I do not own Harry Potter. Charlotte Potter is my OC.

Traumatizing Information

Charlie woke up several hours later with a dry throat, a headache and red-rimmed eyes. The sunlight streamed through the gauzy curtains, informing her that she had managed to sleep through most of the night. She rubbed at her eyes and peered around the room, warmth spreading through her chest upon spotting her friends still with her.

Her cheeks flushed as she remembered crying her heart out into Snape's robes. He hadn't seemed angry with her, and he hadn't pushed her away. His hands had merely held her shoulders as she wept, and she supposed she must have cried herself to sleep.

"You're awake!"

Charlie jumped at the excited whisper and turned around. Harry was beaming at her and he hastily elbowed Ron in the side. The redhead groaned and opened his eyes. "What time is it?"

"It's just past six but never mind the time! Charlie is awake!" Harry leaned over and hugged his sister tightly. "Are you all right?"

Charlie hugged him back and grinned wearily. "I could be better. What happened? Why did all those Dementors come on the pitch?"

"We don't know," Hermione answered sleepily. She got up from the couch and went to sit on the edge of Charlie's hospital bed. "Harry felt your fear and went right to you just as you were fainting. He tried to pull you onto his broom to safety."

"I didn't do such a great job," said Harry morosely. "Good thing Dumbledore was there. He saved you and got rid of the Dementors."

"We thought you were dead," said Ron softly.

Hermione nodded. "We were terrified!"

"I'm okay," Charlie promised. "Sort of. See, when I encounter the Dementors, I hear screaming. But this time I heard a voice. It was my mother. Pleading for my life. Screaming as she died."

Her voice wavered and Hermione gasped. She clutched Charlie's hand and gave it a tight squeeze. "Oh, Charlie! I'm so sorry."

"I suppose that's why the Dementors affect you so much and not me," said Harry quietly. "I wasn't there when our parents died."

"It's not a pleasant thing to hear," Charlie muttered. "I broke down in tears last night."

"Why didn't you wake us up?" Ron asked. "We wouldn't have minded."

"Professor Snape actually came in just as I woke up. I was still really shaken up, and I told him what happened. I couldn't help it—I just started crying. Into his robes and everything. He didn't say anything. He just let me hold him as I cried."

Ron gaped at her. "Seriously? Severus Snape? Are you sure?"

Charlie laughed. "Positive."

Harry made a face. "He's still the bat in the dungeons."

"I know he can be…well, Professor Snape," said Charlie lightly. "But I'm just glad I don't have him breathing down my neck anymore."

"He was nice to us on the pitch," Hermione spoke.

Ron thought about all the small, subtle actions the Potions professor had made towards them over the course of the year. "I suppose he's not completely horrible," he admitted reluctantly. "When we catch him in a good enough mood and don't do anything to make him go mad."

"And when he doesn't make cracks against Uncle Remus and I don't go mad," said Harry flatly.

"What happened to my broomstick?" asked Charlie.

"Oh." Ron nervously glanced at Harry. "Well...it blew away in the wind and Flitwick went to retrieve it."

"And?" Charlie prompted, feeling uneasy.

Harry rubbed the back of his neck as Hermione removed a purple satchel from underneath his chair. "It crashed into the Whomping Willow, and we all know how the Whomping Willow reacts to getting hit."

Hermione upturned the bag and dozens of splintered pieces of wood fell into Charlie's lap. "We're really sorry!"

Charlie stared in dismay at her beloved Nimbus. She picked up a piece and rubbed it between her fingers. "Let us all take a moment to remember the brilliant Nimbus Two Thousand. May he be flying in the skies elsewhere."

"Farewell," four voices said forlornly.

...

Madam Pomfrey finally allowed Charlie to leave the infirmary at the end of the weekend. There was a thought that pounded against Charlie's skull as she walked to Ravenclaw Tower. It was a detail she had forgotten to mention to her friends, and one she managed not to dwell on until now.

