Saturday, 16th June 1973

'Mum?' Remus called after stepping out of the fireplace in his front room. The place seemed deserted, but a moment later, she called back from the kitchen.

'Remus? Is that you?' He heard the scrape of chair legs across a tiled floor and a few seconds later she appeared in the doorway, a broad smile on her face that was completely at odds with the tight ball of grief and betrayal sitting in Remus' chest. 'Sorry, I was just having some lunch. Are you hungry?'

Remus hummed. 'Starving,' he said truthfully, as he crossed the room to give her a hug. Her arms wrapped around him without hesitation and he let himself relax into her warmth, taking comfort from the familiar scent that felt like home. 'Missed you.'

He could hear the smile in her voice when she said. 'I missed you, too,' and felt the increase in pressure as she squeezed a little harder before releasing him. 'Your things are in your room. A house-elf dropped them off about an hour ago. I let Rieka and Cosmo out of their travel cages, but I left the rest alone. Why don't you go wash up? It won't take me a few minutes to make you a sandwich. Ham and cheese okay?'

'That sounds perfect,' Remus said, forcing a smile onto his face.

She pulled him into another hug with an, 'Ah, I'm so glad you're home,' before returning to the kitchen and leaving him to get settled. He found Rieka and Cosmo in his room, Rieka sitting on her perch, and Cosmo on his pillow, her tail swishing back and forth as they both eyed each other. With a sigh, he sat on the edge of the bed, pulling Cosmo into his lap and giving her a nuzzle.

'I hope you two aren't going to cause me any trouble this summer,' he said, remembering the previous year when Cosmo had made a game out of stalking the poor owl. 'You both live here, and you need to get along.'

Rieka ruffled her feathers and whistled as if to say, 'Well, I'm not the problem,' and Cosmo just rubbed her face against the back of his hand and meowed.

Placing Cosmo back on the bed with one last scratch behind the ears, Remus stood and walked to the window to open it so the animals could get out if the mood struck, and as he turned away, he caught sight of movement in the corner of his eye. When he looked back, there was nothing there, but he would have sworn there had been a wolf creeping through the trees bordering the garden. Shaking his head—it must just be his mind playing tricks on him—he turned to his trunk and walked over.

He'd join his mum for lunch before he unpacked properly, but there was one thing he wanted to move immediately. Once that was done, he could drink one. And he really wanted to drink one. The memories were making it so hard to act normal, and he didn't want his mum to get worried and start asking questions. It was just for the weekend. Once she went back to work on Monday, he would stop and deal with his feelings, but he needed to be alone for that.

As he opened his trunk, he jerked his head around at the sound of a man's scream. It had come from outside, but when he went to the window, he couldn't see anything and after a minute with no more sound, he shook his head again—stress. It must be stress—and returned to his trunk, digging through until he found the stash of potion wrapped in a jumper at the bottom. With a quick check over his shoulder to make sure his bedroom door was still closed, he pulled it out and crossed to the loose floorboard near the end of his bed, grabbing the metal ruler from his desk drawer on the way to pry it open.

He took a swig first, holding it in his mouth while he lowered the bottle into the hole and pushed the floorboard back into place. Swallowing as he stood back up, he concentrated on the memory of biting the man at Easter. He was pulling a face at the taste in his mouth when he remembered the ruler in his hand and moved towards his desk to put it away. Why it had been on the floor in the first place was a mystery. Maybe Cosmo had been playing with it before he got home. He glanced at her and she blinked at him slowly from her position on his pillow.

'I'm going to have lunch,' he told her. 'Please, leave Rieka alone.'

He was just about to leave when he noticed his Notebook lying on the top of the jumble of things inside his trunk and he grabbed it, flicking through the pages to see if there were any new messages, a smile forming on his lips when he saw the words Sirius had written to him.

Moony, I can't believe you would laugh at our misfortune in such a way. You have no idea the emotional torture I went through when I realised I wouldn't be able to kiss you goodbye. I will ask Peony to bring me to you as soon as I can but don't worry, I'll make sure it's safe. I won't do anything to put our holiday at the Potter's at risk. Reggie tells me he taught you to play chess. You should know, Reggie only plays chess with people he likes, so his doing that was his odd way of saying he accepts you. I miss you already xxx.

It took him a minute of digging around before he found something to write with—a muggle pen, lid missing—and then he scrawled a reply, tapping the words with his wand to send them.

It took you long enough to remember you could write to me. Honestly, I don't know how you'd manage without me. I'm sorry to hear of your emotional torture, but I'm looking forward to your visit.

Regulus did tell me that was the reason for the chess playing after I questioned his motives, and we had fun. Your brother makes for good company when you're not there for him to wind up. I just arrived home and I'm going to go and have lunch with my mum now, but I miss you too xxx.

When the emerald green flames of Mister Lupin's departure had died down, leaving the fireplace cold and empty once more, Albus turned his gaze on Deasura, who was waiting patiently in the chair she'd been sitting in all morning.

'Are you ready?'

She took a deep breath and nodded. 'As ready as I'll ever be for this.'

With a wave of his hand, Albus lifted the charms keeping her restrained. 'Anxiety is understandable, given the circumstances, but I will not leave your side until I have to.'

'Thank you, Albus,' she said, climbing to her feet and stretching her muscles, which were undoubtedly sore after being in one position for such a long time. 'Will you…' she trailed off, closing her eyes, and then she shook her head. 'Never mind. Let's go.'

'Will I what?'

She moved towards him, turning her head so he couldn't see her face, and when she spoke, her words were quiet. 'I was going to ask if you would come when… when it happens. A friendly face would… help. But that's too much to ask.'

'Of course, I'll be there,' Albus said softly, placing a hand on her back in reassurance. 'It's not too much to ask. Not at all. I would have come even if you hadn't asked.'

Her hand moved to her face as she wiped her eyes before meeting his gaze. 'You are treating me far better than I deserve, Albus.'

'Compassion costs us nothing,' Albus said, conjuring a tissue and handing it to her. 'But its value to those who need it is priceless.'

She gave him a small smile as she took it, wiping her eyes properly before using it to blow her nose, and then she nodded at him, straightening her spine as she took his arm. 'I'm ready.'

Spinning on his heel, he focused on his destination and apparated them to the pavement next to the Ministry visitor's entrance. The sight of the phone box seemed to make the whole thing more real because Deasura stiffened beside him and he patted the hand that was still holding his arm. 'You're alright. It won't happen today. Today you're just telling them your story. Breathe, Deasura.'

She did so, using her other hand to clutch his. 'Don't leave me.'

'I won't. You have my word.' He said, gently extricating his hand so he could pull the door of the phone box open. Once they were both inside, he lifted the handset and dialled—62442—and a cool, female voice spoke from the air around them. 'Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business.'

'Albus Dumbledore, escorting Deasura Tenebris who is here to confess a crime.'

'Thank you,' the voice said. 'Visitors, please take your badges and attach them to the front of your robes.'

There was a rattle followed by a clank and two shiny silver badges fell into the coin return. Albus picked them up, keeping his own badge, which read Albus Dumbledore, Criminal Escort, and handed the second to Deasura—Deasura Tenebris, Crime Confession—who took it with a shaky hand, read it with an eye roll and pinned it to the front of her robes as the voice started speaking again.

