For a week I thought I was in the clear. There was no further inquiries from the aurors, and I didn't receive any summons from the Ministry. Filch's bones were all in the sewer system now, with nothing left to incriminate me in the vents.

Overall, I'd gotten away with murder, but I didn't feel good about it. I'd told Snape I hadn't had anything against Filch and it was true. He'd been unpleasant, but he hadn't directed any special attention toward me; if anything, he'd been a little more nasty towards the Purebloods. Maybe it had been their obvious disdain toward him.

Rumors were all over school about what had happened to him. The prevailing theory was that he had been murdered by Voldemort, or possibly a student that he'd annoyed one too many times. People knew I'd been questioned about it, but they seemed to take the fact that I was styill at school as proof I hadn't done it.

It was a surprisingly progressive attitude, one that would have been more reassuring if I didn't suspect they'd have been just as sure that I had done it if I'd been hauled away. They seemed amazingly credulous, believing everything they read in the papers.

I had to keep reminding myself that they existed in a pre-Internet world. Content was regulated, and every other provider wasn't lying or attempting to manipulate them in some way. In some ways it was a more innocent time, and I suspect that even the muggles would be a little more gullible.

"Did you hear that they've given up on the search for Filch?" Hermione asked.

"Oh?" I asked, as casually as I could.

We were in the library again, and I was studying the human revealing spell. It was a more advanced version of the Revelio charm, which was considered hard for a second year. It was wickedly useful though; it would reveal secret passages, invisible things, secret messages and even to reveal the true appearance of someone who had changed their appearance by a spell.

There was a third spell that would reveal the presence of spells cast on objects or potions. All three spells were ones I desperately wanted, for obvious reasons. When I'd mastered them, I was going to be casting them every time I took a bath or was in the toilet.

"They've already hired his replacement. He should be coming to school today!"

Why she would be so peppy about a new school caretaker I couldn't be sure. I'd always thought of Filch as a janitor, but the House Elves had done most of the cleaning. Was he their supervisor, or was he just an extra set of eyes for the staff?

"What have you heard about him?" I asked.

"Some people are saying he's a criminal!" Hermione said. She sounded breathless. "That the only reason he's here as caretaker is because it was a choice between this and Azkaban!"

"What did he do?"

"They say he deals in stolen goods..." Hermione said. She stared at me. "Why are you looking so cheerful all of a sudden?"

"It's good to know people who have connections on the outside," I said. "They're watching the owls now, so it's not like I could get anything good through Mail Order."

"What could you possibly want to buy that you couldn't get here or through the twins?"

"Snape has a standing order that he is to be informed about anything that I bring into the school. He's got this weird idea that I'm going to blow up the school or something."

More like he'd gotten even more cautious since Filch's disappearance, but I didn't mention that to Hermione. I was touched that she'd never even bothered asking me if I'd killed him or not. There had been other students who hadn't been as careful, although I'd simply told them that I didn't know what they were talking about; clearly the aurors had been asking witnesses at the school what had happened and I'd just been one more witness.

I coughed as I detected someone walking toward the gates. I'd been more cautious about watching what was going on outside since I'd been attacked. I'd also gotten a lot more messy in the bathroom. I made sure to splash water all over the floor and then to keep bugs watching for disturbances in the water.

I had them paying more attention to smell and hearing as well. I had an idea for detecting someone who was silenced by listening for the absence of sound in a particular spot. I hadn't quite managed it yet, partially because I needed a silenced target to practice with. That was one more spell I needed to work on.

"He's just arrived, I think," I said to Hermione.

She stared at me, but didn't ask how I knew. I hated to lead her on and make her believe something that wasn't true, but telling anyone was a good way to get myself killed. In this world, every adult Cape was capable of being a Master, which meant that no one could be trusted with any secrets.

There were apparently high level spells that would keep them from spilling secrets, but it would be years before I was skilled enough to use them.

The man walking toward the gate had a familiar look to him; he looked shifty. He was short, with bowed legs and straggly red hair. He was unshaven, and his eyes were baggy and bloodshot. The bugs nearest to him smelled alcohol and tobacco.

Most of the most dangerous people I'd met had a way of looking at people in a way that was familiar. It was as though they were assessing everything around them for how threatening they were. They wouldn't dismiss anyone, not even a Kindergarten student, because inn our world, even that child could have strange and dangerous powers.

They might not even be a child at all; there were Strangers and Changers who could look like someone else after all.

This man scanned everything in a similar way, but what he was looking at was different. It was as though he was looking at everything and trying to assess how valuable it was, as though he was planning to drive a U-Haul up to the castle, use an expansion charm on it, and then steal the entire castle blind.

