Charmed Curses

by Lady Geuna

What if James Potter wasn't killed on Halloween, 1981? Voldemort devised the perfect punishment for his insolence. A curse that would cause James more pain than the Cruciatus Curse could ever. Harry. James. Marauders, Snape, etc...

28. Epilogue: Closure Part 1 of 3

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Disclaimers and Notes: Good Gad, you get it by now!

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Dear Readers,

Okay, a new change. I will comment to reviews (hopefully), but only for the final chapter (when it comes next time). I know, I know, that's cheap, however looking at all the reviews I received from the last part alone realized that commenting effectively to all of them would be impossible given the time that I have. I have no idea how long it'll take to get to everyone, but… Oh, geez, I have no idea! TT I have no idea what I've gotten myself into! Just like I didn't know what I got myself into when I started WRITING this fic.

Anyways...

Long time no see, obviously. I'm finally getting to this after a long trial of college exams, house cleaning, work, and NO TIME! I haven't been able to write anything due to the fact that I haven't been able to sit at a computer and really think about fanfiction. Other things came first, sorry to say. Also, I'm working off a floppy disk so that I can travel with the story, to write it from place to place. I hardly come across a computer these days that has both a floppy drive AND the internet all in one. It's become a PAIN! Not to mention the last time I used a laptop, the system had a fatal error and had to delete the fic that I was writing at the time (and that had been this chapter... go figure).

But, enough of my whining! I did make a vow to myself to complete this story, even if it kills me. And finish it I shall.

I hope you like the next installment of "Charmed Curses", which is one step closer to the somewhat surprising conclusion…

BTW, just saw "Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban." It rocks!

Thanks to everyone who reviewed for me over the last few months. Those who reviewed are as follows...

Geuna

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NOTE: This, again, has names and… "things" from Order of the Phoenix. The facts that I use aren't as nice and 'crisp' as I'd like them to be (or how they used to be) because I left the book... somewhere... where I can't get to it. So I have names (thanks to the Harry Potter Lexicon online), but can't remember much more! TT

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Author: Lady Geuna

Sub Editor for this chapter: Kat Ishida (a.k.a. Kitty-chan)

This Chapter Rated: PG-13--for the usual scariness, some language in part of the story, and perhaps some language in part of the authoress as well.

Recent Summary: Everything is drawing to a close. Sirius Black is free under court of law after his second official trial while Remus Lupin is recuperating after a near fatal incident with silver. Everyone else is slowly getting used to how suddenly "calm" life has become. With things going back to "normal," some often miss the fact that there are still many loose ends to be tied up, especially where the Potter's are concerned...

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"..." - speech

'...' - thoughts

/.../ - with italics means a part of a flashback.

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Epilogue: "Closure" Part 1 of 3

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"Does it drive you mad? The way they keep on staring at you like that? It never stops, you know, not even if you tell it to their faces."

Harry Potter to James Potter, Fanfiction "Charmed Curses", The Trail: Part 3: The Truth, by Lady Geuna

"Well, we won, naturally." He held up his arms, the sleeves of his rather loose, tattered black shirt falling down just enough to show his pale, bare wrists. "No chains, obviously. You're free to go, I'm free to go… We're all free to go! I think I deserve a small parade when we get back to Hogwarts, don't you think?"

Sirius Black to Remus J. Lupin, Fanfiction "Charmed Curses", The Trail: Part 3: The Truth, by Lady Geuna

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The day after the trial... (the next day)

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"Good evening, darling, it's wonderful to see you again."

"Indeed! And things are splendid here. Splendid!"

Mrs. Weasley smiled at her dear husband, unable to hind her happiness upon seeing his cheerful face. How long had it been now since they last had a chance to chat through the fire? It felt like ages! "So it's all over, is it, dear?"

Mr. Weasley nodded, his face positively glowing with cheer. The sight made her realize just how much she missed him, how much she missed having him home...

"Yes," Mr. Weasley said. "It's all over at last." He laughed, then said jokingly, "I thought for a while it would end badly!"

She hardly saw where it was his place to laugh about such matters, but went on to say, "I never imaged this would happen so fast! Only a few days ago Sirius was captured! I thought it would be the end of the poor man..."

"Hmpf! I believe the Ministry expected a swift and effortless conviction, but they got none of that, did they?"

"How is Sirius, now?"

"He's fine. He had a blast last night, I believe. Fred and George can tell you all about it, later."

Mr. Weasley let out a sigh of relief. "Oh, good," she said, though her tone became stern as she continued, "then maybe he can finally get some sleep. I remember at the last meeting the poor man couldn't calm his nerves one bit—and you tell those two sons on yours that Sirius' release is no excuse to be causing trouble! I received a letter just this morning for the Headmistress, and—"

"Aw, but 'e loved it, mom! I think it meant a lot to Sirius. After all, he'd had a rotten week—"

"RON!" Mrs. Weasley jumped a foot back from the fireplace, startled nearly out of her wits as she placed a hand on her chest. "Goodness gracious, dear, what are you doing there? You nearly stopped my heart!"

Ron's head appeared just beside his father's, tilted carefully to the side as though he wasn't sure if he was being seen or not. "I never knew you... knew Sirius. I mean, personality. And what's this about a 'meeting'?"

Mrs. Weasley sighed. Of course they hadn't told Ron about that quite yet. And they wouldn't. Not until he as a bit older... And at the very least not until he was graduated.

At that moment an arm wrapped itself around Mrs. Weasley's shoulders from behind and a chin rested on her shoulder. "Oh, I heard about last night as well," Bill Weasley spoke up jovially. "Ron, I bet you had a hand in it as well. You, alone with your brothers in that big school, it would be a small wonder if you ended up taking after them."

"Bill," Mrs. Weasley scolded.

"Hello there, Bill," Mr. Weasley laughed.

"You may have to be punished as well, Ronnie," Bill teased.

"What," Ron cried, completely forgetting his earlier comment about his parents knowing Sirius. "Bill—that's an outrage! I had no part in that at all! I didn't egg them on any, if anything—"

"Ronald Weasley," Mrs. Weasley said warningly, cutting him off with little effort. "And YOU, Arthur Weasley," Mr. Weasley instantly stopped laughing and donned a look of shock, "I'm holding you just as responsible for the trouble your boys are in right now. You helped as well, I'll bet! Don't think I'd forget that your Office confiscated a load of Muggle party toys, you told me about it yourself! No doubt the fireworks came from you. And I certainly hope Ginny had no part in any of it."

"Of—Of course not, Molly!"

"Now," Mrs. Weasley said, "I'll be needing this fire to make a stew!"

"Ah, wonderful," Mr. Weasley said, his cheerful air swiftly returning. "Goodbye for now, Molly. You too, Bill."

"You had better be back soon," Mrs. Weasley warned.

"See you soon," Bill laughed as his father and brother waved and called out their last farewells. Then at the same time the two heads disappeared...

The two stood there in silence for a moment before Bill gave his mother's shoulder a gentle squeeze and he lifted his head. Mrs. Weasley continued to stand there, now staring down at the apron she had clenched in her hands.

"I know what you're thinking," Bill said, "and I miss them, too. Though it isn't the first time either of them have been away for so long, remember that."

Of course this wasn't the first time... but so much had happened recently... How was she not to worry?

Giving a deep sigh, she set her hand on her hips and turned to look up at Bill with a half-serious, half-joking expression plastered on her face. "And how am I not to worry with a family full of troublesome boys, hm? I'm even beginning to worry about Ginny now." Shaking her head she took the apron in her hand and quickly slipped it over her head, tying it shut behind her as she walked over to a nearby cabinet to find a large pot. Though not too large, she would only be cooking for three this time...

Bill smirked at her comment, but in an instant all humor faded from his face. He muttered, "Too bad Percy didn't want to come and say hello to dad..."

Mrs. Weasley paused only for a moment as she lifted up a pot and carried it toward the fire. She didn't like her son's tone of voice, though at the same time she couldn't deny his words. "Come now, you know Percy hasn't been feeling well lately—"

"That's no excuse," Bill insisted with venom. "I don't know why you haven't tried talking to him. He's been acting downright cruel all of a sudden."

"Why must we speak about this now?"

"Because then it'll just keep getting ignored! Mom, you should hear how he talks about Dumbledore! And now he's got that letter from Fudge. 'Personal Assistant' indeed... I don't think he should take the offer, much less even consider it—"

"But he did," Mrs. Weasley finished quickly. "Percy needs time, that's all. He'll be fine, I'm sure. He'll turn around. He knows Fudge is no good, a terrible influence..." A warm, strong hand on her shoulder was her first warning before equally strong hands wrapped around her shoulders.

"Percy never likes being told what to do, mum... If he decides on something, he'll expect the rest of us to follow him. You know he blames Dumbledore for what nearly happened—"

"We're not going to discuss this here and now. What do you think he would do if he heard you talking just now, hm?"

Bill sighed, but didn't reply...

Outside, there came the faint, distant sound of feet crunching along the dirt path. Not long after she noticed the sound was there also the sound of feet stumbling. There was a shout, followed quickly by the sound of multiple objects hitting the ground. By the sound of it sound something had definitely broke...

A string of aggravated curses streamed in from outside.

"Oh dear," Mrs. Weasley said, though she hardly found the energy to put any concern into her tone, "That certainly has to be Charlie. You should go help him before he breaks anything else."

After a long paused, Bill silently nodded and (thankfully) did what was asked of him, turning and quickly going outside to help his brother clean up the mess he made.

Oh, she hoped things weren't as bad as they appeared to be...

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(NOTE: This brief, next part is inspired by an idea my dad actually had about Percy in the fifth book. I personally hope he's right...)

Just out of view at the top of the stairs, Percy sat with his back to the wall and on foot planted firmly against the opposite wall for banister. He could hear Charlie and Bill talking outside, and even the faint tinkling of broken glass being shoved around. He could hear his mother moving around cook wear, pots and pans banging together.

Percy frowned, thinking over what he'd heard just a minute ago...