'Visitors to the Ministry are required to submit to a search and present your wands for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the Atrium.'

With a shudder, the telephone box began sinking into the ground and they were soon enveloped in darkness. There was nothing but the dull sound of grinding and Deasura's heavy, uneven breaths as they sank further and further into the ground. The minute it took to reach the bottom passed in silence, but when the door sprang open with the usual, 'The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant day,' Deasura snorted.

'Well, that's one wish that won't be coming true.'

'It does seem unlikely, doesn't it?' Albus agreed, waving his arm in the direction of the golden lifts. 'The security desk is this way.'

They wound their way through the crowded Atrium, past the fountain of Magical Brethren, to the desk where a white-haired witch was seated reading the Daily Prophet. She glanced up at their approach, and seeing they were headed towards her, lowered the paper.

'Good afternoon, Albus, and… I'm sorry, dear. I don't know your name?'

'Tenebris,' Deasura said. 'Deasura Tenebris.'

'Well, good afternoon. Have you visited the Ministry before?'

She shook her head. 'No.'

'Well, I'll do Albus first then, yes? Then you'll know what to expect. It's nothing scary. Just over here, Albus, if you please?'

'Of course.' Albus moved to the side of the desk so she could scan him before placing his wand on the scale and nodding his agreement when she read out the result—He had, of course, brought his old wand, not the Elder wand. It wouldn't do for anyone to know he was in possession of that particular artefact.

'Right, your turn, dear.'

Deasura moved over and the witch passed the long, thin, golden rod up her front and down her back. There was a buzz, and she frowned, taking a step back as she looked at Deasura, fear clear in her eyes.

'You're a vampire?'

'Yes.' Deasura gave her an open-mouthed smile and Albus caught a glimpse of her partially extended fangs and held back a smile of his own. Despite her fear and regret, it was good to see she still had some of her spirit intact.

The witch glanced at Deasura's badge and visibly blanched. 'Alright. Yes, well, if you just place your wand on the scales.'

Albus stepped over, taking Deasura's wand from his pocket so it could be weighed, and Deasura merely nodded when the result was read out, and then he took it back. The witch seemed slightly reassured that the vampire in front of her was unarmed, but watched them nervously as they walked away to join the queue for the lifts.

'You think she behaves like that every time a creature or being comes in?' Deasura asked. 'She must see a fair amount of us.'

'I believe she's standing in for the usual security guard. He must be off sick. Unless she's new. In any case, I've never seen her before.'

'She knew you.'

'Everyone knows me.'

Deasura laughed. 'Not at all vain.'

After a wait of just a few minutes, they took the lift upstairs, stepping out when the same cool, female voice as before announced, 'Level two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Improper Use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters, and Wizengamot Administration Services,' and Albus led the way through to the Auror offices and up to the desk at the front where a wizard was seated, engrossed in some form of paperwork.

'Good afternoon,' Albus greeted, smiling at the wizard who had an impressive beard, but it wasn't quite a match for Albus' own. The man looked up from his work and jumped a little when he saw who was in front of him, but before he could speak, Albus continued. 'My friend is here to confess a crime, and I'm here to provide moral support. I insist on remaining with her throughout the entire process.'

'Oh. That's highly unusual, Professor. We wouldn't usually allow anyone to—'

'Nevertheless, you will do so.'

With a frown, the man climbed to his feet. 'I'm not authorised to make such a decision. If you would wait here while I speak to the Head Auror?'

Albus inclined his head. 'Of course. Take your time.' The wizard hurried away, and Albus waved his hand at the small seating area against the wall. 'Would you like a seat, Deasura?'

She shook her head. 'No, thank you. I think I'd prefer to stand.'

'Restless?'

'A little.'

'Understandable.'

A few minutes later, the wizard returned. 'You have permission to remain with…' he trailed off and looked at Deasura in question.

'Deasura,' she supplied.

'… Deasura while she makes her statement, and may accompany her to the holding cells if it's determined that she should be held on trial.'

'Wonderful,' Albus said, peering at the wizard's badge. 'Thank you Auror Scrimgeour. You've been most helpful.'

'If you'd follow me. There's an interview room available just through here.'

They were taken to a small room containing a single table and four chairs, two on either side, and were joined a minute later by a fourth person who introduced himself as trainee Auror Alastor Moody. Recognising him as one of the Hogwarts' graduates the previous year, Albus gave him a smile but did not get one in return. The young man seemed to take his job very seriously. Admirable.

After taking a moment to settle in his seat and prepare parchment and quill to take a statement, Scrimgeour looked up at Deasura. 'What crime are you here to confess?'

'Murder.'

His eyes widened in surprise, but he collected himself quickly. 'And whom did you murder?'

'Marcus Hawthorne.'

Moody straightened in his chair, frowning at Deasura, but Scrimgeour just wrote the name on his parchment before looking back up. 'How and why did you kill him?'

'I ripped out his throat with my teeth,' Deasura said. Her voice was cold and emotionless. Nothing like the grief-filled words she'd spoken when she had told him. 'There was no motive. It just happened.'

'I see. That's an unusual way for a human to kill,' Auror Scrimgeour commented as he wrote it down.

'She's a vampire,' Auror Moody said.

Scrimgeour looked at him. 'What makes you think that?'

'She ripped out a man's throat with her teeth.'

'The boy is correct,' Deasura said. 'I am a vampire. Unregistered.'

'Oh.' Scrimgeour shifted in his chair. 'In that case, I'll need to ask someone from the DRCMC to sit in on the rest of this interview. If you wouldn't mind waiting?'

'I don't really have a choice, do I?' Deasura asked. 'You're hardly going to allow me to walk out of here now.'

'Well, no,' Scrimgeour said, standing up. 'Trainee Auror Moody will remain here to prevent that.'

'Do you think he'd be capable of stopping me if I wanted to leave?' Deasura asked, smirking at the boy with her head tilted to one side slightly.

'Behave, Dea,' Albus murmured. 'You're doing yourself no favours acting this way.'

'They're going to execute me regardless, Albus.'

'Maybe so, but you can at least make some of them feel bad about it if you keep your humanity at the forefront.'

She sighed, dropping the sadistic vampire act and slouching in her seat. 'You're no fun.'

'I think we're almost there,' Mary said, after glancing out of the train window. 'I'm going to find Peter. Have a great summer, guys.'

A chorus of responses came from the girls, including, 'Don't forget to write,' and, 'we'll see you before school starts again.'

Mary waved and, levitating her trunk ahead of her, left the compartment to seek out the boys. She knew where they'd be, of course. They always sat at the very back of the train where they could plot in peace. She had to squeeze past several students walking in the other direction on her way there, and it was while she had her back pressed up to the windows to allow a large group of older kids to pass her that a familiar voice spoke, close to her ear.

'Miss MacDonald. We meet again.'

She turned her head and smiled. 'Regulus. Hello, again.'

'So?'

'So what?'

'Did you win?'

Her smile widened into a grin. 'I did.'

'Congratulations.'

'Thank you.'

'Where are you headed?' Regulus asked as he followed her down the narrow aisle.

'To find Peter. You?'

'My dear brother, so it looks like we're going to the same place. They're in the—'

'—last compartment at the back,' Mary finished at the same time as he did.

