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Chapter 21 – Alleyways

She awoke on a bed. A quite hard one. Sounds were coming from the adjoining room, of bottles clanking and liquid bubbling. She slowly got up, checking herself. She felt weak, but alive, and the large breakfast waiting on the low table, surrounded by a warming spell, appealed to her. She had to check him before, though, and, gathering her strength and wits, she crossed the room towards the potion-making sounds.

"Hi." She was too feeble to utter anything else, but the small sound was enough to make the man stumble, dropping the pewter jar on the floor. Thankfully, it had been empty. He looked at her for half a second, turned back towards the cauldron to lower the fire, and went back to her.

"How are you?" The Potion Master seemed genuinely worried.

"Weak. Hungry."

He took her hand to lead her in the previous room. "Let's eat, then. I asked for a private breakfast, and I took some blood-replenishing potions from the hospital ward, for you. I'm making a new batch of them, though, and nobody will notice."

Hermione squeezed his hand, making him stop. She really was weak, and could only utter one word, before slumping in the armchair near the food.

"You?"

Severus understood the meaning, and looked at her in wonder. How could she do this to him, of any people? How could she give her blood freely, and how could she ask about his health when she was the one who had been bitten.

He remembered the episode and shuddered. If he could manage, he would do everything in his power not to do it again. He had been so intoxicated by the powerful and magical blood, coming from a willing and virgin prey, that he almost couldn't stop. He had extracted his fangs after having drunk more than half of her blood, and her lack of blood was the reason behind her current weakened state. He hoped that the potions and the meal would give her some strength. If that was possible, nobody could ever know about that. Speaking of which...

He looked at the small teenager in the large armchair, too frail to raise her arm to eat, and took pity of her. He took a spoon and proceeded in feeding her, to her surprised gaze. After the first spoonfuls of soup, he uncorked the two vials on the table, and made her drink their content. She let him do it, unable to stop him anyway. But he saw in her eyes that she trusted him with her health.

He staggered suddenly. Apart from the old Headmaster, the only person to have displayed that level of trust before had been his baby sister, and she had been killed because of him. On the spot, he vowed to ease his charge's life, and it began by feeding her until she was strong enough to continue by herself. Not a word was exchanged, and none was needed.

After the meal, though, and after the peppering-up potion had kicked in, Hermione became stronger and they could discuss a little.

"So?" She started.

"What?"

"How are you?"

"I'm very well, thanks to you. But I can't do that to you again."

"I don't understand."

"Well, you see... for vampires, the blood of young teenagers... like yourself... is very powerful and intoxicating at the same time. I've never drunk anything like that before, and I got carried away, which explains your weakened state this morning. I'm not sure to be able to stop myself should the occasion present itself again. I don't want to hurt you. Besides, if I did, the Board of Governors would make short work of my position."

"I won't say anything."

A pause.

"I don't ask for forgiveness, Hermione."

"It's not that. I mean, if you were a vampire for all this time, and nothing had transpired, you would have taken precautions, wouldn't you? It's my fault I barged in last night. However, can you explain something to me?"

Snape was flabbergasted, but shook himself and answered. "If you ask the question."

"You are not really a vampire, right? Otherwise, you wouldn't be able to go outside during the day. What are you?"

After a long and thoughtful pause, he answered. "The story is complicated, and so far, only Albus knows."

She smiled. "Please, do you think I might not be able to understand it? Besides, you owe me an explanation, at least."

"True."

He proceeded in telling her his whole story, without omitting anything. She didn't interrupt him. And when he finished speaking about his sister, she did something that shocked him. She hugged him. Nobody had hugged him after Melinda's death, fifteen years ago. Too stunned to react, he let himself be hugged for a few seconds, before she rose again.

"I'd better go, now, or the others will think I have been abducted by some monster..." Her smile and the glint in her eyes was a clear indication of the joking nature of the comment, and he smiled too.

"Thank you, Hermione. For everything."

She nodded, before answering. "I'll come back later, Professor. Don't you forget my research about the new Lingua Potion!" She then opened the door quietly, checked left and right, and, seeing no one around, left the room.

At the Ministry of Magic, Creatures Department...

Kingsley Shacklebolt wasn't happy. But he knew the signatures on the document. Still, the request was strange. Hogwarts wanted to do some research about the Dementors? He shuddered, thinking of his own reaction when they were near. How could teachers allow such creatures in the castle? Still, he reflected, the castle was surely large enough to detain them in a secluded cell. Still, the only reason he could accept this was because the current Headmistress and previous Headmaster had signed it. Hogwarts' Head Boy, who was also the current Minister's son and his precious aid in the summer, also known as Percy Weasley, had also vouched on the students' behalf, and the Minister himself has seen it and attached a note to say that he had been informed of this and that he saw nothing wrong in it.

