Disclaimer. Don't own them. Only like playing in the same sand box. I do own the characters that I created however.

Echo's in the Moonlight.

Sequel to "Shadows in the Wind"

Chapter Eight.

June 1994

The Albanian tavern was dark and seedy with a strange smoky cabbage stench that hovered over the tables making it difficult to see who was across the room. It was not the best of places that one could find oneself but it was shelter for the night for Bertha Jorkins as she moved to a free place at the bar. 'Ignore, and they will ignore you…' she thought to herself while ordering a bottle of butterbeer. She paid for it with pocket change. No sense flashing the larger cash about in this place. Make them think your poor and you won't have your throat cut. She was on her third sip when the chair beside her was pulled back with a scrape. She saw out of the corner of her eye someone that looked familiar just as a man who's cloak smelt like a goat pulled up the chair on the other side.

"Bertha! It's been a long time, how have you been doing?"

Bertha turned to face the pudgy lump of a man His hair was falling out in places and his teeth needed work- He was scruffy, and looked like he could use a good bath. She almost ignored him when she recognized his face.

"Peter?" she gasped. Her mind was a bit befuddled – something- was within her memory, but she, for the life of her couldn't remember what. "Aren't you dead?" she asked puzzled. Peter gave a low laugh. "No, not that I know of, maybe someone else that you know?" Bertha took a sip from her butterbeer. "Maybe. I can't remember though…"

He fixed her with an intent gaze. "So, what have you been up to?" he asked nodding to the bartender to get her another butterbeer with a shot of fire whiskey as a chaser.

"Vacation. Time away from work before the Tri Wizard starts and the Quidditch world cup is going to be next month. The ministers gone to great pains to see that it goes all right." She said with a vacant gaze to her eyes. Peter regarded her intently as the bar began to fill up more.

"Must be hellish to work for such a demanding boss…" he said under his breath. Bertha nodded. "You don't know the half of it…" she felt the goat cloak man lean on her from the other side, the smell of his cloak making her eyes water.

"Well, I would love to stay and chat, but I have to get tucked in for the night- a long sight seeing tour tomorrow." She said stiffly standing and gathering her half empty Butterbeer. Peter helped her with her cloak. "Oh, I wish we could talk more, I would love to hear all about the World cup, my friends played Quidditch in school and I loved to see them race about- Brooms never liked me you know…"

Bertha tittered with laughter as he gently guided her through the mob of people in the inn. A shouting match had broken out by the door. Bertha hesitated. Peter took the opportunity to tell her

"There is another way out- over here-…" he said escorting her up the steps of the tavern to the upstairs. She cast a puzzled look at him as they went up to the second flight and down the hall, then into a room. She saw it was a bedroom and turned to push him out of the way- fight or no fight, she wasn't that type of girl, even if he did buy her a drink.

"What are you playing at? Let me pass!" she said angry enough to hex him. She heard a silken voice ask

"Who is she Wormtail?" Bertha froze. The room was small, but, she hadn't seen anyone else in it.

"Her name is Bertha Jorkins Master- She- she works for the Ministry, and can be of use to us…"

Ice water ran in Berthas veins as the silken voice commanded her to turn around. She wanted to scream. She had to scream- but all that came out of her mouth was the answers to the questions he asked. In the end she couldn't scream. There wasn't anything left of her mind, and she couldn't take in a breath to scream if she wanted to.

Peter shivered inside as he saw Bertha fall then be rendered to ash by a wave of his masters wand.

"We must make our plans Wormtail you and I…"

August 20th 1994

Sirius Black regarded Fawks over the parchment that he was reading. Things were to happen at Hogwarts, and to Harry and Albus thought it was best for him to return to help Harry through it, through the dreams that he had been having. He knew the dementors were long gone from Hogwarts. He had let Albus know, that living out in the woods wasn't – what he had in mind if he did return- while he had found support from several of the creatures, there were some that knew of him- like the spiders- that he just would rather, not deal with… There was a cave not far from Hogsmeade that Sirius never knew about. He knew that Albus of course would know where every stone was on the grounds of Hogwarts, but – a cave was more in keeping with what he needed. That and clothing- proper clothing had been difficult to come by. A bath would be nice as well. Buckbeak would be able to find his own food in the cave, as Albus had assured him there were plenty of bats that would keep him occupied. It was a chance to be near Harry- to spend even a little time with him. He could never say no to Albus. No one could. That was the Hell of it. The way his eyes regarded you, the way he did open ended questions and that you found yourself saying- of course. Yes- and how it had cost his friends their lives. He knew he didn't have a choice if he was to protect Harry.

August 23rd.

Attractive blond 43 yr old Rita Skeeter shifted her loathsome rhinestone studded glasses on her face as her quick quill darted over the parchment. The small booth at the three Broomsticks was just enough space for her to be by herself, spread her notes out and still have a good look about the tavern as people came and went. She took a nibble at her sandwich and placed it on the plate to contemplate what she was writing. Fame came in all places, both good, and bad. As of late she had discovered writing the bad paid far better than writing the good. Nothing happened at Quidditch matches. Absolutely nothing. Perhaps the editor had thought she would have some inside scoop of – something going on in the muggle tents- she had been un prepared for the horrors of that night, but quick to grab her quill and start writing what she saw as the ministry official had said NO comment… Delightful really as she could base a whole series of stories on things that were never said or done. No Comment was just about as good as saying "I take full blame for ever thing that happened." Who cared if Ireland beat Bulgaria, but Bulgaria caught the snitch?