'Is it wise for us to arrive together, do you think?' Regulus asked. 'We don't want to give you away.'

'As long as we pretend we don't know each other, it shouldn't be a problem.'

'True,' Regulus said as they reached the end. 'After you.'

Mary grabbed the handle and slid the door open, smiling at the occupants. 'Hey. Oh. Sirius, don't you look posh?' She'd been intending to greet her boyfriend first but was caught off guard by Sirius' incredibly fancy robes. She'd never seen him look like that at school.

Sirius scowled. 'I don't want to talk about it.'

'I do hope you're not going to be in a foul mood all summer, brother,' Regulus said, coming in behind her. 'At least try to pretend you're happy to be home.'

'I'll pretend when I have to,' Sirius replied. Then, turning to James and Peter, 'I'll see you… well, I don't know, but soon.'

'Write to us tonight,' James told him. 'Or we'll worry. You have your ring?'

Sirius lifted his hand to show a chunky ring on the middle finger of his left hand. 'I will.'

'Try to stay out of trouble,' Peter said. 'Please.'

'I'll do my best, Pete. Really. Alright, bye.' And with that, he walked out, levitating his trunk ahead of him.

'It was nice to see you all again. Have a good summer,' Regulus said politely, before winking at James and turning to walk back out the door. What the hell was that about? James ducked his head and fumbled to draw his wand so he could levitate his trunk down. He seemed flustered. Was something going on with him and Regulus? She'd have to keep an eye on that next year, but for now…

'Want to come meet my mum?' she asked, looking at Peter.

'Er… Yeah, sure,' Peter said, sounding nervous. 'Let me just get my stuff.'

The three of them departed the train together, and they all stood scanning the platform for a moment until James gave a bounce. 'There's my dad. Wonder where mum is. Bye, guys.' He gave them both the shortest hug ever, and then he was gone.

'She's over there,' Mary said, pointing her mum out, and adding, 'Oh, and Myles came too,' when she spotted him standing beside her. Her little brother was staring around, wide-eyed at all the magic on display on the platform, and her heart broke for him that he'd never get to experience it for himself. He wouldn't be eleven for another few weeks, but as far as she knew, he'd never done anything that could potentially be accidental magic. Unlike her childhood, which had been plagued by weird and bizarre incidents, his had been completely normal.

Peter followed her as she walked over, and her mum's face broke into a smile when she noticed her approach. There were the obligatory hugs and greetings that came after a long absence, and then Mary pulled Peter forward with a, 'This is Peter.'

'It's lovely to meet you at last,' her mum said, smiling down at him. 'Mary wouldn't stop talking about you at Christmas.'

'Mum,' Mary said, covering her face. 'Do you have to embarrass me?'

Peter chuckled. 'I'm sure I talked about Mary just as much.'

Mary was fairly certain that wasn't true since his mum spent most of her time asleep or out of it on potions, but it was nice of him to lie. 'Anyway, can he come stay during the summer now you've met him?'

Peter turned his head to look at her, surprise clear in his features. 'Oh, I didn't know you wanted me to come and stay. I don't know if I'll be able to do that. My mum… you know?'

'Not even for one night? I was going to ask you once they said it was okay.'

'It's not really fair to Bella. This is meant to be her holiday, too. I could come for a few hours, though.'

Mary sighed. 'Alright. If that's all you can manage.'

'That's settled then,' Mary's mum said. 'Will you need someone to pick you up, Peter?'

'I'm not sure,' Peter said. 'I'll contact the Floo Network and find out where the closest public Floo is to your house, and let you know. Is that okay?'

Mary's mum frowned. 'That's the fireplace thing, isn't it? Is that safe?'

Peter shrugged. 'Mostly. Sometimes you can come out at the wrong place, but it's never happened to me.'

'Well, alright. If you're sure,' Mary's mum looked doubtful about the plan, but she refrained from commenting on it further as she glanced at her watch. 'We should get going, Mary. We still have a long drive to get home and your train was really late this year. It was lovely to meet you, Peter.'

'You too, Mrs MacDonald. Bye Mary. See you soon.'

He seemed unsure if he should kiss her or not, and Mary quickly shook her head. That would be so embarrassing in front of her parents. They'd tease her about it all the way home. So she settled for a verbal goodbye and a smile, promising to write as soon as she was home before following her mum and brother through the barrier and back into the muggle world.

Peter watched Mary leave with her mum and brother through the barrier that led to the muggle part of King's Cross and smiled to himself. That had gone very well. Once they were out of sight, it didn't take him more than a few seconds of scanning the station to spot Arabella waiting for him, alone this year, and he made his way over to her.

She went through the Floo first, and he took a deep breath before throwing his powder into the flames–preparing himself for the inevitable mess he would find when he emerged at the other end–and closed his eyes as he stepped in. When the rush of air in his ears stopped, he stepped out and opened them again, and his jaw dropped as he gazed around at the pristine living room.

'Welcome home,' Arabella said, smiling widely at him.

'It's… wow,' Peter replied, stunned speechless. '… How?'

'Effie and Monty came round yesterday to get everything spick and span for your homecoming. Effie cleaned and tidied, and Monty brewed everything you need for the summer.'

'Everything?' Peter said. 'That must have taken him…'

'All day, near enough.'

Peter's eyes stung, and he sniffed. 'I don't even know what to say. I was expecting… well, you know what I was expecting.' Then he realised someone was missing. 'Where's mum?'

'She spent the night at the Potter's,' Arabella said. 'Effie didn't want to risk all her hard work being spoiled, but she'll be bringing her home as soon as Monty gets back from the station with James. Should be any minute.'

'How are they so kind?' Peter asked rhetorically. 'I don't know how I'm ever going to repay them for this.'

Arabella shrugged. 'I don't think they really expect to be repaid, but nothing says thank you like a nice hot cup of tea.'

'Great idea.' Peter took another look around the beautifully clean living room, shaking his head—it hadn't looked so good since before his mum got sick—and headed into the kitchen, which was just as clean and tidy. His post was sorted into piles and neatly stacked on the kitchen table, and when he looked, the fridge, freezer, and cupboards were all fully stocked.

The noise of the kettle coming to a boil must have drowned out the Floo because he didn't hear Effie arrive until she called a 'Yoo-hoo, hello?' and walked into the kitchen, smiling and immediately pulled Peter into a tight hug.

'Hello dear, glad to be home?'

Peter hugged her back, hard. 'More so than usual, yeah. The place looks amazing, Effie. Thank you so much.'

'It was my pleasure. Couldn't have you coming home to a mess now, could we? You deserve a break after working so hard all year.'

Turning away while he poured the hot water over the tea bags, he surreptitiously wiped his damp eyes on the back of his sleeve. 'I'm starting to realise where James gets his kindness from,' he said, giving her a smile over his shoulder before turning back to finish stirring. 'Is mum in the living room?'

'She is. She's had a good day today, but she's a bit tired, so I settled her in her favourite chair and put the TV on. I'm sure she'd like to see you though, hasn't stopped talking about you all day. Why don't you let me finish the tea and go and say hi?'

'There's not much left to do,' Peter said. 'It just needs to brew for a few minutes.'

'Well, then. You leave that to me and Bella. Hello, dear, sorry for ignoring you.' Effie pulled Bella into a hug too before turning back to Peter and shooing him out of the kitchen. 'Go on. We've got this in hand.'

