A/N: Hello everyone! Several weeks of break, I know, and I do apologise… Long A/N below – skip it if you don't want to read it.

So part of the delay on this chapter (beyond all the 'real life' insanity) was that I was suddenly struck with the most marvellous idea for the next book (Part III), which caused me to rewrite an introductory chapter I'd had written for six months… which led to a new second chapter as well… which then led me to alter something in this chapter… and anyway, it was round and round we went for quite a while until at last I thought things were sorted. Incidentally, we're such a long way off from the start of the next book (probably at least new year), but I cannot wait for you all to see it! I think you'll really enjoy where that book will take us and the POVs that bring us there. I actually think the first two chapters of that book have been my favourite things I've written thus far!

In the meantime, I shall have to balance my excitement about reaching those new chapters with my desire to never rush a project at the expense of the writing… and hopefully we'll soldier on together.

Finally, I don't know how many of you have had a chance to see Fantastic Beasts as yet, but two things on that score. 1) If you haven't seen it, you should – it's wonderful and quite Rowling; 2) if you have seen it, then you may have caught by now that it actually provides the answer we have been working toward as to how (other than his highly useful eagle) Gellert Grindelwald manages to know quite a bit more than he should! A happy coincidence I was most excited to see.

In any case, I've ranted long enough, and I'm sure you're all anxious for the next instalment… Thank you to everyone who reviewed Chapter 23! Comments to individual reviewers are at the end of the chapter. I hope you all like this next chapter, and please do read and review!

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DISCLAIMER: Any and all familiar characters and story lines are the property of the wonderful Joanne Rowling, in whose world I am honoured and privileged to have an opportunity to play for a while.

Chapter 24: Divining the Future

Professor Trelawney's classroom was exceedingly hot and stuffy. Set atop North Tower, Harry expected there would be significant breeze, but it seemed Sybill was not overly fond of the outdoors. The round room was darkened despite the brightness of the day outside; thick curtains pulled across every window. The scarlet of the curtains and the shawls draped over various lamps cast an odd, blood-coloured glow over the space. Candles flickered in sconces and on little round tables set low into the floor, around which poufs and cushions were arranged like some sort of Middle Eastern lounge. The room had three hearths, all glowing with some sort of purple, perfumed fire. The overwhelming effect reminded Harry strongly of a hookah restaurant back in Surrey: a place he'd only ever seen from the outside, as it was Uncle Vernon's second-least favourite location in town, behind wherever Harry happened to be.

'Good morning, and welcome to the subtle and curious art of Divination.'

The ethereal voice came from the shadows, and more than a few students started in surprise. Harry, who had recognised Professor Trelawney's mystic tone, was a bit less shocked than everyone else when she stepped smoothly into the candlelight.

Most of the class looked intimidated and more than a little apprehensive as Professor Trelawney made her way down the raised levels between the poufs. Harry could understand the sentiment. Just as she had been the previous summer, the professor was draped in innumerable scarves and shawls, with dozens of beaded necklaces and bangles tinkling as she walked. Her dark green eyes were magnified ten times over by thick spectacles, and she did not seem to blink as she surveyed the faces of her new pupils.

'It is lovely to see you all at last; in the physical sense, at least,' Professor Trelawney said enigmatically. 'I do not often descend from my tower, you understand. I find that mixing with the mundane chaos of the general school clouds my Inner Eye.'

Ron gave a muffled snort from beside Harry. Most of the class, however, looked deeply impressed. Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown, who were seated a few poufs away, leaned in eagerly with expressions of wonder.

'You will find,' the seer continued, turning at last at the front of the room to face them, 'That Divination is much less a field of magical study than an art form; a way of life. I can instruct you, of course, on how to use your talents… but I cannot bestow upon you the gift of the Sight. It is something you are born with: a burden granted to few. Books, exams, even wandwork will be of little use to you here.'

Beside him, Harry saw Hermione give a disbelieving squirm, as she caressed the cover of Unfogging the Future. He exchanged an amused grin with Ron.

Professor Trelawney proceeded to give them a broad introduction to Divination, her speech spattered with a few ominous predictions that had most of the class shivering and Hermione tutting disbelievingly under her breath. Then she set them all to drinking cups of tea, from which they were to read the leaves of their partners.

''S too hot,' Ron complained, sticking out his tongue in protest as he tried to gulp from his cup.

Harry grimaced, pulling his attention back to their table and away from the pandemonium around Neville's, where he'd smashed his second cup in as many minutes.

'Maybe we won't have to do it, if it takes the whole lesson to cool,' he put in hopefully, dunking a spoon into his own tea in a half-hearted effort to draw out the heat.

'Oh, rubbish,' said Hermione impatiently. She removed Harry's spoon, whipped out her wand, and cast a simple cooling charm over each of their cups.

'My dear!' Professor Trelawney exclaimed, sweeping over toward their poufs and looking scandalised. 'No… no, no! You mustn't mix the ethereal and the mundane! You will risk upsetting the delicate balance of the clairvoyant auras!'

Hermione wrinkled her nose. 'But that's just silly,' she insisted, tucking her wand away again. 'The tea's too hot to drink else. And besides, the leaves are already in the cup, aren't they? They're hardly going to shift just because the tea has cooled.'

Professor Trelawney shook her head in a tragic sort of way, but glided off toward Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown without further comment.

Harry and Ron stared at Hermione.

'What?' she challenged, snatching her cup off the table with a glare.

'Er, nothing,' said Harry quickly. He reached for his own tea, draining it as quickly as he could. When they'd finished, the three of them passed the cups clockwise.

The lumpy tea leaves at the bottom of the cup looked to Harry to be exactly that: mushed up tea leaves. He could no sooner see shapes in the dregs than he could have performed Legilimency on Snape.

'What do you reckon?' asked Ron, looking up from his contemplation of Harry's cup with a similar blank stare.

Harry glanced around. Hermione had set Ron's cup aside completely with a little huff of disapproval and was now flipping through the assigned pages as if hoping the answer would present itself. Most of the rest of the class were scrutinising their partners' teacups with furrowed brows, or otherwise bent so low over Unfogging the Future that only the tops of their heads were visible.

Harry sighed. 'I've got nothing,' he admitted to Hermione. 'You're out of tea.'

'Focus beyond the mundane, children,' Professor Trelawney's voice called out from over the crowd. Neville, who had not noticed the seer at his back, jumped so violently he sent a third teacup to shatter on the floor. 'Allow your mind to open to the possibilities of the portents of the universe.'

Hermione scoffed audibly again. Harry shook himself.

'Er – right,' he said, bending over the cup again. But before he could 'read' anything in the lump of soggy detritus, Professor Trelawney swept over to their table, swiping Harry's own teacup out of Ron's hand. She peered at the base of the cup through her oversized lenses, twisting it this way and that. Then she let out a dramatic gasp, tears filling her eyes as she lowered the cup with trembling hand…

Half an hour later, Harry, Ron and Hermione trailed the unusually silent class down the ladder in short temper. Hermione and Ron were bickering incessantly, and most of the rest of their form mates were darting mistrustful and fearful looks Harry's way every few feet. He was trying his best to appear unconcerned… but his thoughts were in tumult.

