Walden and Evey were having lunch around midnight and Tony was glumly trying to swallow half a glass of O negative blood when they received a message from Tonks.

Evey nearly fell off her chair as a huge silvery wolf materialised in front of her, before she realised it was only a Patronus. 'Trouble at Hogwarts!' it spoke in Tonks' voice. 'Come at once!' It faded to mist as soon as the message was delivered.

Walden's first reaction, as Tony might have expected, was to forbid Evey to come along. Tony could have told him that it was pointless. Evey didn't even bother to acknowledge Walden's arguments. She grabbed her wand, gave her husband a look that should have incinerated him on the spot, then glanced toward the woods. "I have no idea where Ted is, and he left his phone inside."

"Then go look for him," Walden said, seizing the opportunity. "Tony and I will go ahead, and you can join us when-"

"We're going now," Evey said firmly. "I'll leave a note, and he will join us."

"How?" Walden countered, clearly grappling for the smallest chance to keep her safe. "He can't Apparate."

Evey snorted. "Well, neither can I. Apparating alone over such a long distance will get me killed more likely than whatever is happening at Hogwarts."

She was startled again when the wolf returned suddenly, only for an instant. 'Hurry, please!'

"We're wasting time," Evey said. "Let's go." She marched out of the kitchen without waiting to see if they were following.

Tony quickly cast several basic protective charms on Evey, masking her scent before they reached the wards, and they each took a drop of Felix Felicis, at the risk of wasting it. Tony had no idea if the potion would work on him, but Evey insisted.

Hogwarts castle was deadly quiet when they Apparated in front of the main gates, but they saw flashes of light coming from the Astronomy Tower. There was obviously a battle going on there. They ran toward it.

Tony had turned invisible, as had Evey, but there was little need. They didn't meet anyone in the hallways until they reached the thick of the battle. There seemed to be people everywhere, judging by the noise, but the corridor was plunged in unnatural darkness and they found it all but impossible to tell friend from foe.

Tony caught glimpses of several of his former associates, but even before that, it was Alecto Carrow's wheezy giggle that made him aware that, somehow, Death Eaters had penetrated inside the castle. How in Merlin's name had they accomplished that?

"Perfect occasion to transform into an Animagus," he heard Evey say, somewhere to his left. It made sense; turning into a werewolf, though it may be useful, would certainly cause a panic, and it was clear that they didn't need to worsen the already chaotic situation. "Wal, you should do the same. It'll sharpen our senses of smell, and my hearing. Perhaps we'll see a tad better, too." Evey's wand lit up briefly as she muttered the incantation. Tony couldn't see it, since it was pitch black, but he sensed that her shape was growing, and then growing some more. The same happened to his right where, he assumed, Walden had been standing. A moment later, Tony was flanked by a large brown bear and an even larger kitsune. Both Animagi ran forward into the melee, Evey's pure white fur an ephemeral beacon in the obscurity whenever it came near a source of light. Walden let out a roar that caused an instant of intense silence, but it didn't last.

"The bear's on our side!" Tonks shouted from somewhere ahead. "And the kit…the very big fox, too!" They'd told Dumbledore about Evey's new ability – which she'd mastered easily, likely thanks to her regular transformation into a werewolf of roughly the same size as her Animagus.

Everyone seemed to be grappling in the shadows, although it seemed to matter little to the Death Eaters, and especially to Thorfinn Rowle who, some distance away, was whirling around, casting jinxes and curses at everything that moved. With luck – and they'd made certain to bring plenty of that – he would hit more Death Eaters than members of the Order.

Tony realised abruptly that there were kids, too; some of the Weasleys were here, at least – there was no mistaking the familiar ginger hair. He thought he saw Ginny, but she was gone by the time he reached the spot where he'd seen her.

And that tall, gangly red-haired figure, faintly illuminated by wand light, had to be Bill. He seemed to be struggling with someone – and now he was on the ground, a much larger shadow looming over him.

