Pettigrew looked over his shoulder, reluctant to take his hand off of Desdemona's cheek. The voice sounded familiar, but he wasn't placing it. From the shadows, two figures approached him, wands out. One looked slightly recognizable, but the other he'd know anywhere.

"Remus, old friend." The panic in his squeaky voice was clear. "What are you doing here?"

"He said get away from her, Peter." Lupin aimed his wand directly at his former friend. Even from this distance, in the fading twilight, he could see the insanity gleaming in his eyes, just as Harry and Draco had described. Des lay sprawled on the cold ground, not moving. What had he done to her? And why wasn't she fighting him? Fear ran through him. "Get up and walk away from her, now. Before he does something you'll regret."

Peter refused to budge; instead, he turned back towards Desdemona, smoothing hair on her forehead.

Let her be ok. Please.

"Des? Are you alright?"

Silence was his only answer.

"Des?" The worry in Lupin's voice shook the air. Still, no response.

Remus looked to his right, and saw a man perfectly ready to kill. Snape still had his wand pointed at Pettigrew, his eyes narrowed and his hand steady. In a fleeting thought, he could see why Severus Snape had been an excellent Death Eater. He was scared for his life, and he wasn't even the object of the man's pure loathing. The look on the pale, sharp-featured face was clear – if she wasn't alright, Pettigrew wasn't going to live.

Damn it all, he really did love Des, didn't he?

The thundering realization didn't make the situation any better.

"Peter, damn it, get away from her." Remus pleaded with his former friend to get away from the woman on the ground. "Please, Peter. Let us make sure she's okay. Please. Just step away from her."

Snape was silent.

Pettigrew didn't move. Instead, he took a cowering and protective stance over Desi's body, making sure that anything they tried to do to him risked hurting her. "She won't wake up. My pretty Desdemona won't wake up. She screamed, then she stopped. She won't wake up."

Lupin's blood boiled. What in the lowest depths of Hell had Peter done to her? He sounded like a madman. His pretty Desdemona? She'd never been his in the first place. Sirius had been right all those years ago. Peter was obsessed with her. And he'd never listened. Just like he hadn't listened when Sirius warned him that Peter seemed a little too weak-willed. Regret on top of regret. Not heeding Sirius' warnings had cost him two best friends. He wasn't about to let it happen to a third.

Snape stood glued to the spot, hatred and anger flooding him, but too scared to move with that lunatic so close to Desi. She had to be alive; she just was moments ago. He'd heard her scream. He knew that was her. What did he mean she wouldn't wake up? Damn it, why wasn't Lupin doing something? Didn't he know the moronic idiot? He glared at the werewolf, mentally screaming for him to get off his tail and do something about this.

"Peter, walk away from her. Let us look at her; maybe we can get her to wake up. Severus might be able to do something, but he has to be able to look at her." Lupin's left hand shook, but the right one was firm and steady. Holding a wand seemed to help. "Damn, Peter. Don't you hear me?"

A sudden rush of air from the other side of Pettigrew caused him to jerk away from Desi's unconscious body. All three men looked up to see Potter and Malfoy appear out of thin air, both boys holding a tattered feather.

That second gave Lupin the time he needed. "Immobulus!" Instantly, Pettigrew froze in place, far enough from Des to make life easier for everyone involved. The two men ran towards the woman lying, unmoving, on the ground.

"Desi!" Severus reached her first, checking to see if she was breathing. A faint rise and fall of her chest told him she was alive, but she wouldn't wake up. "Damn it, Desi, wake up!" Dried blood on her neck made him check her head, where he found a gash and growing lump on the back. "Bloody hell." Her left shoulder was dislocated; there were scratches all up and down her. She was missing a shoe, and her face was banged up badly. It looked like a clump of hair might be missing.

But she was alive. Alive and beautiful.

Deciding to not interfere with Des at that moment, Lupin spun around and raged at the pair of students. "Which part of 'stay right there' did the two of you combined not understand? What part of 'you're not coming' failed to sink in? You two are the most uncooperative and stupid wizards I've met since I was your age! And how in Hell did you find us anyway?"

