The Horse

by Elsa2

Looking after a Muggle animal should be easy compared to saving Hogwarts from Voldemort. Harry and Draco might disagree with that. Featuring Luna, Marauders, peppermints and, of course, a tall, black, badtempered horse named Simon.

100. Chapter 100

Disclaimer: The Hogwarts world belongs to JK Rowling. I'm merely passing through on a visitor's pass.

ooOOoo

Chapter 100

Harry picked at his dessert (the house elves had managed to make ginger custard and plum cake work together) and tried to ignore Hermione complaining about the declining standards of education. To hear her, Voldemort had been replaced by lack of proper assessment. He didn't want to talk to Luna, and she might have sensed that because she was nowhere to be seen in the Hall. Neither was Draco, but there had been some issue down in the Dungeons which had also taken away Bulstrode and three of the seventh years. Trudi, over there with a chattering flock of Ravenclaws, appeared relaxed and happy, which meant Draco was neither in trouble nor causing it. (For once.)

Tuesday. Everyone was leaving on Tuesday. Some were leaving sooner than others. Simon, for example. He'd be leaving tomorrow. Harry threw down his fork and left – he wasn't hungry. All the visitors had been shooed away from Hogwarts. It should be safe for him to go to the Quidditch pitch.

It wasn't Remus who found him out there but Sirius. Without a word, he sat down next to Harry. They sat there in silence until it started to rain, and Sirius put up an umbrella spell.

"Still haven't given that wand back?" Harry asked. His voice was a touch on the rough side. It felt like he'd been yelling, which was unfair as he'd been doing his best to keep his temper all day.

Sirius shrugged his broad shoulders philosophically. "Nobody's asked for it. So how was it for you, meeting Robert Python?"

"Good. Right up to the bit where Dumbledore told him to take Simon away."

Sirius sighed and looked away at the Hufflepuff pennants which were sliding wet and sullen in the breeze with a similar sound to the silken swish of Simon's tail.

"Did you know Luna's uncle was a Death Eater?" Harry asked.

"No. I never thought much about her family – not beyond her father's wonderfully iconoclastic paper. But I never would have pegged her as coming from a family of Dark wizards."

"Neither did I."

They sat and listened to the rain splattering on the shield for a while.

"I'm sorry I had to leave you standing up on the hill like that," Harry said. "You know. That night."

"Dumbledore took the illusion off quick enough. I think I make a very handsome Simon, if it's any consolation."

Harry choked out a laugh. "Now you even smell the same."

"Yes. He nicked half a bottle of my shampoo. So much for my late, late, late birthday present from Remus."

"Thought you smelt a bit, uh, erm..."

"Erm good, or erm bad?"

"Erm weird, as a matter of fact. Sorry."

"Don't worry; I can cope with erm weird if it means not having fleas. Really hate fleas, but I'm allergic to most potions to get rid of them. And… I'm sorry, too. I betrayed you."

"I know you were only trying to protect me."

"Yeah, because I do that so well…"

"At least you try." Harry had to admit that, although it nearly choked him.

Sirius' head dipped. "You know the Muggles have a saying about good intentions and where they lead?"

"Where?"

"I'm starting to think the bottom of a bottle of Firewhiskey for me," he muttered. "But no, it's meant to be 'the road to Hell is paved with good intentions.'"

"You know, that explains a lot… And I'm sure I've heard it before."

"It's a common issue. I'd be surprised if you hadn't." Sirius looked like he was trying to smile, but his face was drawn. In his case the road had taken a long detour through Hell in its wizarding incarnation of Azkaban. "I hear you might be off to America for the summer. Is that true?"

Harry toed the seat he was resting his feet on. "I've got a standing invitation. I think Dumbledore would like me to take it up."

"He's worried about you."

Harry pushed out his lower lip. "He doesn't have to be."

"You and Simon both have a lot of enemies now. That has him very worried. He wants you to be safe."

"But we both have a lot of friends. Doesn't that count for anything?"

"You know it does." Sirius tilted his head back.

Eventually the rain eased.

"Want to come up and see Simon with me?"

"Yeah, okay. I won't miss having my leg broken, but, Merlin help me, I will miss that horse."

