Okay, I know it's been quite a long wait again. *sigh* I'm awfully sorry and as always I remain in the hope that the next chapter will be out more quickly. which I sincerely hope, because most of it is written already, but I've said that often enough before an...well, we all know that I've been a bit lengthy with my updates.

But here's chapter 19 for a start. And I promise, no cliffhanger this time.  Well, except from the bits of the last cliffhanger that remain unsolved so far, but hopefully this chapter will be a bit better on your nerves.

And so, without further ado:

Enjoy!

A Father's Worst Fears

Kingsley Shacklebolt was both unnerved and angry at the moment. He didn't like to be told by others what to do and what not, and especially he did not like dealing with family members during his operations. They always tended to complicate things, emotional involvement was certainly not something an Auror needed to deal with on top of everything else. It always made his work far more difficult than it had to be.

But Richard Lupin had been right with one thing, they did not have time for lengthy discussions and so he had grudgingly agreed to take him along. But if that man only made a step into the wrong direction, if he only attempted to involve himself in their operation, Kingsley himself would have him stunned, bound up and sent back to the Ministry within a heartbeat. Preferably by a portkey set to transport him immediately into one of the Ministry's holding cells in the basement. No matter how worried the man was about his sons.

Kingsley knew Remus from the resistance during the first war against Voldemort, he knew that Richard Lupin's younger son was intelligent as well as competent when it came to defending himself or battling an opponent, maybe even more so than a couple of men in his unit, and he was also aware that Remus' older brother exceeded even those abilities. Janus Lupin had a reputation in the DMLE, and he had not gotten that reputation for nothing. Kingsley did not know the father of those two men, but what he remembered from conversations long in the past was that Richard Lupin was definitely neither an expert on Dark Arts – apart from the knowledge which having a werewolf for a son gave him – nor was he an experienced dueller. If Kingsley remembered right, he was an accountant or something equally theoretical, and he could not deal with somebody like that interfering with his operations.

But as the portkey deposited him and his squad in front of the old Riddle Mansion, he noticed that the rear guard had already instructed Richard Lupin and that he had withdrawn from the immediate proximity of the mansion. Good, one worry less on Kingsley's list. Not that it grew a lot shorter through that one small point, but at least it was something.

Shaking those thoughts from his mind for the moment, Kingsley turned around and raised his hand to gesture for his units to take up their previously assigned positions. A *crack* to his left announced him that Dumbledore had arrived. Kingsley turned towards him, seeking reassurance in his former headmaster's face. He was not overly surprised when he found none, Dumbledore's face looked just as strained as he himself was feeling. Tension was hanging thickly in the air, felt by both of them and probably by each and every single Auror who had come along with them. Dumbledore looked at Kingsley.

"Your men are ready?"

Kingsley nodded. "Yes, they're just waiting for instructions."

"We don't know exactly where we have to go once we're inside, but still I don't think it would be wise to come banging in through only one entrance."

"I thought as much already, I was thinking about sending one third of the men in through the back."

"Good. Then we should not wait any longer, I'm afraid we're already running out of time."

Without another word Kingsley gestured towards the right and a group of Aurors separated from the others, rounding the building in search of the back entrance. Kingsley took a deep breath, then with another last look at his men mouthed "Go!" and followed Dumbledore into the Riddle House.

Kingsley needn't have worried about where to head once they had entered the house, they could easily let the sounds guide them. But the worrisome thing about it was, at least that was what Kingsley thought, that it were definite battle-sounds that were guiding them. Dumbledore had not given him all that much information to work with, but from all that he knew no attempt to resurrect the Dark Lord would involve shouting curses all through the house. Except if there was somebody trying to prevent exactly that, and then they had come just in time. Or so Kingsley hoped

With a speed that belied his old age, Dumbledore headed forward towards a set of doors from behind which the sounds seemed to come. He waved his wand at it and the door-wings opened even before he had reached them. And somehow, from the mere way in which the air seemed statically charged with magic around the old wizard, Kingsley knew that it would have taken any of his men, himself included, far more time and much more power than a mere 'Alohomora' to get that door open. Dumbledore hurried through, and Kingsley followed suit after one last gesture towards his men which told them to stay in formation and keep to the standard battle-plan. Keep together in groups of three, and don't let them get to your backs.