Draco swallowed. "It was my fault. I stole a quill from your pocket. I didn't want to be left behind. This guy broke into my home and held me hostage. I wasn't going to sit by and let you two do it all." He looked over at Potter, an odd look on his face. "I made him come along. Don't chew him out."

Lupin simply stared. So did Harry, with jaw dropped and eyes wide.

Behind them, Snape tried every healing charm and spell he knew, which weren't many, but had been useful before. Nothing was working; she still wouldn't open her eyes. Damn it, how in the world was he going to get her back to the school unconscious? He couldn't apparate with her or use a portkey; the shock to someone who was unconscious could kill. No broom. No thestral. Not even a damned Muggle car.

Remus pointed his wand at Peter, undoing the Immobulus charm and replacing it with the Incarcerous spell. "Good. Now we can talk. What did you do to her?"

Pettigrew shirked. "I gave her a blocking potion. And... I dragged her here by her hair. That's all. I swear! No other spells. No charms. I don't know why she won't wake up."

"She won't wake up because you knocked her unconscious, you idiot!" Severus roared at the man who sat mere inches from Desi. "And I can't figure out why. Nothing in a Blocking Potion should be causing her to..." A light went off over his head as he peeled back one of her closed eyelids yet again to see that her eyes weren't dilating normally.

Desdemona Drecorum, please tell me you weren't that stupid. Please tell me you weren't that desperate.

He stared at the two students. "You said she made another potion. What was in it?"

Potter and Malfoy looked at each other, each trying to remember the ingredients they'd brought her.

"Powdered root of asphodel."

"Dragon bile and shrivelfigs."

"Snake fangs."

"Mandrake juice and leech juice."

"And she didn't cook it?"

"No. There wasn't any time or any way. She only did it to get us out of there."

Snape's mind raced. "And it made her sick an hour later, didn't it?"

They nodded.

He winced. Damn, Desi, you were that stupid, weren't you?

That was why she wouldn't wake up. The damned asphodel. It would be the one ingredient in the potion that would stay with her even if she threw it all up immediately. Conscious, she'd be feeling drowsy about now. Unconscious, she'd never be able to wake until it ran its course. Making an antidote in the Malfoy home would take too long. And there was no way in hell he could apparate to her office and back to fetch one. Damned protections on the school.

Lupin stared at him, watching him fluctuate between paleness and red anger. Too bad potions were something he didn't recall in as much detail as other classes in school. "She's not good, is she?" Snape shook his head. Both adults were white as sheets.

"Is there anything you can do for her?" Harry stared in confusion at the two men, both of whom looked as if they had no idea what to do about the professor on the ground.

Lupin shook his head. Snape didn't bother to reply.

Malfoy stared at them. "What about the stuff in the bottle?"

Snape was starting to accept the perpetual confusion he'd felt all day. "What bottle?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "The one you've been dangling the whole time we've been here. The one glowing bright shiny red. The one that I'm willing to bet contains something that can help in this situation, if I remember events of the past school year correctly."

Lupin and Snape shared an expression of awe and shock; they'd both forgotten the charm, and what they'd made it out of. In one quick movement, Severus yanked the cork out of the bottle and raised it to Desi's lips, making the Acupartio Potion trickle down her throat. Once he was sure half the bottle's contents had made it down, he swallowed the rest himself. Instantly, his head throbbed in time with his pulse, and his shoulder burned almost as bad as his arm had after the transfiguration.

Still, she wasn't waking up.

"Come on." Severus slapped her a few more times, his head beginning to feel fuzzy and heavy, his stomach rolling. He could feel himself growing fatigued; he couldn't fall asleep, since it would leave Lupin to deal with everything, and the werewolf wasn't qualified to handle the quandary they were in right now. "Desi, wake up!" It was taking a great deal of effort to not pass out right then. He noticed her breathing had gotten shallower since taking the potion, her arms growing colder, and her lips had a faint bluish tint. Panicking, he shook her, lifting her entire torso up from the ground, her head lolling back. "Damn it to Hades' hell and back, Desdemona Morgan Dumbledore, if you die on me, I swear to the entire Greek Pantheon that I'll kill you!"