She had seen the Grim again.

Her eyes had fallen on the large black dog skulking along the edge of the Quidditch pitch. She had frozen, and that was when the Dementors had arrived.

It was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore Trelawney's prediction about seeing the death omen in her tea leaves.

She entered her dorm and found the purple satchel on her bedspread. Snowy gave an eager cry and wound her way around Charlie's legs. She knelt and scratched her back, running her fingers through soft white fur.

"Sorry if I scared you."

Snowy licked her hand before settling back on the pillows. Charlie dropped the remaining pieces into her trunk, not having the heart to throw them away. She combed out her hair, trying to make it somewhat presentable for dinner.

When she stepped into the Great Hall, Cedric sprang up from his table and hurried to meet her. "I'm sorry," he said regretfully. "I really wanted a rematch—"

"You won," interrupted Charlie with a smile. "I agree with Madam Hooch. You deserved the win." When Cedric still looked unhappy, Charlie added, "Besides, the season is just getting started! Ravenclaw isn't out of the running yet."

Her confidence and sincere cheer caused Cedric to relax. "We won't make it easy."

"I would be disappointed if you did," she countered.

They shook hands and Charlie went to her table, where Hermione was sitting across from Scarlet. "Hey," she greeted as she took her seat.

"Hey," said Scarlet in relief. "You're feeling okay?"

"Yeah. Better than before."

"I'm glad. You really scared us."

"I scared myself," said Charlie feelingly. "Sorry about the game."

"It wasn't your fault," said Scarlet sharply. "So don't even." She hesitated before saying, "I really hate to rush you, but I heard about your broomstick. Our next match is after Christmas. I already have pitch time booked for practices, and you can use the school brooms, but it would be best if you bought a new one. The school brooms aren't exactly current."

"I'll get on it," Charlie said. An image of the Firebolt immediately popped into her mind but she quickly dismissed the idea. A Firebolt was expensive and she still had four years left at Hogwarts.

Scarlet gave a nod of satisfaction and turned her attention to her dinner. Hermione leaned over and prodded Charlie in the shoulder. "I need to talk to you," she said in a whisper. "After we eat."

Charlie wasn't entirely hungry and ate a portion of potatoes and cooked vegetables. She was done long before Hermione and, when she was ready, the two girls left the Great Hall. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Not here," said Hermione firmly.

They approached Ravenclaw Tower, but before they could answer the riddle, the door opened. Crookshanks darted out and Charlie lunged for him. "No!" she scolded. She dragged him up the spiral stairs, wincing as he scratched at her. "Hermione, there is something weird about this cat."

"Nonsense!" Hermione exclaimed. "He just wants to get out. But since Ron is paranoid, I have to keep him cooped up in here. Someone must have let him out of our dorm." A scowl formed on her features. "It would be much easier if he just left Scabbers in his common room. Scabbers doesn't do anything. He doesn't need exercise. He—"

"What's on your mind?" Charlie asked quickly, hoping to deter her rant.

They entered the common room and claimed a pair of cushy blue chairs. Crookshanks hissed at Charlie and went to lay by Hermione's feet. The bushy-haired girl made sure no one was around before asking seriously, "Have you finished the werewolf essay Professor Snape assigned us?"

"Well, part of it," said Charlie. "It's due tomorrow, isn't it? Dang."

"Do you think you'd be able to finish it?"

Charlie stared at Hermione in surprise. "Now?"

"Please?" Hermione pleaded.

"Er, sure. Might as well."

Charlie retrieved her partly-written essay, quill and her textbook. For an hour she wrote and researched until coming to the conclusion of her essay. As she was reviewing her work, seeing her concise, structured thoughts on the ways to recognize a werewolf caused her to understand what Hermione was getting at.

"Well. That explains why Harry was furious with Professor Snape."

"So you think—"

"Remus is a werewolf? Yeah."

