Dear Mal,
So it finally happened. I tripped over my own feet in the field, and lost us our chance at catching one of the bad guys. Fortunately, Kingsley didn't see it, but I know it happened, so I feel terrible even if I'm not in trouble for it. And to add to the frustration factor, I'm pretty sure who it was I missed. Let's just say neither of us would grieve too much if he weren't around anymore…
Ah well, can't get the potion back in the bottle, not once it's already soaked into the carpet, anyway. We saved the Muggles, most of them before they even knew anything was wrong, and that's the important part. And hey, maybe next time I'll remember to double-check my bootlaces before we head out.
By the way, whichever of your lot nicked a certain thing out of my pocket had better give it back next time I'm there.
Hope your Halloween was less eventful than mine,
Tonks
Dear Tonks,
It wasn't. First I lost my temper in Defense and got a load of detentions for nearly lighting another student on fire (I've already had the 'responsible use of magic' lecture twice, once from Professor Lupin and once from Professor Sprout, and I'll probably get a third one from Mother once she hears about this, so you don't need to bother), and then somebody attacked Professor Quirrell in a back hallway during the Halloween feast. If Orion hadn't sniffed him out and come to get me, he could have been lying there for hours. So yeah, pretty eventful day all around.
Everybody's trying to figure out who could have been behind the attack. Professor Quirrell thinks he saw dark hair, and he's pretty sure it was a wizard, not a witch (no, I haven't been spying, Harry told me, and Fred and George Weasley told him), so that rules out most of the teaching staff right away. You don't suppose it could have been everybody's favorite dungeon dweller, do you? I wouldn't exactly mind if he got sacked, especially if whoever replaced him actually bothered to teach us things instead of waiting for us to make mistakes and then taking House points off when we do.
It's getting late, so I'd better stop here. Next week is a Hogsmeade day, did you know? I can't wait until I can go myself, so we can meet up like we always used to when I was little. And I'm sorry you didn't catch Father breaking the law too. Better luck next time.
Yours,
Mal
P.S. If you're going to accuse us of taking something, can you at least tell me what it was?
Remus closed the door of his quarters behind himself, letting out a quiet sigh, though he was also smiling. As much of a job as it was to take over the higher-level Defense classes from his injured colleague on less than a day's notice, he thought he'd done rather well with it. Half the battle had been deciphering Quirrell's spidery handwriting on the lesson plans, and the students had been willing to help him with that.
"Turnabout is fair play," he said aloud, stepping further into the room. "Quirinus covers my classes while I'm indisposed, so I see no reason I shouldn't do the same for him."
At the sound of his voice, a few more candles flickered to life overhead, and Remus frowned. Something was out of place, moved to where he didn't expect it or sitting in a place he hadn't seen it before—
"A note?" Stepping closer, Remus inspected the slip of parchment which lay slightly askew on the counter. "Who'd be sending me a note?"
After casting two basic hex-detectors (clean), he picked up the parchment. It seemed to be the discarded end of a scroll, and three sentences were inscribed on it in the neat, anonymous handwriting produced by a DictaQuill.
Why would a Hogwarts professor put the students in harm's way?
I stopped him this time, but I won't always be there.
Think carefully about who you trust.
There was no signature.
XxXxX
"Do not lie to me, Snape!"
The harsh-edged voice of an unknown wizard, breathy with age, anger, or both, halted Thea Blake as she was leaving the Three Broomsticks. She took a moment to be grateful that Pearl was with her father, investigating the delights of Zonko's Joke Shop (and, if Thea knew her family, gleefully fulfilling a wish list from her brother and cousins), then stepped to one side and bent down as if to take a stone out of her shoe.
"I have no reason to lie to you," countered the dark, precise tones of Severus Snape. "Every student who has joined Slytherin House this year is known to me, and none of them could possibly be your grandchild. Have you considered, perhaps, that other schools of magic exist in this world? Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, Ilvermorny, Adastra—"
"Filthy kidnappers," the unknown wizard snarled. "They claimed in that infamous letter of theirs that they'd do what was right by the boy. I see now that was a lie."