Signing the transfer order in front of the scrawny employee facing him, he gave it back for execution and sighed about it. Why would anyone want to study Dementors anyway? Returning to his pile of work, he totally missed the unholy glee that had appeared on the employee's eyes.

In a remote cottage, a mere three hours afterwards...

A scrawny and recently induced Death Eater barged in and kneeled, head down, in front of Voldemort and his current 'Inner circle' which consisting of his five older followers.

"My Lord, My Lord, I have a present from Azkaban!"

Needless to say, upon being interrupted on a scheme to snatch a Dementor from the wizarding prison, Voldemort was quite angered, and started to curse the impudent. However, he calmed rapidly when his mind finished processing what the now screaming man had said. Lifting the torture spell, he addressed him.

"Your life now depends on the quality of the present, Gerhart."

"It's..." he coughed blood, obviously having bitten his own mouth during the Cruciatus. "It's a... a Dementor, my Lord."

"How did you get it?"

"Hogwarts wanted one, and I snatched it during the transfer, knowing that you wanted one for yourself at one point. It's right outside these doors, my Lord, waiting in its special travelling cell. Was I wrong, my Lord? Should I send it to the school?"

Voldemort was thinking, reflecting about the reason behind Hogwarts actually wanting a Dementor. The only one he could think of made him shiver internally. They couldn't have uncovered his whole plan! He had kept it hidden from even his closest followers!

"No, no. You did well. But you have to learn manners. You'll put the creature in our prison cell in the left wing basement, and you'll scrub the cell."

Thinking that his punishment was light, the man started to rise, but Voldemort added something that made him flinch.

"In that order." The possessed body of Barty Crouch Jr then turned towards the large man guarding the entrance. "Weasley, you'll monitor him. Make sure that the Dementor doesn't leave. You'll fetch Gerhart as soon as the room is clean."

As soon as they left, he addressed his inner circle again.

"One problem solved, one less to go. Have you searched for the spell we talked about, Jugson?"

In Gabriel's Hideaway...

He hadn't known if she would follow. After all, not counting his aggression, it was the first time that he used his ring while in direct view of someone. The thugs had been holding onto him, and hadn't followed. Now, Tamara had been touching the ring itself.

And they now were both sitting on his hideaway bed's edge.

Gabriel was silent, reflecting about all this, while Tamara had her mouth agape, taking in her surroundings. As she didn't seem to be able to speak, he began.

"Welcome to my hideaway."

"What is this place? And how did we arrive here?"

"The place is totally isolated. I don't even know where it is, as it obviously doesn't have doors or windows. And how did we arrive here? I don't know, but your guess is as good as mine. By magic?"

He started to explain some of the more interesting things, the weigh bar and the plate. Seeing that she was still silent, he positioned her hand on the ring, and spoke the activation words to come back to her place.

"So, what do you think?"

"Gabe, it's... it's marvellous, and strange at the same time!"

"I know, I know, but that's all I know. I don't know how that ring was made, nor how the rooms themselves were made. Perhaps, if I recover my memory, I'd be able to understand more, but each time I reflect about my past, or each time I inadvertently speak about it, something strange happen. Huge black humanoid shapes appear in my mind and I start to feel so much pain that I can't continue thinking about it."

"Have you tried to meditate?"

"Yes, and it has been helpful, as I know about these black things now. Before, it was only the pain."

"Keep trying, then."

As it has been some time now, she yawned, and looked at her watch. The movement wasn't lost to Gabriel who smugly asked her to check on her bedside alarm clock. She did that, suspicious, and noticed that the two items didn't show the exact same time. She was trying to decide which one was wrong, when he spoke.

"It's your watch."

Surprised, she wheeled around. "What?"

"Your alarm clock is accurate, your watch is not."

She looked at him apprehensively. "Did you hear my thoughts?"

He raised his hands protectively. "No, but I had the same questions when I came back from the magicked rooms, the first time. You see, I didn't know then how to get out of them, and I had to spend almost thirty hours in it, decrypting the owner's notes. She's dead, by the way. And when I came back, thinking I missed a whole day of school, only the night had passed. The time flows differently there."

Her jaw was still hanging, trying to decide if he was pulling her leg or not. But her watch was the proof. She always set it to the same time as her alarm clock, and had changed the battery recently.

Gabriel spoke again, hesitantly this time. "Errm... Tam?"

She closed her mouth and looked at him inquiringly. "What?"

"I may have... a request... a strange request."

"Go ahead."

He looked around, and noticed her cricket bat. He went to take it, and gave it to her.

"Knock me down."

"Beg your pardon?"

"The ring has a special... setting... whatever, that I configured to take me there in the case I was unconscious at some unforeseen point. You see, I have been attacked, more than once, and I don't want to lay comatose in the street ever again. I have to test that, though, and it has to be done by someone else. Knock me down, and if I disappear, everything will be fine. If I don't, my work wouldn't have been successful, and you'll have to wake me up."