A couple of seconds later, Desi began sputtering and coughing, gasping for air. "Isn't that a little extreme, love?" She tried to smile up at the black eyes wide with fear and concern, but the sudden return to reality also brought back flashes of pain all over, especially in her head, causing her to wince instead. "I never knew you could kill a dead person."

He sank back onto his heels, finally taking in the deep breaths of air he'd been neglecting for so long. She was alive. She was awake. And now he let himself fully feel the aching and burning she was enduring at the moment. The pain in his shoulder and head was staggering. And that was only half of what she'd been feeling for hours.

Lupin heaved a sigh of relief and collapsed on the spot, sagging down near Pettigrew, who remained tied up, two young wizards with wands pointed right at him. Harry remembered well the last time they'd had Pettigrew in ropes; as much as he wanted to look over at Drecorum, he knew better. Pettigrew, on the other hand, shifted his gaze back and forth between the young wizards and the woman who'd regained consciousness next to him.

"How you feeling, little sis?"

Desi tried to raise her head to look over towards where Remus's voice came from, but she couldn't. It felt so heavy. Keeping her eyes open was a challenge in and of itself. She settled for letting her head loll to one side. "Like hell. Which is slightly better than you're going to feel come nightfall, so we'd better get our asses back to school."

"Wow. You're drugged, counter-drugged, dragged across the countryside by your hair, and whacked unconscious, and yet you still remember the lunar cycle. Damn, Des, you amaze me."

"I love you two, big brother." Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of glass and silver chain peeking from Severus's fist. "Please don't tell me you drank the potion. Circe's Song, don't tell me you drank the potion." When he nodded, the swearing rained down upon all their ears.

"For someone who just came around from unconsciousness, your vocabulary is impressive." Severus avoided looking into her eyes. "You were growing cold and wouldn't wake up and you weren't breathing well and..."

"And now you can't do magic either, you complete and utter idiot!"

Well. That explained why his head felt fuzzy.

Lupin took out his wand. "Well, let me take care of one problem. Petrificus Totalus." With that, Pettigrew fell to one side, having not once twitched a muscle in all that time. "There, now we don't have to worry about him changing into a darling rat. Now, how exactly are we getting back to the school, considering we can't apparate there and you two can't do magic to save my worthless soul?"

Harry turned to Draco, begrudgingly confessing that the Slytherin could be useful. "You got another one of those nifty little toys of yours on you?"

Draco grinned. "No, but I can make one in five seconds. Where on the grounds would you like to go?"

Snape glared at his student. "Well, considering the condition your Potions teacher is in, the hospital wing might be a good start, Mr. Malfoy."

"Oh, yeah. Guess I should have come up with that one. You sure you'd not prefer somewhere more exciting?"

"No!" The emphatic reply came from the ground, sounding much like the Potions professor. "My shoulder hurts like bloody hell and I feel like I'm missing a chunk of my scalp. The hospital wing would be lovely, thank you very much."

"Your loss." Within seconds, Malfoy had taken a nearby rock and bespelled it, a blue glow settling over it. "One portkey to Hogwarts Hospital wing."

The jerking of the portkey caused Desi to scream as she hit the hospital wing floor, left side first. Having Severus land halfway on top of her didn't help matters any. From clenched teeth, holding back another scream as she pulled her shoulder while trying to get up, Desi barked orders. "Harry, go get my grandfather. Draco, go find Madam Pomfrey. Remus, there's an antidote in my cupboards for the potion Pettigrew fed me. Third shelf, left side, green bottle. It should be labeled. Yay for antidote studies with NEWT students. Please go get it."

Severus stood in amazement, watching her shake in pain, holding her left arm to herself, talking through a tight jaw. She'd just been through hell and now she was giving orders like she ran the school and nothing had happened to her. Just when he thought he knew everything there was to know about her, she surprised him with some hidden depth. It made him feel weak in comparison. "I'll get it. I know what it should look like." She turned pain-filled eyes towards him in gratitude. With a pointed look, he gave an order of his own. "Lupin, don't leave her side." The growl in his voice didn't escape the man. He nodded once.