Tony ran toward him, summoning tiny fireballs and sending them swirling around him to provide a modicum of light. The person who was attacking the eldest Weasley sibling was a towering, broad-shouldered man with long grey hair-

Greyback.

Evey. Tony felt a brief moment of mindless terror at the thought of her, unaware of the danger, but a brief moment was all he had. The Wolf turned his gleaming, light-reflecting eyes on Tony as soon as he approached. Invisible or not, Greyback must have smelled him – Ancients were immune to magic, both harmful and beneficial. He had no way of masking his own scent.

In the few seconds it had taken Tony to reach them, it seemed that Greyback had managed to mess up Bill rather badly, despite being in human form.

Magic would be useless against Greyback, just as it was against himself, Tony knew, so he did the only thing he could think of: he threw himself at the Wolf.

They wrestled for a time on the floor, and Tony heard Greyback's jaw snap shut somewhere uncomfortably close to his throat, but he managed to shove the Wolf slightly aside, with great difficulty. Greyback was bigger than him, and much stronger. As expected, it didn't matter that Tony was invisible, not now that the Wolf had a hold on him. Tony had to get away. He could smell Greyback's breath – it reeked of blood. He had to free himself from Greyback's unyielding grip before–

The Wolf tumbled away from him suddenly, as though he'd been violently pushed. Tony heard him crash against a nearby wall. Tony rose to his feet to quickly check on Bill, feeling his way with his hands: Bill was still alive, as far as he could make out. Healing was not his specialty, however, so there was nothing else he could do for him.

Now to more pressing matters: who could possibly be strong enough to manhandle a Wolf like that? Walden or Evey? Animagi were only as strong as the animals they incarnated. Could a bear or a kitsune-

"Get the hell out of here!" someone yelled at him. "You're no match for the beast, fledgling."

Tony stared blindly ahead. His fireballs had been extinguished the moment he'd launched himself at Greyback, and he was too stunned to summon more.

He recognised the voice, though.

Jeanne. How had she gotten here so fast? How had she even found out that there was a battle going on? Merlin, her surveillance system must be good. Or was she having him followed, somehow? Well, it was irrelevant right then. Judging from the sounds she was making, Jeanne was in trouble. Greyback let out a rumbling bark of a laugh but it quickly turned into a groan. Some distance away, an animal yelped in sudden pain.

Evey.

Tony had to do something. Light. I need light. Still shocked, he fumbled with his wand to illumine the area directly in front of him.

It wasn't bright enough. He tried to get closer, but the impenetrable gloom lifted as he took a first step.

At some point during their scuffle, Jeanne had somehow managed to pin the Wolf down under her. She was definitely stronger than she looked.

Tony saw her razor-sharp fangs move toward Greyback's throat, ready to deliver the killing blow.

"NO!" Tony shouted, stumbling forward, hand half-raised.

It happened so fast. Jeanne turned to him, frowning in annoyance at his interruption, then her eyes widened as Greyback roared wildly and disentangled himself from her. Jeanne fell to the side, and Tony couldn't see her anymore, as she was hidden behind Greyback's imposing body. Before he could even think to move, Tony heard Jeanne screech in rage. This was followed by a very disturbing crunching noise. Jeanne cried out weakly.

Greyback spun his head slowly and flaunted a bloody grin. Tony realised that he'd unconsciously turned himself visible. Jeanne lay utterly still under the Wolf, blood gushing from her throat. Greyback stood up and dusted himself off at leisure, though the left side of his shirt was practically drenched in blood. The gash in his shoulder was bleeding. "Well," the Wolf said matter-of-factly. "That makes us even." Without another word, he turned and fled with all the other Death Eaters.

Tony had a flash of lucidity and looked around for Evey, but her Animagus was yipping at the stairs that led to the Astronomy balcony, her nine tails flapping around without regard for human presence in the area.