She was barely processing his bizarre request, but acquiesced nonetheless. Taking the bat, she asked for a last confirmation. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. Positive. And don't worry, I'll be fine. The rooms can also heal me."

"Okay. Brace yourself." And she whacked him behind the head.

He slumped on the floor, unconscious.

And disappeared.

She stood still for a few minutes, before shaking herself awake. She stored the bat away, and sat on her bed, waiting. A few minutes afterwards, a person shimmered into view. Gabriel was holding the back of his head, wincing.

"Okay. It worked."

"You're fine? You seem to have recovered quickly, though."

"Remember the time difference?"

"Oh. Yes."

"Thanks, Tam."

"Sure, Gabe. Anytime you want me to paddle your head, just ask me."

They smiled, before going to the door. Gabriel went home, while Tamara returned in her room, her mind full of information. She was a little disappointed, though, that Gabriel hadn't showed her something that he was capable of. She had only seen magical items, but she suspected that he could do some strange stuff by himself too. Reflecting about the fact that she didn't tell him everything about the elements either, she suspected that another information sharing meeting would be scheduled soon.

Hogwarts...

Three days after their request, Hermione and Severus still hadn't got information about their delivery, and started to get upset. After all, the potion was ready, and it wouldn't stay fresh for too long. They had done everything to get the creature in the castle, even persuading Percy to vouch for it.

They inquired about this to Dumbledore, who talked to McGonagall, who contacted Shacklebolt, who answered that the delivery order had been given immediately. Upon contacting the prison, they found it strange that a Dementor had effectively been removed from there, but hadn't been sent to Hogwarts. That could mean many things, but the most obvious, at least in Hermione's eyes, was also the most dreadful. Voldemort could be in possession of the missing creature, and that meant that they had to speed up their own research. If the Dark Lord was to find how to persuade the dark creatures to ally with him, he would take over the prison, recover his long-lost followers, and start a new reign of terror. Few wizards knew how to defend against Dementors, and even those who knew how weren't always able to effectively cast the famous Patronus spell. As she was speaking about this with Dumbledore and Snape, they all shuddered on the thought of Dementors rampaging neighbourhoods, wizarding as well as muggle. As the circumstances asked to act quickly, they filled the same form again, asking the same people to vouch, and telling them that the first form had been lost.

Albus Dumbledore would follow the document wherever it passed, and he would have as secondary mission to check the people who would handle it about possession or magical traces of Voldemort. Although he didn't find anyone guilty, he was successful in bending the laws to bring two Dementors back. He had reflected, at one point, that the older students could train themselves against a real one for their Patronus spell, thus gaining a little edge should Voldemort succeed in liberating the prison.

They were two days late, comparing to Voldemort, but their potion was almost ready and different batches had been prepared, only needing to be tested now. That had been possible thanks to the joint effort from the Potion Master and Hermione. The old Professor had asked himself how it had come that a Gryffindor could work so efficiently with the previously irascible Slytherin Head, but thanked his good stars that it had been possible.

As they didn't want to endanger students by making them drink test potions, and as Snape was adamant not to let Hermione drink some, the Potion Master got the job to try them, and Hermione and Madam Pomfrey would be there to assist him. Dumbledore was there as well, having decided to take notes about everything. And one of the Dementors was there, in his transport cell. Even from there, though, the creature's effect could be felt everywhere in the room, and nobody was humorous now.

Upon imbibing the first potion, Snape put his hand to his ears and screamed, before collapsing, shivering. Mumbling about too much asphodel, Hermione levitated him to his bed where Madam Pomfrey checked on his vital stats. When it appeared that he was only unconscious, they woke him up magically, and asked about it. "What happened?"

"I heard cries of pain, and I felt it. I think I felt a part of whatever pain they inflicted to the people they killed. Some of the personalities I got in touch with were really old, and had suffered for a long time, probably centuries."

Albus was scribbling, taking notes and inferring primary conclusions. "It may be like the potion of Empathy, Severus?"

"Yes, Albus, although I don't remember using the same elements."

"We'll try that later. Are you ready for the next?"

Bracing himself, Snape nodded and went next to the creature. This time, he took a chair and sat on it with the potion glass in his hand. He raised his cup to his lips, drank it, and froze.

"Severus! Severus!" Madam Pomfrey rushed to the statue-like form of the Potion Master. They tried to cast enervate on him, unsuccessfully. They also tried to move him, but it was as if he was stuck to his chair. He wouldn't bulge. They finally decided to wait to see if the potion was limited in time.

After an hour, they noticed the first stirrings. Small eye movements and twitching in his fingers. They had to wait another hour to get the Potion Master back to his full capacity. He was panting, and appeared really tired.

"Your conclusions, Severus?"

Snape was so tired that he only could mutter a few words while lying on his bed. "Potion... slows time. Read... lips... seem to talk. Too... too high, and... can't answer... anyway."

