AN: And I'm back! I like this chapter a lot. Not so much the last one. I've really been struggling recently with the size of this thing. (It'll be about as long as OoTP I think… I'm trying to cut the size estimate down some). I thank all of you who are reading… I don't know if most of you even like it, I wish I did. It'd definitely help lift my spirits in an otherwise stressful, dark winter (seriously, It get's dark at 4:15 P.M. now)

Disclaimer: See chapter 1 or 9

Last Time on Sailor Moon H: A cursed opal necklace made its way into Akira Hino's hands at the first Quidditch game, and the magic in it possessed her and caused her to attack the teacher's box. Everyone suspects Malfoy's involvement, and Bellatrix's…

Intelligence Gatherings

"Arsenal," the clipped voice crackled out of the speakers.

Setsuna sighed, stepping off the busy metro. She ascended the stairs and slipped out of the station and onto the street, As she stepped out into the cold she adjusted the hood of her fur lined cloak, which did not look as out of place in muggle London as usual today, given how everyone else was bundled up against the winter chill.

An early winter chill at that, and Setsuna was certain exactly which creatures were the cause.

For a moment, when a particularly strong gust of wind whipped around the buildings and chilled her ankles, she wondered whether it wouldn't have been simpler to take the Time Doors to London, or farther to Tokyo, but dismissed the thought quickly. There were reasons she had made the Saturday trek down from Scotland the muggle way, just as it was more than a simple wish for a coffee shop that had led her to set up her meeting here.

"The first day that Harry Potter went to shop at Diagon Alley," Dumbledore had told her at their last meeting, "There were people minding every public floo, every apparation point (and yes – that is how awesome they thought this eleven-year-old child's magic would be). They were at every portkey point too, and I've my suspicions the ministry was scanning its own systems out of more than pure curiosity…

"There was a popular belief then, you see, that he would be the second coming of Voldemort. A better Dark Lord, with a higher pedigree. Potter was as close as you came to the Sacred 28 without actually being on it. Alas…

"I had Hagrid escort him via the muggle transport, because I could be assured no one set on snatching him or evaluating his magic would have thought to check such transportation."

For today, she had heeded his advice – not wanting to leave anything to chance against Lestrange. She departed Hogwarts while it was still dark and walked from Hogsmeade to the nearest muggle road and to the bus stop: an hour's trek. After the bus, it had been six hours of not quite relaxing aboard a London-bound train, then a final trip along the Piccadilly line, during which she nearly resorted to magic against the confounding ticket machine and the turnstiles.

"I fear I've grown dependent on their tricks and charms," Setsuna mused as her heels clacked across the cold pavement. Her steps quickened when she noted the numbers on the buildings. 82… 84… 86… She reached the corner and turned into the doorway of number 88, smiling when the warm air rushed out of the small little shop, and when she saw the two people tucked into the table by the one large window.

Haruka raised her hand and waved her over. Michiru was snuggled close to her side, appearing for all to see to be checking her hair in her hand mirror.

"Enjoy the trip?" Michiru asked as Setsuna slid into the opposite seat.

"In some respects," Setsuna said, startled when a waitress breezed out of the kitchen and placed a hot coffee in front of her. "You ordered for me?"

"Figured you wouldn't mind given the state of things out there," Haruka said, reaching for her own coffee. "Unless Scotland's completely changed your tastes."

"Don't worry: the pumpkin juice still baffles me." She sipped the coffee carefully. "Are you set on drinks?"

"I think so," Michiru said, setting the Aqua Mirror aside and warming her hands on her tea.

Setsuna set her coffee down and leaned forward, withdrawing her wand from her sleeve. She gave it a quick wave under the table: a notice-me-not charm, and a muffling charm for good measure. The waitress looked right past their table as she stared round the small shop.

Setsuna sipped her coffee again as Haruka unstrapped her communicator from her wrist and set it in the middle of the blue, wooden table. She flipped it open.

"Perfect timing," Artemis voice declared.

"That is one of our specialties," Michiru murmured. They all leaned in towards the middle of the table. "You and Luna have found something?"

"We have," Luna said. "Give us a moment." Two buttons on the communicator flickered: yellow and blue, and then a pale blue light arced away from its face, resolving into a hologram of Luna's triumphant face over the middle of the table. The advisor stepped away, revealing Artemis standing beside her atop their Lunar Command computer. "You look well, considering last weekend's trouble."

"Did Usagi write you?" Setsuna smiled.

"She did," Luna said. "Another manifestation of dark energy like that dementor's… and a Sailor with volcanic powers."

"I'm not sure which one concerns me more," Artemis muttered. "Anyways," he stepped forwards, and pressed a button with his palm. In the corner of the hologram an image from the computer appeared. "Is the image clear on your end?"

"Perfectly," Michiru whispered, taking in the image of the man she had nearly rescued the month before. Here he was in a Wizarding photo, well fed and round cheeked in a golden set of wide-sleeved wizarding robes.

"Kitano Shichirou," Luna said. "Assistant Professor of Magical Theory at Mahoutokoro Institute." The image changed – to the man in an office that would have rivalled Dumbledore's. "He specialized in the study of non-traditional witchcraft. His most recent research…" Their eyes widened. An image of a book had appeared – one with Super Sailor Moon brandishing her sceptre on its cover. "Was on you."

"Never thought of myself as a research topic to be honest," Haruka said. "What's in it?"

"We did acquire a copy," Luna said. "And there's… a few inaccuracies which come with the territory of pioneering research, but quite a few astutely defended theories and detailed reflections on the senshi brand of magic. There were even a few notes about our magical technologies I thought were quite well observed for a human."

"Forgive me if his intelligence doesn't comfort me," Setsuna said. "His research is perhaps the reason he was imprisoned and killed."

"Oh, I'm sure," Luna said. "His research is not the thing I'm most concerned about, it only provides the context."

"For…" Haruka prompted, taking a sip of her coffee.

"He had a research partner," Luna said. "Whom I believe you are acquainted with."

This time, when the image changed, it was to a moving, color photo of the kind that might have appeared in a wizarding newspaper. And there were two wizards, dressed in yellow robes, escorting a figure between them.

Though that was all they could discern, the figure being escorted by the two yellow-robed wizards was blurred, appearing as if someone had permanently smudged the ink that defined them.

"Our best analysis can't give us a face," Luna said. "But we consulted the Japanese ministry of magic, and they were able to say that this is the mark of a particular fugitive."

Michiru lifted her mirror. "Name?"

"He has none," Artemis said. The frowns on all their faces deepened as they looked around the table at each other. Artemis continued: "Or rather, no name that hasn't been erased. Every picture or mention of him that we have found, we've found by looking for the erasure of a name. The officials we spoke to say it was a dark curse he cast – it erased all record of him. Even they could not recall the name he was known by"

"We did learn some things," Luna said. "I looked into what you told me," she told Michiru. "About his robes changing colors. At Mahoutokoro, the students' and professors' robes will change color to note their ranking, or mastery of a new speciality. White…"

"Means they've committed dark magic," Artemis said. "Apparently they're not sure when this wizard's robes turned, as he was school-friends and then colleagues with Professor Kitano, and as you said, he claimed he let his research partner borrow his robes fairly often."

"Any idea what turned him dark?" Haruka asked.

"No, and neither does the ministry here, only that he and Kitano split shortly before their research on you was published. Kitano was the one who reported him to the aurors."

"We're going to keep looking for anything else," Luna said. "Especially what sort of dark magic he was wrapped up in."

"We appreciate it," Setsuna smiled. "And thank you for staying up, I know it's late there."

"Oh please," Luna scoffed. "It's simply very early." She regarded the three of them seriously. "Be careful," she said. "Between this and Crystal Tokyo's visitors, there is not much guidance we can give."

"We know," Michiru sighed, eyes on her mirror. "We're in uncharted waters here." She frowned at her mirror and sipped her tea. "Tell us when you have more – no matter how trivial."

"We will," Artemis said. "Take care of them."

"Always do." Setsuna nodded.

"And yourselves," Luna reminded them.

"Now where's the fun in that," Haruka muttered. She smiled at Luna and Artemis and raised her glass. "See you soon."

They bowed their heads, and the hologram flickered and faded.

The three outer senshi sighed. Haruka set her glass down and moved to take her communicator. Michiru placed her hand over hers.

"On our mystery wizard's disappearing act," Michiru said, turning the mirror towards them. "He's done a thorough job."

In the Aqua Mirror, all they could see was the visage of the Wizard-in-White as he always appeared: with his hood securely over his face and his hands tucked into his sleeves. As they watched, his imaged wavered as though he were little more than a ghost.

The image faded away, leaving only their three, thoughtful frowns in the opaque glass…

"So we know where he's from," Haruka murmured.

"And how he knows us," Michiru added.

"But not his name, nor his goals." Setsuna drummed her fingers on the table. "Nor why he is important to Crystal Tokyo."

"Have you asked Chibiusa?" Haruka wondered.

Setsuna nodded. "She was far from forthcoming… and my… successor there even less so."

She'd pulled the two of them and Sora aside the day after the ill-fated Hufflepuff-Gryffindor Quidditch match, when Akira Hino had still been asleep in the Hospital Wing.

"Do you know who gave her the necklace?" Chibiusa'd demanded. "I know they were a Slytherin! No one in the house will say who."

"I'm not certain who it was," Setsuna whispered, and held up her hands when Sora and Chibiusa loudly insisted that she tell them who had done it. "But I will soon. If it does turn out to be the candidate I suspect, they are in a tricky situation themselves. And unfortunately they made a poor choice staging an attack on the game…" She'd observed the three of them and explained: "An opal necklace of this sort should have appeared a little later in the original timeline and also wound up injuring a student. And I believe I can infer, as Akira attacked the teacher's box, that this was an attempt to hurt the professors, the Headmaster in particular."