Kingsley entered the room together with two Aurors from his own unit, men he knew for a long time already and on whom he could rely completely, and despite all his years of experience he had to swallow at what he saw. The room was a mess. In the centre a huge cauldron seemed to have been dropped, its contents spilled out across the room. Unmoving figures were lying seemingly everywhere, their number increasing with every moment his men were in the room charging onto the Death Eaters who were present, and in the corner to where three units of Aurors were now heading a battle still seemed to be going on. But what really worried Kingsley was that somebody who was not wearing the Death Eaters' standard black robes was lying near the fireplace to his left in a puddle of blood, and three Death Eaters were still closing in on somebody else in the far off corner to his left, seemingly not noticing that Aurors had arrived or for the moment not caring about it. With a nod of his head Kingsley sent two of the units behind him over to the unmoving man on the floor to find out who he was and to administer first aid. In case that was still necessary of course, because Kingsley was not all that sure that there was still enough life left in the man to save anything, there was simply far too much blood on the floor. But there were men to take care of that now, what was going on in the corner of the room had him worried far more at the moment. Kingsley immediately hurried over towards the three Death Eaters to his left who were by now already disarmed, bound up and ready to be portkeyed to the Ministry holding cells. Leaving his men to do that, Kingsley stepped forward to take a closer look at what the Death Eaters had been so interested in. As his men sent the Death Eaters away and his view on their aim was unobstructed, Kingsley for the first time in a couple of years wished that the Ministry policy did not forbid him to do criminals any more harm than stunning them, if not absolutely necessary.

"Sanders, we're going to need healers here, and over there at the fireplace as well."

"We've got two teams waiting in the hall, but they're instructed to wait until the scene is officially declared safe..."

Whatever Sanders had wanted to add was quickly forgotten at the glare Kingsley shot him. They didn't have time for that now. At that moment, a resounding *crack* was vibrating throughout the room, followed by a couple of loud and rather unpleasant exclamations and profanities from his men. Without looking for confirmation Kingsley guessed that the still conscious Death Eaters who had not been transported away yet must have apparated away, whether by their own decision or by some previously arranged backup-plan Kingsley did not know, but right now he didn't care about that. This had not so much been a mission for imprisonment as a rescue-mission, and he wanted to make sure that they had not been here completely in vain.

The tall Auror immediately knelt down next to Remus' prone form, his hand stretching out in search for a pulse. Remus was bleeding rather badly from a nasty-looking wound on the back of his head, he was as pale as Death himself and if he was still breathing, then so flatly that Kingsley could not immediately see it. If his physical condition had already been as bad as Dumbledore said it had been before he had come here, then Remus needed medical help, and fast. There was still a pulse, but still Kingsley didn't want to risk anything with him.

Remus was lying on his side, curled up around the body of a child whom he held tightly in his arms even in his unconscious state. Harry. Kingsley could not remember that he had ever seen the child, but he immediately recognized him, after all he was Harry Potter. Everybody knew Harry Potter. There was the possibility that he had seen him before, during the first war when James and Lily Potter had been in the Order of the Phoenix with him, but there had been so much to do, and so little time to care about other members' private lives. Besides, there had always been the one or the other Weasley toddler crawling around headquarters, maybe he had seen Harry and thought him to be one of them, redhead or not. But everybody knew Harry Potter, and chances were not really big that there was another seven-year old child here this night.

The child was unconscious, clad in a dirty and torn pair of blue pyjamas, and he seemingly had bumps, bruises and scratches all over. But what seemed to be worst was Harry's left arm which somehow didn't look right. It wasn't standing away in a wrong angle, but still it didn't look all healthy to Kingsley. But that was something the healers should sort out.

He heard somebody approach from behind and come to a halt right behind him. Supposing it was Sanders who had returned from calling in the healers he spoke without turning around.
"How many did we get?"

"Not nearly half of them", Dumbledore replied while Kingsley spun around in mild shock. It was dangerous to let his guard down like that, even when the situation seemed safe. The old headmaster crouched down next to Remus and Harry, placing a hand on Harry's forehead for a short moment and closed his eyes, just as if he was able do discern the child's health by the small gesture alone. When he withdrew the hand he seemed a slight bit more relaxed.
"Let's make room for the healers, and I think you want to talk to your men. Also, there is another thing I want you to see, I think the situation might be a bit more complicated than I initially anticipated."