Was Trelawney a true seer, the kind that Dumbledore swore were real? Or was McGonagall right… was she nothing but an old fraud?

The Grim…

Harry had never heard of it before. Most of the other students had seemed shocked – even terrified – when Trelawney had made the pronouncement. Only the Muggle-born students, like Hermione, seemed to think it sceptical at all. Even Ron was having trouble looking him in the eye.

And Harry couldn't help but remember… that beast on Magnolia Crescent…

But, that dog had charged Snape; had bitten him. The Grim was supposed to be a spectre, wasn't it? An omen? So how could it have bitten a live person?

'Harry!' Hermione hissed sharply at him. Harry was brought out of his musings with a jolt.

'Er – pardon?' he said, looking at her stern expression in surprise.

'I said,' she began in an irritated tone, 'That I have to pop in the loo.'

Harry felt his face grow warm. 'Er – ok,' he said, not getting the point. 'Did you want us to wait for you or do you want to –'

'Don't you have to go?' she asked pointedly. Ron, who still had his arms crossed at the recent row, dropped his mouth in indignation.

'Hermione!' he said in shock. 'I think Harry can –'

'Not really,' Harry answered honestly, in confusion. Hermione's glare intensified.

'But you just said,' she continued through gritted teeth, ignoring Ron, 'That you were going to duck in before our next class.'

And the switch clicked in Harry's preoccupied brain.

'Oh!' he said, 'Oh, right. Yeah. I did have to go.'

Ron stared between the two of them with narrowed eyes. 'What's going –'

But Harry allowed Hermione to take his hand, tugging him back up the corridor. 'We'll catch you up Ron!' he called back, as they sprinted around the corner.

'Oof – Gerroff Hermione, I'm coming,' he grumbled, pulling his wrist out of her grasp as they ducked out of sight. He rubbed at his shoulder with a scowl, where it felt like she'd nearly pulled his arm from its socket.

'Honestly, you can be as thick as him sometimes,' she chastised, slipping open the door to a darkened classroom. 'Come on – we've only ten minutes.'

Harry continued to mutter darkly, but he followed her inside. 'We're going to have a job keeping this from him,' he observed, watching Hermione with trepidation as she fumbled with the chain of the Time-Turner.

'We will if you can't remember the schedule,' she pointed out with another glare. 'Here, cop hold.'

Harry took the chain she passed him, pulling it over his own neck. He had to stand quite close to her to manage it.

'Ready?' she asked him. He nodded, and watched her spin the little hourglass twice.

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It was a very unnerving sensation. Harry felt as if he was rushing backward very quickly through an odd tunnel of sound and colour, though he could feel his feet solid on the ground. After a few moments, the classroom came back into focus. The lighting was just a bit altered through the windows along the side, but otherwise it appeared quite the same.

'Er – are you sure it's worked?' he asked as Hermione lifted the chain from around his neck.

'I think so,' she said, glancing at the window. 'Let's go – Arithmancy is all the way on the other side of the school.'

'Right,' said Harry, still trying to wrap his head around what they'd done.

Hermione pulled the door open again and led the way into the corridor. He followed her back up the way they'd come, then nearly ran into her as she put a hand out to stop them at the corner.

'Wait a moment,' she said in a whisper. 'I'm listening.'

'For what?'

'For us,' she clarified, cocking her head toward the turn in the corridor.

'For –'

'We came this way up to North Tower,' Hermione explained, correctly anticipating his confusion. 'We've got to make sure the class has all finished heading toward the stairs, or we'll get awkward questions.'

'R-right,' said Harry. This whole time travel thing was still terribly confusing, whatever Hermione said.

'Ok, I think they've gone,' she determined after a moment. 'Let's go.'

Still shaking his head in slight bemusement, Harry followed Hermione through the castle. He was nearly out of breath as they finally slipped into the queue outside the Arithmancy classroom; grateful that Hermione seemed to know where they were headed, because he certainly had not.

'Oi, its Pass-out Potty!' a drawling, delighted voice called from behind him.

Harry cringed. He should have expected Malfoy.

'Ignore him,' Hermione whispered at his ear, as Harry made to turn and fire off a retort. She grabbed his wrist again, less aggressively than she had done upstairs. Harry gnashed his teeth in frustration, but obeyed the light pressure without comment.

He allowed Hermione to steer him into the classroom. Luckily, they were able to find seats in a back corner out of direct sight of most of the Slytherin group. Harry was grateful – he didn't relish hearing the taunting all through the lesson.

This classroom actually reminded Harry more of his Muggle school days than any of his other Hogwarts lessons. The blackboard was covered already in complex equations, and there were mathematics charts on the classroom walls, what looked suspiciously like abacuses along a table in the front corner (though Harry could see the pieces were moving themselves) and dozens of high bookshelves lined with thick, complex-looking volumes.

The class was mostly made up of Slytherins, to Harry's horror, though he saw a fair few Ravenclaw students mixed in as well. He and Hermione were the only Gryffindor students in attendance, and there did not seem to be a single Hufflepuff enrolled. Professor Vector was the last to enter the classroom. She could not have made more striking a contrast to Professor Trelawney's entrance. While the mystical psychic had appeared out of the shadows of the back of the room, draped in her gauzy shawls and bangles and carrying on about the auras of the universe, Septima Vector's manner reminded Harry far more of Minerva.

She was younger than most of their teachers – perhaps forty or so, Harry guessed. Her hair was a honey shade between blonde and brown, clipped back neatly from her face. She was of average height and build, dressed in simple robes of deep blue, and her arms were laden with a stack of heavy-looking books on which several quills and a ream of parchment were precariously balanced. She set the lot down on her desk at the front of the classroom, and turned to face her pupils with a small smile.

'Welcome to Arithmancy,' Professor Vector said in a business-like tone. She flicked her wand toward the door as she spoke, sealing it.

'This study will be unlike any other subject you have read thus far,' the professor continued. 'Arithmancy, as most of you must know, is concerned with divining the future.'

Harry, who had not actually had a clue what Arithmancy was (there had not been any assigned reading for the first day), started a bit in surprise.

'Didn't we already have that lesson?' he muttered to Hermione.

'Mr Potter?' the professor asked pointedly.

He flushed, as all the students swivelled in their seats to peer at him.

'Er –' he began, feeling hot, 'Sorry, professor. I was surprised. I thought Divination was the subject on fortune-telling.'

Many of the Slytherins tittered derisively, but Professor Vector silenced the room with a glare.

'Precisely, Mr Potter,' she said without malice. 'Divination is a fortune-telling magic, concerned with reading uncertainties in visions, smoke or other mediums. But ultimately, those who hope to succeed in Divination must have some of the gift of Sight themselves, in order to make accurate predictions. It is not an art which can be easily learned. Can anyone tell me the difference between Divination and Arithmancy?'