Desi's blue eyes glanced toward the windows, which showed the sun slowly sinking into the horizon. "Remus, please tell me you've been taking your potion." At his nod, she exuded relief, despite still clenching her teeth.

Footsteps approaching the room introduced Madam Pomfrey. "Oh, it's you again. Can't you professors keep out of trouble? You're becoming more of a bother than the students. Between you and Professor Snape, I swear, I'm busier than if it were flu season."

Desi smiled. "I'm sorry, Poppy. Please find it in your heart to forgive me. I promise, I'll try extra hard to never set foot in the infirmary again for the rest of the year." The sarcasm, laced with humor, lightened the moment.

As Dumbledore rushed into the room, Harry close behind him, Desi's arm was finally being healed; the concussion and head wound already treated. "There, there now, Professor Drecorum. All better. How did you dislocate your shoulder anyway?"

Desi thought her grandfather was going to collapse. "Well, I was tied up at the time..."

That smart comment didn't help matters.

Thankfully, Severus arrived with the antidote just as her grandfather was about to begin his own rampage, which Desi snatched from his outstretched hand and choked down in one smooth motion, leaving enough in the bottle for him. Instantly, the fuzzy spot in her head died down again and the intense nausea subsided. Awake and in a world infinitely less painful, Desdemona Drecorum did what she did best. She organized the chaos that threatened to consume the room.

Well, second best. Maybe third. After all, her talent for swearing and her aim with potions bottles were impressive.

"Papa, you might want to contact the Order and arrange for someone to pick up that...creature." She pointed at Pettigrew, lying facedown on the cold floor, still magically petrified. "Remus, if I remember correctly, you have exactly twenty minutes to get to my office or apartments before you begin to transform. Choose one. Draco, thank you for your illegal portkeys, now hand them over and don't do that again. Sev, drink that already. Harry, can I have that parchment back?"

The room was filled with blank faces as the auburn whirlwind took control of the situation, ordering people right and left. Without comment, Snape choked down the remnants of the potion, instantly feeling his head return to normal. Harry fished in his pockets for the scrap of parchment that Desi had transferred the spell onto. Draco emptied his pockets under her watchful eye. Remus kissed her on the top of her head, hugged her gently, and headed for her office to curl up as a harmless wolf. Dumbledore turned to one of the paintings and quietly requested he send a message to the Order's night watch.

And Desi stood in the center of it all, just relieved to have the nightmare over.

Almost an hour later, Albus Dumbledore watched his granddaughter walk out of the room, escorted by the man who'd become her permanent shadow. He'd sent Harry and Draco to their dorms long ago, shortly after Lupin had been forced to leave. He'd stayed behind to witness Pettigrew's transfer from the school to the Order, under the careful guard of Alastor Moody and Arthur Weasley, who had both been shocked to see the man resting, frozen in place, on the floor of the infirmary.

"Another Death Eater, Dumbledore?" A look of disbelief, a spinning eye taking in the view. "If only your granddaughter had become an Auror after leaving school. I don't think anyone else had this level of success with this little effort before."

A sigh. "You know that wasn't possible, Alastor."

A nod. "I was there, Dumbledore. I still regret having to be the one to give you the news. At least they died together; that's more than some of them got."

Twin tears falling into a long white beard. "Cassandra should never have become an Auror. Especially once we knew the truth. Once the news reached us."

"I remember trying to convince Cassandra Drecorum to leave the Aurors, especially after Desdemona was born, when Voldemort began threatening the Ministry. It didn't work. The woman had a temper, she did. Bright, talented, but temperamental. Something, it seems, she has in common with her daughter."

"That, Alastor, is an understatement of the highest degree."

"Does she know yet? The truth?"

A shake of an old man's head. A nod of understanding from another.

"A terrible burden, knowing her destiny and having to keep her safe to follow it, Dumbledore. I don't envy you."

