"Mal!" Hermione clambered out of the carriage which had conveyed her from the train station to the front steps of Hogwarts and threw her arms around her friend. "Happy New Year! How were your holidays?"

"Pretty good, thanks." Draco returned the hug wholeheartedly. "Neville came and stayed for a few days, and Tonks was able to drop by and take us to Diagon Alley." He grinned across at Neville, who returned a somewhat stunned smile. "Worked out just like we wanted."

"Oh, did it? I'm so glad." Hermione beamed at Neville. "Were you surprised?"

"That you guys clubbed up and…" Neville shook his head, seemingly overwhelmed, and reached into his pocket, withdrawing a slender, shining wand. "It's too much. You shouldn't have."

"It's our money," said Hermione firmly. "And you're our friend, and we want you to learn magic the best way you possibly can."

"Besides, somebody left three Galleons on my bed the day before the holidays started, with a note saying it was for your fund," Draco added. "Probably one of the professors heard what we were planning, but didn't want to embarrass you."

"That was nice of them." Neville smiled more truly this time, and slid his new wand away again. "How were your holidays, Hermione?"

"Not as interesting as yours, it sounds like. I read a few new books, did some homework, and told my parents a lot about Hogwarts. They wanted to know everything." Hermione stroked Orion's head as he butted it against her hip. "Maybe Harry should think about publishing that story he's writing. If my dad and mum are any measure, people would eat it up!"

"We'd have to change the details, so we don't get Muggles walking into the Leaky Cauldron, but that might actually work." Draco glanced up at the castle, curtained by the falling snow. "Harry's decision, though. And speaking of Harry, did you get kind of an odd letter from him a couple days after Christmas?"

"Yes, I did." Hermione hoisted her bag a little higher on her shoulder. "He said he'd had the best Christmas ever, but his favorite presents hadn't come wrapped." She frowned. "What do you think that means?"

"I don't know." Draco motioned to the stairs. "Should we go inside and ask?"

With Neville and Orion at their heels, they ascended towards the great oak doors, which stood open to receive the returning students of Hogwarts.

"Fair warning," said Padma Patil, popping her head out as they reached the top of the stairs. "Somebody taught Peeves new songs over the holidays, and it doesn't sound like he'll be stopping any time soon."

"At least most of them aren't crude and disgusting this time," added Parvati from behind her sister. "Just irritating." She grimaced as a familiar off-key voice rose over the buzz of conversations. "Like that one."

Hermione, who'd been knocking the excess snow off her shoes, stopped in place as the words Peeves was singing reached her ears. Draco's eyes went wide, and Orion's tail began to wag, slowly at first, then faster and faster.

"Oh, I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves,
"Everybody's nerves, everybody's nerves,
"Oh, I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves
"And this is how it goes!"

Slowly Hermione lifted her eyes to the balcony which overlooked the entrance hall. A familiar figure with messy black hair, a tall one topped with red, and standing between them, bouncing in place—

Orion let out a joyous bark and bounded towards the marble staircase, threading between the students with a nimbleness which defied his bulk. Hermione followed at the best pace she could manage, hearing Draco and Neville just behind her, watching the red-coated blur speed up the stairs, round the corner, rear up on his hind legs—

"Hey!" protested the little girl who was receiving this boisterous greeting, laughing as she tried to fend off a broad and snuffling nose. "That's my ear!"

"All right, everyone?" said Harry as the rest of the group caught up with their canine forerunner. "This is Meghan. Her mum's an old friend of Professor Lupin's, they went to Hogwarts together, them and my parents. Meghan, these are our friends I was telling you about. Mal, Hermione, and Neville."

"Hi," said Meghan breathlessly, finally convincing Orion to set his paws on the floor once again, though his tail was whipping back and forth as he leaned against her side. "Nice to meet you all. We've been having a great time, Harry and Ron and I." She made a face. "I wish I could stay longer, but I'm not old enough to be a student yet, and Mom isn't a professor or anything official with the school, so we're not supposed to be here while classes are going on."

"Sort of stupid, really." Ron took hold of Orion's collar as the dog seemed about to rear up once more, allowing Meghan to offer handshakes to the new arrivals. "The castle's got loads of room. But I guess they figure you'd be a distraction or something."

"Not a big deal." Meghan waved this away airily. "We're not going far, just to a little bed and breakfast in Hogsmeade, so we can owl really easily if we want to stay in touch. And maybe people can come visit over Easter, if we have a house by then."

"You're from overseas, right?" Draco hadn't stopped smiling since he'd set eyes on Meghan, an expression Hermione could feel echoed on her own face. "From America?"