Predictably, it was Hermione's hand that was first to hit the air.

'Ms?'

'Granger, professor,' Hermione supplied helpfully. 'And Arithmancy is divining in a different sense. Not "divine" as in read the Heavens, but "divine" as in deduce. Arithmancy is about using logic and numerology to predict the future – deciphering patterns, establishing trends or solving equations, usually. It's about finding the balance of probabilities, and it intersects closely with magical theory.'

'Indeed,' Professor Vector agreed with a nod. 'Ten points to Gryffindor. Now, let's see here…'

The professor trailed off, shuffling some papers on her desk and pulling out the roll. She spent a few minutes calling out the names of each student in the lesson, then set the list aside. She picked up a much thicker stack of parchment in its place.

'Now,' she said, coming around her desk with the papers, 'As we will be working with numbers and increasingly complex equations in this subject, I wish to get a better idea of your current capability. I know you all have had mathematics prior to Hogwarts, but I have found in my tenure here that levels of proficiency vary greatly. I usually start your first term with a fairly comprehensive exam, designed to test your comfort with basic maths. Nothing to panic about,' she assured them, as every student looked decidedly worried. 'It will not be marked. It is just to give me an idea of what I can expect from you, and which subjects we will need to cover at the outset.'

She tossed the stack of parchment high in the air, flicking her wand at it. The scrolls zoomed forward at once, setting themselves in front of each student.

'This will take the rest of the period,' she informed them, once the last exam had settled in front of Theodore Nott. 'You may begin.'

'An exam in the very first lesson,' Harry complained in an undertone to Hermione as they headed quickly down from the seventh floor at the bell to meet their Gryffindor classmates outside Transfiguration. 'What a welcome.'

'Oh, it wasn't too difficult,' Hermione said airily, jumping neatly over a trick stair between the sixth and fifth floor landings.

'Speak for yourself,' Harry countered darkly. 'I was never great shakes at maths. I'm surprised I even remembered as much as I did… I think I did alright through question 37 or so, but I didn't know anything in the last page.'

Hermione shrugged as they turned off at the correct corridor. 'Well, at least you'll probably know more than the pure-bloods,' she pointed out. 'Did you see Malfoy's face when Professor Vector announced an exam? He looked ill.'

Harry raised an eyebrow. 'Why would pure-bloods be bad at maths?' he asked in bewilderment.

'Well, most of them don't ever take proper school before Hogwarts, do they?' Hermione reasoned.

Harry was brought up short, pausing in the empty corridor. 'Er – don't they?'

Hermione sighed in exasperation. 'Don't you ever read, Harry?' she asked sternly.

'Oi – I read all the time!' Harry protested. 'But it's not as if I have "How to Raise Your Pure-blood" on my bedside –'

'Oh, never mind,' Hermione cut across him impatiently. 'In any case, Muggle-borns go to Muggle primary school, obviously, as they don't usually learn they are wizards until they turn eleven, when their Hogwarts letters are delivered. Some parents chose to send their children to Muggle schools until they are accepted at Hogwarts, but more often wizarding children are educated at home by their parents or tutors until they come here, or else study in smaller groups taught by one set of parents. For one, it's a lot harder to keep the magical world a secret when you are five or six and have never known anything else, and a lot of wizarding families feel it's too great a risk to expose their child to Muggle children and families, who might in turn suspect something about the young wizard or his or her parents even if the child doesn't share the secret on purpose. When both the child's parents are wizards who have never lived in the Muggle world, it is even less likely that the child will be sent to Muggle school, you see?'

'Yeah, I reckon so,' said Harry, trying to look as though this information were not surprising to him. 'But why would that mean that wizard children don't have maths?'

'I expect they've all had the basics,' said Hermione fairly. 'But it's different when you've not been given proper instruction. From what I've read, pre-Hogwarts wizarding education covers a lot of reading and writing, and a lot of wizarding culture, history and tradition – etiquette and structure of the government and things like that. I'm sure they know how to add and subtract and such, because of course you need that sort of thing in Potions. But wizarding parents leave the more complex sort of maths for later, for classes like Arithmancy. You might ask Ron, if you're curious.'

'Speaking of Ron,' Harry said, shaking himself a bit as he checked his watch, 'We'd better get a move on. We're due at McGonagall's in two minutes.'

Hermione jumped, checking her own watch quickly. 'Come on!' she moaned on seeing the time, and Harry raced to keep up with her as she tore down the corridor.

They only just made it in time, rounding the final corner to find their class just filing into the door that had been recently opened by Professor McGonagall.

'Thought you two fell in,' Ron grumbled, taking in their sweaty faces and Hermione clutching at the stitch in her side.

But Harry's eyes were roving over the other students, all of whom still appeared too uncomfortable to meet his gaze.

He'd almost forgotten about the Grim.

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'Inside now, come on,' Minerva chivvied the children, widening her hold on the door as they filed past her. When at last Neville Longbottom had sidled through, she shut the entrance with a sharp click and walked over to face them across her desk.

'I do hope,' she began, 'That you have not been idle over the summer. Third year Transfiguration will test your abilities far more than the introductory syllabi covered in first and second forms. We will spend far less time reviewing the remedial, and you will be expected to come to each lesson with a working understanding of the theory. Anyone who comes to the lesson without completing the assignment will be dismissed forthwith, and required to present his or herself for detention with a two-foot essay on the topic the following evening. You should all know, by now, that I will not tolerate slacking off in these lessons. From this point forward, idleness could not only lose your House points or earn you a detention; it could actually prove quite dangerous to you and your fellow students. I expect that you will all, therefore, approach the topics we will discuss this term with the appropriate sense of gravity and respect. Am I clear?'

She waited for the students to nod. They all did, although she couldn't help but notice the class seemed rather distracted already. She intensified her gaze to emphasise the point, then pushed back the sleeves of her emerald robes.

'Now then,' Minerva continued, 'As you should all know from your summer reading, we shall begin the term with a study of animagi. Who can tell me what an animagus is?'

Several hands shot into the air; Hermione's first, followed closely by Harry's. She pointed instead at Dean Thomas, whose hand had remained on his table.

'Mr Thomas?' she asked pointedly over her square spectacles.

'Er –' he swallowed heavily.

'Did you write your summer essay?' Minerva inquired sternly.

'Er – yes, ma'am' he assured her.

'Then you ought to know the answer.'

'Er… an animagus is a wizard, professor, or a witch, who can transform into an animal at will?'

'Precisely,' the professor said with a brisk nod. 'Five points. And next time, Thomas, do try not to phrase your sentence as a question. Ms Patil, is the animagus transformation a wanded or wandless magic?'

Parvati jumped a bit. 'Wandless,' she answered after a moment. 'The transformation doesn't use a spell at all.'

'Correct,' Minerva said with a nod. 'Another five points to Gryffindor.'