'Alright, alright. I'm going,' he said, heading towards the door. As Effie had said, his mum was sitting in her favourite armchair, watching TV with a soft, knitted blanket covering her legs which he didn't think he'd seen before. 'Hi, mum,' he tried, and she turned her head to look at him, a smile breaking across it as she did so.

'Hello, Peter honey. Come and give me a hug. I've missed you.'

Peter gave her a gentle hug, careful not to hurt her, and dropped a kiss on her cheek. 'I missed you too, mum,' he said, feeling a pang of guilt at the partial lie. He missed who she used to be—who she still was occasionally—but he didn't miss taking care of her; the responsibility and the stress.

She smiled at him as he pulled away. 'I hope you're having lots of fun at school?'

'Most of the time, yeah.' Finding out the teacher you trusted was a murderer wasn't much fun, but he couldn't tell her about that. It wasn't like she could do anything. He pushed the sadness down and forced a smile onto his face. 'What about you? Do you like Effie?'

'Oh, she's lovely,' his mum said. 'I wish we'd met before I was sick. I think we could have had a lot of fun together.'

'Oh, we still can, Ida,' Effie said, walking into the room with the tea tray and Bella trailing after her. She set the tray down on the coffee table and stood back up to wink at his mum. 'We're going to have a great time drooling over all the hunky French men on holiday, remember?'

'Wait, what?' Peter asked.

'Your mum's coming with us.' Effie was smiling as she spoke. 'It's all arranged. We've got a medi-witch booked for the month, and Monty's sorted the permit to bring her potions with us. But I'm afraid I can't stop and tell you about it all now. James said he had something he wanted to talk to me and Monty about.'

'Oh,' Peter said, knowing exactly what that would be. 'Yeah, you should go. But thank you, Effie. For everything.'

She smiled. 'You're more than welcome, sweetheart. I'm glad that I'm able to help.'

Once he'd seen her through the Floo, Peter turned back to Bella to find her waiting by the door with her bag in hand. 'I should go too. Your train was really late, and I've got so much to get done still.'

'Oh, I'm sorry,' Peter said, feeling guilty because it was their fault the train had been late. 'Thanks for coming to get me.'

'Oh, don't thank me for that. You know I love going. Bye, Peter. See you soon.'

The door slammed behind her and Peter turned back to his mum to find she'd fallen asleep. He sighed and took a seat on the sofa, picking up his tea before sitting back and letting himself sink into the cushions. He had absolutely nothing to do, and it had been so long since he had absolutely nothing to do that he wasn't sure what to make of it. What did he use to do with all his time before? Play? He wrinkled his nose. The thought of playing anything by himself just seemed so boring. He flicked through the TV channels, but there was nothing on, so he switched it off and walked into the kitchen.

Might as well go through the post, he thought, sitting down at the table. But he'd only made it through two of the letters before he couldn't hold the tears back any longer. In a way, he wished he had come home to a mess because at least then he would have something to keep him from thinking about Storm and the fact that she was going to die, very, very soon.

Lily stepped down onto the platform and lowered her trunk to the floor, cancelling the charm before shoving her wand into her pocket. Petunia would just get shitty if she looked like she was showing off. Standing on tiptoes, she tried to find Severus in the crowd and eventually spotted him getting off the train a few carriages down. He was alone, so she grabbed the handle of her trunk and tugged it behind her as she hurried towards him.

Like her, he'd changed into his muggle clothes on the train, but unlike hers, his were old, mismatched, stained and worn. That had never bothered her, though. She knew what it was like to be poor.

'Hi, Sev,' she said when she was close enough. 'You okay?'

He gave her a small smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. It rarely did anymore. 'Not great. But I'll cope.'

'We've still got a couple of hours in the car before we get there,' she said, trying to give him what comfort she could.

He hummed. 'Doesn't help that the train was late. Mum will be worried and dad doesn't like it when she gets anxious. He'll be pissed off.'

'Well, let's not waste any more time, then.' There was no way she was going to tell him that she suspected James was the reason for the delay. He was already in a mood. She wasn't stupid enough to add to it. 'Mum said they'd wait for us near the barrier.'

They walked there together, both of them dragging their trunks rather than floating them there with magic. Severus thought it was silly to pander to Petunia's prejudices, she knew, but he did as she asked anyway. It was in their best interests not to annoy her when they had to spend two hours trapped in a car together to get home. Petunia was very good at making herself uncomfortable to be around when she was in a bad mood without saying anything that would get her into trouble with the parents. It was a skill, and she'd carefully cultivated it over the years.

It turned out to be a wasted effort though because when they found Lily's parents, Petunia was nowhere to be seen and Lily's heart sank. Despite not seeing her for six months, her sister hadn't bothered to come and pick her up from the station. It was the final nail in the coffin as far as Lily was concerned. She'd been holding onto hope that their relationship could still be repaired, but this was proof there was nothing left between them to repair. Petunia had let her jealousy of Lily's magic fester until it ate away every bond that had formed between them in childhood, and she simply didn't care about her anymore.

She would try one more time, she decided, not quite ready to give up. When she got home, she would try one more time to speak to Petunia, but if she wouldn't listen, then that was it. She was done.

Her parents greeted them both warmly, her mum giving them both a hug, while her dad settled on a handshake for Severus, and led them through the barrier and back into the muggle world. It was strange. When she'd first left for Hogwarts, the magical world had seemed so weird and alien. Nothing had been familiar, and she'd felt extremely out of place for a long time—like an imposter, or a tourist in a foreign land—but not anymore.

Now it was the opposite. She'd become so accustomed to the magical world that as she walked through King's Cross and looked at the muggles, hurrying to catch a train or leave the station for their final destination, they were the ones that seemed strange. And the feeling got even worse when they left the station. Even at its busiest, Hogsmeade was never this crowded. There were so many people, it was ridiculous. The cars were loud and made the air taste bad, and everything was so mundane. The sinking feeling in her chest worsened by the second. She missed Hogwarts, and potions, and magic. She didn't know how she was going to survive eleven weeks without it, and the only reason she was able to make herself climb into the car instead of turning around and running back to platform 9 3/4 to beg the train driver to take her back was the knowledge that she had a week at Marlene's to look forward to. Her entire family was magical, so the Trace wouldn't alert the Ministry if they did magic in her house.

Just like the previous year, the car journey passed quickly with her parents listening avidly as she told them all about her classes and what she'd learned, asking questions and making all the right noises, but she could tell they didn't really get it. And how could they, when they could never experience any of it for themselves?

It really hit her when she got home, after dropping Severus off outside his house, and retreated to her room to unpack. The more time she spent immersed in the magical world, the further away she would move from the muggle one. Further away from her parents and the rest of her family. One day, would she come home and feel as out of place in the muggle neighbourhood as Marlene would? The thought made her feel cold. She didn't want her home to feel like a foreign land. And right there and then, she vowed to never let that happen. No matter what, she would remember where she came from. She was a muggle for ten years before she found out she was a witch. Her existence was a bridge between two distinctly different worlds. She was a muggleborn witch, and that was something she couldn't let herself forget.

As he crossed the platform to reach his dad, James spotted Lily leaving through the barrier that led to the muggle part of the station, arm in arm with Snivellus, and scowled. He understood better why they were friends now, but it didn't mean he had to like it.

