Minerva sank back in her chair, unsure whether she dared believe the news brought to her by Alex Potter, Head Boy and current Seeker of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, but currently most of all cousin of James Potter, possibly the most troublesome first-year she had ever been confronted with. Unbelievable though it seemed to her, there were five students missing by now, including the one Minerva had been looking for all day - without success. Young Snape had not turned up. And now this.
'How long have they been gone?'
'Two hours, presumably,' said Potter, 'perhaps more. No one can tell. They seem to have taken one of the tunnels, but once again, no one knows which one.'
'This is ridiculous,' said Minerva exasperatedly. 'No one ever knows anything! And these tunnels are a leak in our security system. Convenient though they may seem tae ye students. I shall talk to the Headmaster about caving them in.'
'Haven't you done that before?' grinned Potter. 'I seem to remember you mentioning he won't listen to you.'
'Don't ye get smart with me, boy,' she snapped. 'I shall tell him exactly what has happened today, and he will understand. We cannot have our students wandering about Hogsmeade at night. Don't ye agree?'
'Of course, Professor. No doubt about that.'
'Where can they have gone?' sighed Minerva, suddenly in the mood of deep consideration. 'You know your cousin. You must know what he might be up to?'
'I don't know him that well, Professor,' said Potter quietly. 'Our parents have never been on very friendly terms. His father seems to think mine got a bit carried away with his Quidditch ambitions. Fair point, if you ask me. And then there is the age difference, see? James is almost seven years younger than I am.'
'I see,' muttered Minerva. 'But what do you suggest? What am I to do now?'
'Find Snape,' replied Potter in a calm voice. 'I don't know my cousin that well, but if he is anything like his father, he'll survive out there. And who knows - find Snape and you might catch the others on his heels.'
Minerva sighed. She had the feeling that the Head Boy was right in assuming that her four first-year boys had gone to look for the young Slytherin.
'Very well, Potter,' she said. 'Go and see how the counting is going, please. I shall have to try and contact the Headmaster another time. I cannot believe that as soon as he has gone to London five students disappear from our midst. And tell Professor Sprout she'll have to hand in her register tonight, or I shall not get any sleep at all.'
Potter nodded. 'Yes, Professor. And - don't worry.'
Minerva nodded and watched the boy leave her office. When he had gone, she leaned back in her chair, reciting every spell she could think of that had to do with finding people that had gone missing, but they were just no good here. There were so many spells and enchantments in the air around Hogwarts that any spell sensitive enough to track down a missing student was of no use whatsoever.
'Blast all magic,' she muttered, staring into her little fireplace. 'When ye need it most...'
It knocked.
'In,' she said, realizing that she sounded ill-tempered. Well, and if, she thought. She was. So what was the point pretending that she was happy with five students making their way through Hogsmeade, possibly in great danger, or, indeed, dead already?
'You don't look very alive,' said the voice of Mandragora Sprout, standing in the doorframe, holding a little role of parchment. 'I have come to let you know that half my students are missing.'
'WHAT?!?'
Before she could help it Minerva had jumped up from her chair. Then she realized that this could not possibly be and gave her colleague a flabbergasted look, who was grinning broadly and handing her the parchment.
'Relax,' she said in her usual Professor-Sprout-I-worry-about-nothing manner. 'They're complete. And so are the Ravenclaws. Emeric sends his love. Stochastica is still a bit off-colour, but I suppose she'll get better as soon as she hears about your missing ones. Who was it again?'
'Potter, Black, Pettigrew and Lup-' recited Minerva automatically, but stopped before she had finished the last name. One look into Mandy's eyes told her that her colleague had just had the same thought as she had. What was the moon tonight? Minerva whipped out her wand and held it up into the air.
'Lunares,' she muttered, producing a white, silvery orb hovering in the middle of the room. 'Merlin help us,' she whispered. 'It is full-moon tonight.'
Both Professors needed a few moments before they could speak again.
'What are we to do?' whispered Mandy. 'Everyone is in great danger. Especially Potter and Black.'
'Don't forget young Pettigrew,' added Minerva. 'And Snape, should they find him. This is a mess. I -' Her glance fell on her broomstick in the corner behind the larger bookshelf and she made up her mind. 'I am going to look for them. From the air.'
'No way!' gasped Mandragora. 'You could be seen!'
'There are spells to prevent that, you know,' snapped Minerva. 'And anyway. This is an emergency. The only thing I'll have to be careful not to do is to cross the barrier. Well, I don't suppose I'll have to do that. They wouldn't be as foolish as to invade Muggle territory, would they?'
Mandy shook her black curls and retreated, while Minerva snatched her broomstick from the corner and hurried off to search the nightly Hogsmeade from a bird's perspective.
'No, seriously? I'm serious, you know. You can't mean you're serious!'
'Will you shut up? It was just a suggestion!'