"Nor I myself, Alastor. I wonder myself if I did the right thing, sending her away."

"I was there that night too. You made the right choice. You saw her memory. She was marked, just as her parents had been. We kept her under lock and key and she still almost fell to you-know-who. You had to send her away. It saved her."

Knowing his old friend was right. Still hating the decision.

"At least she caught Pettigrew. From what we know, he was the new second to the group. He should tell us plenty." The eye spinning wildly again.

Another fallen member of Voldemort's inner circle. Another close call. Another long day.

And now, finally, he'd convinced the one person who should have been clamoring for sleep, to find a place to relax. That had taken some work, since she felt obligated to begin analyzing the information she'd smuggled from the manor or work on interrogating Pettigrew. Damn her stubborn streak; entirely like her mother at times, his granddaughter was. He'd begged her to go and rest after she'd been healed and he'd been reassured for the hundredth time that she was well. She'd finally agreed, after loudly voicing her contentions that she was capable of staying and finally being silenced into a promise of resting until tomorrow. He knew where she would be if needed, even without her saying so; he was neither blind nor a fool. Experience had taught him not to openly acknowledge anything, as it would only lead to awkward moments and uncomfortable silences. All he wished for was her happiness, and everything he'd seen showed him she was happier than she'd been in years.

One blessing in a world with too few.

Seeing Desdemona alive and well had relieved more strain from his shoulders than he'd felt in ages. He'd been scared; a feeling he rarely had anymore. All he could think was that he had failed again in keeping her safe. She was all that he had left in the world, all that remained of Aurora, and Tobias, and if something had happened to her, it would have been his undoing. Watching that bottle turning red in front of him hours before, in his study, had been more than he could handle. He'd seen scenes from the last thirty-odd years of his life flash before him, as if the bottle flashed for his peril and not another's. After Lupin and Snape had left his office, he'd sank deeply into his desk chair, letting a tear or two fall onto the floor as he'd slipped into a state of self-directed anger.

I should never have asked her to come to Hogwarts.

In the next heartbeat, he knew that was beyond selfish of him. Look at the good she'd done while here. She'd reached the students, so well that many of the Slytherin students were defying their families. As hard as he resisted it, word of what Draco Malfoy had done had quietly spread. Instead of backlash, he'd been hit with a wave of like-minded students. Several Slytherin students had come to him, or other professors, carefully asking dangerous questions.

She'd done what he asked of her and more. Far more.

Despite the good, he'd had his own reasons for bringing her to the school. He'd selfishly wanted his granddaughter back. He'd needed to atone for sins he alone carried. And because of his arrogance, because of his own agenda, she'd been placed in a situation she should never have had to face.

She was right. What in the hell was he thinking? What possessed him to think he could do something as audacious as he had planned?

Seeing the fire in his granddaughter's eyes whenever she looked at Severus Snape, watching the way he instinctively guarded her in return, healed a part of him. He'd blamed himself for years for what had happened to his fourteen year old grandchild and the boy to whom she'd so completely given her heart. He remembered the day, her second year, when he'd carefully asked her why she felt such loyalty to the boy. All she could answer was three little words.

"Because I do."

So wise at twelve. So little he'd known.

Time and time again, Harry and his best friends had wondered, sometimes silently, often aloud, why he put so much faith and trust in Severus Snape all these years. Much of it had to do with the risk he'd taken to turn spy all those years ago. However, the real reason was, simply, Desdemona herself.

"I'll do this for Desi. Only for her. God knows I have more to atone for with her than anyone else on Earth. If there's any chance of making things right with her, I'll do it. Even if it means my death."

How could he ever have explained that to the young boy in whom all of the wizarding world expected greatness from? How to explain that a schoolyard crush and a broken promise were the ties with which the trust between headmaster and former Death Eater were created? How could he explain it to Harry when he never could tell his own granddaughter all these years?

He threatened the peace the two had forged with his plan. He placed Desdemona back into the heart of the war he waged with Voldemort. He risked the well-beings of more people than he realized. Everything he promised himself he would never let come to pass was waiting just beyond his reach.