Megumi had nodded along the entire time she'd spoken. "So…so they didn't target Akira on purpose."

"I do not think so," Setsuna assured them. "Now on to other things that concern me more." She trained her eyes on Chibiusa, who she knew would talk if pressed. "Your friend turned incorporeal fairly quickly – I did not realize your future was so precarious that even the slightest tip towards a change could threaten your existence."

Chibiusa'd crossed her arms behind her and stood a little taller. "We're fine."

Setsuna'd raised her eyebrows and flicked her eyes over the other two who were both nodding along. "There's a very specific set of circumstances that has to be met for the future you come from to exist," Setsuna said. "I've spent enough time observing it to know. Now despite that, before this year, I was assured that it would be very hard to change those circumstances." She'd zeroed in on Megumi, whose red eyes flicked to the floor. Setsuna pushed onwards. "The Wizard-in-White and Bellatrix Lestrange present a challenge to that future, don't they? And to higher degree than I have assumed thus far – Megumi." The girl who would be her successor looked up. "If you know who the Wizard-in-White is, or what magic he and Lestrange are practicing, it would be best to tell me. I have spent far more time managing paradoxes than you."

"I-I know," the tall Ravenclaw first year had bitten her lip. "I know what the magic is… and I know who he is. But I can't tell you," she insisted. "It… We've got to stop him ourselves."

"Well that's absurd!" Setsuna'd snapped, "And to insist on keeping all the information to yourselves when there is another person capable of knowing about the future – and more capable of saving it – is childish at best and dangerous at worst. Chibiusa's learnt that lesson before." She flicked her stern gaze towards Chibiusa before returning her eyes to Megumi, who shrank back. "We have a prophecy in play which dictates precisely which events in this world need to occur for your future to happen, as well as another, unknown prophecy now in play. Now I recognize that in the future, you are the Keeper of Time and that this is your chance to prove yourself, but you'll doom your mission by your own hand if you insist on withholding knowledge that I need."

"Puu!" Chibiusa'd exclaimed.

But she kept her eyes on the childish Time Keeper. "Megumi: tell me what you know."

"I…" Megumi'd opened her mouth, clenched it shut, and shaken her head.

Setsuna's heart had stuttered when she saw the tears gathering in her eyes. She'd stepped forwards "Megumi," she'd whispered, kneeling down so that the first year was taller than her. "Please."

"I CAN'T!" Megumi had whirled around, tearing off into the bowels of the castle. Sora Kaioh had raced after her.

Setsuna shook her head to banish the memory from her thoughts, and the heavy feeling that over took her each time she remembered that she had made Megumi cry. "Chibiusa only told me," she whispered to Haruka and Michiru, "we should focus on finding the knights and the Prince and defeating Voldemort… and allow them to handle Lestrange and the Wizard." She looked at her reflection in her coffee. "I am… resistant to that."

She looked up when Haruka reached across the table and touched her arm. "I don't blame yah," Haruka said. "Don't like leaving the fate of the world to kids – even our kids."

"Especially our kids," Michiru added. "I say let's keep track of this Wizard and Lestrange at least." She looked into the mirror. "They will inevitably tangle with us as we pursue Voldemort and the knights… it would be foolish not to learn all we can about them and their aims."

Setsuna'd nodded, "I have thought much the same..." something outside the window caught her eye. It had begun to snow. "I should go back," she said. "I have not put enough time lately into seeking out the Shittenou's stones."

Haruka squeezed her arm. "Stay a while – at least an hour."

"Have something to eat," Michiru suggested, whipping out her wand and cancelling the charms Setsuna'd put around their table. "There's a lunch special with the tea."

It was impossible to argue with the both of them, especially not when the waitress rushed to their table and apologized for not checking in with them sooner.

"It's fine," Michiru'd assured her, giving the waitress three lunch orders to fill. When she'd run back to the kitchen, Michiru smiled at Setsuna. "Stay. How are your classes?"

Setsuna shook her head and finished her coffee. "Fine," she said. "I'm continuously impressed by their work ethic. Though they hard dreadful handwriting with very few exceptions." She tried hard to put her worries about the future and their enemies to the back of her mind. "How is Mr. Stebbins doing?"

"Better," Haruka said. "He still can't cast with his left hand – but we've got him a new sword now and he keeps doing well with that." She pointed her thumb towards herself, looking smug. "He's only beat me the once though."

"Twice," Michiru corrected her with a smirk.

It was more effort than usual today, with the Quidditch game still gnawing at her thoughts, for Setsuna go along with them pretending their lives consisted only of trivial things.

The wizard's image and past nagged at Setsuna well after she'd left the café and well into her journey back to Scotland. She was still mulling it over at 23:41, yawning as she meandered the long way round the lake, eyes on the stars that peaked through the ever-present haze of clouds.

Her thoughts were only disrupted by the surprise appearance of another human swinging open the wide doors of the castle as she was nearing its steps. She had to cast Lumos to see them, as it was a new moon, and thus a night with scant light to see by.

"Severus," she greeted.

"I had nearly lost hope of catching you this evening," he said, waving his own wand to cast a brighter light. "I have news… of things that are in our… mutual interest."

She nodded, pushing the Wizard-in-White out of her thoughts. She'd been pressing Severus all week to uncover whether it had truly been Malfoy who'd slipped Akira the locket, as it might confirm yet another person hidden from her sight.

It was a quick trip to her office, during which they did not talk. She was grateful: as valuable as Slughorn's information was, his eagerness for conversation oftenleft her exhausted.

She waved her wand as they neared her classroom. The doors to it (and her office) swung open. The candlesticks along the poster-plastered walls sparked to life as they walked in. Setsuna waved Severus into the office ahead of her.

As it always did when he walked through the door, the twins' original Dark Mark Detector at the corner of her desk whistled to life, rattling against the wood as bright green smoke filled the glass-and-silver instrument. She set her hand on it as she walked around her desk, and the detector quieted once more.

"Sorry," she said, conjuring Severus a chair. "Now…"

"I have some information on Voldemort's plans for the month…" Severus said as he took the chair. "You'll forgive me for only divulging those I deem most disruptive. I am trying to earn back a few good graces. But first…" He steepled his hands. "The necklace at the Quidditch game was given to the Hufflepuff hanger-on by Draco Malfoy."

Setsuna sat up in her seat. "You're sure?"

"Hmm." Severus nodded. "It appears he can surprise you and me both. It was his aunt's idea."

"Well I still should have seen him planning it," Setsuna worried. She stood from her desk and retrieved the notebook she'd begun writing her thoughts in from its spot behind the Muggle Studies texts. "Even a warning of danger however vague…"

"It would appear the necklace was cursed in some way," Severus said. "He said anyone who touched it would have immediately tried to seek out Dumbledore and kill him."

"Which nearly did happen."

"He said he had hoped for it to make its way into your hands," Severus said. "Seems that was his aunt's preferred course of action. Now, he told me he thought it'd inspire more fear coming from a first year. But I don't believe it was any strategic planning that led him to hand it off to young Miss. Hino. Simple, youthful panic." He shook his head. "I'm not certain I've handled as challenging a trial as this."

"How long did he have the necklace?" Setsuna asked.

"A night, and he was the one who reached out to his aunt."

Then I should have seen it! She realized. For she had looked for repercussions to the Malfoys' arrest the night before the match, and Draco's course from then through the end of the year had remained as stubbornly unchanged as Severus own, well-defined fate.

"If it is any consolation, I believe he has been convinced out of any further… impulsive measures," Severus said. "But if we could move on." He lifted his wanded hand and checked the watch on his wrist. "There's several other things I am anxious to discuss."

She nodded, mind still reeling from this new revelation and now itching to summon her doors and return to Haruka and Michiru in London – who were far better at putting her fears at ease than the cold comfort of her office.

Rather than her doors, she summoned the teakettle off the shelf, and set it to boil, settling in for a long conversation.

~SMH~

"Every mind's a bit different," Morgana Avery instructed Michiru at one of their semi-regular lessons on November 14th. The young witch had the sleeves of her blue dragon-hide robes rolled up as she sat atop the hastily cleared desk in the Weasley twins' office workshop. She was bent over a large, shallow cauldron. Michiru nodded, staring at the bubbling, pale-blue surface of the potion. It notably did not show her reflection, nor Morgana's, nor the carved metal dragon that was hovering overhead spitting small, colourful candies into several bowls placed at the edges of the bookshelves.

"That's what's most helpful for you against a Legilimens," Morgana continued. "They never know what your mind looks like before they enter it. So if you work your Occlumency right, they won't find out how good you are."

"Ow!" One of the twins broke their concentration, and Michiru and Morgana looked over at them where they were lounging on the maroon office couch, deconstructing a battered old Wizarding Wireless. The toy dragon flying about the office had spit a candy with such force that it had pelted George in the ear. He wagged his finger up at it. "Rude," George told it, catching the next candy projectile in his hand. He and Fred looked over at them. "Bout to start?"

"The potion's about done," Morgana said. "What do you think?" she asked Michiru.

"It smells like vinegar," Michiru commented, wrinkling her nose (though she supposed it was a far more practical method than learning Legilimens to see Morgana's shields).

"Can we try it after?" Fred said.

"You could…" Morgana said, smirking at him. "Not sure any of us want to know what's going on in your brain though."

"Oh mischief and mayhem of the highest order," Fred winked at her. "As well as several things I don't think these other two should be privy to."

"You should hear him when you're not here," George rolled his eyes, summoning a book off the opposite shelf. It hovered beside him as he continued de-constructing the wizarding wireless. "Oh, George," he said in a higher voice. "Don't you think she's wickedly funny? And her hair – it cascades like a – ahh!" George laughed as Fred launched at him from across the couch,

Morgana raised her eyebrows and touched the black hair she kept cut at the level of her chin. "I think you need to revise your understanding of a cascade, boyfriend of mine," she said to Fred.