Pity she didn't bother getting his name. Not that anyone who dressed- like- that- was anybody in the ministry. They would hire just about anyone actually if they could find some way to underpay them and over work them. Just as delightful was that the series she did gave her an – in – so to speak, an exclusive shot at the Tri wizard being held at Hogwarts. What was that term that her editor had used? Muck Raker. Well, if it stunk, smeared and stained, she could find it, write about it, and they would sell it. Her Quick Quote Quill paused over the parchment. She smiled. This was just the beginning. She knew muck. She had enough- dirt on the prominent people of the wizarding world that she could live quite comfortably for a long time.

Timing was everything though. She was in the right place at the right time for the news on the Quidditch Cup, She would do the same for the Triwizard as well. She had to think- The boy who lived, who defeated he who must not be named went to Hogwarts… That rated the front page on it's own…She reached down for her sandwich and was surprised to see her plate empty. She didn't remember eating more than a bite and didn't have a clue as to where it went. She looked around for Madam Marie and saw she was busy. Rita sighed, quite peeved.

Under the next table behind her Sirius Black licked his lips, waiting. The sandwich was an easy mark. Being black he blended in with the shadows. It was possible that he could snag another one from another patron, or, even do cute tricks and get more food from the kitchen later on. Sirius saw a man sit down with a huge leg of lamb that was just-beautiful. Quite forgetting himself he got up and walked towards him with the intentions of begging the bone from him. Perhaps the old sit up and beg sweetly would get him a cutting from it. Before he had the chance to do that, a foot lashed out and kicked his ribs. Sirius wasn't hurt, but he knew to hedge his bet that it was Rita who kicked him. He threw himself to his side and yelped in pain then whimpered while twitching. The whole tavern looked over and saw him whining with pain and Rita standing over him ready to kick him again.

"Hold on ! What's going on here?" asked Madam Maria.

"The brute stole my sandwich!" she said pointing to the empty plate. Madam Maria looked at the plate and then at Sirius who was whining and trying to struggle to get up.

"Na, He just came out from under tha table and ya kicked him ya ruddy cow! Didn't see him take nothing from you!" The man who spoke was tall with long white hair and blue eyes that twinkled. His cloak smelt like goats as he moved over to Sirius and gently placed his hand over his rib area. Sirius yelped, then turning his head, licked the hand of the man who looked faintly familiar. Carefully he gathered Sirius into his arms and carried him outside down to the Hogshead Tavern.

"You're a scoundrel blacky" he said under his breath as the door swung open for him. He put Sirius on one of the booths and dished out a plate of food for him. " I dare say nickin food might be a site more your speed, but after what that cow did ta ya, Madam Marie will be a bit more forthcoming if you don't push your luck in her tavern again." With a wave of Alberforce's hand, Sirius's plate refilled.

October 31st.

Albus regarded the slip of paper that held Harry's name on it gravely. Harry had said he didn't put his name in the goblet and he believed him. Minerva was beside herself with worry. The very thing they had tried to do to keep Harry safe with the age line- no other student would have placed his name in the goblet. Albus managed to get everyone calmed down. It wouldn't do to have more hysteria going on even if it was well founded.

Minerva had the sense to wait until everyone had left. She looked at him saying nothing, her arms crossed over her chest. She waited. Albus turned – at last having the knowledge that something needed to be said. He took a breath "If you are going to say, I told you so, I will bite your nose." He said solemnly

"Or hire me as the divinations teacher?" she asked with an arched eyebrow. "We can't have worked for all these years trying to keep him safe to be killed- in a foolish game!" Minerva was close to tears. It wouldn't do to cry in front of Albus, that would only upset him more. They both heard the Thump Clump of Mad Eyed Moody as he came to the door and entered. He eyed them both. " The other schools students are settled in for the night Headmaster. I'll do my rounds." Albus nodded. He couldn't tell Moody that it was futile to do rounds when so many others were doing it themselves, and that if someone could get past the wards of the Goblet, they were all in very grave danger.

"Minerva, would you care to join me in a cup of coco?" he asked holding out his elbow. Her eyebrow flickered upward. The side of her mouth twitched. She nodded. Together they went past where the students were heading up to their dorms, most not bothering looking down as they walked down the staircase to the kitchen. High above, waiting while the others in Ravenclaw tower settled in, young Luna Lovegood watched the Headmaster and the deputy Headmistress walk down the steps. She had wanted to speak to the Headmaster regarding the Thestrils. Something was different about them this year. She had noticed they were very nervous around Professor Moody, but they couldn't tell her why except that he didn't smell right. Thestrils were the creatures that carried souls who were ready to pass on to where they were to spend the rest of eternity, ether to a very good place, or, worse. But it took time, and there was – a wait because there weren't enough Thestrils to take everyone at the time of death. Those who had died, waited behind a veil of death. If you found such a doorway, you could hear the voices asking, when it would be their turn. No one knew where the Thestrils took the souls. It was said that the Thestrils were blind, and that it was their other senses that guided them everywhere- Blind from the horrors that they encountered at seeing so much death.

Luna knew, that if a person who passed was un willing to take the Thestril to the other place, they became a Ghost. Most waited in silence though, waiting their turn. She didn't hear the soft footstep behind her as she looked down the long moving staircases.

"Ho, what chu doing out of bed Miss?" she heard Moody behind her. She gave him an ethereal gaze. "Just, thinking about death" she said, quite startling him. She ducked past him and went to where the Ravenclaw entrance was.

"Little Blue Boy" she said softly. The entrance swung open for her and she ducked inside. She hurried up to where her bed was and after changing she slipped under her covers shivering with a nameless chill that had come over her since her encounter with Moody. Dumbledore trusted him. For the life of her, she didn't know why.