"Perhaps, in their own eyes, they have done so."
The wizard sighed. "I'm not long for this world, Snape," he said, his tone losing its harshness. "If I could just see the boy once before I die, see him and speak with him, to be sure that he's well. It would ease an old wizard's dying days."
"I'm sorry to hear you're unwell, but it doesn't change the facts of the matter. I know no more than you do of your grandson's whereabouts."
"So you say." The wizard's voice was filled with skepticism. "I'll be keeping an eye on you."
Thea looked around as the pub's door opened once again. Cecilia and Cassie stepped out, Cassie's eyes brightening as she caught sight of Thea. Placing a finger to her lips, Thea waved the pair to her side, motioning towards the rear of the pub, from where the voices were proceeding.
"If it makes you happy, feel free to watch me to your heart's content." Snape sounded distinctly bored with the conversation, and Cecy covered her smile with a hand. "You might even learn something about the lives of those who are unlike you, in one way or another. Now, if you will pardon me?"
"Don't you walk away from me," the other wizard began heatedly, before breaking off with a splutter as Snape appeared around the corner of the pub. He paused momentarily, taking in the three listeners, then smiled briefly and beckoned his wife and daughter closer.
"How dare you, sir!" The wizard who stormed into view was, as Thea had expected, quite elderly, his long fall of hair entirely white and his thin, pointed face seamed with wrinkles. He wore pristine robes of black velvet, and in his hand he gripped a black-and-silver cane, holding it as if it were a weapon rather than an aid to balance. "We were not finished—oh, pardon me," he cut himself off as he caught sight of Cecy handlinked with her husband, Cassie peering around her father's robes, and Thea herself straightening up from her fictitious stone removal. "I hadn't realized—"
"Obviously." Snape almost drawled the word, and Thea had to bite her tongue to keep her face straight. "May I present my wife, Cecilia, and our daughter, Cassandra. Also Healer Thea Blake, my colleague at Hogwarts. Ladies, Mr. Abraxas Malfoy."
"Sir," murmured Thea, inclining her head. Cecy dropped a shallow curtsey, and Cassie waved before ducking back behind Snape.
"Healer." Malfoy nodded once to Thea, then returned his attention to Snape. "This is not over," he informed the Potions Master in a low growl. "You and your kind may have destroyed my son, you may have killed his wife, but I will not let you keep my grandson from me forever. I will find him. And everyone who had a hand in his abduction will pay."
Turning on the ball of his polished black boots, he stalked away down the street.
"Such a pleasant man," Thea remarked once Malfoy was out of earshot. "And is it just me, or did he not notice…"
"He never has." Cecy chuckled under her breath. "And to be fair, under the law, he is not wrong. Narcissa Malfoy was declared dead by a certified Healer on the morning of 1 November, 1981, having taken poison while temporarily of unsound mind, due to the arrest of her husband and the disappearance of her son." Her eyes unfocused for a moment as she gazed into the past. "She was a most unhappy woman, terribly lost and alone. Better for everyone that it happened as it did."
"As for the more mechanical aspects of the case, I believe you're aware of the spell in use already." Snape gestured a complicated set of twists and swirls with his wand hand. "Nescitis vultum is the incantation, taught to me some years ago by Auror Frank Longbottom."
"Oh, I'm quite familiar with it. I just didn't realize you were." Thea repeated Snape's motions for herself. "Alice taught it to me during the war, around the time I moved into that little semi-detached in London. Tricky bit of spellwork, but useful. Anyone who might ordinarily recognize me, but didn't already know who I was, would find themselves assuming they were mistaken in my identity." She smiled. "It came in handy when we suddenly had several people who needed, shall we say, a fresh start. But it works best when cast on oneself, so we had to take different measures with the children."