"That's right." Meghan twirled in place. "But now we're going to live here." Planting both feet on the floor again, she looked at Hermione. "Your last name's Granger, isn't it?" she asked.

"Y-yes." Hermione told her voice firmly that it was not allowed to keep quivering in this ridiculous manner. "Why?"

"Because my mom was hoping to talk to you before we leave, if that's okay." Meghan held out her hand. "Do you have time now? Or did you want to go to your dorm first?"

Hermione took a deep breath, trying to still her nerves. She knew who this girl's mother was, and who she might have been, and the most likely topic of their conversation would not be a comfortable one.

But putting it off won't make it any better.

"Let's go now," she said.

"You said her mum knew your parents, Harry?" asked Neville, watching as Meghan and Hermione walked away together, Meghan chattering a mile a minute, Hermione nodding with an abstracted look. "Was that during the war?"

"Yeah. She knew yours too. And Ron's uncles, on his mum's side." Harry grinned briefly. "She's got pictures. If you send her an owl, she said she'd be happy to share."

"What's her name?" asked Draco, his hand resting against his pocket. "Meghan's mum, I mean. We know Meghan's name already."

"Aletha Freeman. Healer Freeman, technically, but she said I could call her Letha, so…" Harry shrugged, still smiling. "It's been great to meet her. She knows loads of stories. Stuff I always wished I could find out, and now I can."

Ron was frowning. "Wasn't there something…" he muttered, then snapped the fingers of his free hand. "Right, that's it. Professor Lupin wanted to see you and Orion when you got in, Mal. And you and Trevor, Neville. There's some kind of disease going around in animals, and they're checking everybody's pets to be sure they're not bringing it back to Hogwarts."

"Why don't we do that now, then?" Draco patted his leg, and Orion came to his side once Ron had released his collar. "If he's sick, I want him to get treated right away. And if he's not, then we can stay out of the way of everyone else until they get cleared."

"Besides, you can talk to Professor Lupin about…" Neville waggled his fingers shapelessly, but Draco nodded in understanding.

Ron's frown deepened as he watched the pair walk away, headed for the nearest staircase. "Is it just me, or is everyone being mysterious today?" he asked.

"I think it's just you." Harry leaned over the railing to wave hello to Seamus Finnigan. "Remind me to give Seamus back his chessmen when we get to the dorm, would you?"

"Good news, Longbottom," said Professor Lupin, passing Trevor back to his owner. "You have a fine healthy toad. And now, for this monstrosity." He clicked his tongue at Orion, who padded obediently to his side. "Wait here, Malfoy," he instructed Draco. "This should only take a minute or two."

Draco leaned against the wall as Professor Lupin led Orion into his office and closed the door. "You go on," he said to Neville. "There's no reason you should have to wait on me."

"If you say so." Neville started down the hall. "See you at dinner, if not sooner."

"Sounds good." Draco watched his friend around the corner, then returned his attention to Professor Lupin's closed door. Nothing seemed to be happening within, but possibly the diagnostic spell was nonverbal, or needed something to be set up first. Closing his eyes, he let a grin break across his face, one which wouldn't have looked out of place on his alter ego (a theory he'd occasionally tested in front of a mirror, whenever he had sufficient time for it).

Meghan and Tonks. Now there's a meeting I can't wait to see. Dora and Pearl cause fireworks whenever they're together, so the real versions of them should be just as good, if not better. And Meghan's mum…wonder if I can get away with calling her Cousin Letha? Technically we're not related, but I think she'd like it. As long as Father never finds out.

He laid his hand against his pocket. Of course, you could say that about a lot of things this holiday.

Professor Lupin's voice was rising and falling within the office now, but it didn't sound quite right for spell incantations.

So maybe he has an enchanted item, one you have to ask questions. Draco nodded, recalling a talking wall chart in the office of the Healer who'd treated his childhood bumps and bruises. That would make sense, if they need to check over everyone's pets. Who wants to do the same spell a couple hundred times in a row?

The door opened, and Professor Lupin stepped aside as Orion trotted out. "He's healthy," the professor reported, drying his face with his handkerchief. "For which I'm grateful, since he also seems a little more friendly than usual."

"Sorry about that, sir." Draco swatted the dog lightly on the top of the head. "He was really happy to meet Harry's new friend Meghan." He glanced up at Professor Lupin. "So was I."

"Do you know, I thought you might be." Professor Lupin smiled, sliding his handkerchief away. "Was there anything else?"

"Actually…yes." Nerving himself up, Draco set his feet and met Lupin's eyes squarely. "Is there any way I can see the Headmaster? Tonight?"