With a nod of his head Kingsley got up from his knees and stepped back so that the arriving healers could examine the two of them and then transport Remus and Harry to a hospital. Dumbledore, however, went over and talked lowly to one of the healers before he followed Kingsley through the room.

"What was that all about?", Kingsley questioned Dumbledore. The older man merely shrugged slightly.

"I only asked the healers not to bring the injured to St. Mungo's, but to the Hogwarts infirmary. There are still too many unanswered questions, I would not feel comfortable with them being in a public hospital right now. Not after there were Death Eaters who escaped tonight."

Kingsley nodded, though he did not completely understand what Dumbledore was so worried about. But in the end it didn't matter, as the Hogwarts infirmary was well enough equipped for the healers they had brought to work in, and if there was one thing Kingsley had always trusted in, then it was that Dumbledore knew what he was doing. So he silently followed the old headmaster across the room to another group of his men who were standing clustered around somebody lying on the floor.

"All right", Kingsley said loudly, pushing through his men, "what is going on here?"

He needn't have asked. Kingsley immediately recognized the man who was lying on the floor, bound up and from the looks of it either stunned or unconscious. Of course there had never been an official notice about the raid in Azkaban, but he had been told a couple of things by Dumbledore.

"Fine, we got Black again. Take two men and portkey him to the Ministry, inform the Minister and get him back to Azkaban as quickly as possible."

Somebody put a hand on his shoulder and as Kingsley turned around he found that Dumbledore was standing beside him and was shaking his head.
"Hold that order for a moment, will you? As I said, there is something that might complicate things a little."

Kingsley would not have accepted somebody correcting his orders in front of his men from anybody else, but he merely raised a slightly annoyed eyebrow at the older man. If Dumbledore said that, then there was something else worth considering before they carted Black off to the Ministry again, though Kingsley had a hard time imagining what that could possibly be.

"All right, hold that order. Keep a close eye on him until I come back."

The men took his orders with slightly confused expressions on their faces, but nobody said anything. It was an order, they would follow it, no matter if it made sense or not.

Kingsley followed Dumbledore through the room, his feet making wet sucking noises as he walked through the liquid which had spilled from the cauldron earlier on. For a fleeting moment he thought what could have possibly been in that cauldron, but then decided that it would be better not to know. Not really. Dumbledore halted next to where another of the healers was working on somebody whom Kingsley had not even noticed before. Normally the Auror had a knack for grasping entire situations immediately, so he wondered quite a bit why he had not noticed the man lying on the ground in front of the healer before. But as much as he wondered about it, he knew that an explanation would come in given time. But still...

"Albus, I don't see why this should have any influence on me bringing Black back into custody. What is going on here?"

Dumbledore looked sadly down at the man to their feet, his eyes distant and unreadable for a long moment before he looked up again and focussed his eyes on Kingsley.

"I don't see what exactly should complicate matters here", Kingsley continued. "All right, we have an unidentified Death Eater lying on the ground, with injuries of which we don't know where they stem from, but what is the point of all this?"

"The point", Dumbledore answered slowly, "is that this man is Peter Pettigrew."

Kingsley stared at the headmaster for a moment, then looked down at the unconscious man again. Peter Pettigrew? He remembered him from a couple of years ago, the small, chubby man who had always hung around with James Potter and the others. But this man on the floor looked different, older, more strained even in his unconsciousness. And most importantly – Pettigrew was dead for more than five years now.

"But Albus..."

Dumbledore nodded and raised a hand to stop what Kingsley was about to say. "I know. I know what you want to say, believe me. I can't explain it myself. But I am sure that this here is Peter Pettigrew, unless some treachery is involved which I at the moment cannot find any reasons for. Peter is supposed to be dead, as I am sure you know, but if he is here now, alive unlike everything we were told before, then you will surely see why this complicates matters about Mr. Black's imprisonment."

Kingsley slowly nodded. If Pettigrew was still alive, then Black had not killed him. Period. No other possible explanation. But then again Black had not been in prison merely for the murder of his friend, there had been twelve muggles that had also died because of him. He turned towards his former headmaster, his gaze every bit as disbelieving and confused as he felt right now.

"But what would you want me to do? It's not as if I could decide what further happens to Black, no matter if this really is Pettigrew or not. We surely can't leave Black here, and as soon as Fudge gets his bearings and sends somebody else in charge here, he'll be back in Azkaban in no time."