"Yeah."

ooOOoo

The Horse is pleased to see them. He doesn't expect conversation, certainly not at this end of a busy day/week/month, simply company. The Horse's Black Colt and Sleepy Monkeystallion are unusually quiet, although their bodies bristle with comment. There is tension and sadness, much of the latter directed at The Horse. It is a strange day that The Competent One, The One at the Centre of All Circles, should come and The Horse's Black Colt should become sad. The horse rests his muzzle on the shoulder of The Horse's Black Colt, bares his teeth and presses them gently against the soft cloth/coat to remind him that his The Horse is here and strong and watchful against any and all Monsters in the Night, even though there are none in the world at this time. Sleepy Monkeystallion rests a forefoot on the other shoulder and The Horse's Black Colt breathes out a great gust of tension and rests his cheek against The Horse's jaw and his shoulders ease.

They are quiet, but much is said.

ooOOoo

Back in the castle, on the way to Gryffindor Tower, Luna finally caught up with him. After returning from the paddock and leaving Snuffles with Remus, Harry hadn't been happy but he'd been calm. Now the sight of Luna made his blood rise uncomfortably. Later he thought that if he'd been less tired, more rational, he could have dealt with the situation better.

"Harry…"

He kept walking.

"Harry…" Luna ran after him and caught his arm.

"Don't." He shook his head. "Just… don't."

"Harry…"

Harry grimaced. He couldn't have this conversation out in the open. He pulled her into an alcove. "Your uncle was a Death Eater, wasn't he."

He finally looked her in the face. She was very pale. Her lip, where she was biting it, was white. With her pale hair and eyes she looked almost like a ghost.

"Wasn't he."

Finally, she nodded. "Yes. But –"

"– But you didn't tell me. All this time, I've been looking after Simon, waiting for him to be reclaimed by a Death Eater."

She shook her head. Her lank hair flew and tried to settle over her face until she pushed it back behind her ears. "No – Simon won't be taken back by a Death Eater. He –"

"– Only because Dumbledore's sending him away! All that talk about keeping him away from Lucius Malfoy is rot. He's not the real Death Eater I should have been worried about. Your uncle is the true reason I can't keep Simon at Hogwarts, isn't he? Well? Isn't he?"

Luna stared into his face. Finally, she whispered, as if this was the most terrible secret she owned, "Yes. He is. But… my uncle… he…"

"So who is he? Mulciber? Travers? No – I'm sure I'd've heard if it was anyone high-profile. Were you hoping he'd come and pick you up from school?"

Luna was shaking her head. "He's not… coming back to the school now… because he's…" She gulped, her eyes darting around in case anyone, students, staff, ghosts or portraits, might be listening. She clutched at her hair, digging her fingers hard against her scalp, her shoulders hunched and angular and shaking. "No, Harry – his name is… he's –"

Dumbledore's request for Harry to give Luna another chance vanished from his mind. "Stop." Harry sliced a hand through the air, cutting her short, making her jump. "No. Don't tell me his name. I don't want to know. I don't want to know anything about your uncle. The next thing you'll tell me is that he was one of those who had something to do with killing my parents –"

Luna looked absolutely stricken, as if she might faint. Her hands fell limp against her sides. The tension they'd been trying to restrain hadn't gone, merely been transformed into something that might have been despair. "Harry…"

And with that soft exhalation of his name, he knew he'd guessed correctly. Rocked, Harry had to lean back against the wall. He covered his face with his hands. "Oh. Right. Not the sort of thing you can casually drop into a conversation with your boyfriend, is it?"

There was a small noise. Harry dropped his hands. He was just in time to see one, two fat tears spill over her eyelids, leaving gleaming trails down her cheeks. She didn't seem to notice. Her hands still hung bonelessly, as if she'd forgotten they had purpose in the world.

"No," she said in a voice so small it could have belonged to a mouse. "It wasn't."

Harry could only nod.

"Harry…?"

"Go away."

She left before he had to tell her again.

Harry slumped down the wall until he was sitting on the stones, and crossed his arms over his head. First Simon, now Luna. How could he have won the war and forfeited that which he'd thought solid?

ooOOoo

He was so angry that it took him hours to get to sleep. He tried to make himself drowsy by reading his new copy of The Horse Mutterer, but the section he'd chosen was about setting realistic boundaries, which made him think of Sirius, which made him think of Simon, which, in turn, led on to Luna… When he finally did, it was to plunge into fragmented dreams, bits of stories where people shouted and his friends bet his life on the roll of a die and cliffs crumbled and Simon fled and however many darts he threw that tree would not die.

He dreamed of an eclipse.

He'd dreamed of eclipses before, and at first it was a comfort after all the shouting and falling and grief and frustration clenching his chest to find himself back with something verging on the familiar.

But then he realised that this one differed markedly to the usual eclipse. Instead of the rim of the sun glimpsed around the dark disk of the moon that became the limned eye of a frightened horse, in this eclipse it was the world which cast the moon into shadow.