His plan was obviously working so far. In a way he hadn't expected it to work so quickly... but it had. The seeds of doubt had been planted. They would never have a chance to figure out his plans, none of them.

Of course they didn't realize that Headmaster Albus Dumbledore had also sent him a letter as well as Cornelius Fudge.

By now Charlie had to agree with his logic...

/Flashback/

"I don't like it," Charlie said, and there was passion in his words. "I don't like what you're doing—it's stupid, Percy. You're smarter than this."

"Having Aurors on the inside isn't enough and you know it," Percy hissed, keep his voice low as he spoke. "You've got no one on the inside close to anything worth the attention, but being close to Fudge—"

"You mean being his lackey—"

"—I'll know whom he talks to," Percy continued casually, with an air of intelligence, plainly ignoring Charlie's comment, "what he says, where he goes in his off-hours. Honestly, Charlie, don't you see? It's brilliant!"

"It's madness," Charlie corrected between clinched teeth. "Dumbledore—"

"Dumbledore, that old fool, is right about something for once." He couldn't help but spit out those words. As much as Percy detested them, he had to admit it like a man. "You'd be good enough not to gloat."

Though Charlie didn't gloat. He didn't say anything at all, in fact...

When only silence followed, Percy added, "You all make sacrifices for Dumbledore everyday. And not just this family, either. Even if he's right, you know what he would allow us to give up for the "greater good"... Look at Snape for Merlin's sake!"

Still, Charlie said nothing.

Percy began to feel uneasy, being starred at like that. He sat sideways in his desk chair while Charlie watched him intensely. Charlie had managed to stay still and seated through the start of his explanation, but the elder Weasley obviously found it impossible to stop moving now. Even at that moment he was clinching and un-clinching his hands for no apparent reason.

"... Are you sure you don't want to tell anyone else...?"

Percy found himself staring off into space just past Charlie's left shoulder, towards his bedroom door. "I'm... No, I'm not telling anyone else. If they knew, especially mother, they would either disagree or give me away. I need them to believe that I've turned on them."

"And you decide to tell me," Charlie asked, sounding angry almost. "Why me?"

"To be honest," Percy replied, "I picked you at random."

Charlie snorted bitterly. "What a reason... Though why tell anyone at all. Wouldn't that 've been easier for you?"

It was Percy's turn to sound bitter, replying, "Because I needed someone to know... Because somehow... I don't think I can do it without someone knowing... And you swear you'll tell no one, Charlie? No one at all?"

"How long will this take?"

Percy felt annoyed at Charlie's lake of response, but answered his brother's question anyway. "I don't know. From what I understand, it may be a long time. Maybe not until this whole mess it over with."

Charlie's mouth was set in a deep frown... just before he took a step forward, leaned in, and embraced his younger brother in a tight hug.

Percy was too surprised at first to even return the gesture, but he slowly and cautiously did so.

"I promise," Charlie said quietly into his shoulder. "By Merlin, I promise." He pulled away, though held onto Percy's shoulders with an almost crushing grip. "But you have to promise, too, Percy. One day—and hopefully one day soon—you'd better come back to us..."

/End Flashback/

A part of Percy was bitter, and another part of him angry. He didn't want to believe the Dark Lord had returned. No. Deep down inside he still didn't believe, and would never believe until he saw more proof beyond the word of Harry Potter—a boy that Percy honestly considered at least halfway down the road to insanity.

But to him, this wasn't about the Dark Lord. Perhaps it wasn't even about the Ministry, either, or Dumbledore. He would never know which side was the right side until he saw it for himself. Doing this... this "mission", was a way of finding out for sure.

And depending on which side he would choose, he might never come back...

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"How are you doing now, Professor...?"

"I'm fine, of course, Neville. You know, I should be asking the same to you..."

"B-But after what happen before...!"

"Move aside I moment, please," Madame Pomfrey said, allowing herself access to Professor Lupin's left side. After all, the man had gone through a horrible ordeal. Only yesterday he was forced to grasp silver. Silver!

She "tisked" to herself as she carefully undid his bandages to give him a once over.

It was of no surprise to her that his whole arm up to his elbow was a particularly brilliant shade of teal. It was expected, considering the sort of potion that was necessary to heal someone like Lupin.

Oh dear, Mr. Longbottom looked ready to faint. "Mr. Longbottom, it's only the potion that's making it look blue, now breath, please. I won't have you fainting and hitting your head on the floor." Mr. Longbottom did as he was told, luckily, opening his mouth and sucking in the breath he had no idea he'd been holding.

Unfortunately, Professor Lupin looked just as pale and nervous upon viewing the bluish flesh as the boy had. "Are you sure, Madame," Lupin asked, his tone ringing with a note of panic. "I mean, it's not the potion I doubt entirely, however—ouch!"

Neville immediately hopped forward, brow knitted together in worry. "Are you alright, Professor?"

"Fine," Lupin said, flashing the boy a smile that was far too thin and tight to be really believable.

Pomfrey sighed, reaching into her pocket for a roll of gauze she had ready. "You're lucky you were treated when you were, Professor, or it could've been much worse. You know very well the blue will fad in a matter of time. The potion was a very good one, so I would have it another month I imagine, or perhaps a few weeks.

"A month?" Lupin let out a laugh that made him sound almost giddy as she began reapplying his bandages carefully. "I shall be blue for a month, will I? What ever shall I do, I will be so blue!" He almost instantly shut-up when Pomfrey sent him a sharp glare. "Really, Madame, just a little joke...? We must have a sense of humor with these things, right...?"

"Feel lucky you can still move your fingers."

The werewolf only nodded mutely.

The doors to the Hospital Wing opened then. Pomfrey was instantly alert, quickly (though efficiently) finishing with Lupin's bandages and turned to see who it was.

"Oh, it's you," she said, frowning at once.

Mr. Potter and his son walked toward them.

"You're looking well, Remus," Mr. James Potter said pleasantly to his friend after nodding in greeting to Pomfrey, being sure to show his respects. Well, at least his was being polite.

"It's horribly boring here," Lupin said, winking at Neville with a kind smile. "But Neville here decided to pay be a visit here earlier."

"There are too many people in here now," Pomfrey said instantly before Neville could say a word. "I won't have you disturbing my patient when he should be resting."

"Just give him a bit of chocolate," Mr. Harry Potter suggested with a grin.

"Yes," Lupin said, looking hopeful. "I bit of chocolate would do me right, now, wouldn't it? After all, I don't feel like nodding off at all."

Oh, why must everyone assume they know more about their own health than she did? Madame Pomfrey wasn't hired for this job for nothing, after all. "No chocolate, sir!"

Oh, wonderful. Now Lupin was looking devastated, and his guests were looking equally as disappointed.

Fine. If they wouldn't listen...

"You!" She pointed juttingly at the Potters and then toward a far corner of the room close to the door. "You two wait over there in the corner while I finish up with him." And they all did as they were told...

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James watched almost offhandedly as Remus and Neville had a small chat, the slightly chubby boy standing close by the werewolf's bedside, gripping onto the edge of the sheets in his nervousness. James had come in minutes before while they were in the middle of a conversation, but they kindly ushered him in toward Remus' bedside. After all, Neville had been worrying about the man since the incident at the Ministry the day before...

Smiling to himself, James turned his attention away from the two, not wishing to eavesdrop at all.

About ten minutes later, Neville quietly exited, smiling sheepishly to all of them as he washed and said his good-byes.

Before he could even step foot out of the Infirmary, however, Madame Pomfrey was sure to keep him for a few more minutes, forcing him to chug down a few more potions for his sake. His grandmother had insisted upon it, in fact, just in case he might come down with something. What and from what, no one was sure exactly, but no one had bothered to ask.

While Pomfrey was distracted, James and Harry were quick to come up to Remus' bedside. Harry bore to him a small paper bag and placed it on the bed next to him. "It's some chocolate," he explained. "You can have some later, if you like. We went all the way to Honeyducks for them."

At was thenafter Neville had leftthat Sirius arrived, looking sick as the proverbial/literal dog he was.

He hadn't held back with the drink last night, after all...

Madame Pomfrey only had to give him one disgusted look before she brought him a potion, which he down greedily, even though the taste apparently made him green to the gills. "Oh, gawd," he gagged, "this is terrible."

"Have a lovely night, Sirius," James asked pleasantly after Pomfrey had finished giving him a small lecture.

Remus smiled cheekily. "I told you the old goat couldn't hold any of it in. Learn something from this, Harry."

"Are you alright." At least Harry seemed worried enough for his old godfather.

"Yes, thank you, at least," he grumbled, finding a stool and dragging it over next to Remus' bedside. "Terrible, terrible morning..."

"Do you remember anything from last night," Remus asked, sounding almost curious.

"Of course I do," Sirius said, voice almost rising to a shout. A grin spread over his face, probably for two reasons. One, he was in fact recalling everything about last night, and two, he was starting to feel the positive effects of the potion. "I was free, and the Weasley boys blew up some fireworks. I got smashed at your bedside, James dragged by back to my room, and I terrified anyone I came across along the way."

"Sounds about right," James muttered, trying to sound disbelieving or perhaps reprimanding in Harry's eyes, while in fact he was laughing on the inside. "Though you forgot to mention all the paperwork you forgot to sign."

A colorful string of curses erupted from Sirius mouth, only to be stifled with Pomfrey's load exclamation of, "Mr. Black, hold your tongue, sir! There's a child in the room!" Harry's face grew sour at this, but he didn't say anything to contradict the nurse.

James sighed. "What? You really didn't think you'd get off that easily, did you? Just walk out the door and let bygones be bygones? You'll have to go back to the Ministry today to sign documents for your release and to get dates for your next court days. If you don't have any written proof of what happened yesterday than what else do you have? Their word?"

"You know, I heard Muggles do that sort of thing using machines," Remus said offhandedly.

"Computers," Harry said helpfully.