'What's the face for?' his dad asked when he was close enough to hear.

'No reason,' James said. 'Just saw something unpleasant. Where's mum?'

'Oh, that's nice, that is. No "hi, dad. It's great to see you." No. Just "Where's mum?" I see how it is.'

James laughed. 'Hi, dad. It's great to see you. Where's mum?'

'Much better.' His dad grinned and gave him a hug. 'Mum's at home. Ida stayed with us last night so she wouldn't mess up the house before Peter got back.'

James nodded, taking his dad's arm and making sure he had a firm grip on his trunk. 'Let's go then. I really want to be at home.'

'Everything okay?' his dad asked, frowning a little.

'Not really, no. But I'd rather tell you both about it at the same time.'

His dad nodded and turned on his heel, apparating them both to the Receiving Room in an instant. 'I'll take your trunk up to your room. You go and find mum.'

'Thanks, dad,' James said. He loved his dad, but with the way he'd been feeling since the previous night, he really just wanted a hug from his mum. Nothing else quite compared. He found her in the living room with Ida Pettigrew, who looked much calmer than the last time he'd seen her, thankfully. They both held a cup of tea and were chatting happily, but they stopped when James walked in, his mum immediately putting down her cup and rising to pull him into a hug. Just what he needed.

'Hi, mum,' he said, squeezing her tightly, which made her pull away and look at him with eyes full of concern. 'Are you okay?'

He shook his head, feeling the tears well up in his eyes. He hadn't cried since it happened, putting on a brave face for his friends, knowing they needed him to be the rock, but now, safe at home, the dam he'd built finally broke. 'I really need to talk to you.'

'Alright, well, let me get Ida home and settled, and then you can tell me all about it. Is that okay?'

James nodded. 'Yeah. Thanks, mum.'

'Always, sweetheart. You know that.'

She gave him another hug, followed by another concerned look, before turning her focus to Ida and the process of cajoling her into the floo. It took a few minutes, and by the time she left, his dad was back and pouring them both a cup of tea.

After passing a cup to James, he sat back in his seat and crossed his legs, taking a sip from his own cup and giving James an assessing look. 'This is bad, isn't it? I'm not sure I've ever seen you look quite so upset.'

'Yeah, it's pretty bad.'

'Something you did?'

James shook his head, and his dad relaxed a little. Not much, but enough that James could tell he'd been worried.

'Alright, we'll wait for mum to get back. Is there anything else you want to talk about while we're waiting?'

Other than Storm, there was only one thing that was on his mind. 'I kissed Sirius' brother yesterday.'

His dad's eyes widened in surprise. 'I thought you liked that girl. What was her name..? Lily?'

'I do,' James said. 'But… Okay. So he had a really good idea, right? And I said "oh my gods. I could kiss you," or something like that. I don't remember exactly. And I say that all the time when someone has a good idea, right? No one's ever taken me up on it before. But he went "Go on then" all challengingly and…'

'And you can't ever turn away from a challenge,' his dad said with a chuckle. 'That's probably my fault.'

James raised an eyebrow. 'You think?'

'So you kissed him?'

'Yeah.' James looked at his hands. 'I don't know what to do.'

'Does Sirius know?'

James shook his head. 'I don't think he'd be mad or anything, but it's just not a good time to bring it up.'

'Because of the thing you're upset about?'

'Yeah.'

His dad took another sip of his tea. 'Do you like the brother?'

'Regulus,' James told him, then he shrugged. 'I mean, yeah, but not as much as I like Lily.'

'So starting a relationship with him wouldn't really be fair.'

'No,' James agreed. 'That's what I thought, too. Do I tell him that?'

'Has he expressed any interest in a relationship?'

'No. Not specifically. He winked at me before he got off the train, but I don't know. I think he's just teasing. Trying to wind me up. He likes getting a reaction out of people.'

His dad nodded. 'My advice would be to just leave it for now and see if he approaches you again. If he does, and you still feel the same way, then let him down gently. You don't want to upset him.'

James smiled. 'Thanks, dad.'

'Any time, son.' His dad smiled back at him and took another sip of his tea, glancing at the door. 'Think I can hear your mum.'

'I've always said you've got good ears, Monty. Pour us another cup of tea, would you?' his mum said, talking before she even rounded the corner to enter the room. She walked over and took a seat next to James, taking his hand. 'Alright, we're all yours, sweetheart. What's happened?'

'Last night,' he said, 'we found out who really killed Professor Hawthorne. It was Professor Tenebris.'

'The teacher that's been giving you private lessons all year?' she asked, and James could tell she was trying very hard to keep her voice calm and comforting, but he could hear a note of alarm in it anyway.

He nodded before launching into the story and telling them everything. At some point, his dad moved to the seat on his other side, taking his free hand and squeezing it gently as he talked, unloading all his thoughts and feelings about the events of the last night of term, and finishing with, 'They're going to execute her, and I don't want her to die.'

As usual, Dorcas waited on the train until the crowds on the platform had died down before levitating her trunk ahead of her as she disembarked. She didn't bother looking around, heading straight for the floo point instead. Unlike everyone else, there was no one there to meet her off the train. Her mum had to work, and she didn't have anyone else. She didn't mind. Her mum's job was important, and she admired her dedication to it. But it was a little embarrassing to be the only student to not have anyone waiting to greet them. She also hated crowds, which made for a perfect excuse when her friends wanted to know why she didn't get off with them.

When she stepped out of the fireplace, the house was dark and empty, as she'd expected, and she left her trunk by the fireplace. There was no way she could get it up to her room by herself, and there was nothing she needed from it right then, anyway. She flicked the light switch as she passed on her way to the kitchen, making the room light up with a welcoming glow and illuminating the folded paper propped up against the decorative candles that adorned the coffee table. It was torn from a notebook and her name was printed across the front in her mum's handwriting. She picked it up and opened it.

Hi darling, I'm sorry I couldn't be there to pick you up, but I'll be home before you go to bed. My shift at the clinic ends at seven. There's pizza in the freezer and pasta in the cupboard. Don't forget to turn the oven off when you're done.

Love you

Mum xxx

There was a smile on her face as she folded the paper back up. Her mum had made sure her favourite foods were available when she got home and, knowing how busy she was, that bit of thoughtfulness—that little extra time she'd taken—made her feel cared for. She dropped the note into the bin as she passed on her way to the freezer. She couldn't be bothered to make pasta, but pizza sounded fantastic.

When she opened the freezer, her pizza was right at the top—a basic pepperoni, she didn't like too many toppings—and she smiled again. Her mum knew how much she hated getting her hands cold digging around. Keeping the box so she could use it to take the pizza back out, she tore the plastic off and popped it into the oven before looking around for something to do while she waited for it to cook.

It was pretty obvious her mum hadn't had time to clean the kitchen for a few days. There were dirty dishes piled up next to the sink and the floor could do with a sweep, so she filled the sink with hot soapy water and put the plates and cutlery in to soak while she dealt with the floor. Her mum had done something nice for her, so she would do something nice in return. She'd arrive home from work expecting a mess and would find it all done.