"Or you could appreciate the sentiment," Michiru murmured, Morgana saw her smirking and blushed.

"Well… In any case…" Morgana turned towards the potion again and so did Michiru. "I'll use this today … and you can see what I've done." She put her wand to her temple and closed her eyes.

A few moments later, she grimaced and drew her wand away, and with it a glowing thread. It was not unlike those Michiru had seen shimmering in the cabinet in Dumbledore's office.

But this one was red.

Morgana released it into the cauldron, and the potion in it turned the same, vivid red color. The surface of it became translucent, so much that the gleaming bottom of the cauldron was visible.

"Well that looked positively mental," George commented.

Morgana chuckled and settled herself more comfortably on the desk, crossing her legs and resting her hands on her knees. She closed her eyes "I've never actually used this," she said. "So if you get lost in my head, I'm sorry ahead of time… but I'm pretty sure it will work."

"Hmm…" Michiru leaned over the red potion again. Her hand hesitated as she lifted it away from the rim of the cauldron. Then she dipped her fingers into the potion.

It glowed, and suddenly Michiru was falling forwards, tumbling down through the red potion. As she fell, the color faded, until Michiru was looking only at darkness. The feeling of falling slowed and then ceased. She looked to the left and then right, then down, only darkness. "This is your mind?" Michiru wondered, staring into the dark. She looked up. There was a point of red light high above, the surface of the potion?

"You're looking the wrong way," Morgana said. And then Michiru noticed the shorter woman standing beside her, in the same blue dragon-hide robes. She was facing the opposite direction.

Michiru turned around. And stepped quickly back.

Looming over them, glaring down with deep, black, eye sockets, was the metallic image of a skull mask: with a gleaming metal beak where a nose might fit and spear shaped holes carved into a grill that formed the mouth.

"This is a Death Eater's mask," Michiru said.

"It's my father's," Morgana told her, looking up at the mask. "It used to hang over my bed. My mother always said it would protect me." She shrugged. "I've thought of changing this shield for a while… but having it will probably be useful." She walked up to the mask and put her hand on the imposing metal face. "This is the first obstacle a Legilimens would have to pass. So it should be quite forbidding. The more effort they have to put into forcing their way into your thoughts, the less energy they'll have to navigate through the rest of your mind. Of course for our purposes…" Morgana snapped her fingers.

The spear shaped grates over the mouth of the mask began to glow green and with a jarring groan the metal jaw opened, creating a doorway. Michiru peered closely into it as they walked forwards, expecting a hallway awash in green lights as there were in the Slytherin dorms.

Instead, as soon as they passed the threshold of the mask, the light changed from green to a pale lavender. Michiru blinked several times as she recognized the fog.

"I changed this recently," Morgana said, walking ahead of Michiru into the replica of the Time Dimension. "Your next set of Occlumency shields should be confusing. That sort are the most difficult to maintain, so ideally it should be either of two things: simple and familiar, or in this case…" she gestured to the fog that moved around them in chaotic swirls. "A place whose function is the same as your goal."

"Will I get lost in here?" Michiru asked, turning all around. It looked slightly different from the Time Dimension. If she squinted she could see the rectangular outlines of several doors through the mist.

"I don't think so," Morgana said. "Not unless I want you to." She closed her eyes. "To keep a Legilimens out, you need the rest of your mind organized." The fog faded, and the forms of seven identical doors appeared around them, a green or silver light above each one. "My mother recommended seven because it's a magical number. Which works well enough. I keep something different behind each one." She pointed to the one on the far left. "Childhood," and then pointed to the others, naming them in turn: "Lessons, Friendships, Likes, Dislikes, Fears, Dreams." She turned to Michiru. "A Legilimens has to break into a particular one if they want to access certain information… and then they have to know which door they need. Most will run out of will power and their magic will fail before they've found what they want."

Michiru nodded. "And what about a particularly powerful one?"

"Like Voldemort?" Morgana said, and Michiru frowned as the Childhood and Fears doors both rattled. Morgana flushed. "Sorry… yes a strong Legilimens could get past no matter how good you were at hiding things… which brings me back to the fog." She closed her eyes again and the fog reappeared around them, obscuring the seven doors completely. "So let's say they broke through that mask I had outside and got in here. This looks messy at first glance, and I could let it be messier… I can keep things here. Songs that have been stuck in my head…" The meandering tune of a pop song began to swirl around them along with the fog. "Reminders." Bits of stray parchment swirled past. Michiru caught one. Dinner w/Penelope at 19:00. "If I've had enough time to prepare something," Morgana said. "It could look like this too…"

Suddenly a wind tickled Michiru's arms and blew through her hair. The swirling motion of the fog intensified and snatches of conversation filled the space around them, all in Morgana's voice: "Shield cloaks are out of stock… that'll be 17 sickles and 5 knuts… Have I forgot the floo powder?... I hate that spell…"

"It's a bit more chaotic." Michiru murmured.

"Exactly." Morgana said, her eyes still closed. The wind died down. The snatches of thought faded. "If I projected that to a Legilimens they'd assume I wasn't a very powerful Occlumens, because they would think all my magic went into the mask and the rest of my mind was wide open." Morgana opened her eyes and looked at Michiru. "If you can do that, it will allow you to do the most difficult thing you can do as an Occlumens: lie." Morgana kept her eyes closed. She was frowning, deep in concentration. She spread her hands wide. "Ask a question… one you know the answer to."

Michiru thought a moment. "Whom do you love?" she asked.

Morgana smirked and breathed his name as though it were a great secret: "Maximus Warrington."

Several doors hidden in the fog rattled and burst open and the room was at once full of memories. Michiru looked around and saw on the left: a beard-less Warrington sliding into the seat next to a younger Avery in class and leaning into her space; another of their first kiss under the mistletoe outside the Great Hall, Warrington cupping her face as she strained upwards on her tip toes to kiss the boy who'd just had a growth spurt.

And one last scene appeared in the fog: an angry Warrington walking away from Avery, who was glaring down at a textbook. Michiru heard him speak as he vanished into the fog. "You don't even let me copy your homework in class – what girlfriend doesn't help her wizard pass his OWLS?"

"You get the idea," Morgana said, all the images fading away.

Michiru looked around the room again, imagining the seven doors spaced through the fog. "And you know these work?"

"They've been tested a few times," Morgana admitted. "Never against any well-known Legilimens though." She cocked her head. "You think there's a weakness?"

Michiru looked at the seven silver and green lights that denoted the doors' positions in the fog. "Only that if you happened to be tired, I should think it would be easier for a mind-reader to get the truth out of you."

Morgana nodded. "I thought of that actually, which is another reason seven is a good number of doors."

"Why's that?"

Morgana pointed up. And when Michiru looked, a trap door was materializing on the lavender ceiling of the room. "Most wizards wouldn't look for an eighth." It was the only door without a light over it, Michiru noticed, and the only door with a lock.

"Secrets," Morgana whispered. And then she and the scene around them melted away into darkness once again.

Michiru looked up, seeing the red light from the surface of their cauldron. She reached for it.

She rushed upwards and the cauldron tossed her into the air. She landed on her feet on the workshop floor.

On the desk, Morgana opened her eyes and stretched. She reached for her wand and put the tip into the shallow cauldron, drawing the red-thread out. It strained towards her, rushing back into her temple.

The sky outside had darkened since they'd started – so much so that one of the twins had lit the red lamps around the workroom. The two had gone now, and taken the wizarding wireless they'd been tinkering with away with them. The toy dragon still circled overhead, and its small candies were now strewn all across the floor.

"So that's how Occlumency shields will look," Morgana said, "if you get very good at it."

"And how long does it take to be very good?" Michiru asked. "Because most books say you need to practice for years."

"Well that's why I let you see mine – now you have a target to build towards, you might do it more quickly." Morgana frowned at her shoes. "You paint don't you? Designing Occlumency shields should be no trouble for you to visualize."

"But how long did it take you to learn?" Michiru pressed.

Morgana shrugged. "I don't know really… I could resist a Legilimens by the time I was nine, but I didn't properly learn Occlumency until I read a book on it when I was twelve." She looked out the window. "I had the mask-shield made in a month after I'd read about the theory. The room with the doors I've built up over time. It's changed a lot. Get's easier each time though."

"How did you learn it so early?" Michiru murmured.

Morgana kept staring out the window.

"You don't have to tell me."

The stout, black-haired Slytherin shook her head. "No, it's alright… it's only an old pure-blooded thing," she said without looking away from the window. "There's an tradition that thinks book learning's… subpar… And another that you can absolutely use magic before you're eleven, it's only the uncivilized muggleborns that can't." She sighed and whipped her wand over the cauldron, vanishing the potion inside. "My mother and father are two who believe that, and that you never learn to do a thing properly unless you're put in a situation where you need to learn it. And my mother decided after I'd started displaying magic consistently, that I would probably need Occlumency given 'the times.' She decided if I were faced with a Legilimens, I would become a good Occlumens." Morgana Avery waved her wand again. The cauldron on the desk shrank and levitated up onto the shelves at the back of the workroom, tucking itself between two, thick potions tomes. "She wasn't a Legilimens herself, but it's easy enough to hire a tutor."

"And all pureblood families do that?" Michiru asked, crossing her arms.

"No, but everyone of my mother's friends did. And they were right: some of us did become good Occlumens." Morgana shrugged. "And then… some of us became Gregory Goyle…"

Michiru stared at Morgana as she shook her head, hopped off the desk and set about returning it to its original state of chaos. Papers and trinkets that had flown to the shelves upon the start of their lesson today rushed back, hovering in the air. A new item would rush down to the desktop each time Morgana flicked her eyes to a new spot. Her wand, Michiru noticed, was occupied with packaging up the potion brewing supplies, then to changing the lamp lights around the office from red hued to a calming silver, all without a word.

