The sun was peeking through Naomi's curtains as Eric woke up that morning. It took him a minute to remember that the hard surface that he slept on that night was Naomi's floor, and not another prison. Looking about, he saw Naomi tucked in her bed, sound asleep.

He stretched out on the floor and relaxed for several minutes; gathering his wits to remember why he was in Naomi's room, rather than his room on Diagon Alley. He remembered the Romul party, then the three games of Parcheesi. He actually won once, and came in close on the last game. He wanted to go home, but Naomi insisted that it wasn't safe and he was too tired. That's why he was huddled in a blanket on her floor.

Now that he had himself oriented, he had to get out of there. Problematic, since Naomi's room didn't have any exits. He'd have to charm his way out, and not by flattering Dorothy. "Gun mothaich siubhail faodaidh mi."

It was a Gaelic form of the discretix charm, more than powerful enough to get him out of the house. He decided to leave it go all the way back to the Leaky Cauldron before finding a dark corner to banish it. He left a note to Naomi, thanking her for a wonderful night and warning her not to take any consequences for the spell he cast. After that, it was a simple matter to leave the house and return to Diagon Alley.

The breakfast he obtained at the Leaky Cauldron was exceptional, and was noteworthy for the fact that he ate double-portions of everything. This was partly due to his being famished from the night before and a concern that upcoming meals might well be reduced to bread and water. When he returned to the Crock & Kettle, he found his suspicions would be most likely realized when he saw Mrs. Peal waiting for him in the doorway. "And just where were you all night?"

He took a deep breath, for his answer wasn't going to please her. "I spent the night with Naomi."

"Just who gave you permission to leave here?" She was clearly furious.

"You're not Hagrid, so you've got no right to keep me locked up!" Although Eric was determined to stand up to her this time, he could see Lymeon flinching in the background.

At Eric's response, Clareone turned a brilliant scarlet hue. "Understand this very well, young man! Hagrid is away, and he put me in charge of your care. I have no intention of losing control over you just because you want to spend time chasing girls. Therefore, it is clear that London is no place for you. The new Care of Magical Creatures instructor at Hogwarts wrote to me the other day, asking if you could return to help her care for the menagerie until Hagrid returns. Clearly, that would be for the best." She cleared the entrance for him to pass. "Pack your things, you leave this afternoon."

As he gathered his possessions, Eric couldn't believe what was happening. Mrs. Peal was always on his side, watching out for him when others tried to tear him apart. Why was she now being so cruel? In addition to this banishment, Willy was supposed to stay with the Crock & Kettle to help Lymeon. Eric thought seriously about refusing. Willy was his servant – what gave her the right to say where he would or wouldn't go?

He was pondering this thought as Lymeon peeked through the doorway. "Dreadfully unfair, isn't it?" After waiting for Eric to nod before he entered, he parked himself on a small chair. "If I may ask, what did the two of you do last night?"

"We went to a cookout, then back to her place to play games – board games." It occurred to him that the elaboration would be necessary. "I fell asleep well after midnight."

Lymeon nodded. "I know it's hard, but try not to think too badly of Clareone. She really does have your best interests at heart when she does these things."

Eric turned to him, dropping down onto his bed. "Sending me away so that I won't see my girlfriend is in my best interests?"

Lymeon smiled. "I'm not saying she isn't overreacting. There's a lot about her, and you, that you don't know about." His face suddenly turned serious. "I probably shouldn't explain this all to you, and Clareone would be furious. However, there are things you deserve to know, that perhaps will allow you to understand her better."

He settled in his chair. "Clareone is the second daughter of Tawney Waters, who was nineteen at the time. Her mother had already had another daughter, Courtney, at the tender age of sixteen, while still attending Hogwarts. It was rather a scandal, especially since the father never bothered to marry her, choosing instead to go off to pursue his own desires.

"Clareone was determined to grow up respectably. She stayed in school and focused on her studies until she graduated as a young adult. By that time, Courtney had already had a daughter of her own; Evelyn Romul."

Eric's eyes flew wide. "Evelyn Romul? That means that it was my grandmother..."

Lymeon nodded. "... who married into the werewolf clan that you've become a part of. Clareone didn't like that at all, feeling that it further darkened the reputation of Waters family. Gregor Romul, however, was a very good father, even if his manner was a bit rough. Evelyn grew up happy and free, but perhaps too free. This was made worse just before she went to school, for that's when he became generally known, and started on his path to seize power.

"Your grandparents, wishing anonymity, changed their name to Argent. That's the name that Evelyn went to school with, and for several years it worked. However, before she finished school, Gregor and Courtney were murdered. As a result, Evelyn lived with us for a while. When she finished school, however, she took up with some boy – we never found out who he was – and began living in Hogsmeade. It wasn't long after that when you were born, and soon after that Evelyn was killed.

Lymeon sighed. "Clareone was hurt beyond words at Evelyn's death. We knew about you, but she really didn't feel that she could raise another child from her sister's line, as she had already experienced all the failures she could cope with. You were safe at Hogwarts, being cared for by the kindest adoptive uncle anyone could hope for. We really felt it was for the best that things were left alone."

Eric looked up at Lymeon. "So Mrs. Peal is, what, my Grand-Aunt?"

"Something like that." He smiled. "So you see, you're the product of three generations of scandalous births. Clareone doesn't want that repeating any more, which is why she wants to separate you from Naomi. Personally, I think Miss Wainwright is a sweet girl, if a bit moody. The two of you seem very happy together, and I hope you can continue to treasure that. I only ask that you try to see things from Clareone's point of view. Maybe even find it in your heart to forgive her for being, well, somewhat reactionary."

Lymeon smiled broadly as Eric took a deep breath and nodded. "That's the spirit. Things will work out for the best, you'll see. Now: it would be two wonderful favors if I could keep Willy here to help me out, and if you would write Naomi explaining things. You can say what you like, and be as honest as you wish."

Eric nodded again. "I'll try to be kind. Maybe you could help?"

Lymeon smiled broadly. "Of course."

Eric drew out a parchment and quill, then paused. "One thing, sir. Does anyone know who Courtney and Clareone's father was?"

This made Mister Peal frown, but he answered. "He was an extremely charming and talented lad, by the name of Thomas Riddle. A determined and ambitious boy, he struck out after leaving Hogwarts to achieve greatness through the search and development of power."

Eric suddenly stiffened up. "Do you think he's still alive somewhere?"

Mister Peal shook his head. "No, Eric. I am quite certain that Tom Riddle has been gone for a long, long time."