"Maybe the Wizarding World could learn something from those Muggles, then," Sirius growled. "A computer doesn't seem half bad at all."

There was silence

"So," Sirius said, "what did you two have to say...? I ran into the lad on the way here, though I hardly think I was a pleasant sight."

Remus looked confused for a moment before he smiled, making his face simply light up for the first time in a while. "You mean Neville? He simply wanted to say he was sorry, even though I hardly see why. But otherwise, he wanted to see how I was doing."

"He's a good lad," Sirius said gruffly, coughing into his hand and taking a deep breath. "No one can say otherwise without being not honest." He coughed again, this time harder.

Harry patted him cautiously on the back. "You alright, Sirius?"

"God awful taste to that potion... God awful!"

"I'm suddenly not really looking forward to drinking all of a sudden," Harry said.

Sirius smirked at this, jokingly saying, "Oh, don't worry. When you reach the right age I'll give you a bottle of something marvelous for your birthday."

James sent him an almost piercingly sharp glare, saying "NO!" with enough venom it made Sirius flinch. "Not if I can help it."

"I think that would be a lousy excuse for a present," Harry said quickly, though looked amused while he said it. Then he added almost slyly, "I, however, wouldn't be against a new broom…"

Sirius' own exclamation of "NO!" nearly rivaled James' in intensity, sounding quite the father figure himself, without even trying. It made James a little jealous… "You're not getting another broom. You're happy with the one you've got, aren't you? Besides, in Quidditch, it's not the broom that counts but the Wizard or Witch that fly it!"

James straightened just a bid more at the mention of this. "Which broom is this?"

"My Firebolt."

"Firebolt?" James could feel an old passion swelling within him. He really needed to read up more about the latest Quidditch news. "What sort of broom as that?"

Sirius smirked. "Let's say that they've improved over the years, James. That one, of course, was Harry's birthday present a few years back."

'Yes,' James thought, 'have a few missed birthdays to catch up on, don't I?'

"The Penknife you gave me was brilliant, though," Harry said to Sirius, a wide smile on his face.

James suddenly froze at the mention of this...

"Found any good uses for it yet," Sirius asked. James' reaction had apparently gone unnoticed by him and Harry as his son launched into a very interesting tale about breaking onto a prohibited school storage closet...

"You what?"

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Remus could hardly believe what he was hearing. How on earth had the conversation come to this? And just when he needed a bit of peace and quiet as well...

"What were you thinking giving my son a Penknife?" Of course Remus roughly knew what James was saying. After all, surely if James had one of THOSE back when he was Harry's age… heeh, but Harry was much better than that. "Sirius!"

"Calm down, Prongs," Sirius insisted, half-joking as he raised us hands up in defense. "For all you know he might be putting it to proper use… sharpening quills and such. Unless he's taken after his good dad without knowing it.."

"That's exactly what I'm afraid of! You knew perfectly well what he could do with it!"

Remus felt like he was back in school as a child, watching the two as they fought. As good of friends as they were, even they would fight over the most pointless of issues; from what prank to pull next to which girl they found more attractive. Now and then, however, the topic was on much more serious, like now.

He barely noticed Harry as he cursed, muttering darkly, "I hate it when he does this. I'm not a bloody child."

Sirius didn't seem to find anything pleasant about James' tone, pulling a face. "Have you ever tried to consider even ONCE that Harry's behavior is something he might have inherited? Why the devil do you have to go on and blame me! He IS his father's son, after all! Give the boy a little more credit." He crossed his arms defensively over his chest, jutting his chin upward as though to make himself look bigger. Unsurprisingly, it did just that, but James didn't look at all intimidated.

Actually, he seemed quite embarrassed…

Then Remus felt it was time to step in, clearing his throat and bringing their attention towards him.

"James," Remus said softly, once all eyes were on him, "what you must understand is that Harry isn't a boy anymore..." He paused, rethinking his words for a moment. "Well, at least not in the figurative sense…" He sighed, leaning back heavily against his pillows. "After all, how many children have seen what he has…? He's a young man far ahead of his years."

James looked over to Harry, who had his arms crossed in much the same way that Sirius did. "Harry?"

Harry pressed his lips tightly together, his green eyes gazing intently from over the tops of his glasses. "I didn't want to say anything… after all you are my father. I should respect everything you have to say… but I won't always listen to you, though. I don't have to."

"Damn right," Sirius spoke suddenly and loudly, "you don't have to listen to him without good reason. I never listened to my mother as a child and I perfectly proud of that."

James tensed… He looked ready to start yelling again, so Remus cautiously spoke up… "You know he's right, James," Remus said slowly. "But it's not just about rebellion," he shot Sirius a warning glance not to comment, and the man obediently closed him mouth, "this is about growing older, and not always looking to others to make decisions for you."

James stared blankly at them for a moment... "Well," he gave Sirius a quick appraising glance, "I didn't think being a parent would be something easy…" He looked to Harry and gave a small smile. "Though I couldn't help but hope it would be..."

"Hm…?"

"You're new at this, just as I am," James said, giving Harry a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "How can I really expect you to listen to ever word I saw? You have to think and make decisions for yourself, as well."

Harry smiled, slowly… "Yeah…"

"Don't be too easy on him now, James," Sirius snickered lowly. "You sound like your giving his the red flag to go and spread chaos throughout the school population."

"Just don't get caught," Remus said helpfully, receiving three sets of disbelieving eyes. "Come off it! That was the same advance you all gave me back then. What ever happened to sharing the wisdom?"

James rolled his eyes. "Share all you like, but 'Prongs' has retired from that sort of thing—"

"I knew it!"

They all jumped, heads snapping up and looking around wildly but not sure what to look for. The voice had come from for a distance, it seemed, but they had obviously heard what they said…

Suddenly the Hospital Wing doors bust open, and in stumbled two, tall, madly grinning redhead twin.

"Knew it," one of them repeated victoriously, pointed at each of them one at a time. "George, it's them!"

"We listened long enough to make double sure," Fred grinned, "and now we're positive! We were listening for it the whole time!"

In one hand the boy held what looked like flesh-colored strong. "What on earth is that," James demanded.

"Extendible Ears," Fred stated proudly, pocketing the item and giving it a soft pat through his robes. "One of our favorites."

"Makes ease dropping so much easier," George added. "Compared to the old fashioned way."

Perhaps James wouldn't be so worried if it weren't for that strange glint in the boys' eyes as they swiftly came over. Then, suddenly, James felt his hand being shaken ever so zealously. It felt like his arm would come off, and he could see the same becoming of Sirius. What the Devil were these boys on about all of a sudden?

"Prongs," George said excitedly, the grin never leaving his face. "You're PRONGS!"

James jaw automatically snapped shut then, eyes meeting Sirius', who was being greeted by Fred.

He didn't know why, but he sensed that the twins knew a little more than they should have...

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Harry was torn between laughing and holding his face in pure embarrassment.

"Padfoot," Fred was saying reverently, having released Sirius' hand at last and then aimed his attention at Remus, who almost flinched when Fred's eyes landed on him next. "We heard it all!"

George turned to Remus as well. "And you MUST be Moony! That one make complete and utter sense!"

"The writers of the Marauder's Map are Animagus!"

"And a werewolf."

"This is so bloody excellent! We LOVE you guys!"

Remus smiled sheepishly. "And thank you boys, ah... for those fireworks last night..."

"THAT'S IT," a voice shrieked, seemingly coming from no where. "OUT! ALL OF YOU, OUT AT ONCE!"

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

In a matter of seconds they had found themselves in the hallway. Sirius had no idea where Pomfrey had been hiding herself the whole time, but apparently she's had enough. She had physically shoved all the excess persons from the room, including James and Sirius, and both of them had made a hasty escape down the stairway after shouting quick good-byes to the boys.

"I can't believe that," Sirius muttered, running a hand through his messy black hair. He's taken a bath that day, of course, but it didn't seem to have helped as much as he'd hoped. He still felt "messy" somehow. Maybe it was finally time he got a proper haircut, though he was quite fond of his hair being long now a days.

"I can't believe it either," James muttered. "All this time, and the Map fell in to the hands of those two..."

"Not that," Sirius said with a slightly wicked grin. "Those Extendible Ears. Why hadn't we thought of something like that when we were young, eh?"

"Oh, don't be such a moron, Sirius," James chided him. "You're a bloody adult, act like it! And you have papers to sign, remember that." Sirius wanted to groan and grab his face after being reminded of this... "It you're lucky you'll there and back by nightfall if you try to Apparate."

"You're trying to change the subject," Sirius muttered.

James shrugged. "Maybe I am?" Pause... "You know, I hope Arthur never finds out."

"You mean Weasley? Hope he doesn't find out what?"

James angled his face away in a weak attempt to hid his grin. "That we're indirectly responsible for most of the trouble those twins have ever gotten themselves into in this very school."

Sirius snorted. "Every deck of cards needs a set of jokers."

In response, James' laughter echoes all through the school hallways...

Yes, it seemed everything was the way it should be...

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

One week later...

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Mr. Weasley hurried quickly around the next corner. Oh, he had so much to do today. Places to be. People to meet. Charlie and Bill had arrived to help him on his way home.

Of course, Mr. Potter and Mr. Black made sure to be there. They wanted to give him a send off and to meet his boys. Mr. Lupin was of course busy doing packing of his own, so he wasn't able to come. Mr. Weasley felt mildly disappointed, but understanding. Lupin would probably want to be alone at the moment. Leaving Hogwarts for second time would surely be hard for the man.

"Slow down a bit, will you?" Mr. Black was huffing and puffing behind him sounding exhausted and short of breath. "I'm sure they won't leave without you, Arthur!"

Mr. Weasley immediately came to a stop, sheepishly looking back at the two men following him apologetically.

"Don't whine," Mr. Potter said as they reached him, "you're not tired at all. Just making a show of things."

"I'd like you to meet my eldest son's," Mr. Weasley said pleasantly as he gave both the boys a firm hug. "Bill and Charlie."