"Likely a wise choice in any case, given the nature of those who might be searching for them." Snape turned to look in the direction Abraxas Malfoy had gone. "And, of course, I would never dream of lying to such a venerable wizard. I do not know the whereabouts of his grandson." Cassie pressed her hands to her mouth, stifling giggles, and Snape administered a quelling glance to his daughter before continuing. "What I may happen to believe, suspect, or suppose cannot be rightly classed as knowledge. I'm sure you agree, Healer."
"I do indeed." Thea bowed once. "And I thank you for your care. It's nothing we had any right to expect, given our history."
"Certain aspects of my life over these past ten years have given me an appreciation for ideas which seemed both counterintuitive and foolish to my younger self." Snape looked down at Cecilia's hand where it nestled into his, then back up at Thea. "Not that I will refrain from hexing your husband, should he make any further baseless accusations."
"Trust me, he won't be starting with that again. Not after what we saw, and stopped, last week." Thea checked her watch. "Speaking of the lout I married, it's getting towards the time we said we'd meet up. Would you care to have lunch with us? I actually had an idea I wanted to run past you, though I won't be offended if you say no…"
XxXxX
Remus sat in a quiet corner at the Hog's Head, tipping his half-finished glass of cider back and forth between his hands, trying to keep from obsessively checking his watch. He'd arrived ten minutes early for this meeting, and was already regretting everything about his choice.
This was a terrible idea. I shouldn't even be here. I should claim I never got that return owl, or that I mixed up the times, or that I came down with a terrible case of dragon pox—
"Wotcher," said a breathless voice, and the person he'd been expecting dropped into the chair opposite his, fanning herself with one hand. "You would not believe the crush on the Ministry elevators at lunchtime. Even Expansion Charms can't handle everybody." She undid her cloak's toggle and hung it on the back of her chair. "Hope you haven't been waiting too long."
"Not at all." Remus told his nerves to take a long flight with a short broomstick and smiled across the table at Tonks. "You mentioned a magical theory issue?"
"I did at that." Tonks reached into the small bag which hung at her hip and extracted a flat disk of blue glass, about the same size as her palm. "Probably seems weird for me to be asking you about this, but I'm fresh out of ideas, and Kingsley said—that's Kingsley Shacklebolt, my mentor—anyway, he makes a big deal out of using every connection you have to solve your problems. And Mal and Harry are always saying in their letters how you don't just throw spell incantations at them and expect them to work it out themselves, you take the time to really help them understand what they're doing with their wands. So I figured it couldn't hurt to ask."
"I'm happy to help if I can, but what exactly is it?" Remus peered at the disk. "Was it meant to do something, or just to be enchanted?"
"Just enchanted. Three spells on it, and I have to work out what they are, and what order they went on in. Only problem is…" Tonks laid the glass on the center of the table and drew her wand. "Invenio potentium!"
A thick tangle of lines appeared, all but obscuring the outline of the glass disk itself.
"See, I can get the traces started." Tonks moved her wand's tip along one of the lines, trying to follow it to its origin. "I just can't sort them out, one from another. Which is probably why Kingsley set it up this way, to try and get me thinking differently, but I've thumped my head against it about ten ways from Tuesday and all I've got out of it's a headache."
"May I show you something?" Remus drew his own wand and waited until Tonks ended the Tracing Spell. "A useful modifier I picked up some years ago. Invenio potentium varia."
Tonks sucked in her breath as the lines reappeared, now ablaze with red, green, and blue, each shade indicating a different spell which had been used. "So that's how it goes. Never would've thought it connected there. And then…yeah, I see it now! Brilliant, thanks so much!"
"Not at all." Remus ended the spell and turned his wrist so that his whole hand could be seen. "And if you'll look here, the movement extends a little bit to cover the extra word, and flicks up just a touch at the end. Like so."
"Ah, right. Probably wouldn't have thought of that." Tonks exhaled, sitting back in her chair. "So there's that sorted. Can I buy you lunch, to say thanks? Not sure I'd trust the kitchen here, but I know this little place down one of the back streets, the Weather Vane Inn. Bed and breakfast, technically, but they do limited service for other meals as well. Bit of a hidden gem, really. It's where Mal and I always used to meet up on my Hogsmeade days."