He went to sleep immediately, and Dumbledore went to put the Dementor cell in the adjoining room. No need to plague the Potion Master's sleep with nightmares. After he came back, he conjured some tea, and addressed a thoughtful Hermione.

"So, Miss Granger, your ideas?"

"I don't know, sir. We might have put too much of the Adaptive draught in it. But, from what he said, he might have heard something from them. After all, they still have a mouth, even if we discovered that it didn't contain a tongue after all. They perhaps have a language of their own. We just have to observe them. Sir?"

"Yes?"

"I'd like to have permission to bring both of them in a cell, to study how they interact."

"It's an interesting idea, Miss Granger. I don't see why you'd ask for permission."

She looked at him pointedly, and repeated her question.

"I'd like to have permission to bring them both in a cell, for me to study how they interact."

"Oh! I'm sorry, but..."

"Professor Snape will be up when you'll have put them both in place, and he'll certainly make sure that I don't have any problems. Besides, it's my... our research project."

The old man looked at her, then at the sleeping form of said Professor, seeming lost in thought. He then nodded, and agreed, although reluctantly.

Hermione wasn't finished, though.

"I'd like you to nullify Hogwarts' interference about muggle electronics in the room, sir. I have an idea that could be tried using some muggle devices."

Albus Dumbledore and Poppy Pomfrey looked at each other in wonder, before the old man asked "Which kind?"

"Advanced sound processing devices, mainly. If what I think is true, from what Professor Snape said before collapsing, they might actually communicate with sound, but we humans can't hear them."

The Transfiguration Professor shook his head. "I'm sorry about that, but even I can't lower Hogwarts interference on muggle devices. I've heard of one of the Professors who was able to, but it was a long time ago, and nobody ever studied the field since then."

"Which field, Professor?"

"Technomancy."

She thought about it for a moment, before answering. "I've never heard of it."

"It is about mixing muggle devices with magic. With Grindewald, then Voldemort campaigning against muggles, each and every wizard involved in that field either died or abandoned it. The last one I knew was teaching here, it was..." he looked down at his cup, before continuing, in a subdued tone, "it was Harry's grandmother."

"Harry's grandmother? How comes he never talked about it?" Glancing at the shameful face of the old man, she elaborated. "You haven't talked him about it, have you?"

He shook his head, and tried to justify. "I hadn't known this, as she was teaching under her maiden name. It was a fluke we made the connection, as I only remembered about her when we had this intrusion..."

"Which intrusion?"

He sighed, reflecting that she was too perceptive for her own good, or he was plainly too old for verbal jousting. "We had a... unknown person, portkeying in here. Twice. In Professor Shaun's old office."

"Who's Professor Shaun?"

"She was the Technomancy Professor we are talking about. Harry's grandmother."

"Okay. Who was it? The intruder, I mean."

"We don't know."

She looked at him in bewilderment. "You don't know? You don't know?"

"Minerva and I discussed about it, and despite a spell, I was only able to determine that it was a boy."

"How old?"

"I don't know either. Between twelve and eighteen, I'd say. But I know that he's a proficient metamorphmagus. Perhaps even more than Tonks."

"Who's Tonks? And what's a metamorphmagus?" Hermione was learning many things today.

He sighed. "She is an Auror, and she can change her facial features. Interesting for cover missions. She's the only alive metamorphmagus I know about, as the gift is pretty rare."

"Thank you. I think I understand better now. But... how comes the Ministry could have approved teaching something that goes against the Office of Muggle Artefact Misuse? When Ron's father wasn't Minister, he often talked about it."

"That Office had been created by Fudge soon after he came into his position."

"Oh. Okay. So, I guess that it has disappeared now?"

"Not yet. But with Arthur on the job, I guess that its employee will be dispatched on other services soon."

She nodded, and they stayed silent for a long time, the silence only broken by the Potion Professor's deep breathing and the clanking of their teacups.

Hermione started again. "So, what can we do? We can't really set the Dementors free to study then, can we?"

"That's it. For this to work, we can't use Hogwarts. I could suggest a couple of places, but I gather that you want them nearby?"

"Yes, sir."

"You can use one of Hogsmeade abandoned houses. There is one in particular that can be reached through a subterranean passage from the castle."

"Not this one." The voice surprised them. Severus Snape was awake, although still lying on the bed, his face towards them, his eyes watching them intensely.

"Ah, nice to see you are up and about, Severus."

Getting up, the man answered. "Pleasure shared, Albus."

Standing also, Madam Pomfrey excused herself. "I'm sorry, but I have an infirmary to manage, so, if you'll excuse me..."

"Of course, Poppy," answered Dumbledore. "Thank you for being there."

After the hospital matron left, Severus Snape turned towards his senior colleague. "So, Albus, where is the creature?"

