A/N: Hey, up in less than a month! That's becoming a record for this story... this one went quick, but I had to struggle with certain people who couldn't keep their big mouths shut *coughCharlieRemusSiriuscough* Thanks again for your patience.

Thanks and hugs to enoimreH, flamewing, Lavander Ice, Le Chat Qui Garde La Lune, Mystical Dreams, Storm, Tarawen, UAngel, and Voltora for pushing this story along...

Isabelle, let's just chalk it up to Hermione being too distraught to notice the "30 Feb." The thing I found really amusing is that none of us noticed that Feburary went straight to April! Went back and fixed that up, too.

So, Chapter twenty: winding up both the Hagrid and the Sara plotlines for the time being, so we can inch along to more mysteries, the climax and action...


Chapter Twenty: A Nond The Cave
11 March

I think I can finally accept Hagrid's death now.

Charlie, as I said, came to Hogwarts today. For the greater part of the morning he loitered around, chatted with just about everyone, and in the evening he joined a Gryffindor Quidditch practice, to everyone's great enjoyment. But it's what he told us this afternoon that I'm writing about.

I've been thinking Hagrid's death had no poetical justice to it. Well, it doesn't need any, I decided a few days ago, but we've found some.

After our last class of the day, Charlie caught us in the corridors and motioned for us to come along. At first there was small talk about - oh, how maddeningly cliché! - weather. Yes, weather. And he asked us how school was going. Ron and Harry even played along! I felt like strangling the three of them.

Finally, while we were wandering around the Gryffindor passageways, purposefully getting lost, Charlie abruptly quit his little sunshine talk. He broke from our group a bit and walked ahead, nervously twiddling his fingers and pacing a little. He looked rather uncomfortable when he was indoors. I think he prefers being outside, especially in difficult situations like this.

"Hagrid," he finally managed at last, one full word.

"We know about that, Charlie," Ron said in a depressed sort of tone.

"Well, so do I. I…" Charlie swallowed. "… I saw him die."

That sure caught our attention. Since human nature is instinctively morbid, all three of us looked up at him, tacitly encouraging him to go on.

"And, well, I feel as if you three out to know - if you don't mind hearing it - "

"Is it quite… gruesome?" I asked, not able to find a better word.

"It's death, Hermione," he replied, and I felt rather stupid for a moment, "I'm not here to give you nightmares. Actually, it might help you to cope, I don't know."

"Go on," Ron nodded.

"Sure?"

"Yes," Harry told him.

"Well, alright - " Charlie cut off, smiled slightly, and shook his head. "I'm supposed to be assuring you lot, not the other way around. I'm sorry. Let me get a grip." After a deep breath, he began in earnest: "We had known Hagrid and one of our other men, D'Vatsky, were prime targets for Death Eaters, so when it was night and we were flying over a deserted or rural area, we would make sure they weren't alone. But they caught us off guard - Hagrid, Hagrid was on shift over one of the larger villages that morning.

"Figuring no one would probably try to harm us here, with so many witnesses on a clear day, we let Hagrid and my partner Michael alone to field two of the dragons a little ahead of us - the two energetic ones; they wanted to spread their wings a bit." Charlie smiled wryly. "I meant the dragons, of course, although Hagrid and Mike were the same way.

" I was further behind but ahead of the rest, trying to calm this one, Vilene - she's a temperamental one - when I saw a fiery sort of spell shoot into the air. When it happened a couple more times, I knew that it wasn't just a stray spell gone wrong - it was aiming for Hagrid, and I reckoned it was Dark Magic - and I was right about that.

"Two of the spells hit Hagrid. It turned out that they were hexes to eat away the flesh - very painful, not pretty - but while they made him a little itchy, they didn't affect him, I reckon because he has giant blood and all. So…"

Charlie took another deep breath and started talking fastly. "The Death Eaters seemed to realise that they weren't going to be able to hurt him, especially not from that distance, so they - they started aiming for the dragons. I recognised it as the Conjunctivitus Curse; we sometimes use it when they start flying about at the reservation and we want them to come down. They lose their eyesight and are so bemused that they crash to the ground - only then they're so upset that they'll get even more aggressive than usual.

"Hagrid didn't know this, but Mike did, and I heard him call to him - 'Hagrid, it's a Conjunctivitus! It'll get them in the eye!' Hagrid somehow knew how this would affect them, I'm not sure how - "

"Norbert," I said absently. The boys stared at me. "First year, remember? Hagrid was researching dragons…" They looked pained.