I understood people like him, even if I didn't always like them. It was possible that I might even be able to use him.

The man was led into the castle by Snape himself, who sneered. Snape waited until he was inside the Headmaster's office before he left, as though he didn't trust the man to be alone in the halls.

"Love what ye've done to the place," the man said as he walked into the office.

"This isn't a social call, Mundungus," Dumbledore said quietly. "Someone has done away with Argus Filch and there was an attack on one of the students."

"Heard about that... it's the crazy one, right, the Yank?"

"Miss Hebert is a complicated person," Dumbledore said. "Which does not please certain parties, who prefer to keep things simple."

"Don't like her out-Slytherin their kids," the man said. He grinned. "Sounds like it'll be good for the little snots."

"More importanly, I need to know if these incidents are specifically directed toward her, or if they are the beginning of a slow assault on Hogwarts itself. I wouldn't have thought it of Tom, but he has been much more subtle lately than he has been in the past."

"Killing the muggleborn kids isn't exactly his style," the man said. "Some of the people workin for him, though..."

"Whether it is his decision, or simply acts carried out by those in his employ, I need to find out more. To that end, I need you to take over the role of caretaker."

"Spy on the kiddies?" the man asked. "Sounds safer than being out there, right now. It's not just aurors that are going missing. There's been dealers in questionable items going missing too..."

"Why would he eliminate dealers in stolen goods?" Dumbledore asked.

"They were muggleborns," the man said. "Making a tidy profit trading things with the muggles and selling them to purebloods who wouldn't be caught dead in a muggle shop. It's an underground market, because the Ministry wants us to keep our distance from the muggle world. It's not exactly illegal; but the aurors are likely to make their unhappiness known about it."

I'd suspected that there had to be a certain amount of trade with the muggle world. At the very least food couldn't be created; the small population of wizards wouldn't need that much food in the scheme of things, but it was probably more cost effective to buy it from the non-magical world than to set up Wizarding farms.

The Ministry probably had official methods of making those deals, though, and they wouldn't look kindly on outsiders horning in on their turf. Governments tended to be very protective of their power.

"Anything to isolate us even further from the outside world," Dumbledore said. "They refuse to believe that muggles have anything to teach."

The man chuckled. "Some of the best fences I know are muggles. You don't have to talk me into thinking they've got brains."

"Nevertheless, the job as caretaker here will not be entirely without danger," Dumbledore said. "There has been some measure of suspicion in Mr. Filch's disappearance on Miss Hebert. Severus doesn't believe that she would act maliciously, but..."

"Somebody who can kill a troll isn't somebody to underestimate. I'm not stupid."

"I wish I could say as much for half of Slytherin," Dumbledore sighed. "I'd hoped that she would lead them to understand that their prejudices against the muggles and muggleborns were unfounded, but instead she seems to have convinced them that they are incredibly dangerous."

"Might not be the worst message for them to get, if it makes them back off."

"Fear and respect are two different things," Dumbledore said. "Fear of what the muggleborn represent is what is fueling Voldemort's rise. Making it worse will only drive them to join him."

I felt someone shaking my arm, and I looked at Hermione.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

"I was just lost in thought," I said. "How are you coming with the Revelio charm?"

"It's fascinating!" she said. "There are different versions for the different major species. There's one for humans, for goblins, for centaurs..."

"And they are better than the general charm why?"

"Because they are easier to cast," Hermione said. "Quicker, even though they are more limited in scope. Some people can even cast them silently and wandlessly."

"So we should probably focus on the human revealing charm, and maybe pick up the House elf charm later," I said. "The Death Eaters wouldn't stoop to using Goblins or Centaurs."

Hermione thought I was studying the spells because of the invisible attack on the school lawn. In a way she was right, even though the attack in the bathroom had been more immediate.

"You need to learn these things too," I said. "Because even if you and your family go to Europe for your summer break, I doubt dentists can afford to spend three months away from their practice."

Hermione scowled. "You know, when I start talking about what my parents do, the purebloods start looking at me like I'm...well, you?"

I considered that for a moment. Dentists pried people's mouths opened, then forced a drill inside. They sometimes yanked teeth forcibly out of someone's head. Just looking at dentist's tools was like looking at something out of a horror movie.

"Maybe you shouldn't bother," I said. "Or just give them the abbreviated version. Just imagine what they'd think about a surgeon!"

Cutting people open with a knife, cracking their ribs to expose their still beating heart...it also sounded terrible in the right kind of light.

Her eyes rounded.

"And what about plastic surgeons?" Hermione said. "I saw a special about them on the telly once, and it looked barbaric even to me."

