in 476 AD."

"Maybe they're just a bunch of nutters, who like to pretend they're Ancient Romans," Ron said rather weakly.

"See Ron," Hermione said sarcastically. "I would be inclined to agree with you if we weren't up to ears in the sand in the middle of what could be the god-forsaken Sahara Desert!"

"And whose fault is that?" Ron snapped back, the tips of his ears going red.

"Both of you!" Harry wasn't in the mood for another fight between Ron and Hermione, especially when they had suddenly been transported thousands of miles and possibly thousands of years from where they were supposed to be.

"Well, I guess its safe to say we'll be late for Potions," Ron sighed.

"Shhh!" Harry caught Ron's arm and motioned him to look towards the caravan, which had unmistakably changed its course and was now heading straight towards them. "I suppose well find out soon enough."

----

"You do not!" Vix practically burst out, her jaw dropping.

"Yes, we do," Sirius remarked with a debonair grin.

"There are no such thing as elves," she said firmly, standing still in the middle of the deserted corridor.

Remus stopped, a slightly amused look on his face, "Yes, and a year ago there was no such thing as wizards."

Vix smiled mischievously, "And look where that got me."

Sirius abruptly halted in front of a massive painting depicting a bowl of fruit, "Its been so long since I've been anywhere near here..."

"You tickle the pear, Sirius," Remus interrupted, walking up beside him to gaze at the painting.

"I remember that," he said with a long suffering sigh. Reaching up a finger, Sirius did so, and the pear let out a squeaky high-pitched giggle as it swung open on its hinges to reveal the Hogwarts kitchens. "I thought you might enjoy this Vix," Sirius added with a grin, "Being a chef."

"Incredible," she murmured, for once at a loss for words. To Remus and Sirius, used to the grandeur of Hogwarts, the kitchens were nothing new, but to Vix they were a spiritual experience. The ceiling stretched up almost as far as the eye could see, its dome becoming the floor of the great hall high above. Back on earth, the sinks, fireplaces, and stoves stretched for what seemed an eternity, each burner simmering with its own saucepan of a jus, or Pheasant Stew, or something equally mouthwatering so that all the savory aromas melded together into one irresistible food smell that was omnipresent and inescapable. "How can you two just stand there--" she began, but was just off when something pulled on her leg.

"Mistress, Mistress, may I gets you anything you is wishing?" Vix let out a high pitched scream. The thing on her leg gave a panicked whimper of its own and dove behind the nearest stove, watching her reproachfully with its huge lamp-like eyes.

"What is that thing!" she screeched, backing as far away from the stove as possible.

"An elf," Sirius replied, watching the whole episode with great relish.

Remus took a step towards the stove and reached out his hand, "It's ok, we're not going to hurt you, you can come out now."

"I is not liking loud noises," the elf whimpered piteously, creeping forward on its hands and knees towards his outstretched fingers. "I is not liking them one bit, not that I is complaining. I is a good elf, I does what I is supposed to." The elf was now out from behind the stove, its disgruntled expression pared with its wing-like ears, enormous eyes and long thin nose had the effect of making it look absolutely ridiculous.

"What's your name?" Remus said quietly, obviously trying to make up for Vix's reaction.

"I is Jiggy," the elf replied huffily. "What is you wishing?"

Vix immediately started laughing, whether at the elf's name or high pitched voice, Remus would never know, though he suspected the former. Almost immediately, another elf slid up beside the first, but where Jiggy was wearing a chef's hat, this elf sported a tea cozy. The tea cozy wasn't the only thing out of joint about this elf, for draped around his neck like a noose was a polka-dotted muggle tie, and over his body shoulders he wore an awful striped vest. The elf pointed at Sirius and let out a squeal of delight. "I know you, sir!" he yelled merrily.

"Oh..." Sirius looked less that thrilled at this prospect. "You do, eh?"

"Yes!" The elf was so happy, its started doing what looked like poor excuse for a highland jig. "You is the godfather of Harry Potter!"