Most wix, Michiru had noticed, fell back on simpler magic and voiced spells when they were tired or upset. Morgana Avery seemed to default to the opposite, as if the restraint she used her magic with during the day fell away as the effort of appearing unremarkable exhausted her.

And perhaps she really is exceptionally powerful, Michiru reasoned, but I've also seen older wix do this sort of thing without any trouble. So perhaps her childhood has allowed her to develop her magic more quickly…

Morgana's plan, to her understanding, was to use the potion every week so that Morgana could judge the progress of Michiru's Occlumency shields, but their creation would be entirely dependent on Michiru's discipline.

I'm like her though, Michiru thought. I'm better when I'm challenged.

She'd thought of her request by the time Morgana'd got done returning all the twin's paperworkto disorder. But she waited to voice it until all the objects had left the air, and until Morgana Avery had lowered her wand, and leaned against the front of the desk.

"You're a Legilimens as well aren't you?" Michiru guessed. Morgana's head snapped up. "I can't think you of all people would have settled for knowing only half of a skill."

"I am. But I hate doing it!" Avery said, crossing her arms. "Wait – you're not suggesting…"

"If it helped you develop Occlumency quickly, then it can help me too."

"But – but it feels awful. It can be as bad as a Dementor!"

"All the more reason I should practice against you then," Michiru said. "I can't just build impressive looking shields in the hope that they'll be enough." She took out her wand. "I need to know how effective – or ineffective they are."

"Then… then couldn't you ask Dumbledore?" Avery pleaded. "Or Snape!"

"I'm asking you," Michiru said. "I trust you."

Avery's shoulders sagged. She shook head, swearing under her breath.

"It would be good practice for you too, I should think," Michiru observed, "In case the new Dark Mark detector over the shop door fails like the last."

"Fine," Morgana snapped. She lifted her wand as well. "I never thought I'd be on this side of it."

"You're in a lot of places you never foresaw for yourself."

Morgana shook her head, closing her eyes. "You've got me there." The pureblood witch straightened her stance. "Right. Anything you don't want me to see, imagine locking it up behind something. Doesn't matter what."

Michiru did, defaulting immediately to the Aqua Mirror, its image an easy one for her to conjure. After a few minutes she nodded and opened her eyes. "Ready," she said. "Don't go easy on me."

Morgana smirked, eyes still closed. "Wasn't." Then she whipped her wand out, levelling it on Michiru, and trained her with a piercing, grey-eyed glare. "Legilimens!"

~SMH~

It was 19:15 on November 21st when Andromeda Tonks, fresh from her shift at Mungos, slipped out of Garrick Ollivander's room in the attic of Grimmauld place and looked at its six residents all leaning against the wall outside. She shook her head. "As impatient as Dora, the lot of you." She nodded to Remus. "He's doing much better today. I'm… willing to permit a brief discussion. Not," she glared at Sirius, "an interrogation."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "This is kind of time-sensitive, Andy. The man understands that."

"And not everyone can be right as rain just weeks after being liberated from prison," Andromeda snapped back. "A brief discussion," she repeated in a firmer tone.

Hamish Stebbins raised his one hand, taking a large step away from the wall. "Can I do it?" he asked, looking to Sirius and Remus, Haruka and Michiru, and last at Rigel. "I've been dying for something to do."

All of them nodded, and he turned to Andromeda, shifting uncomfortably. The healer had a habit of studying the stump that had once been his right arm whenever she visited, and she was doing so now.

"You're the Hufflepuff one?" Andromeda checked. Stebbins nodded. That seemed all that was needed to convince the grey-haired witch, for she flicked her wand and stepped aside as the door of Ollivander's room creaked wide-open once more. "Nice questions to start," she said. "You have twenty minutes. That's how long it'll take me to fix up his medicine. After that you're to leave him alone about all this Dark Lord business for a while." And she bustled away, waving and calling over her shoulder. "Sirius – come help."

"Bossy as ever," Sirius muttered, a fond smile on his face as he shrugged and followed her towards the stairs.

Stebbins looked one more time at the rest of Grimmauld's residents, who gave him encouraging smiles. Then he turned and strode into Ollivander's recovery room, where all the lights, save the bright reading lamp, were turned down low for the night.

Once, Hamish Stebbins could have been as quiet as a cat despite his large frame, but without his right arm he was still regaining that skill. More often than not he felt unbalanced now, reflected in the way his feet thudded loudly with every step. He drew Ollivander's eye away from his book as soon as he'd crossed the threshold of the man's room.

"Mr. Stebbins," Ollivander said as he closed his book and placed it on the bedspread, as eerily familiar with Hamish as he'd been when Hamish had first gone to his shop at the age of eleven. "If I recall… cypress and unicorn hair… 12 and ¼ inches, quite stubborn."

Hamish smiled and took the chair beside the bed that Andromeda had vacated. As he did, he reached into his robes and drew his wand, getting a grip on it more quickly in his left hand than he would have even a month ago. He took a moment to examine the smooth cypress wood in the candlelight. He hadn't polished it in far too long. "Yeah – you said that meant I'd grow quite tall – and you were right." He laughed a little and set the wand down on the bed, noting the Ollivander studied it and his stump like Andromeda had. "I think I asked then what it meant that it was stubborn and you said that was more me than it," he laughed again, in a weaker tone. "Been wishing recently I'd been picked by a flexible one instead."

"How has it been in the left hand?" Ollivander said, adjusting his glasses. "Un-usable or simply difficult."

"Depends how I'm feeling," Stebbins told him. "Haven't tried in a while. Took up something else – sword fighting. Getting good at that." He shook his head. "I'm glad you're doing better."

"Much better," Ollivander said. "I've known since her wand chose her that one could depend on Andromeda Tonks, she continues to prove the old wisdom right." He settled back against his pillows. "I don't know that anything I've overheard will be particularly helpful, but I'll tell you everything I can."

Stebbins drummed his fingers on his knee. Best to just get the first one out of the way. "Do you know why Voldemort kidnapped you?"

"My profession," Ollivander said. "You see: he is seeking a wand." Stebbins leaned in to listen as Ollivander gazed into the slowly flickering light from his bedside lamp. "He is concerned first of all by the quandary presented by the twin cores of he and young Mr. Potter's wands, and I was tasked with designing a suitable replacement for him. At first he simply had me sort through those wands they took from others they had kidnapped, but he grew frustrated the more of them I said were unsuitable for his needs… I offered to make him a custom wand, but he believed, rightly that I would attempt to sabotage it. So of late," Ollivander sighed, "he had moved on to asking me simply to advice him on the lore of wand craft – an exhaustive study even if a lifetime is committed to it." He looked at Stebbins. "He has been quite concerned over the power in a wand, particularly as he has now been foiled by Mr. Potter and Miss. Tomoe."

"He's mentioned Hotaru?" Stebbins asked.

"And several of her other extra ordinary friends," Ollivander nodded. "You-know-who does not want his victory upset by them, and he finds Miss. Tomoe's survival of the killing curse particularly unsettling. He did not tell me as much… but I assume he fears he is also less powerful now than he was before Harry Potter defeated him."

"So he is looking for a new wand?" Stebbins asked. "And… and how else did you advice him?"

Ollivander hung his head.

"I didn't want to say anything," Ollivander confessed in a shaking voice. "But… he has ways."

Stebbins waited.

"He… gathered from my vast recollections a legend that we wandmakers take quite seriously, and many of his Death Eaters told him it was farce… I did too. I tried. But last month he seemed particularly in-incentiv-vised. He asked me to… um. Tell him the story as I had been t-told it. And then… to speak to it's… veracity."

"Story?" Stebbins murmured. Though he did not press the old wandmaker, who was now shivering beneath his covers.

Ollivander continued on after a minute. "He seeks the Elder wand," he whispered. "You know it, from the story?"

"The fairy-tale?"

"Fairy-tales always start with a core of truth," Ollivander said, smiling wanly. "There's… no confirmation of course. The last wandmaker to boast of having the Elder wand was Gregorvich." Ollivander hung his head. "Whom You-know-who now seeks… because of me."

Stebbins swallowed a lump in his throat. But he could hear Andromeda Tonks' quick steps ascending the stairs. They needed to know. "He's leaving the country then?"

"He is planning to," Ollivander said. "He wants to find Gregorvich quickly. I am grateful I do not know his exact address." He looked at Stebbins. "The journey will take him perhaps a week. Perhaps a bit more. He brought… one of his trusted down to see me the day before I was rescued. She will be accompanying him."

The way Ollivander shivered, Stebbins felt no need to ask who the woman had been.

Andromeda Tonks footsteps were coming down the hall.

"Thank you," Stebbins said, reaching out and squeezing Ollivander's left hand. "This is going to help us a lot." He stood. "Do you need anything else?"

"Not especially," Ollivander said as Andromeda came through the door.

"Hello, Dear," she smiled as she approached the bed, carrying a tray. "Mr. Stebbins has been nice, I hope." She directed a sharp look at him and he stepped away from the bed. Andromeda passed the tray she was holding down to Ollivander. "You didn't eat much earlier; I thought you might try again. The tea's your medicine. Drink all of it this time. I know: it tastes foul, but I promise you'll be singing its praises soon."

As she settled the tea in Ollivander's hands Stebbins tried extra hard to be light on his feet as he walked towards the door.

"A moment," Ollivander called softly.

Stebbins turned round again.

"Some wands do better in a right hand than a left," Ollivander said. "Your first was one. I would be happy to craft you another. However, if you've grown found of the sword…" His eyes scrutinized Stebbins. "My great-uncle had a fondness for them, no where near the knowledge of the goblins mind you, but I recall two things from his notes…

"When you craft a sword capable of magic," Ollivander said. "It requires the infusion of a core material, something more conducive to magic than the metal ores." He cleared his throat and recited as if from a verse: "Opal's essence and their like are preferred by those of darker means. Those of the light find friends in the crystals of Spodumene." He coughed as he got out the last word and Andromeda began to fuss over him.
"Sage words from someone who'd do well to save his voice for when he's stronger," she admonished, shooing Stebbins from the room.