There were no answering smiles. Instead, the brief moments of rapt attention her opening lecture had instilled seemed to have faded, and most of the class looked thoroughly depressed. Minerva frowned. Without warning, she lunged forward at the lot of them, transforming mid-flight into her tabby cat. There were a few predictable gasps as she made the change.

Harry jumped violently as she landed on his work table. She cocked her head at him, sniffing, then leapt into the air once more and shifted back. Harry was still staring at the spot she'd landed with a frightened expression. Most of the rest of the class were watching him. Minerva frowned more deeply. Harry had seen her transform dozens of times before… she did not see what could have prompted such a violent response.

'Really,' she said primly, glaring around the room at the class at large. 'What has got into you all today? It's only the first day of lessons, surely you are not so inundated with coursework as to render yourselves this listless already?'

'Please, professor,' Hermione Granger piped up, hand in the air. 'It's… it's not that. It's only, in Divination this morning…' she broke off, shooting an anxious look at Harry. Minerva's jaw clenched harder at the sight.

'There is no need for further explanation,' she said curtly. 'I understand perfectly. Tell me, which of you is facing imminent death?'

The class stared back at her in shock.

'Me,' Harry said forlornly.

Minerva studied his face for a moment, feeling a tumult of anger fighting concern within her. She longed to stride straight up to that ridiculous woman's chambers and hex her into nonbeing for her callousness…

But a sea of anxious young faces were still staring back at her, waiting for some kind of reassurance. So she schooled her expression.

'Indeed,' she said in her primmest voice. 'In that case, Mr Potter, you ought to know – all of you ought to know,' she amended, glancing around at the rest of the class as well, 'That Sybill Trelawney has predicted the death of one student per year ever since she began teaching at Hogwarts. To the best of my knowledge, not a one of them has managed to die to date. Death omens are a particular favourite of the… professor… and I am afraid she has taken to seeing them in every room she enters.' She felt her nostrils flare. 'I do not speak ill of my colleagues, as a general rule,' Minerva added, 'But I will say this. Professor Trelawney is, perhaps, a little overzealous in her teaching methods. And I should not put particular confidence in anything she might tell you.'

'And Divination,' she continued in a huff, sweeping back toward her desk, 'is notoriously unpredictable. Only fools set store by prophecy. And I will not have fools in my classroom or my House.'

The class shifted uncomfortably, still darting odd looks toward Harry's table. Hermione Granger sat up even more rigidly in her chair.

'Now,' the professor said, turning to look at them all over her own desk and giving them half a smile of encouragement, 'Who can tell me the process of Ministry registration for those wishing to become animagi?'

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'All I am saying, Albus,' Severus growled from a worktable as he sent four drops of syrup of hellebore into the cauldron, 'is that the students are bound to notice on their own. Particularly the older students, who have had some instruction in recognising the signs.'

'Not necessarily,' the headmaster disagreed lightly. He was perched on the end of Severus' own desk, sucking on one of those infernal sweets and spinning a little phial he'd found beside him round and round in his fingers absentmindedly.

'That is a sample of Erumpent Exploding Fluid,' he pointed out, watching the headmaster spin the phial.

'So it is,' Albus agreed.

Severus glared. 'If you were to slip, the power in that sample would be enough to blow this room apart; possibly even kill the both of us.'

Albus smiled. 'Then I ought to be very careful not to drop it,' he said seriously, pinning Severus with his ice blue stare. 'After all, we cannot know what monumental disaster might occur, were we to become careless in handling delicate things.'

Albus set the little phial aside again, onto the enchanted cloth he'd pulled it from. Severus waited to see it safely laid down, then pushed back from his brew with his arms crossed.

'Is that supposed to be one of your metaphorical lessons, headmaster?' he challenged spitefully. 'Handle the wolf like I would an explosive Class B tradable potions ingredient? The only explosion that could come from this disaster of a situation is that he maims a student at the next cycle of the moon!'

'Remus is not unaware of the dangers of his condition, Severus,' said the headmaster soothingly. 'And he takes the appropriate precautions. We have nothing to be worried a-'

'Of course there is something to worry about!' Severus interrupted. 'What if he misses a dose of the Wolfsbane, Albus? What if he takes a potion that counters its ingredients, even if by mistake? What if he shares information with an old friend, and that –'

'Remus is not in contact with Sirius Black, Severus,' Albus said firmly. And, for the first time, he sounded stern. 'I have addressed these concerns with you before. And I do not wish to revisit the subject.'

Severus spun away angrily, sending the soiled pestle and mortar to the basin with a touch more force then he'd meant to. He heard an ominous crack as the stone met the metal.

'You are entirely too trusting, headmaster,' he warned in a low voice.

It was a dangerous accusation, Severus knew. He was fully aware that without Dumbledore's trust, he himself would have spent the last decade rotting in a cell next to Black's on that forsaken island. For a moment, he expected that Albus would say as much. But, to his surprise, the headmaster sighed, pushing himself off the edge of the desk and looking at Severus with a mournful, almost pitying expression.

'On the contrary, Severus,' he said quietly. 'I often feel I am nowhere near trusting enough.'

Severus opened his mouth to reply, but at that moment they were interrupted by a sharp knock at the door. Both wizards turned to consider the wood.

'Severus?' Minerva's voice called from the other side. She sounded decidedly rancorous. 'Is Albus there with you?'

'I am,' Albus replied curiously, and the door opened at once as Minerva stepped purposefully into the room. She shut it much harder than necessary.

'You are to talk to that woman at once,' she barked at the headmaster, ignoring Severus entirely.

Albus looked politely confused. 'What woman, Minnie?'

'Sybill,' Minerva clarified, crossing her arms. 'She is entirely out of line, Albus. She had my third years scared senseless this morning, going on about death omens and predicting Harry's death by end of term. This is hardly the first time, but I swear it will be the last. If you do not have words with her, I certainly shall.'

'Sybill has told Potter he will die?' Severus clarified. He meant it to sound derisive, but he thought he missed the mark. Just thinking of the Seer gave him indigestion wholly unrelated to her usual irritating qualities.

'Yes,' Minerva returned shortly. 'As she told Ms Sommers last autumn, and Mr Diggory the year before. I will not have it Albus. You must end this madness.'

'I will speak to Sybill, Minerva,' the headmaster assured her. 'And to Harry, though I take it you have already had words with him?'

Minerva huffed. 'I told them all to disregard anything she says,' she answered hotly. 'Though I doubt it will do much good… the Grim, honestly Albus…'

'Come,' he said, laying a hand on her shoulder and steering her toward the door. 'Let us head up to the Hall for luncheon. I promise I will speak with Professor Trelawney first thing this afternoon.'

Minerva continued to mutter darkly, but she allowed the headmaster to lead her from the room. Albus paused at the threshold.

'Are you coming, Severus?' he asked curiously.

'In – in a moment, headmaster,' Severus answered. 'I need to finish putting this brew under statis.'