"Miss Granger suggested we put it away for our own comfort, yours included."

He passed his hand in his hair, trying to discipline it, but to no avail. The movement was noted by Hermione as one of Harry's numerous habits. Besides, both of them had been working on the potions non-stop, and their face, hair, and hands held residue of potion ingredients. It wasn't helping the already greasy nature of the Potion Master's hair.

"Thank you. Why did you want to use the Shrieking Sack for?"

"You know about it?"

"Of course I know! I've almost been killed by a werewolf there, as if you wouldn't remember!"

Dumbledore thought about it somewhat, before nodding. "You are quite right, I hadn't recalled that little incident immediately..."

Snape snorted. "Little incident! Well..."

Fed up about the bantering, obviously about an old argument, Hermione interrupted them. "We have something to solve, then." At their inquiring stares, she continued. "Where are we going to put them?"

"What?"

Sensing that the Potion Master needed an update on the discussion held while he was out, she repeated her conclusions and the request she had made to Dumbledore.

He understood her reasoning and added his own comments. When he was frozen, it had seemed only like if a few seconds had happened while, for the others, several minutes had passed. In that time, he had seen everything in fast motion, and had noticed that the Dementor's 'lips' were moving, as if speaking, although very slowly. Agreeing on the possible use of muggle tools, he proposed to use his own house.

"Severus, I can't allow you to put Dementors so near to muggles! Besides, it's too far for you to travel, especially with Miss Granger."

"Albus, I'm sorry, but, as you are not the Headmaster anymore, you can't really disallow anything from me, now."

The old man muttered, "I knew I was to regret my decision some day."

Snape continued. "Besides, it wouldn't be as if they were in contact with the muggles. You know that the house is magically expanded inside, and I can improve one of the centre rooms so that nobody will feel them from outside at all. And Miss Granger seems to hold herself quite well recently."

Hermione reacted to the pique, falsely menacing to slap his arm. "Only recently? I'll show you!"

When Dumbledore chuckled lightly, she calmed herself and blushed.

Becoming serious again, the aged Professor asked "Are you sure about that? Both of you?"

"Yes, Albus."

"Affirmative, sir."

"Let's move them, then."

"Albus?" Severus was looking at his feet, but continued. "May I ask you something?"

Looking at his younger and suddenly shy colleague inquiringly, Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, you may."

"Can you put the house under Fidelius? You know that the Death Eaters are looking for me. I'm sure Voldemort knows its location, as he... he..." he took a ragged breath. "I don't want any of us to have problems." he finished, looking intently towards Hermione.

Understanding the man's reaction, Dumbledore nodded again. "I guess I'll have to put you as Secret Keeper."

Snape seemed to think for a few seconds, before shaking his head. "That would be too obvious."

"You know that I can't be the one, as I already have Grimmau... I mean, I have another location." Albus finished lamely, registering Hermione's presence.

They seemed to think for a while, and after a few more seconds, both turned slowly towards Hermione. Thanks to Harry, who had told her his parents' story, she knew what were the Fidelius charm and the Secret Keeper.

"What?"

Both men were smiling, looking at her intently. Both knew that she was perceptive enough to figure it out by herself. She did.

"ME? No way! You're insane, both of you. Sorry, but..."

Albus chuckled. "If that were true, would I know it?"

Snape looked at his colleague darkly, before turning towards her.

"You are the only one besides us knowing about the project."

"I'm not to be responsible for your house! I'm too young!"

Albus tried to interrupt. "There is no age limit, once the person is able to talk or write."

"What if... what if..." she seemed to be at a loss for words, before finding an opportunity. She turned to Snape. "What if you found a girlfriend? She'd have to ask me the location!"

He looked at her intently, his dark eyes inscrutable. "What will happen if I find a girlfriend will be my responsibility."

Ashamed to have quite invaded her Professor's private sphere, she blushed and quieted down. The three of them looked around uneasily, before she sighed, defeated.

"I'll do it. I'll be your Secret Keeper."

Northern London funfair...

Like every year, Easter holidays had arrived quickly, and the teens had been looking forward to it. However, for Gabriel and Joan, it had also meant that they would return to the fair, and they would have to manage memories of Grace and Joan's aggression there. The others had promised to come at some point, and Tamara had said to Gabriel, privately, that she would exchange some information with her elemental Counsellor before coming back. The old man had been guiding her morally like a priest would have, and she knew that his knowledge of the elements was more complete than hers. That way, she indicated, they would know more about his element and she would be able to train him.

Before the holidays, with Tamara, he had continued practising aikido and meditation, and it had helped to quicken his feline transformation, causing it to require less concentration, and making it less painful also. He could now transform into a lion and back in less than a few seconds. He had also, at one point, put the finger on the thing that was missing in his final form, but he couldn't even try to concentrate to obtain it, as he had never seen such a creature. The wings. The wings that he had drawn and that graced his torso.