"We probably shouldn't have been where we were, sir," said Draco Malfoy, lowering his eyes for a moment before raising them again to meet Dumbledore's. "But it was the first time I'd had one of my own friends over to stay, and I was excited. I wanted to show him something special. Something most people's houses don't have. And while we were there, we found…" He slid a cloth bag across Dumbledore's desk. "This."

"This," repeated Dumbledore musingly, undoing the knot at the top of the bag. "And 'this' is…"

"I'm not sure, sir." Gray eyes widened, projecting an air of innocence. "But Neville jumped away from it as soon as he'd touched it. He said it felt powerful, and dangerous. Like it wanted to hurt him."

"I see." Dumbledore regarded the small black diary which lay quiescent on his desk. "Mr. Malfoy, thank you for bringing this to my attention. I believe you and Mr. Longbottom, between you, have done something very important."

"Thank you, sir." A small smile blossomed on Draco's face. "I'll let Neville know. Privately."

"Yes. Please do that." Dumbledore glanced up at one of the clocks on the wall. "And now, you had best hurry down to the Great Hall. Not that you would be in any danger of missing your dinner if you dawdled, but the house-elves' work is best appreciated while it is fresh and hot."

"Yes, sir." Draco started for the door, then paused. "Thank you for listening, sir," he said quietly. "For not just sending me away because of…who I am."

"I have long believed in judging others by their choices, rather than their affiliations." Sweeping the diary back into its bag with his wand, Dumbledore knotted the bag's top once more and levitated it into a spot on one of his bookshelves. "It has seldom led me wrong."

And today, it may have handed me a vital piece in my ongoing fight to keep my students, and my world, free from harm.

When the small blue box on his desk stopped vibrating, indicating that the gargoyle at the base of the revolving staircase had returned to its post, Dumbledore turned halfway around and swished his wand through a careful curve, bringing a shallow stone basin from its place on the shelf to land neatly on the desk. Closing his eyes, he willed his mind to drift away into dreams.

Tonight was not the first time he had seen this diary.

XxXxX

My dear friend,

Have you told your younger child lately that you are proud of him?

If not, I suggest that you do so at once.

Yours,

Albus

"And just what have you been up to, young man?" demanded Gigi Reynolds, wagging a finger at her son mock-angrily. "When the Headmaster of Hogwarts sends me a note, specifically asking me to tell you that I'm proud of you?"

"I didn't do anything," began Mal automatically, then stopped, frowning. "Wait. Proud of me?"

"I am, you know." Gigi smiled, beckoning her boy closer so that she could unknot a tangle in his brown waves. "But this sounds like something specific, and recent. Any thoughts?"

"No, I don't…" Mal trailed off, his eyes abstracted. "Maybe," he said. "But it isn't exactly me." He grinned a little sheepishly. "My alter ego was a bad boy over the holidays. He remembered that story we heard from Neville a while back, about that dangerous thing his dad found in the hiding place at Malfoy Manor, and he started wondering. In a world where Lucius never got arrested, wouldn't that thing still be there? And wouldn't it still be dangerous?"

"And couldn't Neville find it there, as easily as Frank ever did?" Gigi laughed softly. "Yes, yes, and yes. If I had to take a guess, that is."

"You'd be right." Mal waggled his fingers, his grin growing broader. "And the best part is, Lucius'll never even suspect. Not unless he looks super closely, and why would he? As far as he knows, the only other person who can get into that cache is a tiny copy of him…"

He paused, looking down at his hands with the scattering of fine brown hair across their backs, nails slightly ragged at the edges. "Mom?" he said softly. "Could I ever change back? Look the way I did when I was a baby? Not because I want to," he added hastily. "I just want to know. If it could happen. If it's possible."

"Well, we'd have to ask your aunt. She's the Healer, after all." Gigi laid her own hand against her son's. "If I had to guess, though, I'd say it might be reversible, if that was what you wanted. We certainly didn't put any locks or bindings on it."

"But why only do a blood spell on me?" Mal turned his hand over to close his fingers around his mom's. "I know Henry and Uncle Ry use Long-Last Glamours, and Aunt Thea and Dad don't even bother with that. Just the Don't-Know-Me Charm, same as Cousin Cecy, so people won't recognize them if they're not supposed to."

"Because you, my very dear, had relations who might be able to use their own blood to hunt for you." Gigi leveled an unamused look at her son. "And if you remember that conversation your aunt overheard in Hogsmeade, one of them has been doing so for some time. So unless you would rather go home with Abraxas Malfoy—" Mal's frantic headshaking brought a smile to her face once more. "That's what I thought. Any other questions?"