The pure silvery lunar light dulled into the dark red of old blood, and when the shadow of the world moved away, all light went with it and the sky was dark and dead with the corpses of stars.

Harry woke up to discover his cheeks were wet.

ooOOoo

Harry's mood didn't improve overnight and only worsened through Monday morning. Everything was making him annoyed now – nothing to do with Voldemort. This was the frustration at being kept outside Luna's range of trust. Even taking Simon out for an early morning ride with Draco didn't help. Simon, picking up on Harry's mood, twitched his head when a swallow flickered down over his head at the very moment Harry pulled the headstrap forward over Simon's ears.

Harry was so cross he wasn't paying proper attention and nearly poked Simon's eye out with his thumb.

"Watch it, Potter," Draco scolded. "When you read the future in the flight of swallows you're supposed to work out if leaders are about to get assassinated and important whatnot like that; you're not meant to get auguring down to fine details, such as someone losing an eye, and then turn it into a self-fulfilling prophecy."

"Hey, he moved." Harry sighed and reined in his temper, hearing an embarrassing amount of petulance in his own voice. "Sorry," he said to a miffed Simon, who was blinking hard. "That was clumsy of me."

"Yeah. He's a horse. He's allowed to move his head at random, especially when a bird flies across his nose. Doesn't mean some disturbed young wizard has the right to go around blinding him for it."

Worried now, Harry asked, "Do you think I hurt him?"

Simon was investigating the bag of brushes for apples. Draco pulled his head up. "I think he's fine."

"Good. Hey – since when was I a disturbed young wizard?"

Draco smirked in his best 'you'd better pray I never become a psychiatrist' manner. "Shall I write down a timeline?"

"Don't. It would have to start before I was born, what with all the time travel," Harry said, finally managing to smile. Simon was fine. Draco was harassing him. Life was normal. People were keeping him in the dark on significant issues and making key decisions in his life for him such as (to take a random example) sending his horse across the ocean. The smile faded. "You don't seem too upset about losing Simon. You, ah, you do know about that, don't you?"

Harry really should have told him, but Draco had skipped dinner last night and Harry hadn't wanted a row while working Simon.

"I do – Dumbledore told me. And I'm not upset because I'm not losing him. He's going to America, not the moon. He'll be safer there than in Britain. I don't mind if Rob borrows him for a while," he said magnanimously. "Just until I've got things sorted out here. Simon'll be safer than if Gringotts had him in a special vault. The Americans have loads of wards up to filter Dark wizards out from the rest of the travellers – comes from living next door to all those cannibalistic warlocks in Canada, I guess. And Montana is ancient shaman territory with the sort of animal magic that goes down to the bedrock – it's about as safe it gets for a horse like Simon. Come on, Potter, you must know that. Besides, aren't you going to stay there with him? I expect if you want to move over there one day they'd welcome you – and sooner or later it'll be safe enough for us to bring him home to Britain. Sooner, one hopes."

Harry didn't answer. Yes, he knew Draco was right, although his optimism wasn't quite up to the Slytherin's. The safe time to bring Simon back to the UK was definitely going to be later unless Lucius met with a terminal accident and put the world out of its misery, but it still felt like losing his horse. "Aren't you going over, too?"

"If I can. But Luna will be there to look after him."

"Yeah. Her and her Death Eater family."

"As opposed to my Death Eater family?" But Draco took pity on him. "Come on, Potter. It's just Luna. You know she has her own take on the world; it barely overlaps with normal reality at the best of times. Besides, one Death Eater isn't representative of the totality, and there are Death Eaters and Death Eaters… not all of them were psychopathic murderers." He seemed to be biting off another sentence to follow that – Harry assumed it was something to do with Sirius.

"I guess," Harry said sullenly, tying Simon's leadrope to the twine on the post. He pushed the end of the slipknot through the fence so Simon wouldn't be able to reach it. "Did you know that her uncle was a Death Eater? Because you know who her uncle is, don't you? You said once that you'd never seen him as the sort to own a horse."

Draco handed him a brush then turned over a bucket and sat down. It looked like Harry would be the one doing the work. No change there. "Yes. I know who he was. He's dead. I told you that, too."

"Oh." Harry had forgotten that. Part of him cringed as he remembered the terrible things he'd said to Luna last night. "Yes. You did."

"…And it's about time you learned to do research yourself rather than relying on Granger all your life." Harry scowled at him until Draco shrugged and changed the subject. "That Robert Python was amazing, wasn't he?"

"Yeah." Harry set to work. The motion was familiar now, soothing. He brushed harder where the saddle had been, intent on getting the black coat lying smooth again, buffing away the last of the sweat marks.

