A/N: The Big Question: Can Rheanna be forgived for taking a whole week on this chapter? Dunno... will it help if I told you my newest little brother was born Monday, and that slowed me down? (Hermione would be ashamed of how much I got away with in school because of Austin!) In any case, I DID get this up before Christmas, and c'mon, I write faster than a lot of writers. :-) No promises, but I try very hard to write a chapter and a half per week. Would it also help to know I'm writing a fic on the Weasley twins and Lee Jordan that I hope to get up soon?

This chapter: Carquel Gets Added To The Puzzle

Dedicated to: Austin and my reviewers, as usual. :-)

Written under the infulence of: The Beatles' Day Tripper , the Eagles Already Gone, and CCR's Bad Moon Rising, among others.

Listen, guys, on the entry about the CC meeting... I wrote it half asleep, using the Beatles to keep myself awake. (I've been half-asleep for weeks; how does Remus handle being in this state so much? Gosh, it's annoying as heck....) I would write a paragraph and lean back on my bed just savouring the softness and comfort, considering going asleep! Then I got as far as I did, looked down, and said: "Okay, that's enough, I can't take anymore, History of Magic just ended!" Sorry, but I think you got an idea of the CC meetings, which was a fourth of the intent. :-)


The Sirius Chapter: I know, I said it would be at Christmas. Sorry, I met Hermione's Christmas, not mine! (Think what a great present Siruis would be at Christmas... *grin*)

The Roberts: No, I forgot all about the Roberts in Goblet of Fire. I was thinking of the Roberts Remus met in Nine Days Old (not posted yet). But I think I can consider making them relatives now that it was brought to my attention.

Julia: I read your e-mail on You-Know-What. Wow, girl, you do your research! I'll try to get back with you for my own ideas on how to work it in.

Brittany: Sorry I haven't caught you and my email was so short! Merry Christmas, girlfriend!
Lavender Ice: I'm thrilled you think so. :-)

Isa: Sorry I haven't caught you either! We'll have to do that before school starts again!

All reviewers: Thank you indeed. *big hearty handshake* Thanks for all your support and ideas!
Now, I suppose I should stop rambling and get with it? *grin*


On Marlana Payne: Brit, remember her from another of my fics? *grin* She was a minor character in another fic that I erased from my account. I meant for her to be that.... but minor characters have a habit of taking over.

On Carquel: I'll try to explain more about him. Hermione already does, so she didn't go into specfics. Let's see, the only person he respects is Dumbledore, Remus thinks of him as the "Nowhere Man" from a Beatle song, he developed the Wolfsbane Potion and gave Hagrid the idea for Blast-Ended Skrewts, and I'll have other fics on him eventually. :-) Sounds interesting? (He's a sad, sad genius.)

On Hermione's thoughts on Mercy Gondola: She's a fifteen-year-old. She'll be second-guessing herself and wishing she was better. It's teenagerhood. Personally, I think Hermione Granger is a pretty name... just Hermione doesn't. :-)



7 November


Ron refused to talk with me since Monday. Today, however, Harry was finally released from the hospital wing, and whether he admitted it or not, they needed my help. A good portion of the school went crazy over his return. Ginny suggested getting Harry a tag to wear on his robes that read: "I'm feeling just fine, thank you, and am delighted to be back. Thank you very much for your concern." Harry told her instantly to make nothing of the sort… you know how sensitive he is to looking "big-headed". But it was the most practical idea I ever heard, and trust me, it would have saved everyone involved a lot of breath. Harry was caught in a crowd the entire day, barely able to get from class to class. Ron said I was nearly as bad as some of the adoring Ravenclaws - I did ask Harry if he was getting too tired, oh, sixty-two times an hour. Well, sorry! I was concerned, and Madam Pomfrey said that if he got tired he should rest.

Harry laughed in my face when he heard that.

Well!

However, we have a meeting of the CC tonight in the Transfiguration room. Harry glanced at me sideways before I could say a thing and said pointedly that he was up to handling that.