"So," Charlie continued tightly, "they started shooting Conjunctivitus at one of the dragons, Porum. And since Hagrid knew what would happen - the Ministry told us before we left that if any dragons attacked a town, they'd be executed immediately, and you know Hagrid would have been devastated. I remember him saying to the official that he'd die before he let any of the dragons be killed. He… flew… he flew faster than I knew anyone could, really - started flying about in front of Porum as if he were a Keeper."

"Playing Keeper in front of a fire-breathing dragon," Ron whispered in amazement.

"They kept firing the curses. Eventually one of them was dead-on; it was heading straight for Porum's eye - "

"And Hagrid blocked it," Harry whispered, sounding so stricken that I wanted to hug him.

"No, that's the problem, he didn't block it," Charlie said miserably. Porum was so angry that he let out of roar of fire, and - I told you, Hagrid was right in front of Porum's face. He was nearly burnt to a crisp. As it was, it was so bad that it's why his casket was covered at the funeral."
His voice shook as he continued. "Mike and I abandoned our charges and flew over there. It's a wonder Vilene and Pandora didn't go off. We caught Hagrid before he quite hit the ground. Then we tried to calm Porum. You know, funny thing, after hearing Hagrid's cry - I'm afraid his last word was a scream - Porum was as quiet as anything. Almost if she were mourning."

"Is it possible he knew?" Ron asked.

Charlie was thoughtful. "Many animals can get so attached to a human that they do mourn when they die. I love dragons, you know, I think they're the most fascinating creatures on earth, but even though they're very intelligent, it doesn't seem quite logical that Porum could have gotten to know Hagrid that quickly. After all, Hagrid worked with all the dragons, not just Porum… yet why else was Porum so unhappy after Hagrid died?"

He sighed and brushed something invisible off of his leg. "All that I know is that Hagrid died because of love for a dragon, and that the Death Eaters intentionally killed him by using his love to their advantage. Some days it's a comfort; other days it's like rubbing salt in a wound. But I still think it might help you. There's been many a person who died at their hands who didn't have a scrap anything nice attached to their death to comfort anyone left behind."

We were silent a while. Finally, Harry spoke up. "Thank you, Charlie."

"Yeah, thanks," Ron said. (I know that sounds as if he was apathetic but he truly sounded sincere about his gratitude.)

"I am glad to know that. Thank you," I told Charlie, as heartily as possible, because I knew that it must have been difficult for him to relive that morning.

"Pass the word on," he asked us. "I think everyone should know that."

We promised. I haven't told anyone just yet, but I will - because I'm immensely proud of Hagrid and want others to be as well.

By the way, Charlie is offering a challenge to everyone: seven Weasley siblings will take on and defeat anyone in a Quidditch match. "Aren't there seven people in this school with guts?" he asked. When he pressed the Ravenclaws, Lisa Turpin used the excuse that everyone was too busy with the CC. All around, so far we have a gutless school.


13 March

It's four-thirty in the morning, which would be a fine time to recap Remus's reaction last night when we told him about Sara. No, I don't need to rest. Lately I've been so worried about everything that sleep is something that flees in terror whenever I show up.

We met him in the Great Hall last night. Actually, he met us, because while we told him to arrive at seven, we were so full of anticipation that thought we were there at six-thirty. And then he actually had the gall to be five minutes late. I thought Ron when going to burst with impatience. Remus noted the expression on his face and smiled.

"I'm sorry if I've kept you waiting. I've an extra-long letter here and wasn't allowed to leave until it was finished." To explain without words, he slipped Harry a letter in Sirius's now-familiar writing.

"Snuffles a little over-zealous?" Harry asked knowingly.

"As always." Remus was about to ask how we were doing, but Ron cut him off before the words were fairly out of his mouth:

"Do you have a brother?"

Remus blinked. "Well, yes, in fact." We stared at him silently until he fed us more information. [A/N: Quite a handy way of garnering information, as every teenager knows.] "Named Ritchie. He's dead now."

"Have a good relationship?" I asked casually. "Get along well?"

This had the effect of making Remus look uncomfortable. "Well, he was ten years older than me, really, so I wouldn't say we were very close." He nervously pushed his hair from his face.

"Did he hate you?" Ron asked, very bluntly.