Albus nodded, closing the door behind the two of them as Severus bent over as if to chop additional ingredients. But when the door had shut, he pushed the pile of valerian root aside without bothering to cut. He wasn't in the mindset.

The prophecy… that horrible night, that had started it all. He wished more than anything that he could unwind the clock; wished more than anything that he'd never been in the pub that night, never crept up the staircase… never heard…

Never sent Him after Her.

He wandered over to the shelves at the back of the classroom again, searching for that one precious jar. Shooting a quick nonverbal locking charm at the classroom door, he lifted it carefully from its shelf, taking it over to the desk. In moments, he was running his fingers over one of the long, beautiful strands of dark red hair. Even after so many years, it was still smooth and strong beneath his touch.

He hadn't seen her in over a year.

He'd known from the Prophet that she'd wed Potter… he'd drunk himself to oblivion the day the announcement came out. Potter, triumphant at last… taking forever the only thing Severus had ever had for his own; though she was hardly Severus' to claim any longer. If she had ever been.

That had been last June. It was February now.

Lily had just turned twenty. He had just turned twenty. They used to spend every January celebrating together, when they'd been young and untainted by the world. Counting the weeks between their birthdays as a sort of never-ending festivity. In another life.

What had she done this year, Severus wondered. Had she celebrated with Potter? Holed up in whatever grand house that primped-up, pure-blood prince hailed from? Opened lavish gifts and made merry into the night with Black and the wolf? Potter's garish ring on her slender finger… Potter's brutish form in her bed?

The Lily he knew – his Lily – never went in for such nonsense. Lily had been fascinated by the bloom of a springtime flower, the soft touch of kitten's fur. She'd loved the simple and wondrous beauty of the world; the gift of poetry or song, or an afternoon spent lying by the riverside. She found joy in the quiet and the understated. It was, after all, the only reason she'd stooped to speak to a boy from Spinner's End, in dirty tunics oversized enough to hide his bruises. She was gentle, and kind. She was sweet. She had temper… oh yes, but she was never cruel.

She was perfect.

Which is why Potter made no sense for her. Loud, boisterous, cacophonous… all the things that Lily wasn't. All the things his Lily eschewed. She used to be able to see that, when Severus had been there to help her. She used to understand its repulsiveness. But then everything had changed – shifted. Been destroyed.

He knew they'd come together in seventh year, even though he and Lily had been all but strangers then. How could he not? The entire school watched as James paraded her around like a prize he'd won at raffle; another trophy, to join the handful he'd collected on the quidditch pitch. He sang exaggerated ballads to her from tables in the Great Hall; he wore her scarf tied round his broomstick like a champion at the joust; he picked her up and spun her as they walked through Hogsmeade, the snow catching in her curtain of hair as she laughed, swept off her feet…

And everyone said how right it was. The beautiful and desirous Lily Evans, come at last to her senses; succumbing at last to Potter's charm and his wit and his perfect existence. And the other students oohed and the staff smiled indulgently – the Gryffindor golden couple; the Head Boy and Girl; Dumbledore and McGonagall's little protégés, who would fight for the righteous side of magic, defending the downtrodden and the Muggle-born in the great contest of Good and Evil. Gryffindors, to the very end. Brave. Shining.

But in his head… there were always two. His Lily – the girl he'd found bringing flowers to life, jumping off swings and soaring through the park; the girl who'd made magic real for him in a way so much deeper than he'd ever done for her… and Potter's Lily – the stranger who he just could not reconcile; could not stomach. Who was, forever, lost to him.

In many ways, Severus had thought he truly hated her. Hated her for her rejection. Hated her because, for all her nurturing, her goodness was nowhere near enough to save him from himself. And hated her, most of all, for marrying Him: for putting herself firmly, forever, out of his reach.

And then he saw her that February night.

It was a bitter fight, and not just because of the snow and wind that whipped at their faces and limbs like knives. It wasn't supposed to be. He was with a contingent of just six when they arrived just after midnight, with one mission – find and kill Silas Stravinich, a Daily Prophet reporter who had angered the Dark Lord in recent months. Stravinich lived alone in a little flat above a tea shop in a corner of Diagon Alley. He was just one man, and nearing ninety. He should not have been a challenge.

Of course, they had not been expecting the opposition.

She'd come bursting out of the shop at the head of an Order contingent, closely followed by Emmeline Vance, Frank Longbottom and two hulking figures Severus was pretty certain were the famed Prewett brothers, Gideon and Fabian. He was so stunned to see her that he faltered in his own defence, taking a cutting curse across the shoulder from the taller of the two Prewetts for his hesitancy.

But by Merlin, she was beautiful. Still. Her stream of deep red hair flew around her face, suggesting she'd apparated in too much of a hurry to secure it. Those arresting emerald eyes sang with fury and adrenaline, and a cold, terrible hatred that pierced his very soul. He'd seen that look before… the look that ended it all.

She didn't know she faced him now, of course. She could not see beneath his mask.

And if he didn't move, and soon, she might kill him.

Severus spun away as the second hex came from the familiar willow wand. He reappeared in moments farther down the street, engaging in battle with Longbottom instead. He did not care if he killed the auror… but he could not, he would not, touch her.

The others were not as bothered. He heard a mad cackle of laughter, as Bellatrix parried a stunner from Lily instead, shooting her own lethal curse back so quickly that Severus could watch the reflection in Lily's eyes as she dodged. He shook himself, trying to keep focus on the auror instead. He would lose his own battle if he wasn't…

The street was rent with a crackle like flames in the hearth, as a dozen others joined the fray. There were screams and summons on all sides as the newcomers threw themselves into the battle, Ministry wizards, Order members and more masked companions all among the arrivals.

'Lily, no!'

Severus heard the cry from his left; that horrible, smooth baritone that he despised so deeply. One of the newly-arrived Death Eaters had joined the fight against Longbottom, and Severus gave in to temptation, backing away from his own battle and casting a disillusionment charm over himself as he headed back toward Lily.

Bellatrix was occupied in combat with two Ministry witches now, cackling madly as she danced, dodged and struck. A snake among pixies. Potter had appeared amid the battle too, and even as Severus watched he caught hold of Lily, pushing her roughly back toward the row of shops and terrace houses and out of the line of fire. He spun again as two more people apparated in their midst, but relaxed as he realised they were friends. Lupin, the werewolf, and Sirius Black.

'James, you're not supposed to be out,' snared the wolf angrily, grabbing Potter in turn and yanking him back toward his wife. Severus saw the handsome wizard was paler than usual; a little unsteady on his feet.

'Did you apparate here?' the wolf demanded, searching him critically. 'You utter prat!'

James Potter made to answer, but Lily cut across him, her eyes blazing again as she turned a wrathful gaze on her husband. Severus, unseen behind his charm, crept closer, oblivious now to the raging of the fighting around them.

'James, I cannot believe you!' she snapped. 'Are you looking to get yourself killed?'