"Yes, two hours of Mr. Page, Mr. Bell, and Fleur is completely relaxing," I agreed in false cheerful brightness.

"Compared to Malfoy, it is." Malfoy was having a field day with him.

"Ignore him," I said sympathetically.

"Sure. If he curses me, I'll just ignore it," he replied.

I hoped Sirius could put him in a better mood when he came to the meeting.

The six of us - level one - have met every day since the attack in Red Lion. This is the first time level two came along as well. I foresee complications, between the little grudges everyone is harbouring. The first level didn't really come up with much other than a draft of the warning letter. I notice that since the first level is mainly just schoolchildren, we're handicapped - our hands are seriously tied.

Drothl is the only person in the school who doesn't look tense. Oh, no, not Drothl. Just goes about her business calmly and coolly. Instruct the students, eat, grade papers, sleep, and very pointedly don't read the Daily Prophet. Some people, as Sara pointed out, have nerves of steel. She was watching Drothl as she said it while a group of students were discussing the attack in low voices and looking whiter than she had before the match.

"What's wrong?" I asked, forcedly polite.

"How can she stand that?"

"What?"

"Getting up there and explaining the ins and outs of vampires at a time like this?"

Sara wouldn't comment further. I'm trying to figure out if it's purely the attack that bothers her, or something else.

Parvati just throws her dark-haired head around and says unconcernedly that it's really just a little thing highly coloured. Lavender doesn't look half so sure but doesn't comment on it greatly. But then she rarely does. Except when she needs her constant reassurance from us - especially at night.

"What if he attacks Hogwarts?"

"He never touched Hogwarts before; I expect he's clever enough to know he's no match for Dumbledore," I'll reply bracingly.

"That was before. What about now?"

"He wouldn't date. He doesn't even have half the support and fear he had fifteen years ago and didn't attack then. He won't try now for a good long while," Sara will tell her, voice slightly flat. "I'll let you know when to worry, 'kay?"

"Maybe not even Hogwarts. Hogsmeade?"

"Again, he wouldn't," Parvati will state. "It's too close to here, and even if he did, it's no harm to us."

Lavender still worries, partly being Muggle-born, ignorant of happenings during You-Know-Who's first rise, and all the talk of the CC. I don't blame her.


8 November



The saying on the calendar Alyn sent me read today:

Nobody is perfect. Therefore, to wish to be perfect is to wish to be nobody.

I wish someone would tell Fleur that - and that someone would tell Page and Bell that they're gits. I wish I could record the CC meeting last night, but I'm buried under a pile of homework - mainly the doing of Snape and Drothl. (Who else?)


11 November



Well, I listened to the calendar and decided to give up on being perfect myself. Also, I want to record the meeting while I still remember at least some of the conversation. Since Prof. Binns will never notice and my chance at being Head Girl is shot anyway, I'll write in my diary in History of Magic - which is right now. Luckily, I sat in the back of class so no one can look over my shoulder. (How annoying that is - beyond words.) I'll get the notes off Dean later. Did I mention Dean was the other prefect from Gryffindor?

I don't think I've explained much about the meeting except that they occur and what the general outcome is. Since I now have time, I suppose this is a good opportunity.

The meetings are held in the same room off the Great Hall the champions were ushered into last year… small, in comparison to the Hall, with a comfortable fireplace and portraits staring down the CC interestedly as we, erm, debate. There's a long table in it, rather like a House table, but not quite that long, seated for about twenty. (Harry informed me that it's a recent addition, probably for the CC.)

It may sound like a lack of security, but from what I can gather, the room has many complicated protective charms on it. (Fleur is the keeper of these. I notice Dumbledore is handing out responsibilities to a lot of other people many would expect him to do. In one way, it's good to know he's so foreseeing. On the other hand, it's worrisome. Does he think he - and therefore we - is in so much danger?)