"That sounds quite nice." Remus slid his wand away, took one more drink of his cider, and got to his feet, leaving two Sickles on the table beside the glass, as Tonks reclaimed the glass disk and scooped up her cloak on one arm. "And I'd love to hear more about how that got started. I know you two are cousins, but I had thought most of Andromeda's family stopped speaking to her after she married your father."
"They did, and I thought for years they were still on the outs." Tonks fastened her cloak around her neck. "But Mum and Aunt Narcissa must've made it up at some point, or a few of the things that happened don't make a whole lot of sense…"
The explanation of Draco and Tonks's friendship, and Narcissa's presumed role as silent abettor of such, filled most of the walk to the Weather Vane Inn, with a particular day at Diagon Alley being covered in between the ordering of a portion of lamb stew and a ploughman's luncheon, and Tonks's first visit to Privet Drive while the two found seats. Remus couldn't help but chuckle at Tonks's impromptu renaming of Hogwarts, but the next detail in the story made him sit up very straight. "Was that Orion?" he asked. "The dog you found, the one who protected Harry from his cousin?"
"Yeah, that's what they ended up naming him." Tonks frowned. "How come?"
"I…" Remus shook his head. "No. Never mind. Idle thoughts and dreams, that's all."
But Harry would have been the first thing on Sirius's mind if he did manage to escape from Azkaban. And throwing a good scare into Dudley Dursley without causing him any real harm sounds exactly like Sirius's sense of humor. Or rather like Ryan's sense of humor, which is Sirius's but given a chance to grow up. It fits, it all fits together…
Except that Sirius's death can't have been fake, because he didn't have a wand. He sighed. That's what it always comes back to, isn't it?
"You look sort of sad." Tonks folded her hands together on the tabletop, watching him intently. "I might not be able to help, but I can always listen. If you're all right talking about it, that is," she added hastily. "I don't mean to pry."
"Not at all." Remus flattened his own hand against the table, gazing down at the faint crosshatching of scars which marred his skin. "Just thinking back on the past, and wishing I could have made a difference somehow. Asked more questions, paid more attention."
"Maybe stopped Cousin Sirius from doing what he did?" Tonks smiled one-sidedly. "I know that's been on my mind a fair bit, ever since the news hit in August. Mum's been pretty broken up about it too. I know he turned out to be a bad lot, but some part of her always remembers him as he was, and I'm pretty sure you do too. Remember him, I mean."
"I do indeed." Remus laughed under his breath, thinking of his previous night's dream, in which John Reynolds had recruited Ryan Blake to assist him in demonstrating basic dueling protocols for several fascinated classes of Hogwarts students. "To this day, some part of my mind refuses to believe Sirius could have turned against us that way. I've even concocted a series of recurring dreams based around the premise that he didn't, and that he and I and his girlfriend Aletha snatched Harry from the Muggles and ran off to America together."
"Sounds like a good time. Wish I could've come along." Tonks chuckled. "So who is guilty, then? In these dreams of yours, I mean. Somebody has to've given the Potters away."
"Our other friend. Peter Pettigrew." Remus looked up as a dark-haired girl a year or two younger than Hogwarts age arrived at the table, carrying a tray with two glasses of water, a gently steaming bowl, and a plate covered with bread, cheese, pickles, and sliced fruits. "Yes, the stew here, thank you, and the lady had the ploughman's."
"Ah, right, him." Tonks tore a piece of her bread in half and tucked a slice of cheese inside. "Not sure I ever met him myself, but Sirius mentioned him a few times. Bit of a whiner, wasn't he?"
"He could be, but he also had these strange flashes of genius. Moments when he'd pull off something magical that none of the rest of us could do, that he could hardly believe he'd done himself." Remus picked up his spoon and tasted the stew, nodding in approval. Hogwarts food was always good, but the house-elves had their preferred seasonings for everything, and he knew better than to try and interfere.