"Have two of your most trusted men bring him to St. Mungo's with me. I'll organize for him to be brought into a secured ward. I want to have him examined before Cornelius can do anything to send him back without further investigation. Something here does not add up, and before I'm not completely convinced that he belongs into Azkaban I'm not willing to let him brought there. It would be far more difficult to get him out there again than it will be to hide him from Cornelius' influence until everything is cleared up."

Kingsley stood with his hands against his hips and his gaze directed towards the far-off wall for a long moment and thought about what Dumbledore was asking him to do. It would be a severe breach of protocol, that much was clear. As long as there was no absolute need to do otherwise, any prisoner was to be brought to the Ministry holding cells and not into a hospital. And from what Kingsley had seen, Black had not suffered any injuries that would demand him to be brought to a hospital, there was nothing wrong with him that could not wait until the standard medical examination every ministry captive had to go through in the first hours after being brought to the Ministry. He could get into serious trouble if he brought Black to St. Mungo's now.

But then again he would already get into deep trouble for taking half the Auror capacities of the Ministry to an unofficial mission under Dumbledore's orders anyway, so he didn't have all that much to lose. After a final moment of hesitation, he nodded.

"All right, I'll send Henderson and Kraft along with you."

"Thank you, Kingsley. I'm convinced it will be the right thing to do. And if it turns out that I'm wrong, I'll make it explicitly clear that I didn't leave you any chance to decide otherwise."

Kingsley only nodded again, not sure if that would help any should Dumbledore prove to be wrong. He didn't know if it was the right thing he was doing, and normally Kingsley trusted his own judgement above anybody else's, but right now he decided to trust Dumbledore's judgement above his own. With slightly hesitant steps he walked over to Henderson and Kraft to tell them what they were supposed to do. Once the two Aurors had agreed to accompany the old wizard to St. Mungo's, Kingsley told the remaining men who were still guarding Black to go and help securing the mansion.
The healers were still working over Remus and Harry, another group of healers working frantically on the third man on the ground who Kingsley guessed by now was Janus Lupin. He had not seen the older Lupin brother anywhere so far, and though he didn't have a complete overview over the situation yet, Kingsley was sure that Janus Lupin was not amongst the people who were still standing around here in the room. Time to remedy that situation.

The doors to the chamber were guarded, half of his men had set out into the other rooms of the mansion to make sure that no ugly surprises were awaiting them there, the fireplace was disabled and guarded, so nobody got into this chamber without him noticing. Good. The Death Eaters which had been captured had been brought into the holding cells in small groups by now, which was also good, but that had not been many and probably more than half of them had escaped before they could be disarmed and restrained. Not so good, but nothing he could do about that now.

Apart from the healers which were working on the injured, attempting to bring them into a condition stable enough for portkey transportation, the only other activity was that of the groups of his men which were busy investigating the scene already, trying to find out what exactly had taken place.

Kingsley was a bit surprised when he found Lucas Spalding standing not far away from the fireplace, surprised not because the Unspeakable appeared to be relatively unharmed, but because he was not being questioned to the events of the night by Kingsley's men.

A frown on his face, Kingsley gestured for Sanders to come over.

"Why is nobody interrogating Spalding?"

Sanders pulled a face as if Kingsley had just told him to arrest Father Christmas. "We tried to pull him aside for questioning, more than once. But have you ever tried to interrogate that man? It'd be easier to talk to a brick-wall, I can tell you that. He said he'd talk to us when he had time for it and wasn't occupied with other things. And that is the translation of what he really said, because I would not repeat half of the words he used in mixed company, and certainly not one single word of what he said in the presence of my mother. That man can make even the word 'and' sound like a curse."

Kingsley grimaced. Aurors and Unspeakables were hardly ever on good terms with each other, and cooperation between the two departments was never really good. He should have expected something like that. He had half a mind to send two or three of his men over and arrest the man for questioning, but then he saw how Spalding was standing next to where the healers were still treating his partner, noticed how the tall man's posture was somewhat stooped, his face shockingly pale, how he was nervously biting his fingernails while he watched the healers. They had not managed to stop the bleeding on Lupin's side completely, and though Kingsley had not really any medical experience he realized that Lupin's chances for survival did not seem all that good. Unspeakable or not, Kingsley could sympathize with what Spalding was experiencing now, Kingsley himself would not ever want to be in such a position. If people in their line of work chose to work together in pairs, the connection between the partners was always more than a mere working-relationship, trust and personal involvement ran deep in those pairs. Loosing a partner was an emotional setback some never recovered from. Kingsley had not thought that this applied for the generally more ruthless Unspeakables as well, but what he saw now seemed to prove his thoughts wrong.

