A/N: putting this up just before class. I'll answer the reviews later - wanted to have this posted. Let me know what you think. It's another interlude; hope that it works in the story. Bye!


Interlude: New Year at 12, Grimmauld Place

"Who'd have guessed it wasn't Evan who found me out in the end?" Carden mumbled. She fell silent, staring across the room.

Lupin put his hand on her arm. She jumped. "Maybe I should go and get us all a cup of tea," he suggested.

She blinked to regain her composure. "Yes, that's a good idea."

After Lupin left the room, bumping into Fred and George, Carden got to her feet and started pacing near the window. She seemed to be in deep thought, wringing her hands.

"Professor…" Harry began.

Carden looked up. "Call me Niamh, please, when we're not at school."

"Okay. What happened after Professor Dumbledore's warning, Niamh?"

Niamh's head shot up. She tried to speak, but the words seemed to be stuck in her throat. Giving a soft cough, she mumbled, "Let's wait for the tea, shall we? I'm parched from all that talking." She smiled unconvincingly.

Silence filled the room until Lupin returned, floating a tea tray in front of him. He carried a small box under his arm. Lupin let the tea pour itself into the cups and put the box on the table.

"What's that?" Harry asked.

"It's Sirius's," Lupin answered. "Photographs."

A muffled sound came from near the window, making Harry turn his head. Niamh looked shocked.

Lupin cleared his throat. "They're old photographs. I thought you might like to see them," he said to Harry. "I found the box in Sirius's room after his death."

With wooden movements Niamh walked towards the box and sat down on the sofa again, folding her hands in her lap.

Lupin carefully lifted the lid. Harry noticed Niamh was staring at it with wide eyes and flared nostrils, almost fearfully. Perhaps the past was coming a little too close. Lupin glanced briefly at her when he put the lid down next to the box. Niamh didn't move when he pushed the box in her direction.

"I can't," she said, quite calmly for someone who looked to be on the edge of a nervous breakdown. She didn't move her hands.

Harry stretched out his arm and pulled the box towards him. He looked at its contents. There were some folded pieces of parchment that looked to be legal documents, some notes, and many pictures. Slowly he took a few of them out. There was the picture of this parents' wedding he already knew. Now he recognized the brown-haired woman on it. She stood in the right corner of the photograph, her face half-hidden because she kept turning her head from the photographer. Still disguised as Nicole Carmichael.

The next photo was of his father and Sirius, arms around each other's shoulders. They looked younger here. Harry reckoned it was taken at Hogwarts. The boys were making faces at the camera and Sirius had his red and gold striped tie wrapped around his head. Harry chuckled.

The third picture took his breath away. It was a close-up of a young Niamh, with her red hair tumbling wildly about her face. She smiled brilliantly at him, constantly trying to blow a curl from her face.

"Wow," Ron said appreciatively, leaning over Harry's shoulder.

Harry froze when he laid Niamh's portrait on the table. The last picture in his hand was of Sirius and Niamh together. They were holding each other as if they were dancing. Niamh had turned her head towards the photographer and was saying something with a cheeky grin, but Sirius seemed not to care that a picture was being taken. He was looking down at her with a tender smile.

With a slightly shaking hand Harry put the photograph on the table. He noticed Ron had gone silent too. They both realised what they were looking at. Relics of a destroyed life.

Niamh reached out and picked up the last photograph. She closed her eyes when she saw it. "How is it possible he still had this?" she asked with a grating voice.

"I had them," Lupin answered.

Niamh stared uncomprehendingly at him.

"I took them from his house after he was arrested," he explained. "I don't know why. I suppose because I knew the Ministry would search everything and I didn't want this to fall into their hands. With everything that had happened – it just seemed too personal and painful. Maybe, I wanted to preserve something of the past too, as a warning. And I owed it to you, to keep private as much as I could, little as it was."

Niamh stared at the photo in her hand. "I remember this being taken. I've never seen it before though. We were happy here."

"It took Sirius a while to remember," Lupin said gently. "He'd found the box while he stayed with me after the Triwizard Tournament. I gave it back to him when we moved here."

"How much had he forgotten?" Niamh whispered, her eyes still fixed on the scene in the picture.

"Almost everything," Lupin answered softly.

"Except the end," Niamh added bitterly.

"Except the end."


"Rosier…" Harry muttered a little while later. "Rosier… I've heard that name before."

"What?" Niamh croaked, her head snapping towards Harry. "Where?"

"I'm thinking…" Harry's voice faltered. "Moody!"

Niamh made a sudden movement with her arm. "What?" she repeated, almost panicky. "What has he told you about Evan?"

"In the Pensieve," Harry clarified, taken aback by Niamh's outburst. "In a memory of Dumbledore's. It was during the trials. Igor Karkaroff told Mr. Crouch Evan Rosier was a Death Eater and Mr. Crouch said Rosier was dead. Moody made the comment that he'd taken a piece of him with him before he died. That's all."