"I was wondering if it was just me!" Hermione let out a huff. "Do you think anyone else knows?"

"Probably not, or else they would have said something right away." Charlie frowned in disapproval. "Assigning an essay on the topic of werewolf recognition the day after a full moon, the day Remus happened to be ill. That's very underhanded of him."

"Very Slytherin," said Hermione crossly. "Professor Lupin wasn't even there to defend himself!"

"I'm sure Harry mentioned it to him."

"Explains why his Boggart is a werewolf and Professor Lupin's is a full moon," said Hermione. "Should we tell Ron?"

"I think that's Harry's place, really." She stared at her essay with growing unease. "I hope no one else is as sharp and as much of an overthinker as you."

Hermione made a face. "I'm both flattered and offended."

...

Monday arrived and the second Defense Against the Dark Arts class officially began, the students erupted into complaints about Snape's lesson and the essay he assigned. Their irritation quickly dissolved and was replaced by cheer when Remus assured them they didn't have to hand it in.

An hour passed and the bell rang. As the third-years were packing up their belongings, Remus called. "Charlotte, would you mind staying behind for a moment?"

Charlie waved Ron and Hermione ahead. When the last Gryffindor and Ravenclaw filed out of the classroom she said, "Yes, Professor?"

"Harry told me about your broomstick," said Remus with an apologetic expression. "I'm sorry."

"It lived a good life," said Charlie solemnly. "But the Whomping Willow was too much for it."

"That tree was planted when I came to Hogwarts. We used to have great fun in trying to see who could get the closest to it. But Dumbledore quickly stopped that game when someone almost lost an eye."

Charlie laughed. "The Whomping Willow hates to be bothered."

"Very much so," muttered Remus, flinching slightly at the memory of receiving the letter informing him of Harry and Ron's second-year joyride. He regarded the girl intently, who was paler than normal and her green eyes appeared to be haunted by something. "Are you okay?"

"I've been better," said Charlie honestly. "The Dementors…I just wish I knew why they affect me so much more than anyone else."

"You've been through terrible horrors, Charlie. Dementors exploit those horrors and suck out every trace of happiness and leave a dark, cold hole in your chest. How you react to them is nothing to be ashamed of."

"I know," muttered Charlie. "It's just…it's hard. Every time they come near me I relive the moment my mother dies."

Remus' body jerked and he turned around, hiding his face. Charlie looked at him in concern but before she could say anything, he shifted to look at her, his eyes heavy with emotion. "Terrible horrors, Charlie. I am sorry for what you have been going through."

"Thank you. But I'll be fine, really." She thought about the first time she saw the Dementors, and how Remus explained how he had gotten rid of the creature. "You know how to get rid of Dementors, don't you?"

"I can banish them," corrected Remus. "Dementors can't be killed."

"Can you teach me?" Charlie asked hopefully. If she was able to defend herself against the Dementors, then maybe she wouldn't have such a hard time dealing with them.

Remus hesitated before nodding slowly. "Yes, I suppose I could. But you'll have to wait until after the holidays. I have quite a lot of work to do until then."

"That's fine! Thank you!" Charlie exclaimed.

Remus' expression softened at the genuine excitement in her voice. "You're very welcome, Charlie. You ought to get on to your next class. I would hate to be blamed for making you late—I'm not entirely certain they're not allowed to give me detention."

...

"Gorgeous, as always," Charlie sighed as she stared fondly at the glittering lights and Christmas trees.

The grounds outside were coated in a thick white blanket of snow and everyone was using their precious time to build snowmen or have snowball fights. The Golden Quartet had just come inside from the frigid cold to get started on their holiday homework.

"Wicked!" Ron grinned.

"I'm freezing," muttered Harry, shoving his hands under his armpits as they wandered into the Entrance Hall. "How long until we can have hot chocolate?"

Charlie smiled. "Only a few seconds. Dobby!"