She was safe. Either Greyback hadn't realised that she was here – in Animagus form, she smelled, Ted had told them, like a kitsune, and not at all like Evey – or he'd run home to lick his wounds and live to capture her another day. Maybe he was afraid that Tony would finish him off, now that Jeanne had crippled him somewhat.

Tony fell to his knees at Jeanne's side, feeling a crushing rush of guilt. He'd distracted her. It was his fault.

Her blue eye was very wide and unfocused, and she seemed to be gasping for breath – which was simply ridiculous, since she didn't breathe. The amount of blood was disconcerting. Why wasn't she regenerating? When Blackbeard had explained that only a Wolf could permanently damage an Ancient, Tony had assumed it to mean that it would take them more time to heal. Jeanne's wound wasn't healing at all. Blood was spurting out of her mangled carotid like a miniature fountain. "No, no, no," Tony murmured. He gingerly placed his hand on her throat to slow the flow of blood. "Jeanne, tell me what to do. Tell me how to stop the bleeding." He felt a sudden...emptiness inside of him, and glanced up at his maker's face. "Jeanne?" She was absolutely still, her eye staring unblinkingly at the ceiling, mouth slightly ajar. Reflexively, Tony felt for a pulse, before he remembered that she had no heartbeat.

How could she be dead, if she was already dead? It didn't make any fucking sense. Feeling a wave of hysterical panic rising inside him, he slapped her. "Come on! You can't die, Jeanne. You're a bloody Ancient, burn you. Jeanne!" No response. "Tu peux pas mourir," he snarled in mediocre French. "You can't–"

He started suddenly. Someone was calling him – no, summoning him. He rose to his feet hesitantly and realised that Evey stood beside him, back to her human self. She looked bedraggled, her green t-shirt painted crimson on one side, but she appeared unhurt. "Tony, I'm so sorry," she whispered, patting his arm.

He tried to speak, to deny the glaring truth of what had just happened, but his feet were moving of their own accord, carrying him rapidly away from Evey, away from Jeanne.

He had to answer the summons.

Alice was reclining comfortably in the bathtub, in her room at the inn. She had a good book, a glass of blood, and she was surrounded by scented candles. Jeanne had seemed agitated earlier, after receiving news from her wizardly spy, but she'd assured Alice that it was nothing she couldn't handle herself. That she would be back before dawn.

It was nice to have the room to herself for a while. Not that Jeanne was very intrusive, but she did have a tendency to mutter to herself when she was working, and she rarely took a break. They could have booked separate rooms, of course, but with the Wolf in the adjacent chamber, they preferred to stick together. Alice didn't trust Blackbeard entirely, despite the help he'd already provided, despite the fact that he was reporting to Jeanne every other day, recounting in great detail what was going on at the manor. As for Jeanne…well, Jeanne didn't trust anyone.

There was a knock on the door. The bathroom door, which meant that, whoever it was, they'd let themselves into the room. It had to be Jeanne, and if she was bothering Alice in her bath, it had to be a matter of life and death.

Alice hastily tied a towel around her, leaving her hair to hang wetly on her shoulders, and opened the door. It was Blackbeard. Alice frowned suspiciously. "What are you doing here? Jeanne's out."

The Wolf remained uncharacteristically silent as he showed her a half-crumpled note covered with spidery handwriting. 'It's 00.20. Gone to Hogwarts, the 3 of us. Trouble. Join us if you can.'

Alice glanced at the clock above the fireplace. Forty past midnight. They could still make it there. "I know how to contact Jeanne's sorcerer. He can Apparate us at-"

She cut off mid-sentence, one hand springing to her chest. To where her heart must be, provided that she still had one. She felt no pain, but something was happening, something terribly wrong.

Then something broke inside of her, and she understood.

Ted moved forward to catch her as she fell to her knees, but Alice pushed him away. She heard him crash into the bathtub, but the sound seemed to come from far away. Blood trickled at the corners of her eyes as the impossible, appalling thought took form in her mind.