"Shall we try to question him again?", Sanders interrupted Kingsley's musings, a slight note of hesitation in his voice. It was obvious that he was not exactly keen on trying to do so. Kingsley shook his head.

"No, leave him be for the moment. There will be time for that later today, it's not as if he was about to run away."

The relief on Sanders' face spoke volumes as he turned away and got back to what he had been doing before Kingsley had called him over. With an audible sigh Kingsley turned as well and walked over to the doors through which they had entered. The scene was as safe as it would get for now, and he knew that Richard Lupin would probably not have the patience left to wait for any longer. Kingsley would have liked to spare the man what he was about to see when he entered here, especially the sight of his son lying in his own blood while the healers struggled to keep him alive, but from the little he knew of the man he guessed that Richard Lupin would try to sneak in here on his own if nobody came to fetch him. And the last thing he needed today was having to explain why one of his men cursed a civilian who suddenly appeared on a crime-scene.

With a last deep breath Kingsley steeled himself and stepped out of the mansion, his eyes straying around in the darkness in search of Richard Lupin.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

Richard felt as if the past few hours had not really happened. Everything was just too surreal, so completely different from everything that normally happened in his life. And now this found its peak in him taking a portkey to the Riddle House, the place where from all that he knew the wizarding world's most dangerous tyrant ever was supposed to be resurrected. He didn't really know what he was doing here, he was not cut out for something like this. Richard had not suspected Kingsley Shacklebolt to give in all that easily, but once the black wizard had agreed everything had simply happened so fast. And now the portkey deposited him in front of an eerie looking old mansion and Richard didn't even want to think about what was happening to his sons in there right now.

Williams and the other three Aurors who had taken the same portkey as Richard immediately took up their previously determined positions, not paying any attention to the dark aura that seemed to surround the Riddle House, making Richard feel as if it penetrated his inner core and spread a feeling of overwhelming sadness and fear in him. And if the Aurors noticed this as well, they didn't let show. Strangely, this did not really calm Richard any.

Another group of four Aurors formed the rearguard on the other side of the mansion while the remaining Ministry forces prepared to enter the building. Williams gestured for Richard to move away from the mansion towards a small group of hedges that provided him with some distance to the mansion and at least a bit protection in case something happened out here.

Remembering his deal with Shacklebolt, Richard nodded and complied. Earlier, he had promised to stay behind with absolutely no intention of actually doing so, but now that he had arrived he suddenly knew what Shacklebolt had wanted to prevent.

This was way out of his league. Richard desperately wanted to get to where his sons were, but he would indeed probably make things even worse by his presence. He was not a fighter, had no experience in battling, and he also knew that he would never forgive himself if something happened to Janus or Remus because of him.

He saw that Dumbledore arrived in front of the mansion now as well, but the headmaster didn't even bother to look out for him. Richard understood, he had expected nothing else. After a short conversation with Shacklebolt, which Richard could not understand because he was too far away, the Auror in command ordered his squads, and before Richard knew what was happening, a third of them took the way around the mansion to search for another entrance while the others vanished into the darkness that lay behind the front doors. Dumbledore went in first.

Showtime.

Richard could not see the rearguard anymore, so all that was left for him was to wait for what would happen next. Suddenly, Richard felt really old. For the past couple of hours he had been constantly on the edge, adrenaline keeping him attentive and he had had himself pulled relatively well together, but now with nothing to do but wait all the tension drained out of him quickly, leaving nothing but an empty, numb feeling. He was tired, he had not gotten any real sleep during the past two days. And he was scared, scared worse than he could ever remember being. His hands had started to shake, though Richard had not realized when, and unconsciously he started biting his thumbnail, something he only did when he was extremely nervous. With a sigh, Richard stretched his aching legs and stared ahead into the darkness.

Time was creeping.