Niamh took a moment to calm herself. "Yes, Alastor tracked him down. Evan refused to come along, so Alastor finished him," she said in a hollow voice. "He's dead. Dead and buried."

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny looked at each other.

Lupin cleared his throat. "Let's see if Molly's made her famous pasties again, shall we?"

"Prof – Niamh?" Ginny asked timidly.

"Yes?"

"What happened?"

Niamh stiffened. Her eyes turned cold and distant as she stared at Ginny for a while. Then she sighed and got out her wand. She waved it across her throat one time. Some of the pale skin turned an angry red colour. Gradually a thick, coiling scar revealed itself. Hermione and Ginny gasped.

Harry stared in horror at the disfigurement on his godmother's neck.

Niamh smiled wryly. "Glamour charm. Works much better than turtlenecks and shawls. Does that answer your question, Ginny? Voldemort is what happened. And after I recovered I left. Well, shall we get some of those pasties?"

She turned around and walked to the door without another word, stopping in surprise when she found Fred and George on the other side. Fred quickly stuffed something in his pocket.

"Hello boys," Niamh nodded and slid past them, heading downstairs. Harry could see her waving her wand across her throat again.

Lupin threw the twins a disapproving look and hurried after her, the box full of photos forgotten.

Fred and George stepped inside. "Interesting story," George commented.

"You could've just come in and listened," Ron said, rolling his eyes. "No need to use the Extendable Ears." He pointed at Fred's bulging pockets.

"But that would ruin half the fun," Fred objected. "So, any ideas on why she's refusing to finish her story?"

"Isn't that obvious?" Hermione snapped. "We all know the crimes the Death Eaters and V--Voldemort commit. I really think you should not ask her about it, Harry. If she wants to tell you, she will. If not – well, I think she has her reasons."

"Did you see that scar?"

"Makes yours look like a beauty spot, Harry."

"Fred! George! Honestly!" Ginny sputtered indignantly.

"What curse do you think did that?" Ron frowned.

They all turned to Hermione, who opened and closed her mouth. "I don't know," she said softly. "I doubt it's in any of the books I've read."

"Let's get downstairs," Ginny suggested.

"Ron," Harry began. "Your uncles – ?"

"Murdered. Five Death Eaters took them down. I don't know anything more," Ron answered.

Harry was prevented from replying by loud voices downstairs.

"Really, Niamh, do you think that's a good idea?" Lupin asked. The voices were coming from the kitchen.

"I need to do some shopping anyway," Niamh replied.

"I can get them for you." That was Mrs Weasley.

"No, thank you, Molly. I'm going myself." Niamh's voice was adamant.

Harry and Ron followed the others into the kitchen. Niamh was putting on her cloak with brusque movements. She glanced up at her students for a moment. The far-off look in her eyes had vanished; Harry saw that the vengeful glint had returned.

"Niamh…" Lupin tried again. "I don't think it's wise for you to go to Diagon Alley right now."

"I need to get out of this house for a moment, Remus!" she snapped. She turned to the door.

"Yes, I can understand that, but you should listen to Severus's warning…"

Niamh spun around, her eyes blazing. "I don't give a damn Severus says!" she snarled. "You want to know where he can shove his warning?"

"Niamh, the children!" Molly gasped.

"I'm sure I'm not telling them anything new about the male anatomy," she replied testily.

Harry heard Ron cough suspiciously next to him and the twins' faces broke into a maniacal grin.

"Fine," Lupin gave in. "But I'm coming with you."

Niamh shrugged. "Whatever you like."

His face tensing, causing the premature aging lines to become more visible, Remus grabbed a cloak and put it around his shoulders. He followed Niamh out of the kitchen, where they tiptoed past Mrs. Black's portrait.

"Well," Mrs. Weasley said agitatedly. "Well, you lot can help me with dinner then."


Niamh and Lupin returned just before dinner. She flicked her wand to send her packages upstairs to her room and took off her cloak. She had a rather smug look on her face, as if she were very satisfied about something. Lupin, on the other hand, seemed to be simmering with anger.

"Everything all right?" Harry asked.

"Perfectly fine," his godmother answered briskly.

"You didn't run into any trouble?" Mrs Weasley inquired, frowning at the expression on Niamh's face.

"No trouble at all."

Lupin glared at her and sat down at the table next to Ron. "No trouble indeed. That is, until she stepped into Gringott's and announced her name to the goblin. Loud and clear enough to be heard across the entire hall."

"Niamh!" Mrs Weasley gasped.

Her face split into a cheeky grin. "What an effect two little words have, Niamh Carden. I swear someone fainted behind me."

"You're mad," Lupin sighed.

"Ah, Remus, come on. You have to admit it was funny."

Lupin muttered something unintelligible under his breath and accepted the plate Mrs Weasley had been ladling stew on.

The next morning, not even two minutes after Lupin had seated himself on the same spot as the evening before and had begun reading the Daily Prophet, his face tautened. "Well, now you've done it," he sighed and handed Niamh the newspaper.