Mr. Potter smiled and held out his hand in greeting to Bill first. "I believe we already met a long time ago."

Bill looked pleasantly surprised, laughing a little as he said, "You remember that?"

"It's the hair," Mr. Black offered, gesturing to his own jet-black hair as he said it. "It's hard to forget, I suppose. But of course I remember you two from..." He glanced knowingly toward Mr. Potter, who only faintly registered his hidden meaning.

Of course Mr. Weasley and the others had been sure to tell Mr. Potter at least a little of the Order, and who the members were. It was hard to discuss openly however, even within the walls of Hogwarts. No one knew who might be listening from around a corner, or through the cracks in the walls.

"You missed Dumbledore," Charlie said suddenly. "He was here just now with McGonagall to meet us and tell us where you were. He had a feeling you'd be running late, it seems."

Mr. Weasley gave a small laugh. Of course Dumbledore had been correct...

"So what are you two doing now," Sirius asked, trying to move the conversation along.

"Romanian Dragon Reserve," Charlie replied.

"Gringotts Bank," Bill said, smiling. "Normally stationed in the tombs of Egypt, but I'm back for a while to deal with other things. Family things."

"Speaking of which, Mom'll want you home soon, dad," Charlie said almost sadly. "I'm afraid Percy has been acting rather odd and rude lately, so she wants you to have a talk with him. But it's no big deal," he added quickly. "He got another job offer from the Ministry and I think he's going to take it."

"I think he needs a good smack in the head," Bill muttered, then received a sharp elbow from his brother. "Hey, you know it's true."

"Shut your face, Bill."

"Now that's enough," Mr. Weasley said civilly, somewhat surprised by his sons' behavior. Even Mr. Potter and Mr. Black were sharing mutual expressions of curiosity, and Mr. Weasley didn't want the two men to become a part of their personal family matters. "I'll talk to Percy when we get home," Mr. Weasley said with emphasis, "but until then..."

Luckily, his boys took the hint and dropped it...

"If I may ask," Charlie said slowly, "what will you be doing now, Mr. Black? Going back home to, uh...?"

"If you mean my mother's house, no, I don't think so." The disgust was dripping from his tone. "I think Grimmauld Place is being put to good enough use as it is, but I'm not going back there to stay. I don't want to be reminded of it anymore, actually."

"Sorry to heard that," Bill said regrettably.

Mr. Black waved him off. "No worries. I think I'll try to find another apartment like I did when I first got... moved out... Somewhere I can maybe get a fresh start. I don't want to much attention thrown upon me."

"Yeah, you'll need to watch that," Charlie said with a wink. "You're a celebrity now, both of you." He nodded to James as well. "I bet Mr. Lupin might be in the same position as well. So I think you'll have to watch out for those reporters. I hear they aren't aloud to step foot on school grounds, but I think if you plan to do any traveling..."

James gave a low, almost humorless chuckled, muttering, "Yes, I'll be sure to do that..."

"Speaking of traveling," Bill said, taping his brother on the shoulder before jutting his thumbs down the hall in the direction they had been headed earlier. "I think we should start collecting things, hm? Mom wants her man back home as soon as possible."

Mr. Weasley smiled brightly at this comment, said, "Then why don't you two go on ahead, then."

A minute later found James, Sirius and Mr. Weasley alone in the hallway.

"Nice boys you have there," Sirius commented.

"Exactly as I though they would be," James said, "just as you described them."

A faint "hoot" caught all their attention instantly. As they looked up, Mr. Weasley noticed something white flying toward them meaningfully, and after a moments glance he realized it to be an owl.

The creature glided toward them easily, though slowly as it came toward Mr. Potter, who hurriedly extended an arm for the bird to perch upon. In it's hooked beak was a folded letter, tied by a ribbon as well as a gold wax seal.

"Hedwig," Mr. Potter said absently, apparently recognizing the owl after a moment. "Harry's owl."

Hedwig looked at him critically for a moment before giving a small, almost arrogant "hoot" as she dropped the folded letter. Mr. Potter caught it easily as she set flight again, disappearing down the corridor back to wherever she came from.

"Odd time and place to be getting a letter, don't you think," Mr. Black asked as Mr. Potter carefully ripped open the wax seal. "Don't look to have a name on it, are you sure it's for you?"

"Only one way to find out," Mr. Potter said as he opened he envelope. "Perhaps Harry wanted to make sure I don't forget him to meet him outside later for a bit of Quidditch." From the envelope looked to be two separate letters, one with what looked to be a name scrawled on the back. Mr. Potter's yes began scanning the page with no name on the back.

Mr. Weasley stayed politely quiet as he read, eyes rapidly scanning the page. He noted almost instantly the way the man's hands gripped the sides of the page a bit tighter at each passing moment.

Then—only after what seemed like a few moments had passed—Mr. Potter suddenly grabbed Mr. Black by the shoulders and dragged him into a deep hug before shoving the letter into the other man's hands. "Congratulations! Congratulations, Sirius! This is wonderful-wonderful news!"

Confused, Sirius simply stared at James, almost forgetting about the letter that had been thrusted into his hands. "I take it the letter was for me, then?"

"I've got to go find Remus," James cried instead of answering. Then he threw back him in an almost cruel sounding laugh, "Oh Sirius, you're in for it!"

Then he was off down the hall in a flash.

Mr. Weasley couldn't help but smile as he looked on after the man, curious looking over toward the letter now left in Mr. Black hands as he read it word for word. "Won't what he is so happy about, hm?"

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Remus gave the room a good once-over again. He couldn't take everything with him, after all. To think it had only been about a month of staying here, teaching, and already he felt he'd accumulated far too many odds and ends.

Most of them weren't his. Some of the mugs, the books, even a small wall clock he's propped up on his night stand had all been small "gifts"—as he would call them—from kindly teachers who wanted to help him during his short stay... Perhaps some of them had intended on him staying quite a bit longer. He made sure to leave a note with each of the various trinkets, with the professors' names, to be sent back with the item to the original owner.

He sighed… it was going to be difficult leaving. Again.

Teaching wasn't the ideal job, but it was something he enjoyed. But being what he was... Doing the things he really wanted to do wasn't always an option.

His back screamed in agony as he lifted yet another small stake of books and placed them on the bed along with his trunk... After all, just this past week had been the full moon all over again. Even more reason for him to leave as soon as possible, even though the danger had now passed. At least Severus had been around to ready him the potions he needed...

A soft knock on the door make him straighten, putting on a fake smile as he turned to the door. "It's open."

He was relieved when it was only James.

James stepped inside, closing the door behind him. The sound of the door clanking shut echoed in the small room, making Remus wince slightly. Who would have ever thought the room could feel so lonely and empty besides just looking it? Now it sounded lonely and empty as well. "Packing," James inquired.

For some reason that didn't seem like that James really wanted to say... Though, maybe Remus was reading the man wrong, after all, it had been so long...

Remus looked back at the tattered suitcase just behind him, frowning. "Yes..."

"Then, is this or is this not a good time to tell you some news...?"

He sighed, shaking his head. "In a bit, James, I was just... thinking to myself... Honestly I'd like to be alone to my thoughts right now."

James didn't look for a moment like he would even consider walking back out that door. On the other hand, he'd never known James to listen to anyone, not even to requests from his friends. "If you're still worried that Sirius and I've forgotten about you, Moony, you've got it all wrong. Don't leave because of us, if anything stay for us."

He blinked, momentarily baffled. "What? No. No, you don't understand, James." How on earth had he gotten it so wrong? "I'm a danger to these students, I could never stay. I'm sure you've seen by now—"

"Oh my Lord—MOONY!" James had thrown his arms above his head, the gesture displaying the very essence of exasperation. "That's it? By Merlin, you're still on that little mantra! I thought you got over that back in school! You're only a "danger", as they call it, if you allow yourself to think it!"

James really didn't understand... "What about Neville," Remus said wearily. "I attacked him before, James, I wasn't even transformed and I could have..."

"You couldn't have done anything to stop that," James said, seriously. "You couldn't have done one blasted thing. If me, or Sirius, or anyone else were in your position, we couldn't have done anything, either. Don't blame yourself for that. You're a good man, Remus. You always have been, with a heart of gold, always! And don't tell me that you're an "evil creature", because you never were and never will be! You got to stand up for yourself. If you always go down without a fight, how would you ever know for sure if you would've won or lost in the end?"

Silence...

Remus was at a loss for words now, feeling lightheaded as his brain tried to process all that James had said. He wouldn't say that his mind was changed, really, but he was touched. He watched his friends fondly as the dark-haired man sat down on Remus' bed or a moment, looking as if he were testing the box springs. Remus thought he looked embarrassed. "Prongs..."

"Just give it a shot, Moony, will you? Maybe not with teaching, but you'll find something you love eventually. I mean, who was the one that always left us coughing dust in school? With grades, of course..."

Remus had to chuckle at this. "I had my priorities... more of less in order..."

"Priority #1, then," James said flatly, the smile on his face never wavering as he stood up again, "I need to go meet Harry and his friends for a bit of Quidditch. Join us if you can?"

"But it's freezing out—"

"Priority #2," James interrupted, holding up two figures now in front of Remus' face. "Help Sirius. Dumbledore found his a job here at Hogwarts to make up for his community service, and I think he should needs shown the ropes by someone he can trust. Merlin forbid if Dumbledore ever asks Snape to do it."

Remus started, blinking rapidly. "W-What? A job—here? That's wonderful—"

"Priority #3," James interrupted again, though this time his smile was becoming wobbling as though he were withholding the urge to smile even wider. "In our next trip to Hogsmeade, we must check out this small little space on the south side. The space isn't anything grand, but Dumbledore says they might have some work for you in the area. You might want to talk about it with him the next chance you get!"

This time Remus was nearly struck silent...

"... James..."

But the man was already gone, leaving Remus alone in the room, confused.

It took him a minute to notice the letter James had left for him on top of his suitcase.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The same time, elsewhere...