The house-elf immediately answered the summons. Hermione was always amazed that only the house-elves had the power to Apparate within Hogwarts, but she understood that house-elves had very different and stronger magic than witches and wizards.

"Hello, Charlotte Potter!" Dobby said gleefully. "Dobby hasn't seen Miss or friends in ages!"

Charlie's lips twitched, tempted to point out that she and the others had visited him in the kitchens a week ago. "Hey, Dobby. May we have some hot chocolate, please?"

"With whipped cream!" said Ron eagerly.

"And lots of marshmallows," chimed in Harry.

Dobby popped away and reappeared almost as quick, holding a tray of four mugs overflowing with marshmallows and whipped cream. "Thanks, Dobby!" Ron snatched a mug off the tray and smiled happily.

"You are very kind," Hermione added as she and Harry took their mugs.

Dobby beamed. "Dobby is a very lucky house-elf! Miss and friends are so kind to Dobby."

Charlie had tried to convince Dobby to just call her Charlie, but the house-elf seemed stuck in some old habits. "You deserve to be treated kindly, Dobby," Hermione responded, cheeks growing pink at the thought of the awful way most elves were treated.

"Thanks so much," said Charlie gratefully. "We'll need the sugar as a homework boost. I'll see you later, okay?"

They bid Dobby goodbye and headed for their respective common rooms to change out of their winter gear and collect their bags. Charlie and Hermione downed their drinks before leaving Ravenclaw Tower, knowing Madam Pince would most likely murder them for bringing beverages so close to her precious books.

"Hermione, can you help me with my Potions essay?" Ron asked as they gathered around a large oak table.

"Of course! What are you having trouble with?"

"I don't really understand the theory Snape was talking about last class."

Hermione assisted Ron while Harry and Charlie were working on their Herbology. "I've been meaning to ask," spoke Charlie as she read a passage in her textbook. "What did you feel when I fell off my broomstick?"

"A massive jolt of fear," answered Harry. "Usually your emotions are muted, but that—that was powerful."

"I was pretty terrified," muttered Charlie.

"The two of you should work on your telepathy!" said Hermione in excitement.

Charlie was uncertain. "Gee, I don't know. It can't be that simple. And the only way to know is by getting the book you used last year from the Restricted Section, and Lockhart isn't around to throw his signature at you without questions."

Hermione pursed her lips. "I suppose you're right. I should have taken notes. Stupid me."

The days before Christmas vacation dwindled and the four finished up their holiday homework before the next scheduled Hogsmeade visit. Since Charlie was unable to go, she gave Hermione her Christmas shopping list and some money.

The corridors, as they usually were during Hogsmeade visits, were empty. Charlie headed in the direction of Remus' office, swinging her arms at her sides as the disappointment of once again being left by her friends weighed down on her.

"I really wish I was in Hogsmeade right now," Charlie said wistfully.

"Why not?"

Charlie yelped in surprise when the Weasley twins emerged from behind a statue. "Don't scare me like that!"

"But it's fun," said Fred with a snicker.

"How long were you waiting there?"

"Just a few minutes. Ron said you were going to spend time with Big Lupin while the rest of us had a jolly old time in Hogsmeade."

"Not you," said Charlie with a raised brow. "How come you're not at Hogsmeade?"

"We've come to give you an early Christmas present," Fred said cheerfully. George removed an old piece of parchment from underneath his cloak and held it out.

Charlie accepted it with confusion. "Thanks. Um...what is it?"

"It's how we manage to pull all our pranks without getting caught in the action," said George with a wide grin. "We don't need it anymore. We've memorized it inside and out."

"Just touch your wand to the parchment and say, 'I solemnly swear I am up to no good'," instructed Fred.

Charlie obeyed and was astounded when inky black lines curled over the parchment, expanding until it showed a full map of Hogwarts, complete with secret passages and dots that represented where everyone in the castle was, teachers and students alike.

"Wow! Where did you get this?"