My daughter. My only daughter.

Mo chuisle, mo chroi.

Gorgo sighed contentedly, wrapping her slim body around Imhotep's muscular one. He wasn't asleep, but he appeared to be meditating, a common way to pass the time among the most ancient of the Ancients. Gorgo felt herself drifting away slowly, peacefully…but she jerked backwards as her lover sat up abruptly, half-fell off the bed and landed on his knees on the floor.

"Is something the matter?" Gorgo asked worriedly. She'd never seen him do anything of the sort. When he didn't answer, she draped herself in the bed sheet and joined him, crouching at his side, a hand on his broad, scarred back. "Darling? Is something wrong?"

Something dripped onto the floor. Blood.

Gorgo stared at it in baffled incomprehension. "Are you unwell?" Perhaps he was sick. He may be the eldest, but he couldn't stomach champagne as well as Gorgo did. They shouldn't have drunk. Still, if the bubbly liquid was to blame, Imhotep would be vomiting blood, not…

Was he crying? The modern world was often a cause for sadness and despair, but Imhotep was a rock. He was the most solid man she'd ever encountered, and that spoke volumes, because she had met a lot of men. "Imhotep?" She moved closer, extending her arm around him.

He spoke in his native language, but Gorgo had never learned it. "My love, what did you say?" she prompted him gently.

"Jeanne," he said eventually, his deep voice shattering. His back was shaking, Gorgo realised. He was actually sobbing. "Our Jeanne is dead."

The Original One rose from her cushioned seat with a piercing scream, feeling as though a part of her had been ripped away and torn to shreds.

Jeanne.

She sought her child with her mind, sought her awareness of her, but she found nothing there. There was nothing to be found.

No! It was impossible. She couldn't be gone. She couldn't be dead. Malkoran wouldn't dare…! After all these years, all these cursed millennia, why would he hurt her so, why now?

She was weeping, she realised. She hadn't shed a tear in centuries, perhaps more, not since her last attempt at taking her own life had failed.

She had to compose herself. She took a long, unnecessary breath. It often helped, despite the futility of the gesture. What to do? She couldn't track Jeanne, now that she was…gone, but she needed to know who was responsible for this nameless atrocity.

Antonin. Yes. He might know what happened. She sought the youngest member of their dysfunctional family and summoned him. He shouldn't be long – that was the perk of being a wizard. She hastily wiped the blood from her face with an embroidered handkerchief.

The doorbell rang a few minutes later, and the Mother of All dismissed her servants impatiently, opening the door herself.

The boy looked like death itself. He was even paler than usual. His arms and hands were covered in blood.

He not only knew what had happened, he had been there when it did.

"Come in," she said briskly. That would have to do for an invitation. She glided to the front room, knowing he would follow. She fell lightly in her favourite chair and ordered Antonin to sit on the couch, across from her. "Tell me what happened," she commanded. She regretted being so curt, given the circumstances, but she couldn't help it. She was beyond herself, nearly out of control, spiralling into a grief-induced frenzy. Thankfully, it wouldn't be obvious to anyone but her.

"It was Greyback, Mother." Antonin spoke very softly, enunciating carefully, as if he were in a trance. His eyes stared dully at the coffee table. "There was a battle at Hogwarts, and Greyback… We didn't know he would be there, otherwise… We would never have let Evey come… Wouldn't have gone at all..." There was a long pause, then he seemed to notice that he was digressing. "Greyback attacked a friend of mine, and I tried to stop him." He gave an involuntary shudder. A fledgling, against Greyback? What had he been thinking? Greyback, though he was the newest Wolf to join Malkoran's army, was more powerful than most of his kind, if rumours could be believed. "He was too bloody strong. I thought he was going to crush me, but then someone pushed him away... It was dark, but I heard Jeanne call out to me. I…I wanted to help her, but I couldn't see, and it was over so fast…" He cut off abruptly, quivering harder than ever. He was crying, she realised. Blood drenched his cheeks and dripped on his clenched fists. She rose from her seat to join him on the couch, and she held him for a long time, caressing his hair, murmuring empty, soothing words of comfort. She spoke in the language she knew best, the one who belonged to her and Malkoran alone, but she didn't think it mattered if Antonin understood her or not.