He should never have asked her back to Hogwarts. However, the ultimate choice hadn't been his.

Sometimes, Dumbledore wondered what the students would say if they knew the thoughts that kept him awake at night.

"I still don't understand how you dislocated your shoulder."

Desi would forever be eternally grateful to Madam Pomfrey now that her left shoulder was back the way it was intended. Rolling her arm around, she stretched it and felt amazingly better. It was almost as blissful as when she'd taken the real antidote to the blocking potion Pettigrew made her drink. Her head was clear, both arms worked, and the concussion she suffered was gone.

How she'd missed wizard medicine.

"I told you. He tied us all up in the dark, and I had to get my arms in front of me so I could undo the knots."

Severus stared at her in disbelief. "And you managed to pull half your body through your arms?"

"Yes. Why are you so surprised? You know I'm flexible."

He stared at her again. Sometimes he wondered if she meant the double entendres that popped up in conversation with her, or if she really was oblivious to what she was saying. He couldn't tell.

Damn, she was good at the wide-eyed innocence expression.

Convinced her arm was fully recovered for the fifth time that night, Desi slid back underneath the black cashmere blanket and yawned widely. She was clean, injury-free, and safely curled up on the leather couch in Severus' apartments, watching flames dance in the fireplace. Candlelight flickered in dark corners, and a soft breeze played with the dark curtains, letting in glimpses of the full moon. All was well with the world. With a playful grin, she laid her head back against his chest, looking up to the ceiling.

He, in turn, looked down to stare into eyes whose blue color matched the sky before an afternoon storm. How had she done this to him? How in hell had she gotten so completely under his skin that he'd do anything for her? All it took was a look from those eyes, the smell of sandalwood, the sound of her laugh, the feel of auburn silk.

Tonight made him realize how much of a lucky bastard he was. It had never dawned on him before the last few hours had passed how unlikely it had been that she'd ever forgive him, how unlikely he would ever have seen her again, let alone be holding her in his arms right now. He was luckier than he deserved.

What he wouldn't give to take back twenty five years, to take that night out of history.

"Go on. Say it. You know you want to."

Her voice broke his reverie. "What should I be saying?"

Desi bit her lip. "Don't you remember? We were leaving for the manor. You told me you had a funny feeling. I told you to visit Trelawney. Any of this sounding familiar?" A nervous giggle escaped her lips. "I keep waiting for the 'I told you so' to arrive."

He didn't say a word.

Instead, he tightened his arms around her, pulling her closer to him, burying his face in her damp, tangled hair. Memories and images raced through his mind, and he closed his eyes, trying to shut them away.

Desi on the ground.

Desi not waking up.

The blood on the side of her head.

The blue tint to her lips.

He stopped himself. She was safe. She was here. This wasn't a dream.

Desi stopped giggling.

Bloody hell, he was really upset.

In fact, come to think of it, he'd been moody and possessive of her ever since she'd woken up. He'd barely let Madam Pomfrey look at her, he insisted on fetching the antidote himself, and when he had, he ordered Remus to look after her. Ordered. Without so much as a rude comment or a dirty look. When he'd returned, he'd hovered over her as if she would vanish in thin air. He'd stood by her for every second of her debriefing with Moody and Papa, and had been reluctant to let her do as much as take a shower alone.

Her amusement faded into wariness. "What?"

A heavy breath slid down her neck. Fingertips slid down to take her hands into his. "Desi, when we got there...when you wouldn't answer...when you didn't wake up...I thought..." The trail of words ended, silence surrounding the pair, as a gust of wind blew into the room, blowing out most of the candles in the room.

Desi didn't know what to say.

Pulling herself out of his arms, she turned to face him, taking his hand in hers and holding it to her heart. "I'm here, I'm alive, and I'm well. Alright? I promise, Sev. I'm not going anywhere."

He couldn't help it. Somehow, he wondered how true that statement was. He held her tighter still.

The last candle died, its flame fading in the breeze from open windows facing north, and still they stayed on the couch, silence blanketing them as he held her again, too afraid to let go.