"Fred and I were in Filch's office in our first year. He left us when Peeves was causing a ruckus." Fred shook his head sadly. "Poor bloke didn't know any better at the time. We found a drawer titled Highly Dangerous and of course we investigated."

"It took a while to figure out how it worked, but we managed it in the end," said George cheerfully. "The map was very helpful. It gave us clues."

"Who are the Marauders?" Charlie asked, gesturing towards the green ink at the top of the map that displayed the names of the creators. Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs were odd choices for codenames.

"We don't know," Fred sighed. "I wish we could have met them, though. This map is brilliant!"

"Anyway, there are seven passages in total that lead to Hogsmeade. These four are the ones Filch knows about, so of course he boarded them up," George explained, indicting each one as he spoke. "This one is caved in. I wouldn't use this one; the Whomping Willow is planted directly over it. But this leads into the cellar of Honeydukes."

"Make sure you wipe the map when you're finished with it. Just tap it with your wand and say 'mischief managed'," Fred advised.

"Your Christmas present to a Ravenclaw is a map to help her break the rules," Charlie clarified.

"We're hoping to corrupt you. Is it working?" Fred asked hopefully.

Charlie stared at the map for a moment. The desire to go to Hogsmeade with her friends was strong. She bit her bottom lip, having an internal debate. All Flitwick said was that he didn't want her wandering around after dark, and it was currently daylight. Mr. Weasley had asked her not to go looking for Sirius Black, and she had no intentions of doing so. Nobody really explicitly forbade her from going to Hogsmeade.

If the Sorting Hat could hear your poor Slytherin logic, it would probably be appalled for ever thinking you'd make a great Snake.

"Yes, it has," she said with a smile. "Thank you."

"Don't thank us," said Fred with a wide grin. "Just use it to its fullest potential."

They clapped her on the shoulder as they left. Charlie studied the map before taking a deep breath and going to her common room. She grabbed her Invisibility Cloak and slipped it over her body. She followed the map and found herself standing in front of one-eyed witch statue.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," she whispered.

She hesitantly pushed the statue, but it didn't move. Her eyes flicked down to the map to see her tiny figure speaking a password and tapping the statue with her wand. Bewildered, Charlie copied the actions and the hump of the witch moved, creating a hole for her to climb into.

This thing is genius.

She dropped down and gave a yip as she was carried down a slide. She tumbled to the ground, her Cloak falling off. She quickly seized it and shrugged it back on. She lifted her wand and whispered, "Lumos!"

Her wand tip lit and Charlie stared down the narrow earthy passage. She wiped the map clean and slipped it back in her robes before starting her trek. It seemed to take forever before she finally stumbled out of a trap door, panting heavily and her feet aching. She looked around the cellar and felt her heartbeat pickup.

I am going to be in so much trouble if I get caught.

But the desire to have fun with her friends overrode her conscience. She approached the cellar door and cautiously inched it open. When she was sure there was no one in her way, she stepped fully into Honeydukes and was immediately greeted with sugary smells.

A wide grin spread across her face as she looked around the store. Bright packaging filled the shelves and Hogwarts students milled about, talking and laughing. She spotted the twins rummaging through a bin of Ice Mice and approached them.

"You did not tell me that passageway took forever," she said as she took off her Cloak, bundling it under her robes.

George beamed. "You made it!"

"Some pain must be endured for the greater things," Fred replied. "Isn't it worth it?"

"At the moment, yes."

"My brother is over there with Hermione and Harry, in case you missed them." Fred pointed to the other side of the store where her friends were browsing the shelves. "Have fun!"

"I will. Thanks again!"

Charlie went up to her friends, who were discussing what treats to bring back for her. "She loves Chocolate Frogs," mused Hermione.

"Yeah, but she eats them all the time," said Harry with a frown. "What about something different?"

"How about one of those blood-flavoured lollipops?" Ron suggested.

"That can't be a thing," said Charlie in horror.