The one in which level two was invited (they are senior members, and with the attack in Red Lion, it's getting serious) was to start at nine o'clock, evening. Harry and I set down at eight-thirty and found Marlana Payne and Jimmy Page already there. They grew abruptly silent as we arrived at the end of the Hall. Page glared sullenly and stalked inside the meeting room. Miss Payne gave her version of warmness - a tight smile. That's as mellow as she gets around people she doesn't know. But I heard she's one of Dumbledore's best agents against the Dark Side.

After Mr. Page entered, Charles Rossington exited, looking thoroughly relived to see us three. Mr. Rossington is about the age of Professor McGonagall, maybe a tad younger, although he looks older. It's funny - he looks so grandfatherly and he co-wrote The Monster Book of Monsters!

Fleur and Lisa and Chelsea came next. Shortly after, Lupin and Sirius arrived. Or, shall I say, Padfoot. We knew from a quick glance not to mention Sirius.

"Say, Rem, I didn't know you had a dog," Miss Payne grinned - much more warmly, this time. She let Sirius sniff her hand before gently rubbing him on the head.

I had a hard time keeping a straight face. There was Marlana Payne, who for two years had spent blood, sweat, and tears hunting down Sirius. And there she was petting him - not having the faintest idea! The irony! I had to bite the insides of my cheeks. "Can I call Page out here and see if he gets nipped?" she continued hopefully.

"No, you may not, but you will," Lupin grinned.

"Say, Jimmy!" Miss Payne called. Page came out, glaring about in general, looking at Fleur like she was from another planet, at Lupin with decided revulsion, and Miss Payne with very decided hatred. She smiled at him all too brightly.

"Harry, perhaps you'd kindly take Snuffles? He's - uneasy, in new surroundings," Lupin suggested, ignoring the face Page and Miss Payne were obviously plotting to murder the other. I smiled to myself and sighed in relief. I was so glad Harry and Sirius got some time to talk.

Another irony was when Lupin and Miss Payne talked. He was helping - very heavily, I might add - harbour the man she wanted to kill, whom she detested - yet Marlana Payne, from what I've seen, gives Remus Lupin respect second only to Albus Dumbledore, which says something. It's such a paradox, how it works out… though it might be handy to Sirius if Payne ever finds him.

Ernie came in time to greet Mrs. Turpin and Mrs. Gondola. Mrs. Turpin used to be a popular Quidditch co-commentator, and yes, that's Lisa's mother (also named Lisa). Lisa doesn't look like her mother; I suppose her looks are her father's. Mrs. Gondola is drop-dead gor -

Sorry. Had to get Ron to bug off.

Mr. Bell (who looks so much like a young pig it's scary) escorted the Three Nurses - I can't think of them as anything else anymore, and in my mind I can just see the capitals. The Three Nurses were doused in so much perfume I had a hard time not choking, and when Harry and Sirius came back out, Snuffles pretended to be "snuffling" from the fumes. Amused and biting his lip, but ever so polite, Lupin nudged him, and for one moment they looked like Ron and Harry on any given day.

Before Fleur motioned us in, Marlana Payne was leaning against the wall, eyes fixed lightly on the Nurses, looking vaguely amused and distinctly disdainful. Probably at the Nurses' girlishness. Miss Payne is tough; that's a given fact. And for a witch, she's rather… modern. The magical world is a bit old-fashioned. Miss Payne wears her hair in a short crop, and that's that.

When everyone was seated, I stood, since I was voted as the highest rank of us five. "Good evening," I began shakily, but then I gained confidence. All I have to do is state greeting and the purpose of the meeting, and quickly review what level one did, and if I can't do that much, I don't think I'm worthy to be a Gryffindor!

"So we're back to guessing You-Know-Who's movements again," grumbled Page, leaning back in his chair. "Cat-and-mouse while he destroys."

Miss Payne glanced witheringly at him before smiling broadly in false brightness. "That's okay, Jimmy. If it's too much on your poor nerves, we can send you off to help Gus Fletcher. That'll suit?"

Fleur glared at her, but several other furtive smiles circled the room, not in the least cut short when she said sharply: "Miss Payne."

Miss Payne met her glance squarely. "Mademoiselle Delacour?"