"I don't know why you're complaining about Simon going to America. I would have thought you'd be dancing for joy. Mind you, I've seen you dance," he sniffed.

"Mm." Harry ignored the insult. Hard to deny something so patently obvious as his dire performance at the Yule Ball. But he didn't know why he wasn't more pleased by Python's offer. Logically, it was the best option for Simon. But…

"Better do his feet."

"Why don't you?"

"I'm busy."

"Busy sitting on your arse."

"I'll have you know I'm keeping an eye on Simon to make sure he doesn't untie himself, eat all the apples, and die of stomach-ache. Important job, this."

Harry shook his head. "Just pass the hoofpick…"

Draco was right. Montana was the best place for Simon.

But it didn't mean Harry had to like it.

ooOOoo

Dobby found him on the way back from the paddock with a message from Dumbledore. Dobby had probably found him some time before he left the paddock, but the house elf preferred to avoid Draco. Cornelius Fudge, holding onto the reins of government by the skin of his teeth (Tonks had already hinted that Kingsley Shacklebolt would be in power in the next two months), had come to the Headmaster's Office, lime green bowler hat in hand, to beg Dumbledore to release Harry into Ministry custody rather than leave him to his own devices. Harry, dragged up to Dumbledore's office at the tail end of this visit, had been pleased to have Dumbledore point out that as soon as Harry turned seventeen he would be free to choose wherever he wanted to live.

"But… we – the Ministry – we can hide you in a safe place –"

"Thank you, Minister, but I'll be making my own arrangements."

Fudge grimaced out a smile that managed to be desperate and patronising all at once. "You won't be seventeen for another month, Harry…"

Harry gritted his teeth and forced himself to stay calm despite the pounding in his temples and the red tint that the world had suddenly melted into. "It's only a month. If the Ministry forces the issue then I will be making a statement to the papers that it is trying to capitalise on the work of myself and my friends. I will be making my own arrangements!"

Fudge went purple at this point and Harry was sent on his way by Dumbledore, glad to be gone, because he was shaking and ready to curse anyone in his way, and he'd had a nasty vision of the Minister as a more cunning version of Vernon Dursley, and he didn't trust himself not to hex the current leader of the British Wizarding World.

Tired and feeling unaccountably bruised, he went for a nap before lunch. It was easier than spending the rest of the morning avoiding politicians or listening to everyone talk about going home to their families. Once he put up a silencing spell on his curtains he didn't have to listen to the excited burble of his dormitory mates packing.

Harry slept for an hour before he woke up, sweating. He got up and wandered into the bathroom. It hadn't been one of those awful nightmares he'd had through his scar from Voldemort, but it had been nasty enough.

In the dream he'd been angry. So angry he couldn't speak. He'd been up at the paddock with Simon and Simon kept untying himself. Harry had been furious with the horse, taken the bridle and hit Simon across the head with it. Simon galloped away and Harry spent the rest of the dream pursuing him, knowing he'd been unutterably stupid, hating himself and worried sick Simon would run into the Forest. He'd chased the horse for hours, it seemed, always seeing Simon in the distance, never able to reach him no matter how fast he ran because his feet were weighed down, and finally waking with the horror of seeing Draco load Simon into a van and drive him away.

Now that he was awake it was obviously just a dream. Draco would never drive a van.

But Harry felt terrible for hitting Simon, even in a dream.

He threw cold water into his face and leaned on his elbows, feeling the porcelain cold and slick under his arms, eyes closed as the water dripped off his nose and chin. Admit it to yourself, Harry – Montana is the best place for him. And it could be the best summer in my life, spending it over there. I'd be learning about horses from a master. I'd be overseas for the first time in my life! All these good things.

Luna will be there.

Luna…

Luna, thinking about all the horrible things I said to her.

So why was I angry at Simon in my dream? Maybe it wasn't Simon I was mad at. Not Simon I took out my temper on. Maybe it was…

…Luna. The lunar eclipse.

Oh, Merlin… she was trying to tell me something incredibly important, the biggest secret she has, and I…

I hexed her out of the sky.

He realised his head was starting to hurt because he was digging his fingers into his scalp. Just like Luna had done, she'd been so upset.

Have I lost Luna? I have. I am the world's biggest –

Fwoosh!

If it was Rita Skeeter he'd commit murder and there would be a new ghost to haunt a Hogwarts toilet.

"Hi, Harry!"

Harry had never counted to ten this fast. "Colin, how many times do I have to tell you not to take photos of me in the bathroom?"