Whereas Gigi enjoys company in the kitchen, and is always willing to try something new, so long as it won't be an absolute disaster…
Pushing this thought firmly aside, he continued. "We were working on a special project once—they were working on it, I should say, I was only involved as an advisor—but Peter was several steps behind James and Sirius, and we were starting to wonder if he'd ever catch up. Then, one night, it almost seemed like he'd taken Felix Felicis. Every spell he tried worked perfectly on the first go, even some that Sirius was still struggling with, and James hadn't reached yet at all. His schoolwork was like that, too, Peter's was. He'd barely scrape by for days or weeks at a time, then suddenly come roaring back like his twigs were on fire…"
XxXxX
"Well, this looks like a party waiting to happen," said a teasing voice.
"Dad, hi!" Neville jumped up from his place beside Hagrid's front steps, where he and Jean had been taking turns animating Trixie's favorite toy snake for her to chase. "Have you met Ron? Ron Weasley?"
"Don't believe I've had the pleasure." Frank Longbottom extended his hand towards Ron, who scrambled to his feet from where he'd been looking over a crosseball manual with Henry and accepted the handshake. "Arthur Weasley's son, aren't you? Do your parents know you hang around with all these troublemakers?"
"His mum said if he couldn't manage being sorted into Slytherin, we'd do to disgrace the family with instead," called Mal from his perch on the fence of Hagrid's paddock. Pearl and Cassie both giggled, and Ron made an obscene gesture in his friend's direction.
"Rather have him hangin' around with this lot than gettin' lost in the Forest every other day, like those mad twin brothers o' his," said Hagrid, stepping outside. Fang started to follow his master, but Trixie hissed in his direction and the boarhound retreated into the house with a whimper. "Frank, how's things?"
"Fair to middling, Hagrid, thanks for asking. But I'm afraid I am here to break things up just a bit." Frank looked over at his son. "Professor Dumbledore asked me to drop by today, and he'd also like to see you. If you're not doing anything more important."
"Of course." Neville bent down to clip a much-chewed purple lead onto the harness Trixie wore. "I'll just pop her back inside the dorm when we go past."
"That doesn't mean she'll stay there." Henry glared at the skinny black feline, who returned the glare with interest. "She keeps sneaking into Gryffindor Tower somehow, and attacking my ankles from under the chairs every time I walk past. What did I ever do to her?"
"If you understood her, she wouldn't be a cat, now would she?" A hint of a smile flickered on Jean's lips. "You can leave her with me if you want, Captain. She doesn't usually scratch me, and I know what she can eat and what she can't."
"Thanks, Jean. That'll help a lot." Neville passed the lead across to his friend. "See you later, everyone."
"Wonder what that's about," said Ron, watching father and son walk away towards the castle.
"Who knows." Henry shrugged. "Nothing to do with us. So anyway, being on second or third base is called scoring position, because it's close enough to home plate that you should be able to get there during the length of most plays…"
"Fudge Flies," said John to the gargoyle outside the Head's office, which nodded its head and moved aside. "Do you know what this is about?" he asked Gigi as they stepped onto the revolving staircase, Thea just behind them. "It seems odd that he would ask for the three of us, but not Ryan."
"I have a guess, but no more than that, and I wouldn't want to speak out of turn." Gigi twisted the beads on her necklace between her fingers. "If I'm right, though, we won't be the only people here."
Before John could knock on the door at the top of the stairs, it opened. "Hi, Professor Reynolds," said Neville, standing back to let the adults in. "Hi, Mrs. Reynolds, hi Healer Blake."
"Hello, Neville. Frank." John nodded to the white-haired wizard behind the desk, standing to greet his guests. "Headmaster."
"Good afternoon, everyone." Dumbledore waved for Neville to close the door behind Thea as she stepped inside. "Thank you all for coming."
"Not much of a choice for some of us." Thea motioned to herself and John, though she was smiling. "We work for you, after all."