He eased the door shut as he left, turning first to Haruka and Michiru, "Voldemort's planning a trip abroad," he said. "From the way Ollivander talks he plans to make it soon."

Then he looked towards Rigel and couldn't hold back his grin. "And… he knows how you make a magic sword… I don't know if he could do it, but maybe… if we could find a normal sword-smith, we could do the magic bit."

"Where ever you find one of those these days," Haruka muttered.

"Oh!" Sirius caught their attention as he jumped up, waving his hand. "Funny enough I know a guy – not dark at all, I'm fairly sure he's a squib, he had that vibe about him. So he wouldn't bat an eye at the magic bit."

"He means the man he met at a Renaissance fair when we were 19," Remus rolled his eyes. "There's plenty of people out there who know swords even if the magical craft is not widely known." He looked at Stebbins. "Why's Voldemort going on a trip abroad?"

Stebbins hesitated, and the five of his teammates gathered in the hall immediately grew somber. Sirius merry grin faded. "He's looked for the wandmaker, Gregorvich," Stebbins said. "He's… seeking the Elder wand."

Rigel's eyes bugged out of his head. Remus, of all people swore.

"Hang on?" Haruka said, holding up her hand. "What's the Elder wand?"

~SMH~

At 20:15 on Monday, November 25th, Harry Potter left his homework half-done on one of the study tables in Gryffindor tower, and made his way to his second lesson with Dumbledore. He threw his invisibility cloak on as he walked out the portrait hole.

Not that there was any need for it. He'd return to Gryffindor well before the sixth year curfew and Dumbledore had invited him. But it felt somehow secret all the same. Harry was sure Malfoy would care if he were getting lessons about Voldemort from the Headmaster, and if not Malfoy than he was sure there were others.

Upon reaching the second floor, he heard the whisper of footsteps on the tiles behind him and turned round. But it was only Hotaru making her way down to their lesson just like him. He waved, the cloak still on. But she didn't notice.

Well that scrapped one of Hermione's errant theories at least. Harry threw off the hood of the cloak.

Hotaru jumped, conjuring her glaive out of the air and levelling it at his nose before noticing who he was.

"Harry?" She sighed and vanished the weapon, directing a smile at him. "Sorry."

"Good instincts though," he complimented her, unclipping the cloak. "I just didn't want anyone to follow."

"That's a good plan," Hotaru said, ducking under the cloak with him. She shivered as the material touched her shoulders. "What do they make these out of?"

"Dunno," Harry shrugged. "Always thought you'd be able to see through it."

"Not at all," Hotaru frowned. "I didn't even sense your energy in the hall," she said, as he slowed his long strides to match her steps. "I hope there's not a lot of these."

"I think they're pretty rare," Harry assured her as they moved closer to the wing that held Dumbledore's office. "This is the only one I've ever seen anyways."

It was five more minutes walk until they reached the statue of the Gargoyle, and "Mars Bars" got them onto the moving staircase beyond it.

"Right on time," Dumbledore beamed at them as he directed them to the two armchairs opposite his desk. "Lemon Drop?" he asked, and they shook their heads. He helped himself though, plucking three of the candies out of the bowl on his desk. He held the first aloft and they stared as Fawkes swooped in and gobbled it up in his beak. He settled back on his perch and belched out a small burst of yellow flames before closing his eyes and relaxing on the perch.

Hotaru tucked her legs beneath her and gazed fondly at the bird. "His burning day's tomorrow isn't it?"

"Is it?" Dumbledore asked as he reached behind him into the cabinet of Pensieve memories and selected one. "That's good to know, he's been very ill of late, quite irritable – ahah!" he took a vial with a bright thread within it out of the cabinet. "This is what we shall be looking at today. One of my own, as it happens." He flicked his eyes to Hotaru as he uncorked the vial and cocked his head to the side. "You are still wearing the Resurrection Stone, Miss. Tomoe?"

Harry looked. The ring Dumbledore had given her at their first lesson was still on her finger, gleaming as if it had recently been polished. "Have you used it?" he asked.

"No," Hotaru said, gazing at the dark stone. "I've cleaned it. It's very pretty. And it's quite calming when I take tests in class…" she brushed her thumb over the top. "But no, I haven't used it. I thought maybe I'd want to, to see Papa… but I don't need to." She looked round. "A part of him's always here, I think. It'd be quite selfish to demand the rest of him linger here as well." Then she smiled. "I think it does give me dreams of him sometimes though. And of Mama, my first one I mean. Those are very nice."

"Fascinating," Dumbledore murmured. "And… no," he shook his head. "My curiosity can wait," he beckoned to the Pensieve as he poured the memory in. "We've important things to discuss before the night's through."

They nodded and Hotaru grabbed hold of Harry's hand. Together, they leaned into the Pensieve, and into Dumbledore's first encounter with 11-year-old Tom Riddle.

~SMH~

Setsuna could not recall another time in her existence where she had given into the entirely too human urge to whine about the pace of the universe. But in the six days between learning Voldemort would be taking a trip abroad and the Thursday evening where Professor Slughorn would supposedly divulge crucial information to her, Setsuna found herself irritated for the first time by the seconds that ticked past ceaselessly in the back of her head, and debating how much of her energy it would waste to urge them to tick past just a little bit faster. When at last the morning of the 28th of November came, it left her with a new appreciation for how the mere passage of time could grate on a mortal.

As well an appreciation for the baffling ingenuity of wix…

"Today just felt like a decent day for it is all," Slughorn said as he sat two seats down from Setsuna at the Breakfast table.

Siting between she and Slughorn, Severus glanced over at him and rolled his eyes. "The lengths some will go," he muttered.

"Oh come now Severus," Slughorn tutted, which caught Setsuna's attention. She and Rolonda Hooch – who sat on Setsuna's left – leaned around Severus in interest.

The Defense professor was shaking his head and ignoring Slughorn, who was delicately easing the top off of a small potion vial, within which a golden potion gleamed even in the dull light given off by the dark clouds rolling across the ceiling.

Slughorn tipped the contents of the vial into his pumpkin juice. "Severus and I disagree on this particular brew," Slughorn said. "He thinks it leads to foolishness, but I've been lucky with this twice, and I've a good feeling about today. I truly do."

"What is it?" Setsuna murmured to Rolonda Hooch.

"Beats me," she shrugged. "Looks a bit like piss in my opinion."

"It's Felix Felicius!" Slughorn chortled, taking a hearty swig of his drink.

"Liquid Luck," Severus said plainly. "Which he still thinks it wise to dole out as a 'prize'"

"That I do!" Slughorn cheered. "I gave it to you once, in fact, what ever'd you do with it?"

Severus remained silent, for enough time to catch Minerva's attention. She looked over Hooch's head at him with one eyebrow raised. She recognized the particular brand of distain on Severus face. He'd only ever reserved it for two people after all.

"Unless you gave it to someone else," Slughorn was considering in lieu of Severus reply. "I have had many students go that route pursuing fits of romantic whimsy."

"I always thought Lily won the potion's contest that year," Minerva said, sipping her tea.

"I gifted the Felix Felicius to her after class," Severus said through gritted teeth. "A peace offering, if you will."

"Ha," Mcgonagall smiled. "Well it went to good use in any case – she saved it, I believe, until the first day of seventh year. She told me she was nervous about being the Head Girl and about who the Head Boy would be."

"Is that how she got hold of it!" Slughorn realized merrily. "Oh splendid! She told me about it too you see – I was ever so glad. I like to see how the luck pans out for different people. Why she told me she took it just as she got on the train that morning – and six hours later she's sitting down with James Potter, arm in arm. Why the both of them could not stop staring at each other."

"Excuse me," Severus said, standing so quickly he knocked his chair over. He left it on the ground. "It appears one of my students is on fire."

They all looked down at the Slytherin table where smoke was rising from about halfway down the rows. Though no student appeared to be in flames.

"Ah – he's such a good Head of House, isn't he?" Slughorn grinned, waving his wand to right Severus chair. He moved to take it, and his elbow bumped Setsuna's. "Anyways yes," he downed another large gulp of his spiked pumpkin juice. "I just felt it had been quite a few years since I've had a particularly lucky day. And I decided, why not now, eh?"

Setsuna was about to tell him there was no such thing as luck the way he was understanding it, when the morning post came in, and an owl flew up to Slughorn.

"Ohhh!" He took the note from the owl eagerly, only a bit of folded parchment, blank from what Setsuna could see. "Oh this is clever of them – using a dark owl – not dark magic mind, just a couple delightful charms on the beasty that help it 'fly under the tracking charms' so to speak." He held a whole plate of bacon up to the messenger owl as he reviewed the note once more and burnt it. Setsuna felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up. This was it surely, the crucial puzzle piece he was meant to give her today.

"It appears I'll be in Hogsmeade for lunch," he said. "Lucky thing all my prep work for the day is done." He turned to Setsuna as the owl flew off. "You see – it is not just me who benefits from a lucky day. That was one of my contacts in the Ministry – you've been asking me for weeks if I had anything else on the unplottable properties, and they've just come through for me." He dug into his omelette. "Ah – they outdid themselves this morning that's a perfect flavour. Oh! You know," he said. "The Slug Club is meeting tonight. Why don't you join us, Setsuna, if you're not busy that is? Why the students have been absolutely dismayed every week you can't make it."

"I'd go," Rolonda Hooch muttered. "Everyone loves when I'm at parties."

"Well the office can only fit ten or eleven sad to say," Slughorn said with a truly regretful tone. He perked up quickly though. "Oh – but you are more than welcome at the Christmas Party. I'll have Gwenog Jones there. She's,"

"Captain of the Harpies, yes Rolonda tells us all the time," Setsuna said, itching to leave her seat and start the day, as if that would get it to hurry up. "Yes, I'll be at the Club dinner. You'll have your contact's information by then?"