James fired up at once. 'Me, Lily?' he asked incredulously. 'What about you? You think I was going to sit by the fire and watch you dash off into Merlin knows what, when you're –'

'I'm perfectly capable of fighting, Jamie,' Lily said indignantly. She tossed her hair over her shoulder, in a gesture so familiar that Severus felt his heart ache again. 'For some months yet.'

'In your condition –' Potter began, but he broke off as a stray curse blasted the low beam directly over her head.

Lily screamed.

'Lily!'

Potter made to lunge for her, but he was far slower than Severus had ever seen him. Severus was half in a mind to move for Lily himself, when he saw Black and the wolf take her by an arm each, pulling her protectively behind them against the tattered entry to the shop. Lupin kept her shielded with his own body, volleying off a string of curses at the Death Eaters that had sent the beam down. Black, meanwhile, had his back to the battle. He was running a hand through Lily's hair, across her face, over her shoulders… as if making sure she was whole and intact. Brushing off the splinters of wood that had dusted her robes.

The sight of his hands on Her made Severus feel ill.

James Potter was separated from them now: slightly breathless, and leaning against the side of the shop. He looked dazed and concerned as he watched Black examine his wife. He hadn't even drawn his wand…

The moment was perfect. And it wasn't wrong… it wasn't as if he was striking Her…

James Potter was his enemy; he was an enemy of the Dark Lord… he was a danger; a threat. He had to be killed…

He stepped from the shadows at last, dropping his charm, his wand raised high…

'James!'

The bloodcurdling scream came from Her. Pleading, and panicked. She'd seen. She knew.

But he was already casting, already bringing down the wand, already forming the deadly words…

Lily had pulled herself from under Black's restraint. He'd probably loosed her himself, as he too was reaching toward Potter like his world was about to be destroyed. Potter hadn't moved.

But Lily dove at her husband, as if to wrestle him to the ground. And Potter shook out of his stupor at last, to catch her. Steadied her automatically; wouldn't let her take them down out of range. He didn't even realise…

Severus' heart contracted in horror, as he recognised what would happen; saw Lily in the spell's path. And he knew, in that instant, that he cared not whether this was his Lily or James'. It did not matter. In an instant, they would both be dead.

And he would die with her.

With a monumental effort, he jerked his wand arm up at the last moment, just as the curse was leaving him. It soared half a metre too high and shattered a window on the first floor. Shards of glass rained down on Lily's head instead of death. And he breathed again.

'You bastard!'

He barely had time to react as Black flung a blood-boiling hex his way, missing him by inches as he jerked aside.

And they were at it again, as if the last few minutes of relative inaction had never occurred. Severus shot furious spells at Black – and the wolf, who had joined him.

Someone came to partner him. Yaxley, maybe. It was hard to tell who your allies were, beneath these masks.

Then all four were blown aside, immobilised, as the tallest figure yet appeared silently in their midst. Severus felt one moment of deepest fear, sure that it was Dumbledore…

Then the figure turned, and he relaxed as gleaming red eyes swept the scene.

'Messy,' the Dark Lord observed, letting his gaze wander farther – taking in the raging battle and the blown apart street. 'I dislike messiness.'

There was no response. The Dark Lord did not expect one.

'It appears I shall have to do it myself,' he said in a high, cold voice. 'As I always seem to need to do, these days…'

A red beam of light flew at him. The Dark Lord dispelled it with a lazy flick of his hand, turning to see what fool had sent it. He gave a leering smile without a drop of amusement.

'Mr… Potter?' he guessed, eyes focusing on the Gryffindor. James Potter was looking anything but dazed now, his stance defiant as he stared the Dark Lord down. 'And, you've brought the mudblood,' the Dark Lord continued, gleaming eyes turning in Lily's direction. 'How… charming.'

Lily stepped forward to her husband's side, squeezing his hand briefly. Severus saw his own panic reflected in Potter's eyes.

'Go,' Potter hissed at her. It wasn't whispered. There was no point.

She drew her wand, ignoring his words.

The Dark Lord gave one high, cruel bark of laughter. It chilled Severus to his very soul. He knew the sound. The bell that tolled imminent death.

'How touching,' the Dark Lord mocked. 'Gryffindor bravery… foolish in the extreme, of course. But, admirable nonetheless. You will die together then, will you? A pity – I might have taken the pure-blood if he showed an ounce more sense.'

'I'd rather die,' Potter spat through gritted teeth. He kept his wand drawn and pointed at the Dark Lord, the fingers of his other hand white over Lily's.

'Well, it seems you shall get your wish,' the Dark Lord countered, stepping smoothly forward as he drew his own wand. 'But first, I shall teach you to show some proper respect. Crucio!'

Potter pulled Lily aside, both narrowly missing the curse. Lily shot her own spell back at the Dark Lord, who turned out of its path in silent disapparation. Potter vanished the pair of them farther up the street immediately, correctly anticipating the wizard's reappearance in their former place. It took only moments for the fighting to resume in force. Severus saw an Order member fall to his right. Several masked bodies were crumpled on the pavement too, while the remaining fighters paired off in furious battles up and down the alley. Still frozen, he considered it miraculous that neither he nor any of the others in their erstwhile tussle had been hit by opposing forces… something he might have been more grateful for, if his entire focus wasn't riveted on the central clash between the Dark Lord and the Potters.

Potter and Lily were holding their own, shockingly so. But the Dark Lord was not yet incensed. He was running out the clock at half-pace, watching with growing amusement as the couple grew exhausted with the battle, like a cat toying with a mouse. Severus knew the Dark Lord would become bored of his game eventually… and then, both would die.

And then Waterson fell, his mask blown backward off his face with the force of his impact with the street. Frank Longbottom gave a savage snarl of triumph, and shot his next curse straight at the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord turned to parry the third opponent, leaving just the smallest opening…

And Lily's spell grazed his left shoulder.

The Dark Lord roared in anger, sending a blinding flash of silver out from his wand like a wrathful Zeus. The street physically shuddered with the force of the spell, and everyone still standing was blown backward off their feet.

The binding spell held. Severus felt his heart pounding against his ribs as the Dark Lord examined the spot on his sleeve, where blood was pooling against the dark fabric. A slow trickle was running out the end of the arm, down pale fingers… dripping onto the cobblestones. Severus was vaguely surprised to see it scarlet.

'A mudblood with skill,' the Dark Lord whispered. The words were next to silent, but they still carried over the street as if he'd shouted them. Severus saw Potter pull Lily carefully to her feet again, keeping her shielded behind him…

'Or luck,' the Dark Lord said scathingly. 'An unusual combination, whatever the reason. But I am afraid, Lily Potter… yours is at an end. Avada –'

'Enough, Tom,' came a new voice. The Dark Lord stopped mid-curse, spinning to address it.

Albus Dumbledore stepped out of the ice cream parlour, terrible power radiating so strongly from his being that it would have dropped Severus to his knees, were he capable of movement. For the first time in his life, he was grateful for the sight of the headmaster.