By the time she was finished, the pizza was done, so she took it out and grated a little extra cheese on top—they never put enough cheese on frozen pizzas—before slicing it up and taking her plate through to the living room to watch TV while she ate. Before starting at Hogwarts, she used to read while she ate, but she'd become accustomed to the noise of the Great Hall during her two years at the school, and the thought of eating in silence made her feel all wrong now. The TV wasn't quite the same, but it would have to do.

She was washing her plate when she heard the door, followed by, 'Cas? You home, honey?'

'In the kitchen, mum,' she called back, placing the plate carefully on the drainer before grabbing the tea towel to dry her hands.

Her mum walked in, grinning broadly, and held her arms open in offering. 'It's so good to see you. Can I have a hug?' She always asked first. Dorcas loved hugs most of the time, but sometimes she couldn't bear the feeling of anyone touching her. She had no idea why.

'Yeah,' Dorcas said, stepping into her arms and wrapping her own around her mum's waist. 'Missed you.'

'Not as much as I missed you, I'm sure. You didn't have to clean, you know? It's your first night back.'

Dorcas stepped back, tilting her head to smile at her. 'I wanted to. How's the clinic? Do you want a cup of tea?'

Her mum took a seat at the kitchen table, sighing with relief as she did so. 'Oh, that sounds wonderful. It's been a busy day with the full moon last night. Poor Stanley managed to almost rip his arm off.'

Dorcas winced as she filled the kettle. 'I'll pop in and see him tomorrow.'

'I'm sure they'd all love to see you. You've been missed.'

'I've missed them too.' Dorcas plugged the kettle back in and flicked it on before turning to face her mum and leaning back against the counter. 'Would it be alright if I had a friend over for a few days during the summer?'

'Of course. Who is it?'

'Marlene McKinnon.'

As she expected, her mum's smile turned into a frown. 'The pureblood? Oh, I don't know, Cas. I won't put up with being treated badly in my own home.'

'If I thought she'd behave like that, I wouldn't invite her. She does have some… wrong ideas about squibs and the people that come to the clinic, but she knows they're wrong. She listened when I told her off, and she wants to learn. You trust me, don't you?'

Her mum smiled again. 'Well, you've never been wrong about anyone before. Go on, then. Tell her she can come for a week, but she'll have to earn her keep in the clinic while she's here.'

Dorcas grinned. 'That's what I was hoping you'd say.'

Before following Sirius out of the compartment, Regulus said a general goodbye to everyone and winked at James just to see how he'd react, and it was so worth it. He got flustered, averting his eyes and fumbling his wand, and the look of utter confusion that appeared on Peter's face told him what he needed to know. James had said nothing about their kiss to his friends. Oh, the next school year was going to be fun.

'So,' Sirius said when he joined him in the aisle, 'how are you feeling this morning?'

Regulus rolled his eyes. 'I'm perfectly well. Madam Pomfrey's potions are top-notch.'

'I didn't mean physically. All year, Reg. You must have feelings about it.'

'Not ones I care to discuss,' Regulus said. 'I don't remember any of the times apart from last night, and it all turned out fine, so what would be the point?' The truth was, he didn't want to talk about it with Sirius. His brother already thought him weak and a coward. He didn't want to add to that negative image by weeping over things that couldn't be changed. He'd spent much of the night talking about it with Annette in the common room, anyway. He was raw from talking about it. And enough was enough. 'And besides,' he added after a pause, 'now probably isn't the time. Are you ready?'

'Not particularly,' Sirius replied, to no one's surprise. 'But let's do it, anyway.'

The greetings went smoothly enough, although their mother was in a foul mood over the lateness of the train. As she ranted about it, Regulus idly wondered how much angrier she would be if she knew Sirius was one of the parties responsible for their tardiness. Not that he would tell her. Finally, after calling Peony to collect their trunks—Regulus hated hearing his mother call her Phungus, but he kept any sign of that feeling from showing on his face—they were ordered to take her arms, and a moment later they were home and being sent to clean themselves up for dinner, with strict instructions to be quick because dinner was already late.

'Regretting your little joke yet?' Regulus asked as they climbed the stairs together.

'I've been regretting it all day,' Sirius said. 'But yes, it didn't occur to me how mad Mother would be about the train being late. Dinner is going to be a nightmare.'

Having expected to get his head bitten off for the jibe, Regulus frowned with concern. 'Are you alright?'

'Huh?' Sirius looked at him. 'Yeah. No. Maybe? I really have no idea, to be honest. My head is a mess. I've not had time to sort through it all. I'm so angry, Reg, but also, I can't make myself hate her.'

'We can't talk about this here,' Regulus said, glancing at the ancestral portraits that lined the walls of each landing. 'After dinner. My room.'

Sirius nodded, his hand on the door handle of his bedroom. 'Alright. Thanks, Reggie.'

Regulus pushed his own door open and turned away. 'What else are brothers for?' he tossed over his shoulder before walking in and closing the door behind him. His room was just as he'd left it, and he smiled at the plain grey décor that he preferred. The green and silver of the Slytherin dungeon could get a bit much, but he supposed, if he were to convince everyone that he was enamoured with Lord Voldemort, he should start with his room.

With a heavy sigh, he drew his wand and pointed it first at the bed, transfiguring the bedclothes and curtains to Slytherin green and silver. The wallpaper was next to change under the power of his magic, then the carpet. It only took a minute to completely redecorate his room, and he hated it, but he didn't intend to spend much time there, so it was a small price to pay to start the ball rolling, so to speak. By the end of the summer, Sirius needed to, at the very least, have doubts about his loyalties.

Ten minutes later, he was washed and clothed in some of his finest dress robes as he left his room. Sirius was waiting for him on the landing, and Regulus was relieved to see he'd chosen to toe the family line and not further irritate their Mother by wearing something outrageously Gryffindor. He even had a ring on his finger that bore the Slytherin crest.

Sirius must have noticed his examination because he raised an eyebrow at him. 'Do I satisfy?' he asked, raising his arms and doing a slow twirl.

'I can see nothing to criticise,' Regulus said. 'So no. I like criticising.'

Sirius chuckled, which was what he'd been hoping for. Dinner was far more likely to pass without a fight if Sirius was in a positive mood, but not too positive. It was a fine line to tread.

'I promise to give you something to tell me off for later, brother.'

Regulus smirked. 'Thank you. I appreciate that.'

Entering the dining room together, they took their seats, and Regulus was pleased to note that Sirius' manners were impeccable. Spending all of his time with a muggleborn werewolf hadn't robbed him of his training—as much as he liked Remus, he was rather uncouth—and he managed to stay on Mother's good side through the first three courses with barely a stumble.

As dessert was being served, Orion cleared his throat at the head of the table, and Regulus looked up, seeing Sirius do the same opposite him.

'Sirius, I would like to speak to you in my study after dinner is over. Please, meet me there as soon as you're ready.'

'Of course, father,' Sirius replied politely, and Regulus could almost see him biting his tongue against the urge to ask what it was about. Asking why they were to do something was never a good idea. The Blacks expected no less from their children than unquestioning obedience. Unless the person making the request was of lower worth than them, in which case they were expected to project unqualified derision. Apart from Hogwarts' teachers. Those should also be obeyed. Honestly, the rules were complicated.