She didn't feel like weeping anymore. Like falling apart. Her cold, dead heart was filled with sorrow and grief, but she had found the culprit. She let outrage and fury fill her to the brim instead. When she got her hands on him, this Greyback character would regret ever being born.

"You can't kill him," Antonin murmured, as though he'd read her mind.

She released her grip on him and frowned darkly. The top of her silky gown was stained with the fledgling's bloody tears, but that was the last of her worries. "Who are you to tell me what I can and cannot do, boy?"

"Mother," he pleaded, "Evey's linked to him. If you kill him…"

By Lilith! She had forgotten about that. That cursed girl again. The curious hybrid had caused more trouble in the few months the Mother had been aware of her existence than anyone she'd ever known before for any length of time. And now the girl would deprive her of her revenge? No, not revenge. Righteous justice. This wasn't merely an emotional response. She had a right to demand Greyback's head, and Malkoran would give it to her. "Antonin, Jeanne was your maker," she hissed. "She was my child. We owe it to her to avenge her death. As for this little…improbable being that you seem to care so much about…she is the least of my preoccupations."

"Well she's not the least of mine!" he retorted with sudden anger. The boy reminded her of Malkoran, sometimes. So amiable and charismatic, so mellow, and yet all who had seen him in a fit of temper had suffered for it. "She's my sister by law, and my best friend, and I'll do many stupid things to prevent her from getting hurt, including physically restraining you, if it comes to that." His eyes shone fervently. This wasn't an idle threat, although he would soon realise that there was nothing he could do to harm her, if he proved foolish enough to try.

"I suggest that you moderate your tone, fledgling," she told him coolly. "Let us both calm down, shall we?"

Antonin stood up, obviously eager to get away from her. He walked up to the window. Dawn was still hours away. He was ruffling his hair and muttering under his breath, but she paid him not enough attention to catch what he was saying. Truth be told, she wouldn't harm the girl if there was a way around it – some of her other children had taken a liking to her, notably Gorgo and Imhotep, for whatever reason – but Greyback had to be held accountable for his actions. She would not let this slide. For that matter, she couldn't fathom why Malkoran was leaving him be. Greyback was a danger to them all, Wolves and Ancients both.

Her path was clear. She had to find Malkoran and force him to take part, to be the leader his Wolves needed. She would demand justice, and she would not take no for an answer.

For that…she would have to talk to him. Preferably without wrenching the heart out of his chest, no matter how attractive the concept.

Well, this is just adding insult to injury, the Bloodmother thought bitterly.

Tony returned an hour after running off without a word, after his maker had met her final death at the hands of Fenrir fucking Greyback. The bloody Wolf had been right there, and Evey hadn't spotted him until it was too late. He had fled, again, like the coward he was, and Merlin knew where he was now, or when they would see him again.

At least he hadn't captured her again. She briefly wondered why he hadn't – hadn't he sensed her presence at all? If so, she would definitely rub it in Walden's face that becoming an Animagus had been a genius idea – but decided that she didn't care. Walden was unharmed, and…almost everyone else was alive. That was…the best she could have hoped for, given the tragic circumstances.

Before she could call out to Tony, Mrs Weasley and Fleur both rose from their seats to embrace him. It was good that Mrs Weasley had finally accepted Fleur into her family, but it was a shame that it had taken Bill being savagely disfigured for it to happen. Tony simply stood there, motionless, as the two women thanked him profusely for saving their son and husband-to-be.

"Looks like I didn't help much," Tony muttered when they let him get a word in edgewise. To be fair, Bill did look awful, as though someone had put his face in a meat grinder and hastily attempted to put everything back where it belonged.