"I will! And I have lucky feeling about it." He nodded. "They'd never take so many precautions unless they had something especially marvellous to pass along to me. I knew it was a good day for this." He took the empty vial off the table and kissed it.

At some point, she really would need to look up exactly how one bottled luck of all insane and ridiculous inventions of the human imagination. Furthermore she needed to investigate whether Lestrange didn't have a stockpile of the stuff because that would explain more than it didn't about the past few months.

But for the duration of November 28th, all Setsuna could focus on were the seconds that seemed to tick by slower and slower with each passing hour despite knowing it was entirely illogical of them.

Slughorn was not at lunch, nor did she see him on their shared free period that afternoon. At that time, she found when she looked through the time sands, he was busy talking to one of his NEWT students (which was a pity, as it meant she really did have to go to the dinner if she had any hope of getting the information from him today).

That was one habit of the Potion master's she found irritating: he seemed to have no sense of urgency about the information he collected for her, and he always insisted it be passed along over dinner, citing that information was always relayed better when one took the proper time to discuss it. There'd been two such dinners with him so far, which had been entertaining enough in their own right. It had given her several opportunities to ply his potions knowledge though she'd yet to entrust to him the reason for her interest. Perhaps she ought to, Setsuna thought. After all he had decades of potions expertise compared to Severus, maybe telling him the nature of Lestrange's deception against her would not be so ill advised.

The dinner itself dragged on: Even the presence of six of her Divination students and four of her muggle studies students could not hold her attention. None of her scouts were in attendance tonight.

Which was a pity, as the conversation that ensued could not hold her attention. For sure it was a genial affair: Horace Slughorn seemed a master of directing inane small talk into interesting conversations, or at least framing small talk as if it should be interesting. It seemed the conversations about Quidditch, wizarding research, and the gossip of Wizarding society agreed with all the students in attendance, though it left Setsuna with the urge to drum her fingers on the table. She resisted – barely.

Finally, once three courses had been consumed and Lavender Brown, Pavarti Patil and Slughorn had carried on a conversation about Witch Weekly for thirty-two-and-a-half minutes, Slughorn checked the clock and exclaimed that as it was Thursday night, the ten students surely had homework to do, which prompted Zacharius Smith to look at Setsuna and pale, surely realizing he had not yet started the essay she'd set the Muggle Studies class. He scrambled out first, and the others thanked Slughorn for dinner and followed him in ones and twos from the room.

The last were Lavender and Pavarti who ducked out of the office and – between giggles – wished them both a wonderful evening.

"Precocious aren't they," Slughorn chuckled, waving his wand. The dinner dishes vanished from the table. He waved it again and the glass cabinet at the back of his office opened: a dark red bottle of wine and two crystal glasses settling on the table as new, clean dishes appeared in front of them – alongside a platter of desserts.

"That Truddy – still the head elf now. I could hardly believe it. And she's as good as her word as she ever is." He poured her a glass of wine and held it out to her. "Muggle brand, I wonder if you've heard if it. I know quite a few wizards who swear by the magical vineyards down in the Pyrenees, but I've always thought muggles do it better. Now," he said as she took the glass. "I know you have been waiting all day to find out what information my contact at the ministry passed along to me. I'm hoping you'll wait just a little longer," he smiled, waving a hand to the desserts that ringed the circular silver platter. "War is such a tiresome thing. It bleaches the vivacity and beauty out of the little moments. And I admire the way you seem to throw yourself towards it – I would not have the energy to think of such dark things every waking moment. I scarcely get the chance to speak with you about anything else. So I'm hoping we might put off the war to enjoy the moment a while longer."

Setsuna frowned. "I appreciate the whimsy Professor Slughorn,"

"Horace," he reminded her, sipping his wine.

"But unfortunately war is a time sensitive matter and this particular one is on an ever tightening schedule." She took the wine and took a sip of it. It was not her favorite, but it did hit the spot after such a long week. "The unplottables," she prompted Slughorn.

Slughorn sighed and glumly stared at his wine glass, giving it a swirl. "Tis the unfortunate thing about luck," he murmured. "You end up believing a little too much of it." and before she had puzzled out what he meant, she was distracted, for he set his glass down and withdrew a paper from his pocket. Setsuna snatched it when he held it out and unfolded it.

Dafydd Dawlish

"He worked as an Unplotter between 1948 to 1959 – hired straight out of Hogwarts as well, bright lad. He was one of my first club members actually. Terrible shame how he ended up as well. I always wondered about it until this afternoon."

"The Ministry, you see, doesn't like to admit when its erred, especially with things like dark wizards, and so when my associate uncovered this story, they felt there was enough peculiar about it that it might pique my interest.

"Dafydd," Slughorn said, "Was arrested for smuggling classified spells out of the ministry, but before he could go to trial, he went mad, and shortly after being moved to Saint Mungos, he died. Cause was always listed as a seizure but… now I know the truth.

"What he smuggled out," Slughorn said, "were materials for an unplotting, and a big one at that. My associate said the original record's stored deep in the archives and when they looked at it they noted he'd brought materials to disguise water features – which are more difficult as water's always moving about."

"This was in 1959?" Setsuna checked.

"Yes," Slughorn said, leaning in, his voice dropped to a whisper. "He was caught of course, when he came into work the next day. Before they took his wand, he attempted to obliviate himself, went mad… as well… this was unremarkable at the time, but a dead giveaway now." He took an yellowed, old photo from his pocket and put it on the table between them. "My associate knew immediately why they didn't want this to leak."

Setsuna's eyes widened as she stared at the picture: there preserved in the sepia-tinted ink was a man's forearm, with a snake and skull crudely carved into the skin. It was different from other Dark Marks she had seen, but unmistakable all the same."

"He went to Mungos of course," Slughorn said. "Hard to put a mad man in Azkaban in good conscience. And the ministry very much wanted to know why he had done this. They never knew. He was dead a week later."

"Uh-huh." Setsuna took the photo and the parchment with the name and stood. "Thank you," she said to Slughorn, standing from the table.

"Oh surely you're not leaving!" he protested.

"I'm sorry," she said. "It's very rude, I know. But you and I feel the same about war: it poisons everything caught up in it. And thus, when presented with information that could bring it closer to its closure, I think you'll understand why I can't wait." Then, feeling obliged to make it up to him she smiled. "But perhaps we could meet for a more casual dinner soon."

Slughorn smiled. "I'd be delighted," he said, standing and moving to his office door. He held it open for her. "I do hope you'll tell me how this pans out."

"I will," she promised and the ever-cheerful potions professor held out his hand to her. She shook it, feeling as though he held on a bit too long, and she considered for a moment whether or not Hotaru was right that he liked her in some more-than-colleagues sort of way. I'll worry about it later, she decided as she summoned her doors and stepped through.

For now, there were things that needed finding out.

~SMH~

"AND THERE'S THE WHISTLE – AWW NO! YOU'D THINK CHAMBERS WOULD HAVE THE HEIGHT ADVANTAGE – FIRST 10 TO SLYTHERIN!"

Sir. Jadeite wondered how Colin had managed to announce the last in such an undyingly cheerful tone, and supposed that perhaps it was Mcgonagall sitting next to him in the teachers box that were helping keep his preferences in check.

They scanned the pitch from their post up in one of the empty tower boxes, the gleaming white and vivid red-gold of their uniform had drawn quite a few eyes from the Quidditch players when they'd done their lap of the pitch. They supposed that was why Venus had given them this particular post: standing atop a tower decked out in Gryffindor red and gold, their matching colors did not stand out so much to the crowds below.

The same logic did not help Sailors Uranus and Neptune blend into the background. They were perched on the towers opposite Jadeite's, and many a set of Omnioculars gleamed in the bright sunlight as they were trained away from the Ravenclaw-Slytherin Quidditch game and up at the two Senshi.

Thank god no one's thinks I'm interesting by comparison, Jadeite thought, still unsure exactly how fool proof the glamour their transformation provided was. How did the whole student body not recognize Ginny Weasley? For goodness sakes – their hair was still in the same braid!

"OH BUT PROPS TO CORNER – RAVENCLAW'S RECOVERED THE BALL! AND HE PASSES TO KEELAN – SECOND YEAR, DON'T USUALLY SEE CHASERS THAT SMALL. KEELAN TO BELBY – TO CORNER. I THINK ALL THIS PASSING'S DRIVING SLYTHERIN MAD."

In the back of the Hufflepuff stands, Sailor Jupiter, disguised under her black and yellow cloak, smirked up at the tight formation of Ravenclaw chasers circling their way down the pitch. She could see the Slytherin Chasers scowling from here. She watched Ida Keelan circle behind the hoops, feign right, and lob a quick pass to Michael Corner who thwacked the Quaffle through the left-most hoop.

"10 POINTS TO RAVENCLAW!"

"Yes!" the smaller person sitting atop the wall of the pitch beside her exclaimed. Jupiter looked over at her. Like her, Akira Hino wore a black and yellow cloak with the hood pulled over her forehead. Jupiter wondered if there wasn't a tiara and a Sailor uniform hidden underneath and wondered what Akira's looked like when it wasn't covered in molten rock.

She followed Akira's gaze: She was staring across the pitch at the lively Slytherin stands. Makoto put her gloved hand on Akira's shoulder.

"If they try anything today we're gonna stop it fast," Jupiter promised her. "And Mars and Venus and I are gonna stick to you like glue."

"I'm okay!" Akira insisted, as she had every day since Madam Pince had released her from the Hospital Wing. "I don't even remember it."

"AND THAT'S A SOLID BEAT FROM QUIRK!" Colin Creevey cheered. "RAVENCLAW'S BACK IN POSE – OH THAT'S GOTTA HURT – CRABBE'S GOT TO HAVE DISLOCATED KEELAN'S SHOULDER WITH THAT ONE – SLYTHERIN'S GOT THE QUAFFLE!"