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Wormtail starred up toward the open window that stood high up at the top of the twenty-foot wall. All other windows had been blocked and closed off, of course. This place wasn't meant to look like anything more than an old shack from the outside. Even now, he stood so close to the outside… to think that far below in the hidden bowels of the structure... what lay there…

Sunlight began to stream in dully through that window… the sun's ray only hit it at an angle, after all. It must be very cloudy today, because that light had been fading in and out constantly. He hadn't taken a look outside to see for himself.

Wormtail had almost forgotten what it was like to stand in the open sunlight. After all, he couldn't afford to show his face anymore. Even if he were to walk around in the daytime, through the woods or even through the streets of London (on rare occasion), he wore a heavy cloak to hide himself.

Something also gave him the instinctive feeling that sunlight would harm him, somehow. He was one of those dark creatures, after all, wasn't he…?

The light click of metal boot heels made Wormtail jump, one hand instantly groping for his wand, his left, silver hand flexing as he turned toward the sound.

Lucius Malfoy stood before him, gathering his Death Eater robs around himself, slipping them off easily. He only raised a single, elegant pale eyebrow at Wormtail before draping the robes easily over one arm. Of course, beneath, he wore the finest of clothes. He probably had dozens of the same sort of robes at his mansion.

Wormtail couldn't remember the last time he'd had any other clothes than the ones on his back…

"It's only you, Wormtail," Mr. Malfoy said sneeringly, adjusting the cuff on his sleeve. "Staring at the sunlight again? Why not take a step out and have peek at it a little closer, hm?"

Wormtail growled quietly but did nothing else. If he could help it, he would avoid conflict with anyone. It was safer that way…

When Wormtail failed to give any sort of response, Lucius stuck his tongue in his cheek, his expression almost one of exasperation. "You might want to know, I heard from our Lord… Reports say that Potter will attempt to regain his position as an Auror," Mr. Malfoy said.

Almost immediately, Wormtail felt a sensation very similar to having cold water poured down his back.

"Y-You don't think they'll come after me, do you...?" He longed for an answer that would mean he would survive. That's all he ever wanted, to live, he simply couldn't face death, he couldn't!

As long as he stayed the Dark Lord good servant, perhaps one day his master would share the gifts of immortality with him...?

Mr. Malfoy looked straight at him, right into his eyes... That was something Mr. Malfoy never did, as to do such a thing would mean lowering himself to Wormtail's own level...

It was odd enough, however, that Mr. Malfoy talked to him at all. And he spoke with the utmost seriousness.

"Of course they will, you stupid fool. Eventually they will kill you." Wormtail felt the blood rush from his already pale face... Mr. Malfoy saw this and snorted disdainfully, sneering. "Really now, were you honestly fooling yourself into believing you would live? That you're untouchable since your the Dark Lord's pet rat?"

"B-But-"

"You're problem, Wormtail," Mr. Malfoy bit out, "is that you choose and make enemies and allies without thought to anyone other than yourself, the repercussions of your actions."

Wormtail wasn't exactly sure what Mr. Malfoy was talking about, but he surely wanted an explanation. "W-What d-do you mean?"

He sighed, as thought thoroughly annoyed. "One chooses their enemies, but not without good reason. Those who oppose our Lord are allies to the light—mortal enemies of our Lord. These people are my enemies also. This is a simple choice which I, for intense, have weighed on personal opinion." He sounded very diplomatic and sure of himself, as though he had thought this over in his head many times before and finally had the chance to tell it aloud to someone, even if it was someone as lowly him as Wormtail.

And also, who would he tell? He had no one... not anymore.

"However... Your worst enemies—those whom one should really fret over—are personal enemies. Those enemies you create for yourself not by choosing sides, but my directly acting against them for your own reasons."

"..."

"Of course," Lucius continued, "betraying the Potters would give you an edge as a Death Eater, but how long did you think it would last? A sniveling little bastard like you. You knew perfectly well what Sirius Black was like. You knew what kinds of enemies you were making for yourself. But you never thought of that, did you? You did it for your own gain alone, and not because you believe in our cause in any way. The only thing you believe in his your own dirty life. And now look where it's gotten you? Potter and his little friends are enemies of the worst kind. My, you've even made Dumbledore himself as your enemy." He laughed, bringing his hands together twice in applause that was far too sharp and rude to be flattering. "Wonderful!"

Wormtail gulped, shaking his head weakly. "N-N-B-But what about you? You're enemy's with the P-Potter's t-t-too?"

Mr. Malfoy snorted, throwing his head back slightly then brushed a bit of silvery white hair out of his perfect face, smirking. "I, unlike you, Wormtail, knew what I was getting into from the very start. I believe in our Lord's cause and follow him for that reason. Not for protection or cowardice. I know when to make bargains and sacrifices along the way. I do not make unnecessary enemies with those I know will pose a threat to me and my family later on."

Wormtail had no idea what Mr. Malfoy meant by this, but one things was clear. It was so simple.

The Potter's were Wormtail's enemies... not his alone, by no means, but they hated him nonetheless. They and their friends hated him just as much—if not more—then the Dark Lord himself.

They did not fear Wormtail—weak little Peter Pettigrew. No. If they found him they would... would...

Just then, Mr. Malfoy glanced down at his watch then (And most likely a watch of the Wizarding sort.), totally uninterested in the panic Wormtail was experiencing. "Hmm, seems I must be heading off. Our Lord has no more use for me tonight, and I am afraid I must gather my wife for a dinner party. You understand." Of course he didn't really care, he was just trying to be as cruel and sarcastic as possible.

No one really cared about him anymore, even though another part of him denied it. 'My fellow Death Eaters,' that part would say. But no…

"And for Merlin's sake, Wormtail," Lucius said, "go outside, won't you? I'm afraid lack of sun hasn't done wonders for your complexion."

And with a sudden "pop!" he was gone.

And Wormtail was alone. Again.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Two weeks later…

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Sirius' trail, which in the end had lasted well over two weeks, was finally over.

Sirius Black was officially declared innocent (publicly) under court of Wizarding law, and was free to go back to his old life (or what was left of it). This was not without repercussions, however, as Sirius was still charged with many acts of theft, public disturbance, vandalism and a number of other small crimes. Most of them were only assumptions, but the finger of blame was still pointed toward him, and there was little he could do. In truth, some of these crimes were honestly his doing (not that he would admit it). You don't go on the run for so many years without breaking into a few houses or stealing a few necessities.

He was given penalty charges with a fine, as well as required community service.

James was more than happy to help pay off Sirius' debts from the family vault, as Sirius, it would seem, had spent quite a bit of his own money on a broomstick few years back. Harry had been relieved, though, when he found that Sirius had only been jeering him when he said he'd spend almost all his saving on the broom.

Sirius had no idea what was meant by "community services". What sort of "service" would be required hadn't been decided as of yet, though he would be Owled when they though of something. He thought of one point he heard that Dumbledore would have something to do with it.

Sirius temporarily stayed at Hogwarts during this time, as he had nowhere left to go. He apparently had no real desire to return to his family home, which he visited briefly. The students at Hogwarts had gotten used to him being around just as they had with James Potter.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The London Underground, early afternoon...

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The jingle of a bell nearly set Sirius completely on edge after only opening it a few inches. Sending a quick glare at the top of the door and the tiny set of bells attached there he passed through, lowering his cloak's hood as he did so. He could already feel his palms sweating, though Sirius hardly had any idea what he was fretting about. He certainly wasn't in any danger now. No, no danger whatsoever.

"Mr. Black," came a voice to his left, and at almost the same instant a face popped up from behind one massive shelf. The expression on that face didn't seem very welcoming. "I have been expecting you."

Sirius stiffened, eyes following but head remaining stationary as he watched the man climb down his ladder and come out from behind the shelf towards him. "You have?" When he received only a steady gaze in return, Sirius nodded slowly. "You have…" Ollivander always had that all knowing air about him that Sirius had never found comforting. Actually, he'd once thought of the man's expression as the "I know what you've been up to" look. It seemed worse now. But no matter…

When Mr. Ollivander was standing directly in front of him Sirius wasted no time and reached into his robes, drawing out something long wrapped in a small cloth. As soon as he had the object in sight, Mr. Ollivander was quick to take it from Sirius, snatching away the scrap of fabric to give the piece of a wood beneath a good once-over before turning his eyes on Sirius again.

"Next time you decide to trade me for a new wand," Mr. Ollivander drawled darkly, "leave a note. And make sure the wand actually belongs to you. I believe Mrs. Amanda Wendel has been wanting her wand back for some time now."

Sirius was taken aback for a moment. His jaw tightened for a moment, then he slowly asked, "You knew...? I mean about..."

Ollivander looked insulted. "I remember every wand I ever sold, Mr. Black, every wand." He looked slightly upwards, as though trying to recall something. Of course Mr. Ollivander had a perfect memory, so that was no problem at all. "Beechwood, fourteen inches, unicorn tail hair core, indeed, that is Mrs. Wendel's wand. And she had been so pleased to get it back. She came in some months ago to find a replacement after her own was stolen from her handbag one evening in London. Luckily, she hadn't become too attached to the replacement, and I hope you haven't become too attached to this one, Mr. Black." He indicated the wand he held.

Sirius bit his lip, feeling rather annoyed. Of course he had needed a wand, but he had no way of paying for one... Well, at the time, anyway. He stole the first one he'd come across readily, and it hadn't mattered if it was some Witch's who'd been preoccupied with picking tomatos from a vegetable cart to notice. When he and Remus had come across Mr. Ollivander's shop that time not to long ago looking for James, Sirius had been almost certain that Ollivander wouldn't notice a thing. After all, there were so many wands in the place...

Obviously he'd been wrong.

"Look," Sirius began slowly, "sir—Mr. Ollivander, you should understand that at the time—"

"Of course, this wand really is suitable for you."

Sirius stopped and blinked a few times before he registered exactly what he had just been told. "Excuse me?"