Her friends whirled around and gasped when they saw her. "What are you doing here?" Hermione cried.

Charlie told them about the twins giving her the Marauder's Map and what it could do. Ron scowled. "How come they never told me about it? Honestly!"

"You shouldn't be here!" Hermione wailed. "And you should hand that map in to Professor Flitwick or Professor Dumbledore! What if Sirius Black is using one of the passages to get into the school?"

"Well, this is the only one he'd be able to use," said Charlie. "Fred and George told me Filch closed the four he knew about, and the Whomping Willow blocks one, and the other one is caved in."

Ron pointed to a sign hanging on the door, informing those who read it that Dementors patrolled the village past nightfall. "We're in the clear, Hermione!"

"Come on, Hermione." Harry grinned. "Black wouldn't even think of attacking here. There are far too many people—even for him!"

"He killed thirteen people," said Hermione crossly. "I doubt he'll care about two hundred more." But her friends were staring pleadingly at her and she sighed. "Fine! But I hope you understand what risks you're taking."

"I know it's stupid, but I just need a break," said Charlie.

"Of course you do," said Ron with a nod. "Come on, let's buy some sweets!"

Hermione handed Charlie her Christmas shopping list and her money and they browsed the shelves. Charlie mentally checked off her Christmas list and was delighted when she found a store that sold a variety of socks.

"Dobby will love these!"

"Won't you set him free by giving him clothes?" asked Ron curiously.

"We don't exactly have a traditional relationship. Besides, it's a gift."

She found some socks and paid for them. They entered the chilly winter landscape and Harry pointed towards the Three Broomsticks. "They sell Butterbeer," he informed. "I don't know about you guys, but I want one."

"Let's go," said Ron with a grin.

They entered the pub and Ron went to collect their drinks. The other three grabbed a booth in the very back and Harry sighed as warmth engulfed him. "This is great."

"I love it here," Charlie said happily.

Ron came over with four tankards of frothy Butterbeer. As they drank, they made idle chatter. The door chimed as it opened and each time Charlie instinctively looked over her shoulder to see who was entering. On the tenth ring she nearly choked on her Butterbeer.

Hagrid, Flitwick, McGonagall and Cornelius Fudge entered the Three Broomsticks in a flurry of snow. They were deep in conversation and were also moving in their direction.

"Oh Merlin," breathed Harry, also noticing.

"Evasive manoeuvre!" Charlie hissed.

Hermione shot a glance at the group of adults as she levitated a large Christmas tree to block them from view. They held their breath as they walked by without a word, sitting the next booth. Charlie let out a silent sigh of relief.

"Good thinking," Harry whispered.

Hermione pressed a finger to her lips.

"Minister Fudge, it's good to see you," a woman's voice said.

"Hello, Rosmerta. Why don't you join us?" Fudge invited.

"Thank you! I'd be happy to," Rosmerta answered. There was rustling as she settled down against the material of the booth. "What brings you here?"

"Sirius Black, of course. I'm sure you heard what happened at Hogwarts on Halloween. I'm certain he's still in the area."

Hermione shot Charlie a frightened glance.

"I still can't believe Sirius Black would have ever gone to the Dark side," Rosmerta sighed. "I remember when he was at Hogwarts. He was the most charming boy I'd ever met. A little devil, mind you, but it was mostly harmless fun. I never thought he could be capable of murdering all those people."

"And to think, that is not even the highest point of his cruelty," Fudge said gravely.

"What do you mean?" Rosmerta asked.

"Do you know how James and Lily died?" McGonagall questioned softly.

"Only bits and pieces," admitted Rosmerta. "It's really just myths and rumours I've heard, and I put no stock in those."

"You remember who James' best friend was?"

"Of course I do! I used to have them in here all the time. They made me laugh, Sirius Black and James Potter."

Charlie pressed her fingers against her mouth to keep herself from gasping in surprise. Oh, I am not going to like how this story is going to go.