"It is still a matter of courtesy to tender thanks." Drawing his wand, Dumbledore laid a charm across the window at the rear of the office, then added one to the door. "Especially when I believe you may be able to help me in what one might call a personal quest. Do you perhaps recall a particular portion of the first letter I wrote to you, as you presently are?"
John shook his head, but Gigi was nodding slowly, and Thea looked thoughtful. "Something about a powerful magical artifact," she said. "That it had been discovered, and could now be neutralized, because of what we'd done." Her eyes traveled across to Frank. "Were you the one who found it?"
"I did, in the course of clearing out the cache at Malfoy Manor." Frank flexed the fingers of his wand hand. "One of the strangest experiences I've ever had. It looked harmless, but as soon as I touched it, my magic flared up. An instant, antagonistic reaction. Alice claims I fell over backwards getting away from it, but I honestly can't recall. All I knew at the moment was that this thing was terribly dangerous, and I didn't want to stay in contact with it an instant longer than necessary."
"What was it?" Neville looked fascinated. "Or aren't I supposed to know?"
"Let us call it simply 'the artifact' for the moment." Dumbledore smiled faintly. "Or perhaps we should say 'the artifacts', since I discovered later that the item Frank located was in fact one of a set. A decidedly powerful and dangerous set, as you said yourself, my friend," he added in Frank's direction. "What I hope to find out today is if another part of that set evokes the same reaction from you, and if others may also perceive what you did." He gestured to his desk, where three boxes had been set up, each with a round hole on the end, cloaked in fabric. "I apologize in advance for what will doubtless be unpleasant sensations, but I cannot stress enough the importance of this quest…"
"And sure enough, I could feel it every time." Neville rubbed the tips of his fingers with his other hand, looking around at his friends' fascinated faces. "No matter what order Professor Dumbledore put the boxes in, I could always pick out the one he said had the right artifact in it."
"What did it feel like?" asked Pearl, her eyes wide. "Did it hurt?"
"A little bit, maybe. Like touching a nettle leaf, that same stinging feeling." Neville frowned as he sorted through words. "Mostly it just felt cold, like metal that's been sitting outside in the wintertime. And it didn't like me." He smiled a little. "Makes sense. I didn't like it either."
"What about our parents? Could any of them feel it like you and your dad?" Henry seemed unsure if he was more worried or intrigued by Neville's story. "My mom, or Uncle John and Aunt Gigi?"
"Professor Reynolds could, and Healer Blake." Neville nodded. "Mrs. Reynolds didn't even try. Professor Dumbledore said she was there more as a witness. 'One who deserves to know such things,' was the way he put it."
"Sounds about right for Mom. She always does seem to know everything." Mal grinned briefly. "Anything else fun happen up there?"
"Not exactly fun. More like confusing." Neville extended his hands towards Jean, who passed his pet across to him. The little black cat growled once for form's sake, then settled grumpily into the crook of her human's arm. "Does anyone have an idea why Professor Dumbledore would ask to borrow Trixie?"
(A/N: What about you, O readers? Do you know why Dumbledore needs Neville's cat?
These segments were a little tricky to write, but still enjoyable. I hope they've been the same to read. I've also been doing some story planning, and I am beginning to suspect that this story will be just about fifty chapters long. So we are officially more than halfway done, and I hope and intend that there will be no more long breaks!
If anyone would like more information about this story or any of my others, may I direct you to the Dangerverse Wiki? dangerverse-books dot fandom dot com slash wiki slash Dangerverse_Wiki should get you there. I've been poking around it some myself, updating and adding information, and it's always possible I could hide Easter eggs or hints…
I will also toss out one fun thing for you to look forward to: an iconic line from the original Dangerverse will make a reappearance in this story, but the person speaking and the person addressed will be reversed. Do you think you know what I'm talking about? Register your guesses now!
Next time: more school, more letters, a discussion about dreams, and an unexpected encounter at the first Quidditch match of the year…stay tuned!)