Reflexively, Remus's hand went to his forehead, even though he had just moved his bangs aside. After realising this, he asked evenly: "Is there any particular reason that you want to know?" I've concluded that Remus is not the type to sacrifice information about himself unless he has a good reason. I wondered what sort of effect a decade alone in the world could have on a person.

We glanced at each other, wondering how to answer this. Harry solved it. "Please trust us, Remus," he said. "We'll explain in a moment."

Remus sighed. "Actually, we only saw each other one time after I was bitten. My father - my birth father - left with Ritchie after having several medi-wizards confirm that there was nothing anyone could do to cure me."

"Oh!" I cried out before I caught myself. I was thinking of Maria What's-Her-Name from primary. She would have had more than enough problems without her father betraying her. "Sorry," I blushed quickly. "Did you communicate at all?"

"Not for a long while. My father ordered my mother and I never to contact Ritchie, and got the Ministry to back him on that. He did write a rather snide note when he got engaged ten years later." Ron, Harry, and I exchanged significant looks.

"When did you see each other again?" I asked.

Remus smiled wryly. "My fifth or sixth year, I can't quite remember which. Fifth. Ritchie became a renovator, like my father, and Hogwarts needed some repairs. Ritchie was hired. I had no clue that the renovator coming was Ritchie, and he certainly didn't suspect that he would find me a student here."

"And - it didn't go well?" Harry guessed, thinking of what Sara had said about her family.

"Not quite," Remus shrugged. "We avoided each other. Now, James and Sirius loved to test him - Ritchie had a livid fear of rats, so you can imagine the results - but we only ran into each other his last evening, as he was leaving. Tempers flew."

"And his wife?" I prodded.

"Wife?" Remus was looking more bemused with every question. "I never saw her. I know they had a little girl. That's when we started communicating in earnest again - when I heard she even existed, I wanted to know about her. Despite everything, Ritchie was my brother, and she was his daughter."

"What did you find out?"

Remus looked mildly downcast. As his emotions on the outside are only a fraction of what he feels eternally, I felt badly for him. "Nothing, except that I had better stay away from her and Ritchie's wife. The warnings and threats were rather generic; you'd find them the same in most dramatic serial stories in cheap tabloids."

I giggled in spite of myself.

Ron appeared deeply disturbed. "But - But he was your brother!" I realised that he was appalled at the thought of any of his close-knit brothers regarding him like that. I wanted to tell him not to worry. The Weasleys were not like that.

"And as a werewolf, I was the threat to his family. I'm sure that's what Father had drilled into his head - I'm rather certain Ritchie wouldn't have felt like that otherwise." He sighed. "I think Ritchie actually had it worse than I did. Father was a very… hard man. It's not that he was a bad person, but very - unbendable.

"Ritchie and I grew up in a very small, homely village. It was very difficult to get adjusted outside of it. I can imagine that Father was very impatient with Ritchie's bewilderment. On the other hand, I was still with my mum…" The change in Remus's voice when he talked of his father and his mother was a mile wide. "She was frightened of the world outside of Canan Millbury too, I'm certain, but she was always… well, a mother." Remus suddenly hesitated and cut off. "I'm sorry for rambling. I'm getting too deep into memory."

I assured him it didn't matter. "By the way," I added casually, "we think we know Ritchie's daughter."

Ron and Harry grinned. Remus, however, looked as though we had just slapped him across the face. He stared at me for a moment, before his gaze slowly turned to the boys.

"Now that you've had fun with shocking me with that announcement," Remus said after finding his voice, "you may want to elaborate. I assure you that I'm nicely dumbstruck."

"I don't think we've ever mentioned anything about it to you," Harry "elaborated" carefully, "but there's a girl named Sara Blustovadk. She was missing from Hogwarts two years. Since she's two years older than us, she's now in our year. And we happened to notice the other day that she looks identical to you."

"You mean I noticed," I pretended to argue, because Remus looked as though he couldn't collect his thoughts.

"Yeah, yeah, it was Hermione who noticed," Ron rolled his eyes. "As always."

Remus licked his lips. "That's your entire basis for her being my brother's daughter?"

"That, and the fact that she's orphaned, that her parents and her grandfather hated her because she looked like her father's dreadfully disgraceful brother…"

"How'd you find that out?"

"She told us," Harry said matter-of-factly. "We were the only two here over holiday, and, well, we started spilling our souls out in general boredom."

Remus hesitated.