'Dumbledore,' the Dark Lord greeted. His tone was mocking; dismissive. But Severus saw the long fingers tighten over his wand. Dumbledore was fingering his own almost absently, strolling across the battle-torn street as if he were merely crossing his Great Hall. As he approached, the cowardly among the masked figures vanished in successive pops.

'Your men flee, Tom,' Dumbledore pointed out, coming to a halt between the Dark Lord and the Potters. 'They, unlike you, can sense the end of the battle.'

'Cowards and fools,' the Dark Lord said dismissively, his wand still trained on the headmaster. 'They will pay for their spinelessness. Once I have finished with you.'

Dumbledore gave a wave of his right hand. At once, Lupin and Black were freed from their bonds. They rushed over to Lily and Potter at once, without a glace for Severus or Yaxley. Each taking one by the arm, the four of them vanished.

'It matters not,' the Dark Lord said, watching the foursome disappear. 'I will have them all eventually, Dumbledore. Surely you must realise that by now.'

'Ah, but again, I am afraid we must agree to disagree, Tom,' the headmaster answered lightly. Severus saw the remaining fighters on both sides vanish, as Dumbledore nodded solemnly at the watching Order members and at last drew his wand. 'I very much doubt we shall end this war tonight, but I am equally certain there will be no more bloodshed on these stones this evening.'

The Dark Lord gave a mirthless laugh. He fired the first hex. Dumbledore dispelled it easily, sending a counter back at the wizard without even a missed step. The Dark Lord was forced to apparate out of its path, coming to rest just inches from Severus' arm.

'You do not seek my death, Dumbledore?' he mocked, sending a lethal curse at the headmaster. 'Still above it, are you?'

'Oh no,' Dumbledore disagreed politely. 'No, Tom, I am afraid I must confess a weakness on that score. I do not think death a suitable penance for the crimes you have committed.'

The Dark Lord snarled again as he shot off a volley of hexes. For several long minutes, the battle grew darker, intensifying to terrifying heights. Severus heard thunder from above them as the street was rent with the storm of magic, neither wizard able to vanquish his opponent.

'This is fruitless, Tom,' the headmaster pointed out, as he dodged yet another Killing Curse.

The Dark Lord gave another cruel laugh of derision, but Severus could see uncertainty in his gleaming eyes. A moment later, he felt his own bonds release.

'Come!' the Dark Lord commanded suddenly, set just in front of Severus and Yaxley. And Severus, not wanting to find himself alone in the street with an angry Albus Dumbledore, turned on the spot at once.

'Severus,' the Dark Lord called from the sitting room, hours after their arrival back at the Manor. Severus pulled himself from the dining room chair at once, feeling his bones protest the movement violently. They had all suffered for hours as punishment for their humiliation in London.

'My Lord,' Severus said, bowing low as he entered the room. The Dark Lord was seated at the fire in a wingback chair, his scarlet gaze focusing intensely on Severus' face as the latter raised his head.

'Close the door,' the Dark Lord said. Severus obeyed at once. 'Come closer…'

He moved forward, keeping his head bowed. At the Dark Lord's gesture he took a seat on the edge of a lower chair. The arrangement meant he had to look up at the Dark Lord's gaze.

'How may I be of service, my Lord?' Severus asked.

The Dark Lord studied his fingers for a moment, twirling his wand between them. Severus eyed it with trepidation – wondering if more punishment was in store.

'I have been thinking on what you told me, Severus,' the Dark Lord said at last. 'Of what you heard in the Hog's Head last month. The events of this night have complicated the situation.'

'How – how so, my Lord?' Severus ventured.

The Dark Lord stood, and Severus fought the urge to cringe.

'I had thought,' the wizard began, 'That I knew the child to whom the prophecy would refer… there was only one woman I knew of newly pregnant in the Order; only one child who would be born in the summer, to parents who have escaped me three times.'

'Yes, my Lord,' Severus agreed, bowing his head. 'If the Longbottom child is a boy –'

'But that is no longer the case,' the Dark Lord interrupted him. He spun at the hearth. The glowing embers nearly matched his eyes as they bored into Severus'.

'There is another who could fit the description,' the Dark Lord clarified, his eyes still intense on Severus' face. 'Another woman. Another couple who have escaped me this night…'

And he knew. He knew before the Dark Lord even said the name. He had known it, really, from the moment he heard James Potter's terror… the sickening, tender way the wolf and Black had shunted her out of the line of fire…

'Lily Potter is expecting a son,' the Dark Lord finished in a long, low hiss.

And Severus ducked his head once more, broke away from those red eyes. And he willed his dinner to stay down; his heart to stomp its frantic pounding; his face to stop threatening a cold sweat. But most of all, he kept his eyes on the ground.

Before his Master could see the rise of panic and fear within his very soul.

'You know her,' the Dark Lord said, before Severus had controlled his inner panic. 'Lucius says you are the same age.'

'Y-yes,' Severus agreed, still speaking to the floor. He wondered, in a vaguely detached part of his brain, whether the Dark Lord had confided the prophecy to Lucius Malfoy. 'I was at Hogwarts with both Lily Potter and Alice Longbottom,' he confirmed. 'Though we were not of the same House, of course. But,' he swallowed, making his expression as neutral as he could before finally raising his head. 'But she is mudblood, my Lord, as you so rightly said,' he reminded his master. 'Surely the Longbottom child is the more likely candidate, given your own immense power and –'

'My power shall be greater than either child!' the Dark Lord snarled furiously.

'Of, of course, my Lord,' Severus agreed quickly. 'I did not mean to suggest –'

'The pure-blood seems a more likely candidate,' the Dark Lord agreed, fingering his wand again as he seemed to mull the problem over. 'But, we shall see. It is early days yet, and I do not wish the Order to suspect we are targeting either. There may yet be another to emerge. And there is little point before the child is born, at any rate. The date has been foretold. The question may answer itself. I shall… wait, for now.'

Severus felt the panic in his heart subside a fraction. 'Yes, my Lord,' he said, bowing his head again.

'But, Severus,' the Dark Lord continued, sinking into his chair again. 'In the meantime… I wish you to tell me what you know of Lily and James Potter.'

Several hours later, Severus took a risk. A new day was dawning, so deeply grey and stormy that there was hardly any change in the light. The manor was silent as he left it, ostensibly for his own home… but the alley was thunderous with the sounds of the storm. They hid his apparition perfectly.

Under a disillusionment charm again, Severus picked his way carefully through the wreckage. He was lucky the Ministry and the Order had not yet arrived to put the pieces back together. At last, he reached the spot where they'd all stood – where he'd nearly snuffed out Lily's life himself. His eyes traced the fallen beam, scanning the ground in desperation…

And then he spotted them.

Clinging to the bits of wood that Black had brushed off her last night onto the ground were several long, deep red hairs, floating on the edge of release in the stormy wind. Severus crouched down among the debris, detaching each one carefully from where it had caught and lifting them gently into a conjured jar. He found seven in all.