At the words, "Harry Potter", hundreds of little elven heads appeared from everywhere in the kitchen, under stoves, behind sinks, even a few had been sitting in the saucepans. "Yes," Sirius looked rather uncomfortable at his sudden audience, "I am..."

"Oh, Harry Potter is a great wizard!" The elf chortled, bouncing up and down like he was on steroids. "Harry Potter freed Dobby from his master, Harry Potter gave Dobby clothes! And..." the elf added with a positively adoring look in his eye. "Harry Potter gave Dobby these socks!" Dobby lifted up his feet to show Sirius. On the right one, there was a rather disgusting moldy orange sock and on the left, a bright fuzzy purple one with outrageous blue dots.

"Harry has splendid taste," Sirius remarked, staring at the purple and blue sock with a pained smile.

The sarcasm was lost on the elf, who positively beamed. "Harry is a friend to Dobby, Dobby visits Harry Potter each month, and that is why Dobby didn't tell anyone when he saw Harry sneaking out of the castle to Hagrid's cabin today, no Dobby's mouth is shut--"

"Sneaking out of the castle?" Sirius's brows contracted. "When?"

"Today at lunch," Dobby said, still grinning from ear to ear. "Dobby heard him talking to his friends, they is going to Hagrid's cabin, but Dobby is not telling--"

"It's been great Dobby," Sirius said, grabbing Remus's arm urgently. "But we have to go." And with that the three of them left the kitchens.

----

The reached the cabin in less time than Remus had thought possible. It was just as he remembered it with its thatch roof, slightly overgrown garden, and whitewashed walls. Even though it had been empty for a few months, the place still smelled inexpressibly of Hagrid. It was oddly comforting, to think of the brusque gamekeeper at a time like this. The wooden door was slightly agar, Remus felt a wave of dread as he pushed it open and stepping inside, Vix and Sirius a few paces behind him. His eyes were instantly drawn to a pool of silver lying at the foot of the table. "James's invisibility cloak," he said, bending down to pick it up, the cool cloth running through his fingers like water.

"Harry's been here," Sirius said. "I'm checking the rest of the house," he walked out of the kitchen, egged on by a growing sense of worry.

"What's that?" Vix was pointing at a long cylindrical tube lying on the table, its surface made up of thousands of different colors blending together and blossoming into each other, before flowering off into blooms of their own.

Remus dropped the invisibility cloak and took a step towards the tube, a sense of disbelief coursing through him. "It's a Gracyllian Responder... I didn't even know they really existed."

"A what?" Vix pulled out one of the kitchen chairs, her toes just skimming the ground from her perch in Hagrid's enormous seat.

"A Gracyllian Responder," Remus repeated, taking a step closer to the tube of infinite color. "In the mid 1700s, Ivan Grayllivitch, a Russian wizard, found a way to break through the fabric of time and somehow, place yourself into the past. No one fully understood the concept except Grayllivitch himself, and he guarded it closely, afraid that someone would steal it. He developed seven of these Responders which could direct whoever touched them into any place, past, future, or present. The idea of time travel is very dangerous. Why bother to fight your enemy when you could go back in time and slit his throat in the cradle, you see? There are many very scary realities with time travel, so when the Russian Ministry got wind of Grayllivitch's doings, they broke into his lab and destroyed every Responder they found there. Grayllivitch was never seen again but legend has it he escaped into the past. Nowadays, not many people seriously believe that the Responders even existed."

"It's beautiful," Vix murmured, gazing at the Responder in awe.

"Harry's gone," Sirius said, returning into the kitchen, his face contorted with worry.

"They probably touched the Responder," Remus said heavily, gesturing towards the tube lying in the middle of Hagrid's table, glinting maliciously at them.

"Shit," Sirius muttered, crossing to the table. "What the hell was he thinking?"

"He probably didn't even know what it was," Remus said gently.

"I'm going after him," Sirius said, reaching for the shining tube.