"She does look exactly like you," Ron said.

Remus started walking the width of the Great Hall, face unreadable. "Where does she live?"

"With some Ministry member Blustovadk for most of her life, after he died her second year she went to a Muggle orphanage a few months and was also there the past year and a half; in between, with the Malfoys - "

"The Malfoys?!" Remus cried.

"Yeah," Harry continued, "I'm thinking they used her as a sort of servant, thinking she was a Muggle, I suppose - lower life form and all." He glanced at me. "I'm sorry, Hermione, but you know the Malfoys."

I nodded. "Not a problem, Harry."

"Well, anything's possible," Remus murmured to himself, still pacing.

"Don't you believe us?" Ron asked, a little defencively.

"Ron, I'd always believe you, but I'm just considering the possibility that there might be a mistake or a coincidence."

"Think of it this way, then," Ron suggested brightly. "She's a nice bright girl who needs a home and you'd make her a fantastic guardian."

Remus stopped and raised an eyebrow.

"Profes - Remus, we're sure," Ron said certainly. "How's this - why not meet her and decide for yourself?" He grinned. "Even if it's not your niece, you might get attached to her anyway."

"I feel as if I'm being had somewhere along the line here." Remus turned to me. "So I see you've all made up?"

"What?" Harry asked. "Oh, the Society."

Remus's face darkened. "I thought so. The Society for Purity?"

Ron cracked a knuckle and called the Society a very dirty variation on its name.

"My thoughts exactly, Ron," Remus nodded, "but you needn't speak so loudly."

I cast a Silencing Charm around us as Ron started to explain. "Well, the" - we'll just delete these few syllables - "were starting to threaten Hermione, saying that if she didn't leave they'd hurt her friends - us. So Hermione single-handedly started a campaign to play Public Enemy Number One to all of us."

I reddened. "I'm sorry," I said, for the umpteenth time. I reddened more so when I saw all three of them looking at me with quiet respect. I think that's the first time I'll ever be esteemed for acting like a bratty git.

"It might have been a little over-zealous, but it was also a very fine thing to do, Hermione," Remus said gently.

"We found out, though," Ron continued. "And now we're - "

A very audible snicker came from somewhere. We glanced at each other nervously.

"I shouldn't've let you talk of it," Remus said, voice low. "It wouldn't be surprising if they knew how to deactivate Silencing Charms. We'll discuss it later."

"Soon later," I implored, exchanging a look with Ron as we thought about our spying attempts.

"As soon as possible. Write if you need to."

"If we change the subject, can we stop whispering?" Ron asked.

"Depends, why?"

"Sara," Harry said. "Remus, you've got to meet her."

Remus thought a moment. "Hogsmeade, on Saturday…" he suggested slowly. "What's she like? What would she think of Snuffles?"

I let the boys answer that, as they knew her better. Ron was confident. "Wouldn't say a word."

Harry was more cautious. Sirius was his wanted and dearly loved godfather. But eventually Ron warmed him to the idea.

"Harry, I bet she knows anyway," I said abruptly.

"How?" he asked in shock, Ron and Remus looking just as bemused.

"Living with the Malfoys. Lucius Malfoy, if anyone, knows who is innocent and who isn't."

Thus the meeting was arranged and sealed, although Remus had a request.

"Let's not mention this to either Sara or Snuffles, would that be all right?"

"Why not?" Ron asked.

"First off, whether Sara is my niece or not, she is completely alone, and I'd hate to get her hopes up for a scrap of family and then have it dashed if we're wrong." Very tactful, I noted - if we're wrong, not if you're wrong. "And then… I, er, never told anyone, even Snuffles, that Ritchie had a daughter. I'm not sure how to break it to him, but let's not in case we don't have to, all right?"

Harry gazed up at him levelly. "If you want, but you should tell him."

It was only as Harry said this that I noticed that he had gotten a little bossy lately. Maybe he was always like that, I don't know, but definitely he has gotten a tad more assertive. I'm not sure if I like it.


15 March

How many plans lately go off without a hitch? Not many, it seems, but today was very nearly one of them. The only snag is a mountain of homework that shall make this entry as short and to the point as I can bear to do so.

Ron and Harry talked with Sara and asked if she would mind meeting an infamous murderer and a werewolf. As you may guess, Sara was skeptical and then very game (although had she not already known or suspected Sirius was innocent, I doubt that would have been the case). She even volunteered to be the lookout when the boys described the cave we would probably be going to, as it would look less suspicious if she was found wandering around alone.