"Just one." All trace of humor vanished from Mal's face and voice. "Mom…are you real? In the gray world, I mean? Just about everyone else is. I knew about Dora for years, and Luna, and then Henry in Diagon Alley. And we met Jeanie and our other friends on the train, and Dad after we'd been at school a little bit. Now Aunt Thea and Pearl are there, and we know about Uncle Ryan even if it isn't good news, but nobody seems to have any idea where you are. I even heard…" He trailed off, stone-gray eyes fixed on her, filled with equal parts hope and fear.

"Right here and now, my love, I'm as real as you are." Gigi cupped Mal's face gently with her free hand. "Everything else will sort itself out in time. And just remember." For one instant, her brown eyes sparkled with mischief. "Even the cleverest people don't always know everything."

XxXxX

"So, Hermione." Healer Freeman poured Hermione a cup of tea, then one for herself. "I've heard a bit about you from Harry, but I'd like to know more, if I could. Your parents are both dentists, correct?"

"That's right." Hermione nodded. "They've had an office together since before I was born."

"And their names are?"

"David and Rose Granger." Picking up the teacup, Hermione gazed into its brown depths, smiling a little at the wobbly reflection she could see in its surface. "Daddy said he wanted to give me a lovely, special name, since his and Mum's were both so plain and ordinary."

"I'm sure he did." Healer Freeman took a sip of her own tea, then set it down and drew her wand, swirling it towards the half-open suitcase which sat against one wall. A framed picture emerged from it and floated across the room, landing in the Healer's outstretched hand. "Hermione, I'd like to show you something. But I think I should warn you that it might be a bit upsetting to you. Is that all right?"

Hermione drew a deep breath, then leaned forward and set her teacup down. "Yes," she said simply. "Please show me."

Healer Freeman turned the frame around, holding it so that Hermione could see the photograph inside.

Frozen in time, two girls stood beneath a broad-leafed tree in the height of summer, arms around each other's shoulders, laughing out at the world. One could have been Meghan, except for her warm brown eyes. The other—

"The girl in this picture is named Gertrude Granger," said Healer Freeman softly. "She was one of my dearest friends when I was young. Unfortunately, she moved away from our neighborhood while I was in my first year at Hogwarts." She smiled slightly. "Her parents, David and Rose, had the opportunity to take over a dental practice in another city."

"But…" Hermione pressed her hands against her mouth, staring at the photograph, at the girl who could almost have been her. "But my mother said…"

"I know. And that alarms me more than a little." Healer Freeman set the photo down. "Especially given a certain story we both know." Her eyes went momentarily cold and hard. "I can tell you that sometimes, during the war, drastic decisions were made regarding the memories of Muggles who'd had family members harmed by magic. It was usually justified by the continuing need for secrecy, or the argument that remembering something so terrible would only hurt them more."

"But that's awful." Hermione's hands clenched tight. "People deserve to know what's really happened in their lives. Even if they couldn't keep their memories of magic, someone could have come up with a different way that she died, a gas leak or a car crash or—or something! Not just…" She swiped one hand through the air. "Erase her, like she never existed at all!"

"No arguments here." Healer Freeman picked up her tea once more. "It was all the more unsettling to me, because I'd selfishly assumed that my friend had found the happiness I'd been denied." She flexed the fingers of her left hand. "When Remus brought up your name, I was positive he was going to tell me that he knew you because he'd married your sister. Instead it turns out he's your professor."

"He's good at it." Hermione seized gratefully on this new topic. "Teaching, I mean. He takes the time to help everyone understand, and his lessons are always fun. Not that I need classes to be fun, we're here to learn, not to play, but sometimes it's easier to learn if it's not boring at the same time, and—" She cut herself off as she saw a familiar smile come to Healer Freeman's lips. "Am I letting my nerves run away with me again?" she asked, smiling a bit herself.

"It's a hard habit to break. You'll get there." Healer Freeman took a drink from her teacup. "But there is one thing I have to mention. One more aspect to this story." Her tone was harsh and dry, as if she didn't want to say what she was about to. "Extreme measures with Memory Charms were almost exclusively undertaken when the Death Eaters' victim survived. A security precaution, or so we were told, to keep vulnerable Muggle families from welcoming impostors, disguised as their miraculously recovered loved ones."

The room seemed to twist around Hermione, and she heard a momentary roaring in her ears. She flattened her hands against the arms of her chair and breathed deeply until it passed. "Are you saying…" she whispered.

"I'm saying it seems most likely to me that Gertrude Granger was found alive." Healer Freeman tipped her teacup back and forth. "What became of her after that, we don't yet know." She looked up and met Hermione's eyes, her own direct and fierce. "But we will find out."