"That's got to be a penalty!" Ron Weasley exclaimed. "That practically hit her in the back!"

"Practically's the key word," Katie Bell said to him. "Damnit they've got both Bludgers now too."

"They've still got to get it past Chambers" Dean assured them. "Even you have trouble scoring on him he's built like a fridge."

"What's a Fridge?" Seamus asked looking at Dean and then at Ron. "Where's Ginny?"

"Err," Ron's eyes flicked to the tower overhead. "She's… sitting with Harry," he fibbed. He hadn't a clue where Harry was, though if he had to guess he'd bet he was stalking Malfoy over in the Slytherin stands.

"Are they hooking up now?" Dean exclaimed and then flushed. "Err – Oh crap, she's your sister ain't she. Sorry."

"I thought you said you broke up with her?" Seamus said, frowning at him.

"I – I did! I am! I… it's complicated," Dean sighed. "Don't ask me how cause it's too complicated to explain."

Seamus rolled his eyes. "Whatever mate, not like I care." He flicked his eyes to the back of the stands. "Those four look a bit tenser than usual."

Ron looked behind him. Mina, Rei, Sora, and Usagi were perched on the wall of the pitch, wearing the hoods of their cloaks over their foreheads. "Um."

"Well of course they're a bit on edge," Hermione said, coming to his rescue, bless her. "After the first game who isn't – and Hotaru's playing in this one."

"THAT CIRCLE FORMATION'S BACK… SLOW RUN UP THE PITCH – OH HOLY SH-SORRY PROFESSOR! SLYTHERIN SENDS A DOUBLE BEAT DOWN ON RAVENCLAW… AND QUIRKS GOT IT! QUIRK AND THE OTHER ONE…THE BEATER WITH THE POINTY EARS. IS THAT OFFENSIVE? SORRY! ACKERLEY! HIS NAME'S ACKERLEY – OH THAT'S ANOTHER 10! 20-10 TO RAVENCLAW!"

The crowded blue stands in front of them erupted in cheering as scarves and hats were waved in the air. Mercury smiled.

"I think we've a decent chance of winning the cup this year," Luna said. The fifth year was sitting on her left, wearing her hooded cloak over her forehead just like Mercury's so that she and Megumi Meioh would look "less conspicuous sitting above everyone."

Megumi squeaked.

"TOMOE'S ENTERED A DIVE EVERYBODY – OH NASTY LUCK CRABBE'S JUST KNOCKED HER INTO A TAILSPIN – DON'T LOOK LIKE THE SLYTHERIN SEEKER'S GONNA HAVE ANY LUCK THOUGH. IF THAT SNITCH WAS THERE BEFORE IT'S LONG GONE NOW!"

"She's fine." Mercury told Megumi, tracking Hotaru as she circled back towards the Ravenclaw hoops. "Look even her broom's intact."

"I know," Megumi said, ducking her head lower. "Doesn't make watching it any easier."

Mercury smiled, "I'm sure you're not the only one who thinks that." She looked upwards: Sure enough in the teachers box and in two of the empty boxes high overhead, Setsuna, Uranus, and Neptune were leaning over the walls, watching Hotaru and glaring at Vincent Crabbe.

"ANOTHER SLYTHERIN ATTEMPT – OH MY GOD BLUDGER! BUT QUIRK INTERCEPTS – OOH! RIGHT IN THE STOMACH. THAT TAKES GUTS... ER, PUN NOT INTENDED. AND THAT'S A SAVE! STILL 20-10! FOR RAVENCLAW"

"Should have hit her harder," Theodore Nott criticized from his place two rows behind Chibiusa, who clenched her hands around the wood wall of the stands and resisted punching him in the face.

"What – No!" Hestia Carrow turned away from the wall beside Chibiusa and gaped at Theo. "That looked plenty hard enough! He's not trying to hurt her, is he?"

"Orla Quirk?" Theo rolled his eyes. "Of course he's not trying to hurt her, that'd be a penalty. But she's hardly pedigree, is she."

"But… but it's just a game," Hestia said.

"A wizards game," Pansy Parkinson sneered. "Mudblood's like her've got no business playing it."

"But," Hestia protested.

"Shut up, Hes!" her twin sister hissed, elbowing Hestia hard enough to knock her into Chibiusa. "They're gonna call you a blood traitor – you want that?"

"I'm not!" Hestia snapped. "I just…"

"OH THAT'S ANOTHER HARD HIT FOR ORLA QUIRK FROM A GOYLE-CRABBE TAG-TEAM. AND THIS ONE'S EARNED A WHISTLE. GOOD THINK TOO. HOOCH DOESN'T LOOK PLEASED."

"That's more like it," Theodore Nott whooped behind them and many of the upper years around them cheered.

Hestia Carrow bit her lip. "She helps me with Transfiguration."

Chibiusa reached out and put her hand on Hestia's arm.

"It's okay," Chibiusa said. "I think you're right."

"Does that make me a blood-traitor though?" Hestia said, clenching her fists. "I didn't even… I'd never met a mudblood before."

"PENALTY SHOT – 30-10 RAVENCLAW!

"You'd better not be a blood-traitor," Flora whispered. "Dad will kill you – or he'll send you to live with Auntie Alecto."

Hestia shivered. "Don't want that."

"DAMN SLYTHERIN'S GOT – I MEAN SLYTHERIN'S CATCHING UP! 30-20!"

Hotaru Tomoe circled over the game. Slytherin was more aggressive than Corner'ed anticipated. And she was sure if Orla Quirk were still beating at 100 percent they wouldn't be making nearly so many runs down the pitch. As it was, Orla was drifting back and forth across the mid-field line with one hand pressed over her ribs.

"SLYTHERIN'S TIED IT UP!" Colin gasped and Hotaru whipped around. Vikrum Thakur had both fists pumped in the air and their keeper was looking towards the center hoop as though it had personally betrayed him. "30-30!"

Hotaru scanned her eyes over the pitch. No threats still. All the scouts and Jadeite were calm watchers on the walls. And there was no glint of gold since her first sighting.

She wove above the pitch as Slytherin gained ground, and left more Ravenclaw players injured with each pass. She thought it helped them that Michael Corner had signalled them to switch to the defensive. Even with one beater injured, a blockade of six players was tough for the Slytherin team to get through.

"YOU'D THINK THEY'D WANT TO ADVANCE THE POINT TOTAL BUT IT DOESN'T LOOK LIKE CORNER WANTS TO CHANCE IT!"

Hotaru looked down. Slytherin had the ball again and was spiralling down for another approach. And Orla Quirk was hovering around a glaring Michael Corner, arguing fiercely with the captain. Michael waved his hand.

"TIME OUT!" Colin announced just before Hooch blew the whistle.

Hotaru flew down amid boos from the Slytherin section of the stands. She hovered above as the other players gathered together in a circle and came into earshot in time to here the third year beater arguing with Corner.

"We'll never be in the running for the cup if you don't let us advance down field!" Orla exploded at him. "Let Crabbe hit me – I don't care."
"Quirk they're trying to kill you – and I'm not confident they'll stop there. Ackerley's not exactly sacred 28 himself is he. And they've been eying Keelan for ages.

"They'll be fair to me!" Ida Keelan said. "My mum's a Rowle!"

"And she married a muggleborn, Wizgamot's still out on your safety in Slytherin's book."

"So what are you gonna do!" Orla Quirk Exploded. "Replace us all with purebloods!" She grimaced and hunched over on her broom. But she kept glaring at Michael. "We've got to show em we're every bit the Quidditch player they are."

"What's it matter!" Michael said. "It's just a game!"

"To you," Orla seethed. "No one's ever questioned whether you're worthy enough to play – you've been going to games since you could talk!"

"Hooch is waving." Belby said. "We've got a minute."

"Keep advancing down field," Orla Quirk insisted. "Ackerley and I can't get a bludger back if you don't give Crabbe and Goyle a reason to swing!"

"I'm not a Gryffindor!" Michael snapped. "I'm not putting half my team in the Hospital over a Quaffle. Let's run this one out, and make up the points against Gryffindor and Hufflepuff."

"It's not your decision!" Orla snapped.

"I'm the Captain!"

"And I'm a mudblood!" Quirk snapped, and the whole team but Hotaru gasped. "And so's Tomoe. And Keelan may as well be." She straightened up, looking imposing despite the drawn look on her face. "I think if this is a about our safety we should get to decide how we play."

Michael Corner gulped. "Fine." He looked at Ida Keelan and then up at Hotaru. "Your call."

"We go on the offensive." Ida Keelan said. "I don't care how hurt I get, they can't think they can play like this and win."

"And I'm not going down before I knock Crabbe in the head," Orla Quirk decided.

"I want it unanimous." Michael said. "Tomoe – you'll about to have bludger target on your back if this comes down to the snitch. Your call."

"Keep playing." Hotaru said. "I don't cave to bullies." She looked over at Hooch. "She wants to re-start."

"Right." Michael clapped his hands. "Remember to keep your course circular – Goyle's aim is only as straight as your flying."

The team broke off again, and this time Hotaru planted herself squarely above center field, keeping both hands on her broom.

"GAME'S BACK IN ACTION AND SO IS RAVENCLAW – MY GOD THAT'S MORE AGGRESSIVE THAN BEFORE! THEY'VE STILL GOT THAT CIRCLE TECHNIQUE… OH BUT SLYTHERIN'S GOT WISE TO IT! THAT'S AN INTERCEPTION! AND A RECOVERY!"

Ida had flown up inside the Slytherin chaser's guard and had got both hands on the Quaffle, tugging as hard as she could.

"KEELAN'S PERHAPS NOT THE WISEST TO PICK THAT CHASER TO GET THE QUAFFLE FROM. I MEAN REALLY HANLEY'S HANDS ARE AS BIG AS HER FACE! BLOODY BLUDGER COMING IN FROM THE SIDE!"