Never, never in his entire life had time passed by this slowly. Of course, it could be because Richard checked his watch nearly every twenty seconds, but still. Time was creeping. Richard tried to busy his mind with something else, tried to think of something else. Of anything that could divert his thoughts from his sons. It didn't work, his thoughts always kept returning to Janus and Remus, no matter what he did. There had been quite many times before when he had been pacing up and down because of them, constantly checking his watch and waiting for something to happen.

Richard tried to force himself not to think about that now, tried to think of anything but the times when he knew his sons to be safe and healthy, but he seemed to have lost all the power over his thoughts the moment the waiting had begun.

Janus' birth was the first example that came to his mind. He had waited for three and a half hours after Nadine had been brought into the delivery room. Three and a half of horribly, horribly long hours. Three and a half hours of pacing up and down, of drinking cup after cup of horribly tasting coffee from the hospital-dispenser, and of even more pacing before he had been able to hold his son in his arms for the first time. Remus' birth had not been all that much better, but at least then Richard had been able to keep himself occupied with the four year old Janus. And that had been 'happy' waiting, waiting for something that he had been excited about. Time had crept back then as well, but Richard had not been this scared.

The first full moon night after Remus had been bitten by the werewolf had been similar to the nerve-wracking wait now, horrible waiting, fearful waiting. Remus had had barely recovered from his injuries of the werewolf attack when Richard had been forced to lock his five-year old child up for the night, hoping that he would still be alive the next morning. None of the doctors had been very optimistic about that, and Richard had spent the entire night standing in front of the locked and warded basement door, his hands and forehead pressed against the wood and tears streaming down his face. It had always been horrible for him to wait through the full moon nights, but never just as bad as during this first night.

Slightly more than three years later Richard had spent equally horrible hours of waiting in a narrow corridor in front of the Beauxbatons school hospital after Nadine and he had been called there by an extremely confused and agitated headmistress. During a Quidditch match Janus had been busy knocking a Bludger at an opponent and had not seen the second Bludger approach him from behind. The impact with the back of his head had left him unconscious and he had fallen nearly forty feet to the ground before anybody could have reacted. That accident had left Janus with a cracked skull and quite a bad concussion, and it had left Richard and his wife with a horribly long wait before the school-healer had assured them that Janus would recover completely.

He had felt just as helpless on those occasions back then as he did now. Only now it was the life of both of his sons that was at stake. And that of his grandson, if Dumbledore was right in his assumptions.

Richard shook his head and forced himself to stop those thoughts. They would not lead anywhere, he would only drive himself even farther into mental exhaustion. His sons simply had to be alive, he could not imagine anything else. They had to be alive. They simply had to. His sons could not be dead, they could not have been killed out here by Death Eaters without him there to try and help them. If he only told himself often enough that thy were still alive then he might finally start believing it.

After what seemed like another small eternity, Richard saw movement from the front entrance through which the Aurors had entered the house earlier. With bated breath he watched as two Aurors left the house and went over to the two groups of rearguards. Behind them, Kingsley Shacklebolt left the mansion and let his eyes stray through the surroundings as if in search of something. Richard didn't even wait until the tall wizard's eyes had settled on him, he immediately sprinted over to Shacklebolt. The distance was only short, but still Richard felt breathless as he finally stood face to face with the Auror again.

"What about my sons?" He didn't have any time to waste with other questions. Shacklebolt only gestured into the mansion.

"You can come in now, we've declared the scene safe."

"What about my sons?", Richard repeated.

"You'd better see for yourself", was all that Shacklebolt said as he led the way through the hall. Richard followed the Auror into the mansion, something he knew he would not have done under any other circumstances. His feelings of raw fear and claustrophobia increased threefold the moment he stepped over the threshold, and in his mind Richard was contemplating over and over again why Shacklebolt had flat out refused to answer his question about Janus' and Remus' welfare. If there had been a simple answer – like 'they're alive and well' – then surely he would have given it. Richard's stomach jerked horribly, feeling as if an iron fist was slowly squeezing his insides until he thought he had to run out of here immediately. The only thought that kept him going was the knowledge that in a couple of moments he would finally learn what had happened to his sons, and their wellbeing was far more important than his own insignificant fears.