Disaster struck as Sirius moved to pick up his spoon for dessert. Distracted by Orion's request, he managed to knock his hand against one of the delicate glass goblets they were using that day. It toppled over, spilling the contents over the table and rolling to the edge where it fell, smashing as it hit the floor.

Before Mother could open her mouth to reprimand him for his clumsiness, or pull out her wand to punish him for it—which, let's be honest, was more likely—their Father intervened.

'Just repair it, Sirius. No harm done.'

Regulus glanced at the clock above the mantelpiece before meeting Sirius' eyes, which were filled with barely suppressed panic. He had two more hours before he'd be able to do magic again. Bugger.

As she took a seat on the edge of her bed after being apparated home by her mother, Marlene wished she could feel happy to be there. She used to be. Before Hogwarts, she'd loved her home; her bedroom with its pale purple walls and fluffy white carpet; the woodland outside that housed her favourite tree to climb with the perfect branch to sit on to read. But now… now it felt suffocating. Wrong. Her home was huge but so empty, and the purple walls and fluffy carpet just didn't feel like her anymore. She'd changed so much at Hogwarts, free from her parents' stifling control, free to explore who she was and what she liked. And she'd discovered a person she hadn't known existed inside her. A person she really liked. But she couldn't be that person here. At home, she had to be the perfect daughter. Deferential and meek.

Meek.

Her.

Marlene McKinnon.

It was laughable. How did she use to do it so easily? She couldn't remember, but she had to try. Tonight, even more so. She groaned and buried her fingers in her hair, holding her head in her hands for several seconds as she screamed as quietly as she could manage. Not that anyone would hear her—they were all downstairs, taking drinks in the Drawing room while they waited for her to join them for dinner—but a house-elf could be passing the door, and they would report to her parents that she was distressed if they heard anything untoward. Which would, of course, result in an inquisition she'd rather avoid.

Resigned to her fate, she climbed back to her feet and crossed to the wardrobe to choose something to wear, wondering if Sirius was suffering a similar fate this evening or if he would be spared this for a few more years. Opening the wardrobe made the urge to scream return. She didn't even get the privilege of picking out her own outfit. There was a set of robes hanging on the hook on the inside of the wardrobe door, complete with jewellery and a pair of shoes perched on the little shelf at the bottom of the door. Her mother was more than likely the culprit.

They weren't the worst robes in the world. There was nothing about them that was objectionable at all, really. In fact, if she'd been free to choose for herself, she probably would have picked something similar, but that was the point. She wasn't free to choose for herself. With a huff, she grabbed the robes off the hook and removed them from the hanger, throwing them onto the bed along with the jewellery and shoes, before shoving the door closed with a bang and heading to the en-suite bathroom to shower.

By the time she was ready to go downstairs, she was in an absolutely rotten mood and she took a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself down lest her temper made her do something completely stupid. After a good minute of this, she felt calmer, so she moved towards the door, pausing in front of the full-length mirror to check herself over. A stranger stared back at her from the glass, and she sighed again. Would her friends even recognise her when they came to visit?

Unable to delay the inevitable a moment longer, she took one last deep breath and left the safety of her bedroom for the battleground downstairs. Dramatic, maybe, but that's what it felt like.

She plastered a smile on her face as she entered the Drawing room and scanned quickly to see who was present. Marlene's parents were there, obviously, and her brother and his wife—Belladonna—Belladonna's parents, and last of all, their youngest son; Marlene's betrothed. He was sixteen, tall and gangly, with short black hair, and he smiled at her, but his eyes were calculating, sizing her up. She wanted to be sick, but instead, she walked towards them, greeting everyone in the room in turn, before using every ounce of willpower she had to keep her smile in place as she extended a hand to the boy she would marry in five years' time.

'Dante, it's good to see you again,' she lied, trying not to cringe as he took her hand in his and kissed the back of it.

'Likewise,' he said, smiling at her in that same calculating way. 'You're looking more beautiful than ever. May I escort you to dinner?'

'That would be lovely, thank you.' She took the arm he offered, smiling round at everyone else, while inside, the stone in her stomach grew heavier. There was no way out of this. No way to escape her fate. Nothing she could do but smile and pretend she wasn't dying inside as she followed the path her parents had laid out before her and became Marlene Zabini.

Gods, what a stupid name.

'Of course, Father. My apologies,' Sirius said, reaching for his wand and hoping to Merlin that Regulus had a decent grasp of the repairing charm and that he was as sneaky as he thought he was.

He pointed his wand at the mess on the floor and muttered the incantation while making the appropriate wand movements, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Regulus dab at his mouth with his napkin, using his left hand. In unison, the tiny shards of shattered glass rose into the air, piecing themselves back together as they moved towards the table. And a moment later, his goblet was back in one piece, looking as good as new. Peony was already there, taking care of the spill—and doing an admirable job of ignoring him completely—so Sirius tucked his wand away again, offering Regulus a small smile of thanks before he returned his attention to dessert.

That had been close. He really needed to be more careful.

Thankfully, he got through the rest of the meal without another mishap, and as soon as he was dismissed, he hurried upstairs to change again before meeting his Father. Dressing for dinner was so stupid. He wondered how much time he wasted every year just changing his clothes unnecessarily. Less now than it used to be, but still too much for his liking.

His stomach was swirling as he got ready for the meeting. He knew what it would be about, and he was dreading it. Not enough to send an alarm to Peter, he didn't think, but enough to make him wish he hadn't eaten so much. Ever since Christmas, he'd been avoiding thinking about it. Putting off the inevitable moment when he would have to tell Remus, and now he was out of time. If he had known this was in his future when he started Hogwarts, would he have done anything differently? He'd like to be able to say yes. That he would have avoided Remus entirely. Never even spoken to him, never mind intentionally discovering his secret so the knowledge of it would be right there in his head for the taking, but the truth was, he didn't think he would have. He'd be drawn to Remus from the first moment he met him. All the way back when he was five, scared and lonely, hiding at the back of an apothecary, wishing he had someone, anyone, that cared enough to stand up for him and the universe had answered his wish with a golden-haired protector in the form of a tiny, fearless boy with a big enough heart to notice him and ask if he was okay.

He didn't think even knowing this was how it would end would have stopped him from greedily taking the last two years for himself, and he hated himself for his selfishness. Was he any better than Professor Tenebris, really?

Great. Now he was thinking about that.

He shook his head. It probably didn't matter what he did and didn't think about anyway. Heading for his bedroom door, he paused, turning to look at his trunk and biting his lip. Should he write to Remus and warn him first? No. There was no point in making him worry in advance. There was still the smallest, tiniest sliver of a chance that it would be okay.

It was tempting to walk slowly. Draw out the time he had left. But he resisted the urge and let his feet carry him swiftly to his father's study.

'Come in,' his father called when he knocked, and Sirius pushed the door open, moving quickly to stand in front of his father's desk with his hands clasped behind his back, his spine straight, and his chin raised ever so slightly.

His father glanced at something behind him before meeting his eyes, and Sirius itched to turn his head to see what he'd been looking at, but he resisted the urge.

'Welcome home, son. It's good to see you.'

'Thank you, father. It's good to be home,' Sirius lied, noting the slight twitch at the corner of his father's mouth that the words caused. 'You wished to speak to me?'