Hotaru forced herself not to look, to keep an eye out for the snitch. She saw a streak of blue fly towards Keelan and Hanley.

"ACKERLEY'S INTERCEPTED! AND HIT HANLEY AS WELL! AND KEELAN'S GOT THE BLUDGER – TO BELBY – TO CORNER – GOAL! GOAL! YES! 40-30 RAVENCLAW!"

Hotaru looked down field. Slytherin had recovered the Quaffle quickly and one of their chasers had streaked off towards the Ravenclaw hoops ahead of her team, only Orla Quirk and the Keeper cold defend. And Goyle and Crabbe were approaching along with the Quaffle.

"THIS DOESN'T LOOK GOOD."

Hotaru bit her lip. Any bludger Orla batted away would just get thwacked back at Chambers by the other Slytherin beater. She crossed her fingers as Goyle cracked the bat and sent the bludger streaking down.

"QUIRK BATS IT DOWN!"

"Yes!" Hotaru cheered as the bludger sailed down into the mud… and right back up. She saw Chambers block the shot on the hoops and then the Slytherin chaser back their broom into Orla, clipping her shoulder with their boot.

"PENALTY…NOT A PENALTY! OH COME ON HOOCH YOU CAN'T TELL ME THAT WASN'T INTENTIONAL – FINE! SLYTHERIN RECOVERS THE QUAFFLE! CHAMBERS BLOCKS! PASSES TO CORNER – TO KEEL – OH OUCH!"

The youngest Slytherin chaser had rushed Ida Keelan, elbowing her injured shoulder and gone for the ball. Hotaru clenched her fists. Ida still had it but…

"LOOKS LIKE A BRAWL OUT THERE – BELBY'S GONE IN - TACKLES THE SLYTHERIN. THAT'S THE WAY TO DO IT! AND KEELANS OFF!"

Ida whipped her Clean Sweep around and tore off down field. Hotaru saw Michael's jaw drop.

"I DON'T THINK THIS IS IN THEIR PLAY BOOK! SHE'S AT MIDFIELD! AND GOYLE AND CRABBE ARE HARD ON HER HEELS!"

"Come on…" Hotaru muttered, crossing her fingers as Ida neared the Slytherin hoops… and the burly chaser and keeper in her way.

"I TH-THINK THEY COULD CRUSH HER…" Colin's voice wavered.

"Come on…"

Ida Keelan then shot up high above the hoops, with Vikrum Thakur on her tail. Hotaru watched her stand shakily on her broom, arms braced as if she were on a skateboard. She toed the front of the broom downwards.

"THAKUR'S GONNA KNOCK HER OF – HOLY SHIT!"

Thakur tumbled through the air with an armful of empty broom as Ida freefell, quaffle in hand, towards the Slytherin goals. Hotaru stared as the Slytherin keeper hovered right in the path of the center hoop with his arms crossed. He appeared to have no plans to catch her.

Hotaru shot down, reaching the hoops just as Ida surprised Evercreech by punting the quaffle through the left-side hoop and then reached, the tips of her fingers caught the hoop. But she slipped, her injured arm losing purchase. Hotaru dove in right below her, putting her hand under Ida's foot and giving her a boost up.

"NICE ASSIST TOMOE! 50-30 RAVENCLAW I DON'T BELIEVE THIS! LET'S GET HER BROOM BACK, THAKUR, YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED TWO."

"Thanks," Ida panted, grinning at Hotaru.

"What the hell!" The Slytherin Captain grabbed Ida by both shoulders and lifted her off of the hoop. "You're supposed to stay on your broom!"

"It's not – in the rules." Ida Keelan said, wincing.

"Of course it's in the rules!" Evercreech seethed. "It's a death wish."
"But it's not a rule!" Ida insisted. "Rule 9 says you're not allowed two brooms, and rules 65-123 dictate what constitutes a broom and all the legal and illegal modifications – but there is no rule that says I can't jump for the hoop. Not any of the 1,073." Ida insisted.

Evercreech looked purple and Hotaru looked around. Hooch was approaching, so she could safely look for the…"

"HARPER'S ENTERED A DIVE!"

Hotaru whipped around. Lawrence Harper's small green form was rushing towards the door of the Ravenclaw Locker room, where a small gold ball was hovering by the handle.

Hotaru streaked off, waving frantically for the beaters. Ackerley came in with a bludger that forced Harper off course, and gave Hotaru time to move in. The Snitch must have sensed her for it moved, darting out towards the black and brown center of the pitch. Hotaru leaned on the Nagaraboshi, urging it faster and faster. Sparks from the tail streaked behind her.

"IT'S GONNA COME DOWN TO A BEAT DOWN! BLUDGER FROM GOYLE – INTERCEPTED BY QUIRK – OI CRABBE YOU'RE MEANT TO HIT THE BALL WITH THAT!"

She was just fifty feet off now, she stretched her hand out. The snitch shot upwards. She jerked her broom up at a 90 degree angle and kicked off the ground with her toes to get higher faster.

Something whizzed past her ear. Hotaru kept flying.

"NEAR MISS FROM THAT BLUDGER! AND HERE COMES ANOTHER FROM GOYLE"

A bat cracked behind her.

"GOOD DEFENSE FROM QUIRK!" TOMOE'S IN REACH.

She could see Harper swooping in on her left as she zeroed in on her quarry. He wouldn't get it. She inched forwards on the broom, straining her fingers. The cool metal brushed her fingertips and she clenched her hand shut around the feather-light wings, Shooting up into the bright blue sky with the Golden Snitch in her palm.

"THAT'S A CATCH!" Colin exclaimed as the whole pitch roared. "RAVENCLAW WINS 200-30!"

Hotaru shrieked, waving the golden snitch in her hand. She flew down towards the jubilant Ravenclaw stands, extending her free hand and high-fiving the outstretched hands of the spectators. Luna was beaming. Mercury and Megumi gave her a thumbs up.

Out on the pitch, Keelan had gotten her broom back. And she and the rest of the team had gathered in center field, cheering as loudly as they could. Even Orla Quirk, who now had both hands wrapped around her stomach, was beaming from ear to ear.

They lapped the pitch three times before heading back to the locker room. And when Hotaru emerged in her blue Quidditch cloak with her muddy broom in hand, she beamed. At the front of the crowd gathered outside the locker room, were Mama's and…

"Papa!" She grinned, forgetting for a moment her reluctance to call Haruka Papa since the death of her father. She laughed as Haruka picked her up and put Hotaru on her shoulders.

"MAKE WAY!" Haruka shouted over the crowd of excited Ravenclaws. "SEEKING QUEEN COMING THROUGH!"

"They're not just excited about me!" Hotaru laughed, looking back. Michael had conjured a sling to put around Ida's arm and the Keeper had lifted Orla Quirk onto his shoulders so she would not have to walk all the way across the grounds. A whole mob of Ravenclaws had crowded around them to escort them back to the castle.

"Well you did brilliantly," Mama Michiru congratulated Hotaru. "Even if you did scare me half-to-death."

"And I promise you'll be back in the common room with plenty of time to celebrate." Setsuna said.

Hotaru's eyes widened and she looked ahead of them. The scouts had all de-transformed, and all of them lingered in the grounds ahead with Ginny, Luna, and the other Gryffindors along with them. She even saw Harry appear in between Ron and Hermione as he slipped off his invisibility cloak.

"We have a meeting?" Hotaru asked.

"We do," Haruka said. "I don't know what it's about yet…" She looked over at Setsuna, who had a spring in her step today.

"I thought it best to tell you all together." She said. "Good news deserves proper celebrations too."

She led all of them back to her chambers, where another constellation-covered couch had appeared in the sitting room to accomadate four people Hotaru was surprised to see: Sirius, Remus, Hamish, and Rigel already siting on one of the couches.

"Hotaru!" Sirius waved as they came in. "Excellent catch! Harry'll have to put some effort in if he wants to seek against you."

"Oi," Harry muttered. "I'll still win."

Haruka let Hotaru down from her shoulders and all of them settled around the room. Though, Hotaru noticed, only Luna, Akira, and Chibiusa elected to sit.

"And one more," Setsuna announced as the door to her rooms swung open again.

Dumbledore slipped in, smiling at all of them, a twinkle in his eyes. "An excellent game," he congratulated Hotaru.

"We thought, given all of your efforts to liberate the prison last month, Dumbledore said with a nod especially towards Harry and his friends. "That you should be kept appraised of this new development."

"We have learned," Setsuna said "That Voldemort will be leaving the country on a mission some time soon."

"When?" Harry demanded.

"The tenth of December is a good bet," Dumbledore said. "It's the New Moon: always been thought to be a particularly auspicious day for dark magic, and Tom Riddle is one I think even you'll know by now, Harry, values traditions." Dumbledore nodded. "On that night, I will be leaving the country as well, accompanied by one I trust."

Setsuna continued. "Albus and I would like to beat Voldemort at his own game. There are steps we can take to bar him from his objective. Lestrange, I'm confident, will be with him."

"Freeing us up to for a mission," Haruka determined.

"Indeed," Setsuna said, looking at Haruka and Michiru, and the other members of their Sailor-Wizarding Operations Squad.

Slughorn's information had led her to the healer who had treated Dafydd Dawlish for the week before he'd been found dead in his hospital room. She'd enlisted Dumbledore to see what could be gleaned from the woman's memories.

Not much of worth, Save Dafydd's muttering about the bone white cliffs.

Which there happened to be, stretching out along the Dover coast.

Setsuna missed the nervous looks Sora Kaioh traded with the other first years on the couch as she focused on the scouts and the order members who would be leading this mission.

"Voldemort will certainly be out of the country for the New Moon," Setsuna said. "When he returns, he'll have one less Horcrux."

~I Solemnly Swear That I Am Up To No Good~