Sirius was clearly angry now. Remus thought it might not be such a good idea to provoke the only member of the group who was capable of reading a map properly, but as usual he was too intimidated to step in. James was laughing wildly, making up new puns every other minute. Remus was concerned, Peter entertained.
'I seriously don't see a reason to call you Sirius,' laughed James. 'And if there were a hundred Blacks in this world. That still doesn't make you special!'
'There are a hundred Blacks in this world,' snarled Sirius. 'And I am special. Shut up.'
'So that makes as many Blacks as doxies,' chuckled James. 'I wish there was a Blackicide or something to get rid of -'
'You want to do this on your own?' shouted Sirius, thrusting the map into James's hands. 'Fine! I'll go home, then.'
And he turned.
'You can't go home without us,' yelled James, trying to get the map into any apparent order. 'They'll skin you alive. And you can't tell on us either, because it's your expulsion as much as ours.'
He was right. Sirius knew it.
'Well, stop rambling if you want me to help,' he said indignantly. 'I was merely stating that Black is the surname. And that there is hundreds of them. Yes, meaning that it is not much of a distinction if you call me that.'
'I think you're angry because you haven't got a single letter from your daddy for the last six months,' said James teasingly. 'You have been disappointed by your saint family and you don't want to be reminded of it all the time.'
Remus held his breath. He felt James had gone a step too far, seeing Sirius stop, turn, and walk towards him, his hands clutched to fists as he went. James made the same observation. All of them were quite aware that, if Sirius decided to beat James up right now, there was little any of them could do about it, considering that Sirius was almost twelve inches taller than him and a lot heavier than any of them. But he did not. Less than a foot away from James's face Sirius stopped, grabbed the front of his opponent's robes and pulled him close.
'That's true,' he said slowly and very dangerously. 'Now - is that enough for you, or do I have to box your ears to make you drop your little game?'
'It's alright, mate,' said James grinningly. 'No need to get angry.'
'I am angry,' growled Sirius, letting go of James's robes. 'And I am not your mate. Now, shut up about my family. You are a damn good flyer, but that doesn't mean you can treat other people like dirt. Especially not me.'
Remus had the feeling that Sirius had just made a big step forward, meaning that he had, for the first time since they knew him, not finished a sentence with a hint towards his heritage. Perhaps, Remus thought, he had actually meant his request of calling him Sirius. Perhaps he had realized how odd it was that they all addressed each other by their first name, save for him. He was a Gryffindor, after all.
Perhaps, though, Remus thought, and he thought it the most likely possibility, Sirius had wanted to make an example of James. Had wanted to make a point. Well, he thought, glancing at Peter's harassed expression, grinning to himself as he did, he had certainly succeeded. But Peter was not staring at James and Sirius.
'Look,' he gasped, pointing at two lights, coming towards them along the dark, deserted street. 'Look at that! What is it?'
'Damn!'
In a fraction of a second Remus had grabbed both, James and Sirius, and pulled them into the ditch, whereas Peter had just enough time to follow them down there, before a car went by them at top speed, heading into the direction where they remembered Hogsmeade to be. Only that there was no Hogsmeade.
'We must have crossed the magical border,' panted Sirius, grinning from ear to ear. 'Excellent.'
'That means we're on Muggle territory,' answered Remus in a low voice. 'Listen, if we don't want to attract attention, we'll have to -'
But that was as far as he got, because James and Sirius had already reassumed their way towards the glittering lights of what seemed to be the Muggle village of Hampton. Four-hundred and eighty inhabitants, Remus recalled, every single one of them unaware of their closeness to the wizarding world.
'Wait for me,' he shouted, catching up in a run. 'Where're we going next?'
Sirius and James had unfolded the map once more and were obviously trying to make some sense out of the small lines and dots spread all over it.
'This is it,' said Sirius suddenly. 'This is the farm.'
'What farm?' requested Peter.
'That one,' replied Remus, pointing at a small cottage in front of them. 'What's it called?'
'Grapes Loppice Farm,' muttered Sirius. 'It's bound to be inhabited by Muggles. Let's go and ask them whether they have seen a little slimeball roll by their cottage.'
'You can't get Muggles involved. Professor McGonagall will be after your blood.'
'We won't find him, unless we follow his track!' snarled Sirius. 'How are we supposed to know he even came this way? He might have taken any direction. ... That one, for instance.' And he pointed at a footpath to his right. James nodded.
'Yeah, but still...'
'He has,' muttered Remus suddenly. 'He went this way. I am sure.'
'What?' James was clearly not in the mood for taking chances. 'How d'you know, Remus. Footprints again?'
'I can feel it,' said Remus uneasily, suddenly very aware of the chilly evening air that surrounded him. 'What day is it?'
'Sunday,' said James sharply. 'For another couple of hours. What's wrong with you? You have been acting weird all day.'
'I -' Remus stopped and threw a frightened glance at the clouded sky. He had just had a very unpleasant thought. 'I just think we should find Snape and return as quickly as possible - while there's still some daylight left.'
And he walked off into the direction which he was sure Snape had taken.