But Mr. Ollivander only nodded to himself, "hm-ing" quietly. "Yes, yes, a good choice indeed. And all on your own, Mr. Black..." The man would never know Sirius had only chosen it at random... "Very impressive. I would very much like you to keep this wand… should you be willing to pay for it."

'Be polite, Sirius, be polite…'

Then again, he really did like that wand…

"Of course," Sirius mumbled, reaching once again into his robes and extracting his small change sack. Of course a few days ago he had gone by the bank and took out a bit from what he had left in savings.

Oddly enough, Sirius found it easier to steal than it was to bother paying. How odd. Hopefully old habits wouldn't die-hard.

A few minutes later found Sirius at the door of Ollivander's shop. His wand—rightfully and legally his—was wrapped neatly in a new box and now pocketed deep within his robes. He didn't know why Mr. Ollivander went through the trouble, as he would be taking it out immediately once he got out of the blasted shop... "Thank you, Mr. Ollivander..."

"Never," Mr. Ollivander said loudly, waving his finger at Sirius as though he were a disobedient child. "Never again, Mr. Black!" He didn't say anymore in warning, allowing the words to hang, sure Sirius would get the full meaning behind them.

Sirius was embarrassed. Horribly embarrassed—like he was child back in school and being scolded by a professor for playing a (not so innocent) prank. Sirius Black appreciated it even less now that he was an adult.

"Yes, sir," he said, careful not to let it come out through his teeth like he wanted it to. Mr. Ollivander was doing him a big favor in the first place, not telling anyone what happened—particularly the law. He could easily report him to the Ministry, put more time on his community service sentence, or even threaten a favor out of him, but he wasn't.

At that moment a couple with a young boy entered the shop. Mr. Ollivander was quick to turn his attention to them as Sirius nodded a quick goodbye and slipped out the shop door.

He hadn't missed the looks of absolute shock on the parent's faces when they saw exactly who he was, and part of him was snickering because of it.

Exiting the shop, Sirius brought his hood back up and over his face. Looking around, he caught sight of his companion across the street, looking in through a display window at some peculiar looking figurines that were being set up on the display. Both were wearing long winter cloaks like the one Sirius was wearing; one a deep blue and the other a somewhat tattered looking brown.

Sirius walked up behind them without being noticed immediately, hearing the nip end of whatever conversation they were having.

"You can never be too careful, I say you get a background check on these people."

"And what do you suppose I do? Ask a favor from the Aurors Office and demand to know if my future neighbors have ever committed a crime meriting time in Azkaban?"

"I don't mean like that. I mean you never know. They look... shady."

"Wizards have a habit of looking like that, James." Remus glanced over his shoulder after finally noticing Sirius' reflection in the window. "I mean, look at this character," he gestured toward Sirius, who wore his new dark winter cloak so that it shadowed his face. "This certainly looks like a shady character, don't you think?"

James smirked, giving Sirius a once over. "I thought he was a shady character, besides just looking it."

'Oh, ha ha.' "Funny, you, simply side-splitting funny, you old goat." James gave a barking laugh in response as Sirius shot both him and Remus a smart grin.

"Did you get it," Remus asked, eyeing his friend as his expression suddenly lost all humor and became serious.

"Yes," Sirius said simply, patting the pocket he'd slipped his wand into earlier. "He actually sold it back to me. Thought I'd made a fine decision, actually."

James smirked at him. Sirius knew that smirk. James looked like that whenever he knew he was right about something. Not only that, but he'd proven it without a doubt. Remus had the same look, pressing, "He knew, didn't he? He knew it'd been stolen the whole time, and that you'd replaced it with another stolen wand, eh?"

Sirius growled, looking away. "Yes, if you must know."

"Ha!" Remus exclaimed, "I knew it! It serves you right for stealing, you know."

"It was for a good cause." After realizing he'd sounded more biting and hostile than intended, he continued shortly. "Stop nagging like that, you sound like a woman."

"And you sound like a dog." He ignored the look Sirius gave him and began walking, saying back to James and Sirius, "And I shall never forgive you two if we miss the train again. If not, I'll make you pay for dinner again."

Sirius heard James chuckle and he patted him on the back. "Good to see he never lost his sense of humor, eh?"

"By the way, Remus," Sirius said, trying to change the subject, "how was Hogsmeade?"

Remus grinned cheerfully. "They said they wouldn't mind me as long as I take Wolvesbane potion each month and stay in the cellar then. Oh, don't give me those looks," he insisted as James and Sirius both got dark looks at the mention of the cellar. "If you've seen some of the other situations I've been in, you'd be just as pleased as me. Did you expect everyone to agree with me being a werewolf? The residents there have a relative whom became a werewolf a few months ago, and that's where he stays when he visits. And the cellar is the best place to be; out of the way of prying eyes, and the other residents in the area are already nervous enough if it weren't for the Wolvesbane. Now, the room I will be taking is small but splendid, I think I'll enjoy staying in a place like Hogsmeade."

"That's great, Remus," James said pleasantly, honestly happy for his friend. By the looks of it his mind began to wander for a moment as he looked into a few shops as they walked along. "I'll have to buy presents soon," he mumbled almost offhandedly, then he turned to his friends. "It's nearly mid December and I have nothing for anyone."

Sirius grunted. "There've been more important things to think about lately,"

"We've all been preoccupied," Remus agreed.

Of course they'd all been preoccupied...

How long had James been here...? Two months? Less?

Then Remus said lightly, almost as if he hadn't intended on saying out loud, "I need to somehow make it up to Severus..."

Sirius eyes narrowed at the mention of that man. "Make what up?"

Remus smiled, shaking his head. One of his arms crossed over his chest as he did so, almost as though in an odd gesture to get warm. It was his left arm, the one that was injured... Beneath his worn gloves Sirius knew that the skin all the way up to the elbow was still tinged blue.

Without saying anything else the three walked on along the gravel paths of the underground, glancing and stopping by windows every so often.

James moved closer to Sirius' side so that their shoulders brushed and Sirius could hardly see James out of the corner of his eye with his hood in the way. While Remus stopped for a moment to look thoughtfully at a set of new winter robes on display in a tailor shop window, James leaning in and whispered to him, "Now that that's done, will you come with me? After we drop off Remus, when we get back to Hogwarts?"

Sirius scowled. Not this again... "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Very sure..."

Well... If he was sure...

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Hogwarts, late evening...

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Snape growled openly at his students. How aggravating these children were! Double Potions, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. The first thought they knew everything (they did a fine job, but not good enough) and the latter had little comprehension of the terms "precession" and "delicately" (they weren't slow, just stupid).

He was in the middle of yelling at the class as a whole, pointing out a few particular names along the way and taking points, when the classroom door opened, stopping him in his tracks.

Save for the very subtle sound of well-greased door hinges moving against each other, the silence was sudden and defining.

The worst of it wasn't the fact that he'd been interrupted. No, it was the fact that his (unannounced and unwelcome) visitors happened to be none other than James Potter and Sirius Black. Snape could already feel his blood begin to boil at the very sight of them. The image of the two standing next to each other brought back unwelcome memories...

Potter opened his mouth a little, as though he wanted to saw something in particular but something was holding him back. His eyes surveyed the room full of children as though he were surprised. "I ah... wasn't sure if you were still in the middle of a class."

"And what else would I be doing," the Potions Master snapped, withholding the desire to turn his angry bellowing on his two visitors rather than the class. Of course the only reason the class was still there was because he was angry enough to hold them back another hour... But he wasn't about to tell that to Potter or Black.

But it was about time to bring the lesson to an end—he'd had enough of these children. At the same time he was tempted to keep it going only for the sake of keeping Potter and Black waiting. But Black looked like he wasn't going anywhere as he crossed his arms and leaned against the wall next to the door. Oddly enough, Snape noted this made his students squirm a little. It made Snape even more agitated. Only HE was to put fear into their hearts! And POTTER! They were staring at him in some kind of awe. Still that show off was thriving off the attention of "adoring" fans.

Gnashing his teeth, Snape got the attention of his class back to him with one sharp clap of his hands. The noise made his own ears smart for a moment, the sound amplified off the dungeon walls, though it had the desired effect. Nearly everyone—even Potter and Black—jumped a little, eyes returning to him all at once. Satisfied, he pointed to the cauldrons they all were hunched over, giving his final instructions for them all to put a small amount of their potions into vials, label them, and place them on his desk. All of them were also to scrub and scrape their cauldrons clean before they stepped out of the classroom, and anyone who failed to do so would pay for it in house points.

Before anyone could leave again, both Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw managed to loose themselves thirty House Points—each.

"Severus..."

Snape turned from his desk, his arms crossed and his eyes narrow. That last students had left the classroom, leaving them alone to be openly vicious (and violent if necessary) to both Potter and Black. After all, he wouldn't want to make a scene in front of his own students... Not that their hearts didn't need any more fear distilled into them, by no means. "What is it Potter..." Black was eyeing Snape warily, but Snape chose to just ignore him.

Actually, this was the first time Snape and Potter had really lad eyes on each other since he had arrived... Of course they had seen each other a few times in the Hospital Wing, but other than that they had avoided each other like a plague. Snape sneered as Potter took a moment to size him up, really look at him and see how he'd changed from to sniveling, skinny boy of old to the tall, intimidating form he was now. Snape wanted to smirk when he saw a note of surprise in Potter's eyes. Black's held only contempt, but he hardly cared.

"Are you going to stand here all evening, Potter," Snape sneered, "or are you going to state your business and leave?"

This seemed to get his attention and Potter nodded, his eyes set. "This is for being a bastard git to my son all these years..."

Snape blinked, confused, and was about to reply when James' fist shot out and clipped him in the jaw.

Snape stumbled back a bit, bumping into his desk before steadying himself; not missing the satisfied smirk on Black's face. He also didn't miss that Black wasn't doing anything to aid or stop his friend... not that he would have done the latter.

Potter stood with his fist still clinched, his face neutral.