"Their gang was known for wreaking havoc around the castle," Flitwick recalled fondly. "Black and Potter were the ringleaders, of course. The two of them were inseparable."

"They trusted their lives to each other," McGonagall said bitterly. "Black was the best man when James married Lily and he was named Charlotte's godfather."

Rosmerta was stricken. "She doesn't know?"

"O' course not!" said Hagrid strongly.

"She already has to deal with the fact he wants to kill her," said Flitwick grimly. "That would be far too much."

"Dumbledore knew You-Know-Who was going after the Potters," said Fudge heavily. "The man seemed to know exactly where You-Know-Who would strike and when, but sometimes we never acted quickly enough. Anyway, Dumbledore warned the Potters and suggested they use the Fidelius Charm."

"What's that?" Rosmerta asked curiously.

"The Fidelius Charm is a complex and powerful charm that takes a specific piece of information, which would be the secret, and implants it into a being's soul. The one whose soul houses the secret is known as the Secret-Keeper. The only way anyone could know where the Potters would be hiding was if the Secret-Keeper himself divulged it to You-Know-Who. You cannot gain the information any other way," Flitwick explained.

"Of course, James chose Black to be their Secret-Keeper," McGonagall said. "But Dumbledore was worried about this. He offered to be the Secret-Keeper instead but James trusted Black more than anyone else."

"Dumbledore knew Black would betray them?" Rosmerta asked in awe.

"The man knew something was wrong. He suspected someone close to James was revealing information to You-Know-Who. And he was right. Barely a week after the charm was put into place did Black betray the location to You-Know-Who and the Potters were attacked," said McGonagall sadly. "When he discovered Charlotte Potter defeated him, Black went into a rage. We're all very lucky Hagrid got to Charlotte before he did."

"He was holdin' her," said Hagrid shakily. "He actually tried teh take Charlie away! Offered teh take her in! I never knew he was their Secret-Keeper an' he was in a right state. I comforted him! An' all that time he was tryin' teh find a way teh kill Charlie!"

He broke into sobs and McGonagall said sternly, "Calm down, Hagrid! None of us could have known what Black would do."

"I never knew why he gave up his beloved motorbike that night. Now I know it was 'cause the bike was teh easy teh trace!" Hagrid slammed his fist onto the table.

"Well, it's a good thing the Ministry caught up with Black the next day," Rosmerta said optimistically.

"Yes, but it's a shame we didn't get there in time," Fudge sighed. "Peter Pettigrew got there first. He was a part of Potter's gang. He followed them around like a little puppy. He adored James and Black. He must have been devastated when he found out Black betrayed Lily and James. He cornered him in the public square."

"Foolish boy!" McGonagall said thickly. "He was hopeless at duelling. I always pushed him so hard."

"He died a hero's death," Fudge said kindly. "Of course, he did this in front of Muggles and we had to wipe the memories of those who survived. He went for his wand but Black beat him to it. The only thing left of Peter was his finger."

"Do you think Black will try to rejoin his master?" Rosmerta questioned.

"I believe that's his eventual plan. But it's clear he has his sights on Charlotte Potter."

"He won't get his hands on her," said McGonagall fiercely.

"We won't allow it!" said Flitwick shakily.

"I'll face Black myself if I have teh," said Hagrid thickly.

They fell into chatter that was nonconsequential as far as Charlie was concerned. She sat still, shock coursing through her veins and tears spilling down her cheeks. Ron grabbed her hand, his expression scared and distressed. Harry ducked his head down, his shoulders trembling.

It seemed to be forever before the group left, leaving the kids alone once more in the corner. Hermione leaned forwards and asked anxiously, "Charlie, I—I don't know what to say. I'm so sorry. It's horrible."

"He's my godfather," she breathed. "And he's the reason my dad, his best friend, and my mom are dead."

He's my godfather. And he's trying to kill me.