"Yes." Hermione nodded firmly. "Yes, we will."

And maybe, just maybe, I won't have to choose after all.

"Malfoy!"

The hoarse voice brought Draco's head around as he stepped out of the Great Hall with Neville and Orion beside him. Gregory Goyle was standing at the top of the dungeon stairs, his big fists clenched by his side. "Your stupid cousin," he spat angrily, "got my dad arrested!"

"No, your dad got his stupid self arrested." Draco stared down his nose at the broad-shouldered Slytherin. "Running around in Death Eater robes, doing magic in front of Muggles, doing magic on Muggles. All of that's illegal, in case you hadn't noticed. And when you do illegal things, and Aurors catch you doing them, you get arrested. That's their job."

"It's a stupid job." Goyle stormed forward, his fists rising into attacking position. Draco prepared himself to dodge as Orion growled low in his throat. "Your cousin's stupid for doing it. Your dad's stupid for not stopping it. And you're stupid for—"

"Locomotor Mortis!" shouted a different voice.

Goyle's legs snapped together mid-step, and he toppled over with a yell of shock, which was cut off as his forehead crashed into the flagstones of the entrance hall.

"Oh." Neville looked from his wand to Goyle's motionless form and back again. "So that's how it's supposed to work."

Orion crooned a soft, admiring howl.

Dear Ginny,

How was Romania? Did you get to see a dragon hatch? I heard about your dad and the plugs. That sounds like it'll be funny sometime, once it gets done being embarrassing.

I had a really great Christmas. An old friend of my mum's came to visit from America, with her daughter. Meghan is nine, so she'll be a year behind you at Hogwarts, and her mum knows a ton of stories about my parents. It was amazing getting to meet them.

The latest bit of my story is enclosed. I hope you don't mind, but I left your present out of it. Ron doesn't even know we've been writing each other, so he'd be confused if I suddenly had a bit in my story about getting a Christmas gift from you! (Thanks for it, though. I really like it.) I changed around a couple of my presents to fit story-me better, but the bit about the last one I opened is true. We've already got plans for what we're doing with it next.

Classes start again tomorrow. Fred and George told us the teachers start piling on the homework after Christmas, so we've got that to look forward to. Write back soon, would you? It always makes me smile when I see an owl headed down towards me at breakfast.

From

'Henry'

P.S. Only nine more months until we won't have to write letters anymore!

Dear friend,

How was your Christmas? I know you had mentioned going to Wales with your father to try to get photographs of the different dances the fairies have for the holidays, so I hope that went well. I did a couple of exciting things, but I probably shouldn't talk about them in a letter, so it will have to wait until we meet face to face.

I made a new friend when I got back to Hogwarts. Her name is Meghan, and she's nine. My mother and her father were cousins, so that makes her my cousin too, just a little farther distant. Second cousins is what you call it, I think. In any case, she's really fun to have around. Her mum is a Healer, and she's going to help my friend Hermione look into a mystery from the past.

I never told you this before, but I used to think you were just playing a game, or trying to make me feel good, by saying you remembered meeting me in your dreams. I'm sorry I doubted you. I hope you can forgive me.

Lastly, have you made any progress on the question I asked you? Even if you haven't, I'd appreciate knowing that.

I await your letter.

Your friend,

Mal

(written by DictaQuill)

To: Professor Remus Lupin, which we all knew would happen someday but it still looks weird written down

Thanks for the information, though I'll stay as I am for the time being. Just to be safe.

In regards to your questions:

No. Haven't had a chance, since I don't know the Gryffindor password.

No. By the time I realized he was here, he was already hiding.

No. I don't want them acting differently around me.

And, finally, no. Do you?

From: A Friend

P.S. You're not as funny as you think you are.

P.P.S. I'm sure I've lasted longer than forty-five seconds at some point…

(A/N: Yes, that last letter was meant to be a little bit mysterious. We'll know specifically what questions were asked at a later point. For further information about lasting longer than forty-five seconds, see the opening scene of chapter 14.

I've been poking at the outline for this story, and it might go a little over fifty chapters, but not by much. Just have to wait and see. However, I do have titles for the last two chapters, whatever numbers they turn out to be: "Every New Beginning" and "Who Can Say?" I will also say that if my current outline holds true, chapters 35, 40, and 42 will all contain happenings that should make a great many people happy, and chapters 37 and 38 will answer a lot of questions you've all had. Register your guesses now!

A quick reminder that just because the characters say or think something, it's not necessarily true. Just like you, O readers, they are working from limited information, and that can cause them to draw inaccurate conclusions. Keep speculating, though! I love seeing what you think, want, hope for, and believe!)