But Snape didn't bother to hide what he was feeling. He was going to rip Potter's throat out. He was going to use every curse, hex and potion he could find to make his and his son's lives a living HELL!

After collecting himself, Snape's first instinct was to go for his wand, which he did with a sneer on his lips, eyes burning.

Finally Black showed some sort of reaction other than quiet snickering, stepping forward as if to stop Snape.

But something happened to stop both him and Black.

Potter had extended his hand toward Snape.

Snape didn't know what to make of the gesture, not in this case. Instead he froze, faintly registering the sharp pain in his jaw. Potter made no move for his own wand, so Snape decided then not to go for his own (He would probably kick himself later for it, but he would simply get revenge on Potter when he least expected it... Yes, that's it...). Black had become rigid, eyes shifting between the two men tensely.

"This," Potter said quietly, "is an offer. End this grudge you have against me--against my friends, as well as my son..."

He hadn't expected this, and internally Snape's jaw dropped. "You..." He narrowed his eyes. "You can't be serious. How can you—"

"What else would I have to say to end this fighting, Severus," Potter interrupted fiercely, though his hand still extended rigidly before him. "You want me to admit something? That you have every right for feeling the way you do? For what me and my friends did to you back then?"

Black had actually backed off a bit, his jaw clinched as he watched.

"Do you want be to admit that you're a better man," Potter continued. "Stronger? That I'm dirt compared to you? Do you want me to say that? You'd want it in writing as well, I take it?"

Snape, at Potter's comment, crossed his arms and said, "Maybe that's exactly what I'd want, Potter, after all these years..." He was being sarcastic, of course... or perhaps he wasn't. He wasn't sure anymore. "It's nothing less than I deserve."

"You are the better man, Severus..."

Black balked at his friend's words, looking disgusted. "James!"

Snape didn't seem to believe his statement, his arms still crossed, his eyes still narrowed.

But Potter didn't back down, his hand still extended. He continued, "You are the better man for your power. For being brave enough to find and save me, though you hate me, and not without good reason. For attacking a fellow Death Eater, all to save me—especially from the likes of Malfoy. You are the better man, Severus... For being able to protect... to save my son when he needed someone..." His lips closed into a tight, thin line before he continued. "When... I wasn't able to... For helping him though you hated me even in 'death'... You are the better man..."

The room was silent...

Black had turned away, his eyes staring at the floor, his expression calculating.

Snape... didn't know what to say...

Perfect Potter, all those years... He would do everything wrong, but wouldn't get caught for it, he and his friends would get away with everything no matter what. Potter thought he was the best thing to come across the earth since creation. He thought he was above the rules.

It wasn't fair... It wasn't... And James Potter would never admit that he, Severus Snape, was better. Never...

And... here he was, saying such things... The only thing missing from the image Snape had always pictured in his mind was blood and Potter on his knees begging for mercy.

But as close to the image Snape had always imagined in his own sadistic imagination, this wasn't close enough... or perhaps it was so close he didn't believe it for a moment.

"You have no idea what you're talking about," Snape finally said evenly, his tone subdued. He was trying his hardest to keep hold of his anger, the anger he held for so long... but it was blowing away like leaves in the wind... 'Damn him!'

He didn't want to let go of that anger... His life often depended on those feelings everyday of his life.

"I hate you, Potter. I hate your son. He's a hideous excuse for—... Just... Get OUT of my dungeons, Potter!" He couldn't think of anything else to say, but he was becoming angry again, and it was a gratifying, familiar feeling.

Black's head snapped up toward Snape, he growled. "How dare you! You selfish old—" Potter cut him off by throwing him a stern glare.

"I don't want to hear it," James said firmly to Snape. "Everyone here has played some part in my son's life. Harry wouldn't be the person he is now if it weren't for you... For all of you." He looked back at Black for a moment even though his friend wasn't looking at him, an odd light shinning in his eyes. It was sickening. "He wouldn't even be here if it weren't for you, as well, Severus. Like you've all be fathers for him this whole time when he didn't have anyone..."

Harry Potter... Snape's son? He could feel real nausea rise up within him.

"If you think that as a complement, Potter," he mutter dryly, "then you are grossly mistaken. Now leave my dungeons."

"No until you agree, Severus."

'Merlin, damn you bloody...' He eyed Potter's hand as though it was a live snake, and finally gave into the urge he'd had this whole time and slapped that hand away harshly. At this Potter's snapped his hand back, wincing, and Black was positively seething but then...

"If I think on this, Potter, will you both leave my dungeons and myself in peace?"

Silence.

'He'd agreed... oh bloody hell he'd agreed...'

'No,' another part of him said. 'You want him to go away, and he won't take 'no' for an answer. And Albus would be furious if you commit homicide on school grounds...'

Black tried hiding his astonishment, looking at Snape as if he'd grown two heads, but Potter smiled openly, nodding sharply. "Very well, Severus, I'll let you think about it..."

He turned and headed for the door, Black quickly falling into step next to him like an obedient pet as Snape watched both of them with sharp, steady eyes.

"I can't believe he bloody agreed," Black was muttering to Potter as they left.

"I did nothing of the sort," Snape yelled loudly after them before they disappeared around the corner, an edge of ice in his voice.

But it was too late... For Snape, anyway...

Turning sharply he strode back to his desk and sat down heavily in his chair. For an instant he felt his jaw give a sharp sting of pain, and he realized he would have to do something about that to prevent a nasty bruise from showing up tomorrow.

"Damn you, Potter... I will get you back for this..."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"You moron."

"Stuff it, Sirius."

"Of all the most idiotic things you've EVER done in your lifetime, James Potter, that was one smashing piece of work. What were you thinking—if at all? This is SNAPE, you git!"

"I'm very aware of it, Sirius."

"You think being all chummy and called him by his first name is going to make him want to be buddies with you? You know he's going to do something positively wretched to get you back for that punch. And you won't be able to do a blasted thing because you HAD to make it up to a man that deserved everything he got back then!"

"No one deserves that treatment."

"... You're such a stupid—"

"I know, Sirius, and so are you by nature, now stuff it! If I can let this go then at least give your own bitterness a bloody rest."

"Fine..."

"Good."

"..."

"Though, you know, Sirius…"

"What?"

"Remember that blue goop that that Potions Master put on Remus' arm before at the Ministry? Right after he got dragged away?"

"What about it?"

"Wasn't it supposed to turn his skin blue for a while?"

"... Yeah?"

"Did Snape's fingers look at all… bluish, to you…?"

They both shared a mutual speculative look.

"No… I'll believe it when Voldemort appears at Hogwarts in knickers and does a little dance, James."

"Don't jinx that, Sirius… remember what Remus said earlier?"

/"I need to somehow make it up to Severus..."

"Make what up?"

Remus smiled, shaking his head. One of his arms crossed over him chest as he did so, almost as though in a gesture to get warm. It was his left arm, the one that was injured.../

"…"

"…"

"Suppose we shouldn't say anything, should we? It wouldn't look good on Snape's track record if anyone knew, would it? And besides, I personally wouldn't want to give him any reason to believe I should ever grow to like that greasy ghoul."

"No." James smiled to himself, ignoring Sirius' last comment. "Not a word."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Everything seemed as it should be... Everyone was happy. Hogwarts was calm and peaceful, saw the occasional "harmless" Weasley prank.

As far as "they" were concerned, nothing touch them. The Potter's and his friends, especially.

That made it all the most troubling for someone like Albus Dumbledore, sitting alone in his office or pacing in constant circles, an old prophecy replaying itself over and over in his mind.

Of course he couldn't tell them what was to come in the future, and what right did he have to? He himself couldn't know for certain. But Dumbledore knew never to allow himself to forget the danger the Dark Lord posed to them all. To the world...

After all... yes... what was that saying...?

"Evil's greatest accomplishment...is tricking you into believing it has no power over you."

Yes... Once the Dark Lord had tricked them all, but it seems that the past dose often repeat itself...

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Over two weeks later...

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"Only a month," he hissed. "Only a single month..." His blood-red eyes swept across the men standing before him. "Only one month, and what has happened...?"

When no one answered him, he turned his eyes upon one masked face, coal black eyes peered out from behind thin slits.

"What has happened, Severus...?"

"James Potter returned," Severus replied, as ordered of him, his voice respectful and quiet, though barely disguising the hatred coursing through his veins. Beautiful hatred…

The Dark Lord nodded, pleased with the response despite himself. "And...?"

"... And Sirius Black has been freed," he said, this time not bothering to hide his hate.

Good. Hate is what made Severus—like so many others—strong.

Hate fueled rage.

Rage drives one to kill.

And death is the worst fate of all. They all learn this eventually...

"Bellatrix will not be pleased," the Dark Lord said almost offhandedly. The woman should feel honored that she was remembered by name by the Dark Lord himself. Of course he would always remember the names and faces of those who served him most loyally… He backed up a few steps and once again took his place on his throne, his strong, pale hands grasping onto the arm rests casually. "It won't be long... with the Dementors at my beck and call, the release of my most loyal servants—our allies—imprisoned in Azkaban is only a matter of time."

He signaled with his hand, and all of a sudden the doors to the room opened slowly, the chilling groan of metal hinges and aged wood sending chills through the other occupants of the room. Or perhaps it was somethin else...

Moments later, the room became even colder that it had been previously.

Even as a terrified ripple of fear washed through each and everyone of the Wizards and Witchs standing in the room, Voldemort's thin, gray lips stretched in a smile of glee. One might mistake the expression for a grimace.

Then there they were... Black, menacing creatures. Each of them filed in one after another, floating high along the ceiling like wisps of tar-black smoke.

"Yesss," he hissed, opening his arms welcomingly as the dark forms rose up before him. He was not intimidated. He was Voldemort. The Dark Lord. He feared nothing...

...Not even fear itself...

A number of the Death Eaters in his circle had backed away against the walls, breaths chilled and visible as their chest rose and fell rapidly. He could almost hear their hearts pounding and smell the potent scent of pure terror...