They didn't have to walk long, after turning around one corner Shacklebolt opened a double winged door and they entered some sort of chamber. It was far larger than the chamber from which the Aurors had departed earlier that evening, and at first Richard could not see anything clearly. There were many Aurors standing or walking around, quite a number of them seemed to have apparated away already, and nowhere was a trace of his sons or Harry. But suddenly his eyes fell onto a group of Aurors that blocked his view on what was going on behind it. All he could see was that there were people kneeling on the floor, and there was a hectic urgency in what they were doing. Next to them his son's partner was standing, pale as a ghost, watching what was going on in front of him with a horrified look on his face. There was a smell in the air Richard faintly recognized. Many years ago, the faint trace would have probably reminded him of his time at Beauxbatons, when he had been in detention and had to clean up the copper cauldrons in the Potions classrooms. But after decades of taking care of a lycanthropic son after the full moons, after years and years of treating wounds of all kinds, from small scratches to life-threatening injuries, Richard immediately recognized the slight coppery stench as that of blood in the air. A lot of blood. Richard jumped in shock as somebody put a hand on his shoulder. Shacklebolt was standing next to him, a sympathetic expression on his face.

"They're about to portkey him to Hogwarts. Dumbledore thought it better not to bring him to St. Mungo's, and Madam Pomfrey and the healers will take good care of him, I'm sure of that."

Richard looked completely befuddled for a moment, then he made a step forward to see what was going on. Whom did they want to bring to Hogwarts? Why? What had happened?

Richard didn't even realize that he started shaking all over as his eyes fell onto the scene on the floor. His knees threatened to give out underneath him, but Richard didn't notice that either. In fact it was only Kingsley's grip on his arm that kept him relatively upright during the first moments of the shock.

There was blood, far too much blood, covering the dirty tiles of the stone floor in front of him. And at his feet, in the middle of his own blood, Janus was lying on the floor, pale as a wraith, healers frantically treating to him. Richard tried to focus his gaze enough to find out what exactly was wrong with his son, but found that he could not. He simply could not. What if he took a closer look only to find out that no matter what the healers did, Janus' wounds would prove to be fatal?

But Richard didn't have the time to think even further about that, because at that moment the healers interrupted their treatment, one of them conjured a stretcher under Janus and they all held on to it, only to vanish a moment later.
Richard blinked.

Janus had vanished, only all the blood on the floor still showed that Richard had not only imagined to have seen his son lying there a moment ago. He became aware that somebody was squeezing his shoulder.

"They just brought him to Hogwarts. I'm sure he'll be all right."

Richard had heard far too many platitudes in his life already to believe what Shacklebolt was saying, but he didn't blame the Auror for trying. But another thought occurred to him.

"What about Remus? And where is Harry?"

With a gentle pressure on his shoulder, Shacklebolt steered him through the room. Maybe he thought that after Richard's reaction to seeing Janus it was better to prepare him for what he was about to see this time, because he kept talking to him while they crossed the room to the second group of healers.

"They're alive, both of them. They'll need medical attention, they're both a bit roughed up, but I'm convinced they will be all right in no time."

The words were well meant, but they missed their aim completely because Richard was not listening at all. He only wanted to see what was wrong with his younger son and his grandson, wanted to see it and then he could react to it, his reaction somewhere on a scale between being relieved and breaking down. The healers had already placed Remus and Harry on a conjured stretcher, and as they stepped closer Kingsley was glad that it was hovering slightly above the floor. That way, Richard did not see that Remus' head wound had also bled quite a bit. With a smile Kingsley noticed that the healers had not managed to pry Harry out of Remus' arms, though his dead-grip on the child seemed to have lessened somewhat. One of the healers was just taking Harry's pulse as Richard made a step forward, kneeling down next to the stretcher and running his hand through Harry's messy hair. Startled at the intrusion, the healers looked up in search of an explanation, but Kingsley only nodded at them.

"If possible, take him with you to Hogwarts. He's a relative, it's all right."

There was an answering nod and then one of the healers began talking to Richard, but the older man barely noticed that he was being talked to. His attention was focussed solely on his younger son and his grandson as he knelt next to the stretcher and tried to find out if what Shacklebolt had said was indeed true. In the end, one of the healers held Richard's hand pressed against the handle of the stretcher as another activated the portkey and they vanished towards Hogwarts.

We haven't had any A/N's for quite a long time, had we? Well, let's do it again, unfortunately only for the reviews for chapter 18 (otherwise I'd not have gotten that chapter out within the next fortnight…you guys are great!).

Here we go!

JoeBob1379: So you knew it...sure. If only things were this easy, you know? I won't tell you too much, but I can tell you that it won't be as easy as Padfoot getting up and everything being all right within a moment. Unfortunately not.