At one point, frustrated about that, he had browsed his sketchpad in search of ideas, and had stumbled on his first picture of a phoenix, next to the big castle and a snake. If he could transform into a lion while concentrating on it really hard, perhaps he could also turn into a bird? Well, he had reflected, for this particular bird, it would be difficult, but he could try a bird more... common. His eye drifting on the picture, he had also remarked that the snake form would be interesting also. His mind in turmoil, he had closed the sketchpad and had gone to bed, exhausted.

Now that all three of them were in the fair, Gabriel had participated in keeping the stall, and he quickly realized that it wasn't the same job as managing a show like the ghost ride. There, he only had to sell tickets operate machinery, and playing the occasional ghost himself. Now, he had to yell, to attract the customer, and had to appear happy all the time. His first day was so exhausting that he could just manage going to the shower before stumbling into bed.

The following morning, he woke up at five, famished and his last dream still in his head. Upon discovering the time and the sleepy household, he decided to go outside and to leave for his hideaway. Once there, he started by eating a few fruits from his plate, and meditated to recover his dream and his actual memory linked to it.

It had been about Tamara.

And about his first 'furry' problem.

The first time he had had to change his appearance voluntarily, he had found himself with black arms, because he had inadvertently thought about her while changing. Now, he reflected, it would be interesting to change his face while staying human. Maintaining his meditation, he started to concentrate, thinking about a darker skin on his arms first. A few seconds of tingling afterwards, he knew that his arms had changed and he didn't even need to check it. He concentrated some more, and did the same to his face. He had to wait a dozen seconds for his face to stop prickling afterwards, but, when he got up and looked at his face in the bathroom, he was quite surprised to see the pitch-black face looking back at him. Surprised, but in a good sense, as it demonstrated his power over his body. Checking his watch and doing the customary adjustment, he decided to return on the bed to meditate some more, and to try more complicated changes. He also took the mirror in the bedroom to check the results without needing to get up.

The first change he tried was to get rid of his scars, even if he knew intimately that they were part of him. That done, he attempted to grow a left eye. He succeeded in that and was ecstatic for a few seconds, but, to his chagrin, the eye wasn't functional. He changed their colours, too, and, trying one after the other, decided that he liked green very much. His last transformation attempt was about his muscles and bones, as he reflected that transforming into a lion would normally be more difficult than just changing the size of already-present organs. In this last effort, he achieved some muscle augmentation, and gained a few inches in size. Looking at his reflection, he didn't recognize himself anymore, and thought that, should he be pursued by nasty people, he could always take this form, and leave unscathed. Taking a long look at himself, he memorized his features, before turning back into himself. He tried to change between the two forms, and found it easier to do each time. Once in the black form the third time, he reflected about his lion form, and wondered if he could transform into it without reverting to his own self in between. Closing his eyes, he tried.

And felt something like a jolt in his whole body.

Of course, he had to start slowly again. He had tried to transform quickly, like he was used to, now, but his starting body wasn't the same now. Slowly again, and focused on the task at hand, he accomplished his transformation. Seeing through the feline's eyes made him long for a stereovision, and he decided that it would be his next step. However, once he turned back into himself, a quick glance at his watch told him that it was time to go back. He had spent more than eight hours in there, and it was time to return to the normal flow of time. After adjusting his watch, he used the ring again to travel back to the dark alcove he had come from.

Southern London, in a well-kept house...

"Hey!"

"Watch out!"

"Move!"

"What the..."

"...hell?"

Aghast, the Granger parents looked in wonder at the pile of limbs that had emerged from the chimney and that was now struggling on the floor.

"That's my foot, you dim-wit..."

"Fred!"

"...ted blisterous tadpole!"

"Georges!"

Hermione sighed, and, bending, helped the top-most coherent set of limbs to get up, relieving some pressure from the now-blue bottommost Weasley. That first set was one of the twins, and they worked together to extract the other redheads from the tangle on the floor. Ron was still out, though, but a quick spell and a glass of water afterwards, everything was fine.

The Grangers had returned the Christmas invitation and were now playing hosts to an armful of Weasleys, much to Hermione's displeasure, as she wanted to study about the usual school subjects. Her research about Dementors was coming to a close, and it had monopolized most of her time and energy while at Hogwarts. But she liked it. Her parents however, wary of last summer crisis, had insisted that she take a day off to welcome the incoming family. In the week before their arrival, knowing that the Weasleys didn't know the muggle world well, they had decided to split them. Molly Weasley would go shopping with Jane Granger in the morning, and they would go to the spa in the afternoon. Mark Granger, after discussing with Hermione, decided to take Arthur Weasley on a technology store for the morning. The current Minister of Magic couldn't be freed from his demanding job more than a few hours, and he would go back alone before everyone.