The Dementors were almost instantly attracted to those cowering near the walls. Knowing not to kill the men and women before them, they instead extended their gray, rotten fingers toward them in an almost hypnotic manner. It was a simple motion that only served to elect even more fear and panic that they fed from greedily.

Of course, as new allies, Voldemort would never allow his guests to remain so hungry...

With another hand signal, two of the Death Eaters closest to the door quickly rushed out of the room.

Moments later they returned, dragging a wretched looking man in disheveled and dirty clothing. A Muggle—to be exact—who had been selected at random. His own unlucky fate. The man seemed even more frightened that the Death Eaters along the walls, his eyes wide and disbelieving, his face white as snow.

The Dementors sensed him almost instantly and moved in. The Death Eaters holding the man let go quickly and back away, allowing the Muggle to fall as though boneless to the floor, too frightened to move, yet still so ignorant of what was about to happen.

Voldemort laughed.

"A gift to you, my allies..."

A shutter of what must have been anticipation or perhaps glee went though the Dementors, and as one they moved in upon the shivering Muggle.

The man could hardly scream as cold fingers wrapped around his neck and he became less and less able to move against the darkness that clouded his mind. The grotesque hole in the creatures' face—it must have been its mouth—descended with ease...

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Harry's eyes snapped open with a sharp intake of breath.

He reached up almost instantly and gripped onto his pillow, though he didn't know why, really. Perhaps at that moment he needed to hold onto something. Something that was real and he would know that it was all a dream...

He remembered dark shadows—Dementors—swooping downwards.

A dream...

When his breathing returned to normal, his heart returned to a normal pace, Harry blinked heavily as he carefully rolled out of his bed... He could feel his body shivering, his arms and legs feeling almost nerveless as they could sometimes get after a particularly horrible fright. Harry took hold of the end of his blanket and roughly rubbed it over his forehead and face, ridding himself of the sweat that was ticking the skin of his cheeks and neck.

He sat there for another minute, debating whether he would finally tell someone about these peculiar dreams he'd been having recently—after all it might be nothing to worry about at all, only stress...

Harry's hand strayed confidently toward his nightstand and picked up his glasses. Slipping them on, he ran one clammy hand through sweat dampened hair and glanced around the room. It was far too early to get up yet. He could tell by the color of the sky just outside a nearby window. Everyone else in the room was fast asleep, their canopies closed to keep out at least a bit of the winter chill... Of course Harry had somehow forgotten to do the same the night before, but he didn't know why...

Then he noticed how at the foot of each bed, a trunk was ready and packed to go... somewhere...

Of course the first two things that came to Harry's mind then, obviously. It's "clicked", so the saying goes.

Christmas Break.

And the Dursley's...

He was going back there...

Harry realized with growing dread that there was no way he could go back to sleep now. Instead he figured he would much rather appreciate a long bath before the day began—which would no doubt turn out to be horrible...—and he slowly dragged himself from his bed, sighing and his own misfortune.

Fate had a habit of being cruel, especially when you didn't have a say in the matter. Even when it was your own father making the decisions for you...

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The End...? Hardly.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Rough Teaser:

"You!" Vernon waved his finger madly in the boy's face, which appeared as a blur as it nearly struck Harry in-between the eyes. "You're just plotting something, I know it! Don't try to look innocent, we all known what you are!"

"Vernon, please," Petunia whispered, terrified. "You don't know what he might do!"

"He can't do a bloody thing," Vernon said pointedly, "not unless he wants to be expelled." He reached forward and took a firm grip of Harry's shirt collar, ignoring the look of shock it gain form the boy. "Do you, boy?"

The little monster blinked at him, confused. "How do you mean, sir?"

Vernon couldn't take it any longer, to blazes with the consequences of some crazed lunatic of a god father! He grabbed the boy by the collar of his shirt and shook his, hard. The boys head was thrown about sharply and a strangled cry rose from his throat.

Petunia let out a horrified screech, his arms flailing about as thought to signal her husband to stop, but she didn't seem very willing to take any other physical action to stop him. "Be careful, Vernon," she cried just at Dudley's head peeked into the room, though the rest of him didn't follow. "Stay away, darling," she screeched again, fearing for her son's life, "you don't know what he might do!"

"What? That GODFATHER of his won't do anything to get himself in prison again, would he? That it, isn't it?"

"Unhand me, sir."

Vernon nearly let go out of pure shock, but quickly got over it, shaking the boy sharply once more.

He wasn't even sure where it had come from, but all of a sudden he has a thin piece of wood pointing him between the eyes.

"I said, unhand me."

He had never heard the boys voice sound so cold and forceful, and Vernon told his hands away as though he'd been burned. Petunia screamed again, backing away against the wall.

Dudley ran back then, this time running completely into the room. Shockingly enough he was really moving this time, his arms flying about much in the manner of his mother's, however in a much more sluggish fashion. The exercise alone was making his sweat profusely.

"There are PEOPLE outside," he screamed, turning paler by the second as more sweat poured down from his cubby face.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

GEEZ, do you realize how long this took me? (Though I'm guessing most of you do know and HATE me for it, too.) This fic was actually somehow deleted from my floppy (as you've already read above) not too long ago... or, at least the updated version was deleted. But I still had a lot done, and I was ticked that it got deleted! "Fatal Errors" suck! So now I'm not taking any chances, with copies of these story on 3 others computers and on various disks. Technology bits sometimes, you know?

Below are my thoughts about some of the characters when I was writing certain scenes. I know a lot of you might not care ' but some of you do. If you wanna perhaps know my theories on OTHER characters, be free to mention it in an email or review or something to let me know, and next time I shall write more.

Geuna

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

PERCY:

I'd like to quickly explain why Percy is deceiving his family rather than telling them the truth about what he's about to do. It is very simple, really: Percy blames the Ministry for putting Charlie and his father in danger earlier in the story, and for nearly getting Charlie killed during the Dementors attack. At the same time, however, he still doesn't like Dumbledore, and also blames him for putting his family at Hogwarts in danger by not telling the Ministry (or anyone else) about the Entity. At this point in the story, Percy is debating as to whom he fills more inclined to follow.

Percy did NOT side with Dumbledore. In Percy's mind, if he works as a spy in the Ministry, then this way he can find out for himself which side is the right side.

Percy cannot tell his family what he's doing because... Well, with a family that can care so much for him—especially Mrs. Weasley herself—it would be impossible to tell any one of the Weasley's. It might be too difficult for some of them to "fake"-hate their own son/brother. Look at Snape. He must always play the part of the cruel Death Eater. As to why Percy told only Charlie... well, he already told us in the story, now, didn't he?

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

LUCIUS and WORMTAIL:

I really loved the part with Lucius talking to Wormtail, and sorry to you Wormtail lovers for that (I know you're out there, I've met a few of you, and you're all pretty cool ). Also sorry to those who wanted Lucius to turn to the light side, but that would be very unrealistic.

By him explaining things to Wormtail, we find that Lucius is on the Dark Side because he believes in the cause, just as much as James and Dumbledore believe in there own cause (Even though that cause is evil). That's just who Lucius is, not to mention the man's a total badass. Wormtail is truly evil in a different sort of way because he based all his decisions on personal gain rather than personal beliefs or values, and gained more deadly enemies that he could have ever imagined.

Perhaps Wormtail overrated the "protection" he would receive at the Dark Lord's side. Lucius, obviously, knows who—and who not—to make enemies with.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

JAMES, SNAPE and SIRIUS:

As for the encounter with James and Snape, it's obvious that they still hate each other—even with putting their past's aside. James isn't willing to hold onto the past like that anymore, and would rather move on and be with Harry in the present... I think at this point James knows exactly how much of a ass he was to Snape, and perhaps a part of him doesn't regret a thing the same as Sirius, but what sort of example would that be to Harry? James hardly expects any small miracles (and nor do we) in Snape deciding to "forgive and forget".

Snape, I think, IS just as bad as he seems, but isn't all that there is to him (we find that out in OotP). His life depends on him being the perfect actor and play a role. It's a gamble for his life, and I think a part of him draws on his own hate in order to make that role seem as flawless as I think it must be. I don't think he can ever stop hating James or Sirius, or even Remus.

Sirius and Snape, on the other hand, are going to hate each to the death and beyond. How will that ever change? Wonder how they will both handle, both being Hogwarts professors...? Hohoho! I can't wait for the next part!

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

HARRY:

Ironically, at certain moments throughout this story, Harry has very intense dreams about Voldemort, or someone who is in close proximity to Voldemort. The first was Wormtail (I think) the second was Lucius... there might have been another if I could remember it. ' And this final one was the first to be from Voldemort's own POV. Most of the dreams have been when the Dark Lord's either pissed or troubled, or being especially vicious. Lucky for me, this is very much like what Harry actually goes throughout OotP (I'm psychic!). In this story, however, Harry has had a habit waking on his own and forgetting these dreams.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

NEVILLE and REMUS:

You're also wondering about Neville (oh, I know a lot of you are, you've TOLD me!), why didn't I make him a werewolf?

1) It's only a whim that Lupin is teaching in the first place, if not for a short amount of time. I don't think Fudge will stand for such a mistake.

2) Not only will he loss the chance of getting ANY good job in the future, but it would probably land him in AZKABAN! NO WAY I'm doing that to Lupin! Do YOU want to see this happen to Lupin...? I'm glad most of you agree.

3) If such a thing happened to a student he is very fond of (ex. Neville) Lupin would never forgive himself and spiral into a depression from which he would never wake... Well, maybe, maybe not, but I'm the fan-author here.

4) Poor Lupin is a sad, lonely person to begin with, and I couldn't do something so mean and heartless to him. Also, Neville is a little sweetheart, and I wouldn't want him to turn into a werewolf and go through the same troubles Lupin has always had.

5) All other possible reasons aside, I simply am looking at the logic of the Wizarding world, and for the benefit of Lupin, this story, and my life at the hands of rabid readers, I would like to keep Lupin in the game, instead of in Azkaban.