She scanned the page for a moment. Suddenly she gave a contemptuous snort. "Good Lord, I should have executed my threat all those years ago."

"This is not funny, Niamh," Lupin said crossly. Harry, Ron, and Hermione glanced at each other. Lupin was more irritated than they had ever seen him.

"What's going on?" Mrs Weasley asked.

"Rita Skeeter," Niamh chuckled. "I quote, "Former socialite Niamh Carden, who disappeared in suspicious circumstances over fifteen years ago, was spotted yesterday in Diagon Alley. Miss Carden was seen in the company of an unidentified, handsome man, while she purchased many items in several shops."

Here Niamh looked up and grinned at Remus, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

"Not funny," he repeated.

"Let's see, what else has she got to say?" Niamh mumbled. "Ah yes, the usual, my brother, my sister – unavailable for comments, what a shocker – and of course a recollection of my social life…" her voice trailed off. She cleared her throat and pushed the paper away. "Well, the usual rubbish."

Harry took the newspaper. "Miss Carden? They don't know you're – were married?"

Niamh shook her head. "No, it was a Muggle ceremony. Nobody in the Ministry knew. And Dumbledore managed to keep it quiet after Sirius was sent to Azkaban. I would have had Aurors on my tail every second of every day as Mrs Black."

"I knew I shouldn't have allowed her to start working for the Prophet again," Hermione said, leaning over to read along with Harry. "Even though she promised not to write about you, Harry."

Harry grumbled in an agreeing manner, but kept on reading. He'd spotted the familiar name almost straight away.

to this day yours truly has not been able to solve the mystery of Miss Carden and Evan Rosier. Rosier, killed by Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody not too long after Niamh Carden disappeared, was once engaged to her. My faithful readers will remember the article telling about the attack on Miss Carden, a crime her ex-fiancé was suspected of. The exact details of this tragic story have never been revealed…


Later that morning Harry walked upstairs with Ron and Hermione. On the second floor they found Fred and George, both equipped with Extendable Ears.

"Who are you listening in on?" Ron whispered.

"Lupin and Carden," Fred whispered back.

"What are they on about?"

"About her trip to Diagon Alley again. It's mostly Remus asking Carden since when she's adopted Sirius's recklessness."

"Hand me one," Harry and Ron demanded simultaneously.

Hermione bristled. "You can't eavesdrop on them. It's personal!"

A worked up voice coming from inside the room cut her off. "YOUR NAME IS ALL OVER BRITAIN THANKS TO THE DAILY PROPHET!" That appeared to be Lupin.

George thrust an Extendable Ear into Harry's hand.

"…students telling their parents my name. Skeeter would have found out eventually. Besides, to keep his precious cover intact, Severus announced my return to his master at the beginning of term."

"Voldemort is not Severus's master, Niamh," Remus said quietly.

"So he says. You'll forgive me for having my reserves, won't you? I've seen the things he did. And what he let happen." The last sentence was barely audible, even with the Extendable Ears.

"You have to be more careful."

"Actually, I was planning on visiting my dear sister tomorrow," Niamh announced.

"Damn it, are you trying to get yourself killed?" Lupin growled.

There was a silence.

"Niamh?"

They had to strain their ears to hear her voice.

"No. It's just -- perhaps I'm not as hell bent on staying alive as I used to be. Perhaps it all should have ended years ago."

Another silence. The five students outside the room sat frozen.

"Will you tell Harry about it?" Lupin asked.

"Are you mad? Of course not!" Niamh gasped heatedly.

"He wants to know."

"I'll tell him the Death Eaters had their fun and that Dumbledore dragged my sorry carcass from that place."

"Niamh…"

"What would you have me do, Remus? Evan may be dead – he died a whole lot quicker than I had in store for him, mind you – but what about the others? I can't tell Harry about the rest. He hates Draco already, imagine what would happen if I told him what Lucius did, eh? I cannot bear looking at his son as it is, let alone if my godson knew…" Her voice broke.

Lupin said nothing.

"And Severus is his teacher," Niamh finally concluded.

"Why don't you believe he's reformed?"

"Why do you believe he has?"

"Dumbledore trusts him," Lupin answered simply.

"Well, I don't."

"Neither did Sirius," he replied. "I've always figured there was more than childhood hatred behind that."

Niamh's voice was wary. "What has he told you?"

"Very little. He refused to talk about it. The only times he said something were the times he was trying to drink himself into a stupor." He paused. "From what I heard then, I decided not to ask about it."

Hermione shot a pointed look at the four boys. Fred placed a finger on his lips.

"So what do you know?" Niamh asked.

"Your… injuries, they were easy to deduct from. The Healers told me more."

Niamh gave a short, bitter laugh.

"Why did you go, Niamh, that night?"

"Why? No reason at all." She gave another bitter laugh. "It's very simple. I made the wrong choice."