Lisande: Well, cliffhangers are the most fun to write, you know? And it isn't that I search for ways to let chapters end on cliffhangers, it's rather that some of those cliffhangers are often the first scenes I write. I don't search those cliffhangers, they somehow seem to find me...You will get to know what happened to Sirius within the next couple of chapters.

As far as Janus is concerned...it's difficult. I love him to bits, but it's difficult. You just have to believe me that if somebody dies in this story it will have a reason.

Tami: Of course you may give me tips, anytime you want. I understand what you say about the crying issue. I already had the discussion once that Remus appears to be a lot weaker in this story than most people see him – and a lot weaker than I from the writer's perspective see him. I guess that I'm sometimes not able to see things the way the readers see them, that's why. But I keep it in mind.

About the killing-issue...well, I don't think I'm afraid to kill somebody. I did, in other stories I killed Dumbledore and Sirius off without a second thought about it. But while I agree with you that angst is best and that those stories which do not shy away from doing the unexpected are most appreciated, I always need a good reason for a character death. That is one of the main reasons why I disagree with how JKR killed Sirius in OoP. The ending of the story is already set, whether it suits the readers or not, and I can promise you that there won't be all that much more action-scenes in it. FairyTale not likes to write action-scenes, not at all.

Wynjara: Thank you! Suspense nearly over, I promise.

Neoma: Thank you!

ZSlyth: Erm...yes? I did stop there, I think. Cliffhanger, fun to write, you know? You thought the chapter was bad? Sorry to hear that, I hope you'll like the next ones better. I'm not all that comfortable with writing action, but that should be over soon. Just as long as you don't think the story is bad...*g* You'll have to wait to see what will happen to Sirius.

anaticulapraecantrix: It was the last time, I promise. Well, at least the last evil cliffhanger of the story. About Sirius you will have to wait until you see, but in good time all will be explained.

Azn A: Thank you! Hope you caught your breath again...*g* Story's nearly over, glad you like it.

Rini Savian-jin: If only people would think up names I could type without looking every single letter up...*sigh* I hope I spelled it correctly, though. Glad you like the story, I know that it's confusing at times, but as long as you think it was still worth the read I'm glad about it.

BalrogsBreath: Sirius/Remus interaction...will have to wait a bit longer. But there will be some more to come. And Janus' fate will be explained in the next two chapters.

Mistri, Tonks' Admirer: That about sums it up very well indeed. Glad you like the mixture. The deal about Sirius and Peter was a bit difficult for me to develop, because as soon as I had settled on one of them being guilty and the other being innocent, I changed my mind and re-wrote those scenes. Now I've settled on a slightly different approach in the hope that my readers will like it. It's not a clear black and white/guilty not guilty distinction anymore, but to see what that means you'll have to wait a bit longer...

I'm glad that you liked the way Richard was behaving, he's surprisingly easy – and very much fun – to write. And I guess his insistence that he's coming for his sons is the only thing keeping him upright at that moment.

Kingsley is one of my favourite characters from OoP, he's fun to play around with. Why that secretary is infatuated with him? Well, he's tall, black, bald, handsome...think: Samuel L. Jackson...hmmmm...oops, was there something I said?

You are right about Fudge's attitude, but to be bluntly honest I did not really want to sit down and spend time thinking about what kind of character he could have been at that time and how he could have changed over the years, that was too much effort for such a small scene. So I decided to take him the way we got to know – and dislike – him from the canon books.

Janus is always doing something stupid, at least from some peoples' point of view. I'm glad you liked the action in the chapter, I'm always a bit worried about writing action. I don't really like it all that much, it's too difficult. Does overturning the cauldron mean that they are both dead for good? No. Explanations? Coming up soon. Thank you!

Lady Arwen of Rivendell: Harry is not actually unconscious, he's rather completely catatonic (if that's the right word), too shocked and stunned to react to anything that is going on around him. Thank you very much, I hope you like the rest of the story as well.

Aeryn Alexander: Well – Janus. Yeah, that's a lot of mortal danger for one person alone (though he's an Unspeakable and not an Auror, but after reading OoP I just might change that). And make that bleeding *badly*. Just so you get the image. you could be right about guessing who gave them back their wands, but that wasn't all that hard to guess. But further explanations are about to come.