"We must all work together," Fleur said coolly.

"Exactly. Right. All of us with everybody," Miss Payne nods deadpan in agreement.

See what I mean about pettiness? Luckily, Lupin gave her a warning glance and Mrs. Gondola cut in. "Then let's begin, shall we? Marlana, you have the papers on everything the Dark Lord has right now?"

Miss Payne took out a roll of parchment and passed it around. She recited from memory of Bell examined it. "Death Eaters - we believe at least ten returned to him. Very likely many more." I glanced at Harry. Miss Payne, in turn, glared at Page pointedly. "We'd have to conclude that at least some the Ministry 'accidentally' acquitted."

Page scowled.

"Luckily, our agents have been very helpful. No known giants have been recruited. Due to security measures and harbouring, our Seer has not been captured."

"Like Trelawney? What a pity," Chelsea murmured.

"The rumour of a 'werewolf attack squad' is true. We've estimated about seven."

"Wonder how we managed to get that number," Bell glowered, staring pointedly at Lupin.

"Agents," Miss Payne replied crisply without missing a beat. "We've convinced Gus Fletcher not to double-play." Seeing how us junior members looked confused, she explained: "Sell his goods and services to both the Light and Dark Sides." Our jaws dropped. "Yeah, the man has no scruples, does he? However, they do have another craftsman. We're not sure whom."

Page scoffed loudly. "Let's see, who could that be? Hmm. Let's think. Oh, Sirius Black?"

"Was Black a craftsman? I don't recall him immersed in charms and such. He was a mechanic, wasn't he?" Mrs. Turpin said.

"That's right. You'd think the Dark Lord would do it himself, if it came to Black," Mrs. Gondola nodded.

"Perhaps his werewolf accomplice could tell us of Black's recent skills," suggested Page.

There was a long silence as Page tried to stare Lupin down, but Lupin's eyes were fixed on Miss Payne's scroll. Realizing that one was talking until he replied, he glanced at Page. "If I find the accomplice in question, I'll be sure to let you know."

Miss Payne, grinning, kept reciting: "Whereabouts: unknown. Last known to have a branch of followers in Albania. Recent attack at Red Lion believed to be his work." Her tone changed from secretarial to conversational: "You do know why he would pick that, right?"

There were several short, tense nods.

"Why?" asked Lisa bluntly.

Now more than several glances were exchanged, when Ms. Platt said: "James Potter was born there."

I looked at Harry anxiously. His expression was carefully blank.

"Because it's a half-and-half village," Miss Payne countered. "He gets to stir up both communities."

"How much of zis do we inform ze populace?" Fleur inquired.

"Everything," said Mrs. Turpin instantly. "It's the only way to prepare everyone, and that was a big mistake last time."

"But if it gets intercepted," I spoke up hesitantly, "they know how much we know."

"Exactly," nodded Mr. Page. I was astonished that we could actually agree upon something. I had been silently fuming at him.

"The whole purpose of the Chain was not to reveal strategy, but to inform without the, er, distortion of the media. We must inform of the recent happenings as accurately as we can. Voldemort -" Lupin ignored various flinches and an outright gasp from the Nurses " - will gain just as much of an advantage if his victims are uninformed. Either way, we're slicing off our own wrists, and no doubt we can gain from this course of action rather than the other.

"However, as stated many, many times, most recently by Miss Granger, there's really no point in informing anyone not involved in the particular missions about what we're doing. Likely it'll only cause disturbances, and the less people who know, the better a chance we have of it remaining secret."

I was utterly amazed that Lupin had just said about two paragraphs, and no one even argued them. That was a first.

"So, in English terms," Miss Payne grinned wryly, "we state what we know are facts or are very likely to be facts, but nothing else."

"And encourage them to bring any questions to the Chain," Lupin smiled at her.

"Right," Mrs. Gondola nodded. "I think we all needed that clarification."

"Am I the only one that's lost?" Ernie hissed.