Ripping people's faces off and then pulling it back behind their head so that it wasn't wrinkled any more, but leaving them looking like some kind of strange mummy?

"The Wizarding world is kind of innocent about some things," I said. "And maybe we shouldn't be the ones to enlighten them."

The purebloods were already afraid enough of the muggles, although I supposed that there might be some use to be made in those images. It wasn't like Wizarding medicine couldn't be used for torture.

There were spells that would vanish bones, that would grow teeth to the point that they would crack the skull and kill someone if allowed to continue long enough. A simple episky spell would allow mundane torture to continue long past the time that muggle torturers would have had to quit.

Transmute someone's head into that of a shark and leave them in the open air, and they'd begin to suffocate. It would make waterboarding look amateurish, although speaking might be a problem.

I sensed someone coming toward us at a high rate of speed. It was Neville, and he seemed to be agitated.

Looking up, I saw him walking rapidly toward me. My hand went for my wand, but I didn't lift it. Still I was startled as he lunged toward me and hugged me tightly.

"What's going on?" I asked slowly.

He held onto me tightly enough that I was having trouble breathing.

"You did it. You did it!"

"What did I do?" I asked, pushing him away from me.

I hadn't been hugged in... a long time. It had been years and I had largely forgotten what it felt like. The fact that it felt nice wasn't enough to keep me from feeling uncomfortable with it, especially as it kept my wand arm pinned.

"My mother is awake," Neville said. He was crying.

It took us more than ten minutes to get the story from him. Apparently Neville's parents had been tortured under the Cruciatus for long enough that they'd basically been driven into a catatonic state. They'd been unable to respond to anyone, and Neville had never really gotten to know them.

Madam Pomfrey had used the scans she'd gotten of my own brain to help with their case. Apparently I had a similar pattern in my head, but I'd gotten better, which wasn't something that had ever happened before.

She'd told me that there was some evidence of brain damage, but since I seemed to be functioning perfectly fine not to worry about it.

Wizarding magic wasn't as advanced on the psychiatric front as in other areas, so this was considered groundbreaking.

Furthermore, Dumbledore had suggested using a pensieve... pulling the memories of the torture from their mind over and over. Obliviation didn't really destroy memories; it covered them up. Pensieve memories grew weaker and weaker each time the original was taken without replacing it, like a piece of paper being written on and erased overt and over again. Eventually the paper just grew thinner and thinner.

Dumbledore had been kind enough to give me the credit for that idea, probably as a way of promoting his muggleborn agenda.

"She's still not... normal," Neville admitted. "I went to see her and she has to take calming potions and other stuff, and she still has lapses. But she was able to recognize me, and she talked to me!"

He seemed excited, so I didn't say anything to burst his bubble. I glanced at Hermione, and saw that she was thinking the same thing I was.

It was great that she was having moments of lucidity, but it was possible that where she was now was as good as she was ever going to get. It might even be that she would revert to her former state.

Or she might get all the way better. There was no way to know, but seeing the beaming look on Neville's face, I couldn't think of disabusing him of the hope that his family might one day be back together again.

"It didn't work on my Da," he said, looking suddenly dejected. "Probably because they tortured him longer, or maybe because he's a male and male brains are different than female."

"You could always turn him into a woman," I joked weakly.

He stared at me. "Do you think that would work?"

"Probably...not?" I said. "You could always mention it to the mediwitches and see what they say, but I wouldn't get my hopes up."

The last thing I needed was to be the one who broke Neville's heart. He'd been loyal to me when he hadn't had to, despite a lot of peer pressure to reject me. That was a sign of inner courage.

He reminded me a little of Theo sometimes. He hadn't been raised by Nazis, but he had turned against his own people's native prejudices to look for a better way.

I hesitated.

While puncturing Neville's enthusiasm might cause him pain now, it would save him pain later. If I was actually his friend, I'd need to be truthful with him.

"You know this might be as good as it gets, right?" I asked slowly.

He stopped and stared at me.

"She might keep getting better... but she might not," I said. "But either way, you should treasure the time you have with her. It's a little like she's risen from the dead..."

For a moment he looked offended, but that look was soon replaced by a thoughtful one.

"After my mother died, there were times that I'd give the whole world just for one more hour with her," I said. "Now you've got that chance. If it doesn't get any better than this, then you should enjoy the time you have with her. If it does...then that's the icing on the cake."

He nodded after a moment, and then he and Hermione started talking excitedly about the things he was going to tell his mother.

As I watched them, it felt nice that there was at least a little good news. I had a curious sense of foreboding, though.

The universe didn't seem to like letting me have nice things, not without taking twice as much away. Or maybe I was just as paranoid as people seemed to think I was.

I wasn't even sure which was worse.