Bill's wounds were grievous indeed, but Madam Pomfrey was confident that he would fully recover. Unfortunately, he would always bear the scars of his encounter with the Wolf, but Greyback wasn't transformed when he'd mauled Bill, so Remus believed that he wouldn't become a werewolf. Besides, even Wolves needed the full moon to successfully turn someone into a werewolf.

"Dolohov," Remus said quietly, "if you hadn't intervened, Bill would be dead." For the first time since Evey had known him, the werewolf didn't sound suspicious at all of Tony. He sounded almost…respectful.

Tony shrugged indifferently. "Maybe." He sidestepped the two women who were blocking his path and joined Walden beside the cot in which Evey was resting.

Madam Pomfrey had insisted that Evey lie down, because her t-shirt was covered with blood and the Hogwarts nurse had thought to find a daunting injury somewhere on her person, but there was nothing. Jeanne must have bitten Greyback on the shoulder, or scratched him, and the mirror wound on Evey's body, even in Animagus form, had regenerated quickly – although the pain had been quite real. Still, she was exhausted, after running around wildly, never certain of what was happening, and worrying about everyone as she tried to attack and defend the right people.

"Are you alright?" Tony asked her anxiously as he sat on the cot. "That looks like a lot of blood."

Jeanne had done a pretty good job on Greyback, admittedly. Evey almost wished she'd killed him, but then Evey would also be dead, wouldn't she? Or would she have regenerated fast enough to survive, while Greyback died? Interesting notion. And if an Ancient bit Evey…would it harm Greyback as though they'd wounded him directly?

How had they not considered that possibility before?

Well, it hardly mattered. Walden would never allow her to attempt it, or even think about it, really. In any case, they would need Greyback to be in the vicinity if they ever tried anything of the sort; they needed to know that it was working, that Evey wasn't bleeding out just for the sake of it. They might only get one shot at this risky experiment, so it would be complicated to test, to say the least. Especially without Walden finding out about it. For that matter, Evey doubted that Tony would be on board, or even Ted.

If Jeanne were still alive, though, Evey had no doubt that she would have volunteered to slit Evey's throat or cut her heart out. Hell, she might even have done it without Evey's consent.

Evey forced the unpleasant thoughts out of her mind for the time being. Tony needed her. "I'm fine. You?"

"No," he replied truthfully. "Not quite." He took a look around the infirmary. "Where's she?"

He meant Jeanne's body, Evey surmised. "She…um…kind of disintegrated, soon after you left." She glanced at her husband for help.

"Her body turned into tiny blood droplets, which quickly evaporated," Walden said. "There's nothing left of her now. Sorry, mate."

Tony frowned slightly. "I see. Well. Everyone else alive?" he asked derisively.

It wasn't like him to be so cynical. He would regret that tone when Evey announced the dire news. "Dumbledore is dead," she murmured. She still couldn't quite believe it. Dumbledore wasn't just a man or a wizard; he was a fucking legend. It felt like being contemporary to the death of Merlin himself.

She didn't add that Snape had murdered Dumbledore in cold blood, because Tony looked utterly crestfallen. Obviously, he hadn't expected that. Evey sat up and hugged him. He was always so good at making her feel better whenever she was down or angry or frustrated. She wracked her brain for potentially happier topics, and her eyes fell on Tonks's flashy pink hair. It'd been a mousy grey earlier that night. "Thankfully, at least one good thing happened tonight," she finally told Tony in an effort to cheer him up a bit.

He looked down at her glumly. "Yeah, Gibbon's dead, I saw that. Should we really rejoice over that, though?"

Evey shook her head. "Not that." She pointed toward Remus and Tonks. Remus was holding her waist and murmuring in her ear. "That," Evey said with a small grin.

Tony scoffed, but there was the faintest trace of a smile on his bloodied, youthful face. "About damn time."