"And while we're drafting and sending owls, we also have to try and gather as much information as we can so we can predict and warn if necessary," added Mavis Johansson, entering. "Sorry I'm late. Got anything accomplished?"

I'm positive she was late intentionally for the express purpose of saying those words and making certain people feel guilty.

Mrs. Johansson, an able-bodied young woman of maybe forty-ish with long thick blonde hair, chose a chair. "My prediction for the next attack is Oxford." In one breath, she rattled off a list of reasons with this incredible energy that fired everyone up.

There were several tentative nods.

"Carquel's stronghold," Lupin said. "Sorry, Mavis, my apologies, but I truly believe that's in just as much danger, if not more, than Oxford."

"No problem at all. Just answer me a question. Why do you think so?"

"Because of all the… well… stuff… in there?" asked Miss Payne.

Lupin nodded. "What's in there, definitely. And in his mind."

"Elaborate," Mr. Page ordered sharply. "How would we know? Carquel doesn't reveal anything he does. For all we know he makes the whole lines of Droobles' Sweets, not the supposed great-and-mighty breakthroughs it's rumoured."

"Ever see a self-spelling wand?" Lupin asked casually. Page and Bell looked at him suspiciously, clearly wondering where this was going. "'Cause I have."

"Probably something your wild backwoods werewolf pack chanced upon," Bell muttered loudly and distinctly. "Maybe even the same one you were terrorizing Red Lion with on the 3rd?"

Lupin didn't move and his gaze met Bell's just as steadily, but something in his eyes looked deadened, hollow, as if he had been shot. Mrs. Johansson and Miss Payne glared at Bell like poison, Mrs. Turpin and Mr. Rossington regarded Bell levelly, Padfoot growled, but it was Mrs. Gondola who told him off.

"Tiledan, we all know very well that our Rem was in no way involved in any such thing. I hope you understand that as well. Rem, continue."

Did I get around to describing Mrs. Gondola? She's beautiful, with honey-coloured hair, big deep brown eyes, a rosy complexion, and a dazzling sweet smile. Her name before she was married was Mercy Mullen. Isn't that pretty? I like it so much better than awful Hermy-own-ninny Granger. Yes, I admit to being jealous of a married woman twenty years older than myself! She talks and carries herself like a queen, so everyone thinks she is one.

In other words, Bell shut up, and Lupin, with a grateful but smile but looking rather stricken and embarrassed (former from the accusation, the latter from the defence) did continue. "Carquel developed it. The self-spelling wand, I mean. And just about every other thing said to be impossible."

"Wait. Back up. How d'we know this?" asked Ms. Hanson, who had looked completely clueless throughout the whole meeting.

"I - I served him for a year."

Lisa blurted out exactly what I had been thinking: "You taught here a full year and never thought to mention this?" She sounded deeply envious. The genius Carquel. I would die for that chance!

"Didn't have anything to do with any of the subjects, as I recall."

"Morgana," breathed Mrs. Gondola. "Carquel? Really and truly? And I supposed this just slipped your mind last year when you and Ricky were Bertha-Jorkins-hunting in Albania?" She shook her head. "Typical Gryffindor." She caught my eye and grinned. "No offence, Miss Granger. You aren't a typical Gryffindor."

"We figured that out," Lisa nodded. I tried not to blush.

Miss Payne's mind looked transparent; she was thinking a mile a minute. "So it would make sense for him to want Carquel and his knowledge. Got it. So why didn't he attack the stronghold last time?"

"He did. Carquel never mentioned it to anyone. Come on, you know him - or his reputation, which isn't much off. Carquel fended several raids by Death Eaters off, but Voldemort wasn't concentrating on it greatly. But now he's likely desperate; he has to regroup, and quickly. Carquel's stronghold would help him do that more than anything except maybe Hogwarts, but we don't have to worry about that."

Too bad Lavender couldn't have heard that - could have reassured her.