Lovely day. Sun, breeze, blue sky. Puffy white clouds. Chilly, though, and snow in little grey puddles and heaps here and there. And as we climbed up the mountain pass (no one met us there this time; Sirius just told us to meet him there), the snow grew thicker and the air wetter. I was glad Sirius had been ordered by Dumbledore not to stay there chronically any longer. It was miserable in that cave when Ron, Harry, and I stumbled in. And somewhat heartbreaking to see that Sirius and Remus looked completely comfortable and used to the damp snow clinging to them.

Sirius snatched Harry up in a rib-crunching hug. (Sirius is no threat to us unless he is showing Harry affection. Then… watch out.)

"Hi, Sirius," Harry grinned happily.

The happy reunion/rendezvous only lasted as long as it took for someone to explain that Sara was coming. Sirius lost his expression of joy and narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"You can't just bring anyone here," he said sternly.

"Just - Just wait a moment," Harry implored. "She can be trusted, okay?"

"What's her name again?" Sirius asked grumpily, still obviously angry with Harry, and Ron and me, but not knowing how to show it.

"Sara Blustovadk."

"That foreign Ministry worker, Muggle office," Sirius mused. "Jimmy Blustovadk, wasn't it? I never knew he was married, was he, Moony?"

Remus shook his head.

"He adopted Sara," Harry explained.

Sirius raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "Why? No, don't answer that - probably wanted a tax deduction and slave, not a kid."

The rest of us exchanged glances while Sirius wasn't looking.

"Either way, Mr. Black, I was also taught to keep my mouth shut tight and know you're innocent anyway, so I promise to be quiet and lie low," Sara spoke up from behind us. Sirius startled and stared at her. "I'm sorry if I was abrupt. No one is around or followed." She stopped uneasily as she noticed Sirius's stare.

Sirius murmured something under his breath, the nature of which I doubt I even want to know. "You're not her?"

"I am Sara Blustovadk, sir." Sara smiled wryly. "No, Mr. Blustovadk never attempted any experimental Muggle products on me, so I'm still fairly normal."

Ron snorted.

"Re-Remus," Sirius said, eyes still fixed on Sara in shock, "in all our months putting up with each other lately, you never, ever mentioned to me that you had gotten married."

"I hadn't," Remus said, voice just about as devoid of expression. He was staring at Sara as well.

She turned to the voice and stared back at Remus, mouth partly open. Finally she got a grip on herself. "Hello. Professor Lupin, I take it," she said, with a forced smile that didn't quite show.

There was a moment where no one said anything, and Ron, Harry, and I just savoured the moment, secretly proud of what we had created.

"All right," Sara said at long last, swallowing. "I feel as if everyone knows something I don't, because he" - she motioned to Sirius - "seems looks as though he has seen the ghost of Christmas past, and I feel like I'm seeing something similar, but everyone else doesn't look too shocked, just a little smug and pleased. Even you, sir," she nodded to Remus, "don't seem incredibly surprised, unless you're very good at hiding emotions."

"He is," Sirius agreed, sharp and shaky at the same time, "but I agree. I feel as if I'm being had. Could someone please explain?"

"Remus, Sara," I said quietly, "I think you can both figure it out."

Remus, feeling ever-responsible, tried to speak, but it didn't work out well past the first couple of words. Finally Sara wrenched her eyes away from her look-alike and reached into the pocket of her fifthhand robes.

"Excuse me, sir, but I think you might know something about this," she said quietly, pressing an old-fashioned chain watch into his hands, one with a large face and made out of what looked to be a nickelish metal. Sirius looked at it and sputtered.

"Remus, how'd she get that?" he demanded.

"I sent it to her, Sirius." Remus held it in a daze. "It was my grandfather's - I told you that, right?"

"Yeah." Sirius was grinning sheepishly. I figured this was another long Marauderic story that I may or may not want to know all the details about. "Old Donnelly heirloom and your mother supposedly kept it guarded by dragons. What's that to do with anything? - wait." Sirius's eyes worked shrewdly. "So it would make sense for her to be a Donnelly…"

"A Nond, actually. Now can we stop talking about her as if she wasn't here?"

We all grinned. "Thanks," Sara said shakily.

"Did your father give this to you?" Remus asked her.