"Wait," Remus gripped his arm fast. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into."

"Neither did Harry," Sirius said, clenching his teeth as he tried to wrench away. "Go back up to the castle and tell Dumbledore."

"If you think I'm going to let you go alone then you're insane," Remus said fervently, still keeping his hold on Sirius's arm.

"Vix, go up to the castle and--" Sirius began.

"No," she answered. "If you're going, I am."

"No!" Remus and Sirius turned as one to her.

"You're a muggle!" Remus said in utter disbelief.

"And you're an asshole," Vix said unconcernedly, reaching for the tube. In an instant, she was gone.

"Shit!" Sirius yelled, as he grabbed for the Grayllivian Responder, Remus a frantic heartbeat behind.

----

From outside the door, Romulus smiled. They were gone, Black, his good-for-nothing brother, and their Chinese lapdog disappeared without a trace, hopefully never to be seen again. His own world, his own dreams, his own life was his once more, free of their oppressive self-righteous goodness. He wouldn't miss them. "Lupin," a hand caught his shoulder, and he nearly jumped out of his skin. Turning around slowly, counter to the fearful beating of his heart, he was faced with a sallow figure whose face he recognized form every sports magazine ever printed. "Have you seen Her-my-oh-ninny?"

The question could not have been more unanticipated, especially coming from the likes of Viktor Krum. "What?"

Krum took a step closer to Romulus. "Her-my-oh-ninny Granger, she is a fifth year at the school. She knows Hagrid, vho lives down here, and I vas vondering if she had come to see him, as she vasn't in Potions."

"There's nothing in there," Romulus said quickly, a little too quickly, for a look of suspicion flashed over Krum's face.

Without a word to Romulus, Krum flung open the door to the cabin, revealing the invisibility cloak, lying on the floor, the gigantic dinging room chairs, and the Greyillivian Responder. "The invisibility cloak belonged to a friend of Her-my-oh-ninny's," he said, quiet accusation on his face.

"So?" Romulus added, thinking only of the best way to disentangle himself so he could flee this Scottish hellhole. Krum said nothing, staring at the Greyillivian Responder. Romulus saw comprehension dawn on his face, saw him reach for the tube... "No!" he yelled, gripping onto Krum's back. But it was too late, in less than a moment, they were both gone.

----

Seven paces across.

His whole world, his entire reckoning, had been reduced to 7 paces across, all cased in by walls of stone, too thick, too sturdy to ever fall. He was sundered completely from the outside world.

The sunlight shied away from his dank cell. The cool breeze was replaced by dirty air, passed all too many times through the lungs of damned men. And the sounds-- the screams, the wails. He could not even begin to express the horror of those sounds.

And he was alone.

The last human he had seen was the warden who had brought him in, and remarked, on an offhand note, that he now held residence in the call that Sirius Black had occupied until his escape. He had laughed then, at the irony. And then, the heavy door had slammed shut, the key turned forever in the lock...

He didn't laugh anymore.

There was no laughter in Azkaban.

----

well that's just your daily dose of sunshine, eh? thanks to all that the harry potter love test (64 and counting… though I'm sure none of you are reading this so why do I bother :O) ). I apologize for that little dip into the world of cliches, but who can resist once in a while :O). so an even bigger and more special thanks for those who reviewed the last chapter and to juliana who didn't review but is just cool :O), trinity day, franimal, brownie, viktor'sgurl, leef, kali ma, silimay, tia'rahu, julie, erica, alicia/ sue spinnet, rowena (extra kudos for betaing :O) ), aragog, and last but definatly not least, NS. OH! and for anyone who cares, I have nothing against Charlie Parker, Sirius just dosen't like him. And I DO own all the Harry Potter characters so go ahead and sue me. next up, lucius malfoy is evil, lotsa romulus/remus flashbacks, and russell crowe (gladiator) runs off with hermione. or not. anyway, that's enough out of me go read something else you lazy lugs, or review and make me smile. ciao.