Hermione would bring the four youngsters to some muggle places. She wanted to show them the places she liked herself, but, after having visited two otherwise interesting libraries and a museum, Ginny asked her to go somewhere else while they were waiting for the Underground.

After looking at her for a thoughtful moment, Hermione took them to the last place where she would go herself...

...the funfair.

Hermione was an only child, and had studied all her life. The Weasley were seven children, and had been lively from the start. Even if Hermione didn't like the place, the four others had a blast visiting it, only needing a small introduction to the shows and games.

Ginny, though, even while amusing herself, found it difficult to concentrate, as the whole setting seemed to scream at forgotten memories. Looking at her, Ron sighed but didn't intervene, even if he knew what was happening. She had to do it herself, he reflected, before letting the topic drop.

After a stall with money machines, they passed near a show that particularly tugged at Ginny's mind, but it was closed, and half-dismounted anyway. Therefore, they followed the path until a sharp-shooting stall. As usual, Hermione explained the goal of it, and Fred and Georges went first, followed by Ginny and Ron at a lighter pace. Hermione herself wasn't participating to the games, although the Weasleys' antics made her smile quite often.

The man who gave the twins their rifles teased them about having to share one, and started another joke but stopped mid-sentence, looking forward. He was looking straight at Ginny.

A long pause ensued, interrupted by a kid asking for a refill in ammunition. When the man left, the twins tried the guns, but found them noisy and inaccurate. The man then silently served Ron and Ginny, and they didn't fare better than the twins, except that Ron, while missing his own target by a far shot, managed to hit Ginny's full centre. After the customary congratulations, she left the stall with what appeared to be a giant yellow stuffed squirrel.

The moment after they left, though, Gabriel arrived to help Michael. Even if he could hold his own, Michael didn't dare put him in charge of the guns when that many people were there. Nevertheless, he indicated the red-haired girl to him.

Noticing the red mane, the teen jumped off the stall and started to follow the group of redheads through the crowd. They were leaving, though, and he hadn't seen the girl's face, something he felt he had to do. After following the group for a few streets, he was still unable to see her, so he decided to bravely step up and talk to them. Before being able to do so, though, he felt himself grasped by the collar and dragged in a nearby alleyway.

"Well, well, well... Isn't it our little pain-in-the-rear back in town?"

He knew the voice. He knew the faces. And he had a good plan, even if it was going to start strangely. After first looking around to confirm that nobody else was there as well, he smirked. Knowing that he was going to make an impression, he muttered the activation word to leave for his Hideaway. Grasping the skull scarf there, he braced himself, and went back in the alley.

Once in the place, thanks to the thugs' momentary surprise about their prey's new disappearance, he jumped farther in the dark alley, and held the scarf in their full view.

"Whom does this belong to?"

The first moment of surprise passed, and the second moment, due to the showing of the scarf, passed as well, their uneasy stance was a clear indication of their guilt. Making use of their temporary silence, he spoke again.

"No need to search for excuses. I already thought about half the things you might say and none of them will appease my wrath."

That seemed to impress the underlings, but they weren't street thugs for nothing, and recovered rapidly. Gloating, their leader proclaimed the scarf was his, and that he was going to continue his job sooner or later.

Hearing the hideous words, Gabriel couldn't hold his fury much longer than the necessary few seconds he needed to achieve a well-practised transformation. While doing it, though, he didn't notice the white-cloaked man standing farther in the street, looking straight at him. Once the transformation complete, Gabriel was pleased to see, with both eyes, the ruffians step back in fright. He could understand their reaction, though. One moment, a frail teenager was standing, and the next, a full-fledged lion was crouching, licking his cheeks.

He knew who the leader was. His new body was ready. Gabriel pushed on his muscles, and the crouching lion became a jumping one, landing squarely on the man's chest. The animal's weight combined with his velocity pushed the man on the ground, breaking a few ribs in the process. He didn't want to kill him, but rather treat him like he had treated Joan, by removing his privates, drawing as much blood as possible.

Satisfied that his prey was on the ground, he looked around menacingly. As the other would-be thugs didn't move, he opened his maw, and a loud roar escaped his throat. Terrified, the three men thugs dropped their knives and ran out of the premises.

But Gabriel had made a mistake.

The leader was still alive, and armed. When he was frightening the underlings, the man, in a desperate attempt to save his life, took his knife out, and tried to plunge it in the lion's heart. But the starting movement caught Gabriel's eye, and he jumped forward to avoid it. The blade plunged in his left rear paw and stayed imbedded there.

Roaring in pain, and blinded by fury, he turned around and lunged forward, as he had intended. His jaws took hold of the man's midsection, and he shook it violently. The man screamed in pain, and, realizing what was happening, his voice raised an octave or two. Unfortunately for him, that musical leap would be permanent. His job done, Gabriel withdrew slowly towards the deep end of the alley. He didn't want people from outside coming to check on the scene. The thug leader grasped his mutilated and bleeding groin, and ran awkwardly out of the alley. The persons who replaced him, though, were the last ones Gabriel awaited there.