'Yes. I had hoped to give you a week to settle in before we began, but as you'll be away for four weeks of the holiday, I'm afraid we will have to start immediately. Follow me.' He stood from his chair and walked over to one of the many bookcases that lined the walls of his study, taking out his wand and tapping it against one of the books on the middle shelf as he muttered an incantation that Sirius couldn't make out. The bookcase slid to the side, revealing a large, empty room with a floor and walls of black marble, carved with runes, and glowing with an inner light that thrummed with so much magic it made the hair on Sirius' arms stand on end.

'Welcome to the training room, Sirius,' his father said, leading him inside. The bookcase slid closed behind them, but rather than plunging them into darkness, the glow emanating from the walls and floor grew brighter, illuminating the room with golden light. 'I expect you to report here at eight o'clock precisely every Friday, Saturday, and Sunday morning throughout the summer. You will not need to enter my study to do so. There is a passage,' he waved his wand and a second door opened in the opposite wall, 'directly to your room. And if I'm not here to meet you, you will practise what we've covered until I arrive. Do you understand?'

'Yes, Father.'

His father smiled then. 'I'm looking forward to seeing you meet this challenge with your usual determination. Tonight, I would like you to read at least the first chapter of this book in preparation.'

Sirius took the book that was being held out to him and looked at the cover. Occlumency: A guide to shielding the mind from intrusion. Swallowing, he looked back up and nodded. 'I'll read it immediately.'

'Excellent, we'll be starting first thing tomorrow. Sleep well, Sirius.'

'You too, father,' Sirius replied, knowing he wouldn't be getting any sleep at all that night. If the book would help him to hide Remus' secret from his father, then he would read the whole thing cover to cover before he had to meet him the next morning.

-o-o-o-o-

'Deasura Tenebris. I am arresting you for the crime of murder. Since you have confessed, there will be no trial. The punishment for this crime, when committed by a vampire, is execution. You will be taken to the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures' holding cells, and will remain there until the date of your execution.'

Deasura sighed. 'Yes, yes, I expected as much. But first, would you confirm that the prisoner currently being held for Marcus' murder will be released at once?'

Scrimgeour glanced at Mr Ashdown, the representative from the DRCMC, who nodded and turned back to Deasura. 'They will.'

'I will make sure of it, Dea. Rest assured,' Albus told her. 'Would you like to take my arm?'

'She must be restrained,' Ashdown said. His first name was Brian apparently, but Albus disliked him immensely and was not at all inclined to allow the man the use of the name they shared.

He allowed the full breadth of his power to show in his eyes as he stared the man down. 'That will not be necessary. She came here to confess of her own free will and she is unarmed. I will escort her to the holding cells with her dignity intact, Mister Ashdown, and if you have a problem with that, you can take it up with Eugenia,' he said, purposefully using the Minister's first name, 'and while you're at it, remind her that we are to have tea together next weekend. She has a tendency to forget these things.'

Mister Ashdown paled, but he stood his ground. 'If anything were to happen on the way to the cells, you would be held partially responsible for it, Mister Dumbledore. It is in your best interest to not interfere with procedure.'

'Nothing will happen,' Albus said serenely. 'And it's Professor Dumbledore if you don't mind.'

Deasura stood and took his arm, offering a smile to the Aurors who had treated her with dignity and kindness while they took her statement, before turning to Ashdown with an icy stare. 'I have no intention of trying to escape, Mister Ashdown. I am resigned to my fate.'

'Very well,' he said. 'On your head be it, Professor Dumbledore.'

The Aurors accompanied them as they travelled to the holding cells, and the lift they took up to the fourth floor was nothing like the golden lifts provided for the public. It was plain steel, dark and dingy, and made an awful racket as it dropped through two levels before coming to a screeching halt. Deasura stood quietly beside him, her gaze fixed on the doors, clutching his arm. With every second that passed, her grip tightened, but that was the only outward expression of her fear she allowed to show. And Albus was the only person present who was aware of it.

When they reached the holding cells, Deasura's grip on his arm had become painful in its intensity, but he didn't complain. The bruises would heal easily enough, and if it brought her comfort at such a difficult time, then it was worth a little suffering. Mister Ashdown unlocked the door, and they all followed him inside, past several cells containing inmates. Most of them were lying on their beds—a new addition that had been installed shortly after Christmas, around the same time as they'd finally done something about the terrible smell that used to permeate the space—but a few were pacing.

The cell they stopped at was about halfway down the row, and Mister Ashdown used his wand to unlock it, before turning to Deasura and pointing it at her. 'Step inside.'

She sighed. 'There is no need to threaten me,' she told him, before turning to Albus. 'Thank you, Albus, for everything. And will you tell Emhio that I'm sorry for the suffering I've caused her?'

Albus nodded. 'I will, of course. And I will come and see you again before the punishment is carried out.'

'I would appreciate that.' The corners of her mouth turned up in the smallest of smiles, and then she took a deep breath and stepped into the cell. Mister Ashdown wasted no time in slamming the door closed behind her and reactivating the warding.

'This way,' he said, walking away in the direction Albus knew Emhio was being held.

Albus ignored him and watched Deasura take a seat on the bed. 'Don't think of this as the end, Deasura. No one knows what happens after we die. You may yet see Marcus again,' he paused to let her process that before continuing. 'Consider this to be your next great adventure and step into the unknown with excitement, not fear.'

'I wonder if you will be so brave when your time comes, Albus.'

'I do hope so,' Albus said. 'Until next time, Dea.'

The Aurors followed after him as he moved unhurriedly in Mr Ashdown's direction, and when he caught up with him, he was in the process of unlocking Emhio's cell as she watched, confusion clear on her face.

'You have not told her?'

'Told me what? Albus, what's happening? Why are the Aurors here?' There was clear panic in her voice and Albus rushed to soothe her.

'You are being released, Emhio. The real murderer has come forward. I'm here to take you home.'

'Home?' She stood then, stepping out of the pool, which was of a much more suitable size for her than it had been when she was first imprisoned there. 'I'm not going to die?'

'Not any time soon, no.'

'Who was it? Who killed him?'

'Deasura Tenebris.'

'His mate? Why?'

'She doesn't know. But she came into the Ministry today to confess of her own free will, and she asked me to extend her sincerest apologies to you for the suffering you have endured because of her actions.'

'I do not accept them,' Emhio said. 'Is she here?'

'She is. But I will not point her out to you.'

'Why are you protecting her?'

'Because she has shown genuine remorse, and I believe she has suffered enough for her crime.'

'When she is executed, it will be enough,' Emhio replied, anger in her eyes.

Albus inclined his head in acknowledgement. 'I'm sure that will not be long.'

Emhio was quiet as they returned to the Atrium and flooed back to his office, and Albus left her alone with her thoughts. It must be quite a shock to be released so suddenly from a guaranteed death sentence and he didn't want to interfere with her adjustment, but he accompanied her down to the Lake and smiled as he watched her dive in and shift through several forms before settling on that of her preferred giant squid. And when she waved a tentacle before disappearing below the surface, he waved back.

Now that he'd dealt with the consequences of Deasura's actions, he could finally turn his mind to the cause of them. Two Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers had succumbed to terrible ends in two years, immediately following Tom Riddle's application for the job. And Deasura's memories showed clearly that she was influenced by something. Albus did not believe in coincidences. Perhaps it was time to get rid of the job altogether and replace it with something else.