Oh, my goodness - is class over already? History never goes that quickly… okay, to wrap up very hurriedly, (A/N: Miss Granger's writing grew untidier and untidier as her entry drew to a close) we spent two long hours drafting letters to send to the third level. We included an account to the best of our knowledge of the recent attack, a warning about strangers, owls from unknown sources, full moon nights, suspicious characters, unidentified broomsticks, odd claims, and to contact their respective branch of the CC if they get any evidence or information on any attacks, past of future. (Rossington jokingly suggested adding Marshall's Village and Jennifer's Forest to our list of hazards. MV and JF don't have much of a reputation, do they?…)

15 November


Another problem with the CC - when you get several claims of information on attacks, and many of them are complete bogus… and you have to tell them apart from the certifiable ones.

"Could be worse," Mrs. Johansson, who had stopped by to help level one, assured us as we wrote (hopefully) polite responses. "If everyone believed there was danger, you'd have zillions of claims of information each day, and have to sort through it all. Granted, I'd rather people took this seriously, but it means a lot of paper. I remember the week right after he - " He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named " - was defeated. It was only me, Remus, and Marlana left here, and Marlana still a seventh-year student. Had to go through one hundred - no exaggeration - each day and offer support as well as reassurance that he was really gone. And that was just those sorts of letters, there was correspondence with foreign countries and Aurors and all sorts of things the Ministry shuffled off here. What a nightmare that was! I don't think I slept for a week."

I cringed. Chelsea grinned. "So, in other words, you're rubbing it in to us young'uns that we got off easy."

"Right," Mrs. Johansson teased back, "Brace up!"

"What about when we do have to face that, though?" I wondered to Harry.

He shrugged and didn't reply. Of course, I realized later, I hadn't been entirely tactful, either…


18 November


Quidditch is actually a very nice relief from the constant grind of the CC. I watch practices more often now, even take my homework down there. It's annoying, of course, to watch Sara, but we've cooled down a bit as of late, and I must admit that once again the Gryffindor Chasers are playing like no one's business - they're working well together. Jason isn't spectacular, but just gets the job done in that quiet way… more soothing to watch than anything. Something is still calm and peaceful! Harry, as usual, is great. Just watching him fly takes my mind off a lot; it's so graceful, like he doesn't realize he's a billion feet off the ground and nearly about to fall, like it often looks from down here!

Fred and George… well, they certainly don't look graceful… but they're a great laugh. I like to watch how they can communicate without words; they just sort of read each other's minds. Lee Jordan often goes down to practice commentating. Today he even said: "Say, Hermione, I'll be gone next year. Ever thought of being commentator?"

I startled. "Me?"

"You. You know, that person you seem to walk around as."

"You're crazy!" I turned back to my Charms homework.

"Come on, it's not as if Drothl monitors. Just Drothl, and if our luck holds, she'll be gone next year."

"Just watch her be the one to stay."

"That's not what I wanted to talk about, blast it. I want to know if you'll try out for commentator."

"I'll think of it," I said, to get him to go.


23 November


Fred, George, and "David" have a lot of thinking to do. I'm watching them get chewed off right now. Oh, I hope it's not all that bad!

Will Gred and Forge be expelled? Will the next attack be on Carquel's stronghold? Will Hermione's self-esteem boost... and WILL she be commentator next year? What other problems will the CC encounter, and when will I just plain kill off Drothl? (No, I can't promise that, can I?) Will Ron and Hermione realize that they're in love? (I refuse to promise to marry them. I believe they will seriously date, but no promises on marriage. They could met lots of people.) Did you enjoy this chapter that was Under The Influence Of The Dust Man? Will I finally get the diary to catch up to our real time? (Dec. in Dec., etc? *grin*) Will I get more than four reviews? *wink* No offence to those who did! Any chance I might get a new reviewer by someone I could convince to get out of lurk mode? (HINT!!!) Oh, and read Voltora's "The Greatest Gift". It's finished and really good, as is Nomad's "Comspiracy of Silence" series, featuring Severus Snape's schoolyears. A little, oh, "original", but a VERY interesting read. Happy Holidays to everyone! DECK the halls with boughs of holly! And Austin says hello!