"No. He threw it away, and I kept it ever since. I was really little then, maybe three. You're his brother, right?"

"Wait a second!" Sirius cried. "This isn't - this isn't Ritchie's daughter?"

Ron started to clap sardonically. "Now you're getting somewhere!" I lowered my head to hide my amusement.

Sirius rounded on us. "What do you three know about this?"

"Us?" I pretended to look innocent.

"Nothing," Harry said quickly. "Although you do know we're lying, right?"

Sirius shook his head. "How long?"

"A week," Ron replied.

"They helped me confirm it Sunday," I added.

"Told Remus just a couple of days ago," Harry supplied.

Sirius glanced sideways. "If he wasn't so occupied right now, I'd give that bastard what-for," he said affectionately.

Occupied he was. Remus and Sara were slowly moving toward a honest-to-goodness conversation.

"I've a question, though," Ron said to Sirius, quietly, so as not to disturb them. "What's a Nond?"

"A surname."

Ron blinked. "How can that be, if - "

"Do you know about Remus's father?"

"Yeah, the bloody git ran off," Ron nodded.

"A few years before Hogwarts - let's see, if Remus was bitten when he was five, it was about two years after that - Lola - Remus's mum, the loveliest woman you'll ever meet - meet Chris Lupin, a discharged Hit Wizard. Although Chris suspected Lola of being connected to a long list of crimes- and, mind you, he was right about some of them, like harbouring a werewolf - " Sirius grinned " - he ignored those small details and they got married. I remember Chris well - temper to match my own and about as much logic, so we never got along but I liked him. And he was more of a real dad to Remus than Rick bloody Nond ever was."

"Oh, goodness," I murmured, trying to imagine having Chris "I-didn't-mean-to-blow-up-the-entire-swamp-of-Red-Lion" Lupin as a dad. As neither Ron nor Harry knew of him, they didn't know why I was shaking my head.

Sirius started getting around to the original reason he had wanted to talk with us, and Remus and Sara, the Always-Courteous, quieted to listen as Sirius warned us against Christina Drothl. I felt a little proud of myself for already making most of the conclusions.

"Fredrick Drothl was a friend of my dad's," Sirius grimaced, "and personal medi-wizard of the family, not because Drothl made any of us feel safe, mind you, but because the Blacks just had to have the best in Europe. Drothl did know his medi-stuff inside and out. Unfortunately, he was always a bit more interested in creating diseases and illnesses than curing them."

"Like Drothimites?"

Sirius stared. "Hermione, you're always a step ahead. Like Drothimites. I'm still not sure if it's completely wiped out - "

"There was only one case of that, a little five-year-old boy," I replied.

Sirius grinned caustically. "I know. That was me." He looked amused at my shock. "I told you, he was our doctor. He gave me the injection when I complained of a sore throat or something. But don't worry, I wasn't ill just then. He was too clever for that. It didn't even show up until my second year, when finally he got tired of waiting and stopped giving me the potions to prevent it from activating, which he said were for some of my non-existent allergies."

"Why?" I demanded angrily. "You were just some innocent little kid!"

Harry snorted.

"Well, innocent of anything other than wrecking havoc," I corrected.

"He and my dad were in a stupid quibble about money or something, so he figured if I died - if, mind you, it wasn't tested - it would serve old Arisuis Black right. Thus I spent two lousy months in the hospital wing and eventually got fed up, and, with the help of a few friends and one very weak-backboned teacher, managed to combat the Drothimites and send it back to his creator. Drothl died and I got to play hero for a day. Pity, though, his wife is still good and kicking, and apparently not even exiled from the country any more."

He turned to Harry seriously. "Harry, Doctor Drothl always had his fingers in any Dark political pie he could find, and I doubt the Death Eaters were an exception. Voldemort would be mightily interested in your Defence teacher - "

"Is he ever not?" Ron asked under his breath.

" - so keep a sharp eye out and do not trust her. I don't know what you think of her now - "

"I think she's a unfair and miserable old bat who likes to share her moods," Harry said simply. "Remus, you have no competition, by the way."

"Stop it with all the too-broad hints, you," Remus said, not sounding as stern as he had tried.

"Either way, don't turn your back on her a minute," Sirius finished. "And can everyone stop interrupting me?"

We laughed at that.

The Poll For Chapter Twenty:

Pacing. Too fast, too slow, double-quick or too dragged out? It's long and windy, does it keep interest?