Unfortunately for Johnny, he met a few Bobbies on his way to the hospital, and they recognized him as the leader of the ever-elusive thugs terrorizing the neighbourhood. Even if he was healed a short time later, it was in a prison hospital, thus with the minimum comfort and certainly no organ reconstruction. Afterwards, he spent a long time experiencing the infamous prison showers treatment. Fate may be a bitch, but she sometimes gives some people exactly what they deserve.

Nearby, a short while earlier...

The five teenagers were on their way to the nearest underground station, when Ron noticed the old man clad in white standing on the opposite side of the street. And stopped. Abruptly. So brusquely that Ginny, who was following quietly, still lost in her failing memories, bumped on him.

"Hey!"

The interjection called for the others' attention, and they soon looked at Ron inquiringly. He was looking straight towards a man, who wasn't even looking in their direction. The man was staring towards the entrance of a dark alleyway a few yards away. Turning slowly on himself, Ron glanced there as well. The others looked alternatively between Ron, the man, and the alley. Just as they started to ask questions, they heard a roar coming from the alley. Georges and Hermione, who had been looking towards the man, saw him smile, flashing a glance in their direction, and disappear. Ron stepped towards the alley, and Ginny... blanched.

Having identified the nature of the roar, she took hold of Ron's shoulder, but he shrugged her off, just as three nasty-looking although frightened men escaped the alley, running as if their life depended on it. Which it most certainly did. The roar that followed didn't have the same tone, and this time, Ginny didn't restrain Ron, as she pressed him forward instead. When they arrived in the alley, they saw a man clutching his bleeding groin and wobbling towards the Underground station. And a retreating lion.

Once Ginny arrived in plain sight, though, the lion stopped moving, looking at her. And she at him. Thinking that it was an intimidation manoeuvre from the lion, Fred and Georges, after looking around, got their wands out, and tried to advance towards the animal, before Ron stopped them. Hermione tried to scold him, but Ron was oblivious. He just muttered something that they had to bend towards him to hear.

"Don't you see? It's him. We finally found him."

His meaning was lost to them. And Ginny didn't hear either. She advanced a bit, unsteadily, and the lion didn't move, following her with his eyes. His green eyes.

Not even looking around to check about nearby muggles, she went on all fours, and started her own transformation.

Hermione and the twins were shocked, to say the least, while Ron was smiling widely. Looking between the feline form of Ginny and the smiling Ron, Hermione understood finally that Ron had known this for a long time. Her ex-friend was far, very far from being dim-witted, although it was too late to renew a real friendship. A glimmer of respect came to her eyes, though, and she promised herself to take into account what he would say in the future. Well, she reflected, she would try.

The twins were only thinking about the endless possibilities offered by an animagus form. They knew that their role-models, the Marauders, had been, and decided on the spot to try to do that also.

Ginny was oblivious to the mere humans behind her. In front of her stood the one she had been waiting for, all her life. She knew it was Harry Potter, even if the other lion's eyes seemed glazed. He recognized her as his own, but couldn't place her, as his memories were still fuzzy. His heart, though, knew the lioness for what she was, and bounced happily, menacing to break through his ribs. The acceleration of his blood flow brought two things to him. He suddenly felt light-headed. And he felt a tingling on his back. The famous tingle was back! And this time, he let his unconscious do the work, waiting for the final result which he already knew.

The lioness stopped advancing.

Of the four humans nearby, three gasped.

There, in the middle of a somewhat shoddy and abandoned alleyway of London, beside a set of trashcans and a lying bicycle, proudly stood the animal that was the emblem of their House.

A golden griffin. A winged lion.

It started to move towards the lioness, although his rear paw still had a knife in it. The regal animal looked at his hind leg in annoyance, shook it to eject the weapon, and continued to advance. The lioness saw him arriving with wonder in her feline eyes. Somewhere deep inside, she knew him, and trusted him. She advanced also.

The others could only look at the scene in wonder, while Ron glanced at it with a knowing smile, which quickly turned into a frown. Noticing this, Hermione asked him.

"What?"

"Stop. Stop him. Stop them."

"We can't stop him, Ron, it's a lion! A winged one! And she's a lion too."

He ignored her, and started to walk towards the two beasts, only to be caught by Fred and George.

"Don't fret, young brother, we don't want you maimed. These are wicked beasts."

"You don't understand? It's him! Him! They have to stop, or they..."

As if the time had been decided beforehand, both lions chose that moment to lick each other's face.

Thunder suddenly filled the area, as something like lightning bolts erupted from the lions' place. The nearby trashcans melted on the spot, and the bike's tires blew up. The nearest windows exploded, and the four teenagers were deafened and blinded on the spot.

To be continued in next chapter: Conflicts...

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