He did not know, precisely, why he felt the need to do this… what good he thought might come of saving these small bits of Her.

But he knew, somehow, that he must.

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Review Responses, Chapter 23:

Leonore: Thank you for your reviews! Glad to hear you are still enjoying the story so much, and I really appreciate your comments! To answer your queries… yes, we will definitely be seeing additional flashbacks and memories throughout the course of Part Two, including several scenes from the Marauders' time at Hogwarts (and after). I think it's important to recognise and explore that friendship – especially because it highlights the significance of Peter's ultimate betrayal. As to when Harry will master the patronus and whether that will be in time for the match (or, indeed, whether the events will occur as they did in POA with regards to the circumstances of the match itself)… I will remain silent for now. I hope you'll like the way that unfolds when we arrive.

As to your final additional question, you are the second person to ask me that (although I think the first query was by PM). I apologise to anyone who was confused, but 'speaking Welsh' is a colloquial phrase for 'vomiting' or 'sicking up.' It's not a very kind comparison in its origins, I'm afraid… it refers to the guttural, slightly throaty sound of the Welsh language. But over time it has become a rather common expression.

Enjoy Chapter 24!

MotherBear: Thank you for reviewing! Haha… I can see where you might expect Ron to have been a Death Eater in disguise, given Harry's recent history of harrowing contretemps… but, this time, things are a bit less deadly. Poor Sirius! I think reliving all these moments is certainly toying with his already perilous mental health, but hopefully when he has the chance to finally be heard, there can be some justice served. Glad to have been of service in distracting you, and I hope you enjoy the continuation of the story!

AECM: Thank you for your review and good wishes :). I'm glad you like the bits with Albus and Minerva, and will try to include some additional scenes between them in future. This particular book gets so far into the 'Marauder Legacy' ideas, it isn't always easy to fit in as much Albus and Minerva as I would like… but I'll do my best!

Valkyrie-Sythe: Thank you for reviewing! Happy to hear you are still enjoying the story, and glad the short interval between 22 and 23 was appreciated :). Enjoy the next instalment!

Anyeshabaner: Thanks for your review! I'm glad you liked Chapter 23 so much :). Sirius is definitely brewing up again for entry… so we'll see that play out soon. And I'm glad you liked the Severus dialogue – I feel like we're always seeing tension lately, so it felt like the right time for something a bit lighter. And sarcastic Snape is one of my favourite sides to pen. Yes, the 'darkness' is definitely starting to build… as with POA, the undercurrent in this book (which becomes even more obvious come GOF) is one of approaching war again. I think it saddens Albus greatly; certainly there are new parallels between the Marauder universe and Harry's. We're not quite at Voldemort's resurrection, of course, but the underlying knowledge of what must happen when that time comes preys on the headmaster's mind. It's funny, because I feel that Minerva and Albus sort of trade off with expressiveness; she's often the first to show it when she's in distress, but he is far more comfortable hinting at their connection in front of others – even Harry – than she is at times.

Estel Ashlee Snape: Thank you for reviewing! Yes, thirteen is an odd in-between age, I feel: too young to make most of your critical decisions on your own, but old enough to feel you are being coddled when the adults make them for you. Hopefully Harry will learn to navigate the balance. Glad you are liking the story and hope you'll enjoy the continuation!

Blue Luver5000: Thank you for your review! Very glad you liked this chapter and hope you will enjoy the next.

Emme: Thanks for reviewing! Happy to hear you liked Chapter 23 so much! The snarky dialogue was one of my favourite bits too. Also glad that you enjoyed the flashbacks – exploring the complex relationship between Pettigrew and Sirius, James and Remus, as well as the deterioration of that relationship, is one of my goals for this book and something I'm very excited about. And of course the First War, which is something we only get hints of in canon and leaves a lot of room for new material. I can definitely promise that we will see more of the Marauder generation at school (and after). As well as more of 31 October 1981 and its aftermath. Unravelling the complexities of what happened that night and immediately following Voldemort's downfall is something that is likely to take us through the end of my series… just when we think we know everything, they'll be new revelations!

Shadowhunter: Thank you for your review! Sorry to hear life has been so chaotic – I hope you have a chance at a rest soon! Although, sadly, if there's one thing I have learned in the past ten years, it is that life seems to only grow madder as you get older.

I'm glad you found the beginnings of the horcrux/information on Voldemort hunt interesting… it's something we will continue to witness and explore as Harry grows older and Voldemort grows stronger. And yes – there is definitely potential for some shake-ups in the trio dynamics this term; in part because of the new circumstances of the Time-Turner, of course, and in part because Harry's changed status and knowledge will affect others as well. Ron will not be happy when he finds he's been kept out of the loop on the time-jumping adventures.

Sirius's nightmares… certainly terrifying. And an interesting juxtaposition, as a lot of this story is about people dealing with their own demons. As for Snape… well, 'relationship' is an interesting word. He definitely has more interaction with Harry at this point than in canon, and there's a spark of respect mixed into Harry's previous loathing… maybe even into Snape's loathing of Harry. I don't think Harry realises that Snape is looking out for him or why, of course; but, naturally, that will have an effect on Ron and Hermione as well, as they are so often together. But, while amusing, I doubt we'll be having battle-planning tutorials with Snape any time soon!

As for the family – husband has backed off a bit, but he's still far more protective than his usual. I have developed a daily penchant for sticky toffee pudding, which James has obliged in providing. Sending him out for it is an excellent way to force him to work off some of the coddling desires. We're both newly-obsessed with feeling the babies move, which really is the most incredible sensation. It makes it so much more real: the knowledge that you're truly creating life. And terrifying – like we are responsible for these tiny creatures now and who in the heavens could have decided that was a good scheme?! Well over the half-way mark now, so I expect I'll begin full-on panic shortly after Christmas…

In any case, I hope things calm down for you and all my love of course! Enjoy this next instalment!

Blimey2310: Thank you for reviewing! I'm glad you are enjoying the stories thus far. I appreciate your comments on the characters and on Minerva in particular. I agree she can be slightly pushy; but to me it's not meant to be a Molly Weasley-type characterisation, but more of an integration of the portions of her personality that were explored more fully in the post-7 canon pieces, and of course a response to her changing relationship with Harry. We see more to her in this story than the second-in-command side that's prevalent in the original books. That said, I think you've made some good points and I'll keep them in mind as we move forward. On Sirius, your concerns are also noted and appreciated! I think you are correct that many would be disappointed if he were killed off… but I shan't make any promises. There will be deaths in the later portions of my re-telling, and I'm sure some of them will be beloved characters. However, I will say that I've grown quite attached to Sirius while writing and exploring his character, and I shall be heartbroken if that comes to an end.

Finally, thank you for the well wishes! About 15 weeks or so to go (twins come a bit earlier than single pregnancy babies), and I can't wait until it's over… but in the meantime I'll do my best to keep updating frequently!