"Oh. Right. Well, my parents have come to get me – me and Dennis are leaving early, so we'll miss all the fun tomorrow! I just came to say goodbye. See you after summer, Harry!"

"Oh. Well. Bye, Colin. Have a good summer."

Funny how Colin leaving can make me feel sad. I must be mad. I suppose I'd better get a better psychiatrist than Doctor Draco.

Harry dressed slowly. He hadn't quite missed lunch, but most of the good food was gone, as were most of the students by the time he made it down to the bottom of the stairs. He passed Justin and Dean in the Entrance Hall. They were arguing. Dean broke off to join Harry on his way into the Hall.

"We're breaking up," Dean grumbled.

"What? Already?"

"Suddenly he likes Hannah Abbot. So much for Hufflepuff loyalty, the tosser."

"Oh. Sorry." Harry decided not to tell him that perhaps it was the thrill of a forbidden romance that had held the two together for so long. Besides, why should anyone else be happy in love? Change of topic… "I keep forgetting to thank you for those wrestling moves you taught me. Been really useful."

Dean goggled at him. "Don't tell me you used the headlock on Voldemort?"

"Nah. Not quite."

"Malfoy?"

"No. You wouldn't believe me." Putting a successful headlock on a young Severus Snape on two separate occasions would probably be lauded throughout Gryffindor, but Harry didn't want to stir up Slytherin/Gryffindor tensions now that there was a cease-fire.

"I'd better not tell Luna – she might use it on you."

Harry clenched his teeth and forced his face into a smile. There was a good chance it made him look like Fudge, however.

They joined Ron and Ginny.

Ginny smiled at Harry, her face bright. "Neville and I have been talking to Luna," Ginny began. "Did you know that she –?"

Harry managed to completely ignore the smile as he made a snap decision she must be about to take him to task for being nasty to Luna. "I don't want to know anything about bloody Luna," Harry snarled, feeling his face heat with a mixture of embarrassment and fury.

Ginny flung her hair over her shoulder. "Fine. Be a prat." She flounced off, leaving Harry feeling even worse. Now he was driving his friends away.

Ron sighed. "You do know that we're leaving this evening?" he asked.

Harry scowled down at the table. He knew they were leaving. He also knew he was behaving like a troll with a sore tooth and had no right to take out his problems on poor Ginny, and not only because Poor Ginny was a sorceress who might be able to turn him inside-out without a wand, but because Ginny obviously hadn't been about to give him a hard time after all… or not until Harry demonstrated yet again how he was a complete idiot. "Yes."

"Got Sirius problems again?"

"No."

"Going to stop being a surly git any time soon?"

"No."

Ron gave up and he and Dean followed Ginny to another table, leaving Harry alone.

Everyone was leaving. Leaving the table. Leaving the Hall to go and pack and swap owl-mail addresses with friends. Leaving Hogwarts.

Simon's going to leave this evening. I can't believe it. I know I'm welcome any time, but America? It's so far. I won't be able to stroll up to the paddock to see him. Yeah, the Dursleys barely tolerated Hedwig and wouldn't have allowed a horse through the front door, but if I was going to be with Sirius –

A hand rested gingerly on his shoulder, not quite sure of its welcome. "Harry."

"Sirius!" Finally, someone who didn't hate him. Maybe if Harry kept his temper under control for ten minutes he might keep Sirius from running away, too. Harry moved sideways on the bench, giving his godfather space to sit. "Seems a bit weird not having you sitting under the table scrounging all the good bits of steak from the firsties."

Sirius grinned, face relaxing into hints of pre-Azkaban laughter lines when Harry didn't shun him. Not that Harry wanted to – for some reason Harry couldn't define he was angry with just about everyone, but not Sirius. That quiet time up with Simon last night had given him the space he'd needed for Sirius, a quiet acceptance of the fallibility of his godfather and the balance where Harry was strong enough to cope with this. Sirius was deeply flawed. But he was family. Harry really needed family right now.

Sirius reached for a roll and stuffed it with ham, avocado, potato salad, a slice of chicken, beetroot chutney, pineapple chunks, orange segments and a spoonful of mustard. Harry was hard pressed not to ask if Sirius was pregnant.

"Yeah. You can get away with it as a dog. Bit dodgy as a bloke." Sirius gave a nod to the scar-faced Auror witch as she escorted yet another Ministry flunky through the Hall.

Harry admired the way she diverted the man's attention away from the fact that he was in the same room as Famous Harry Potter. "Nice to be able to put your own meal together, too?" he asked.

Sirius beamed with pride at his culinary masterpiece. "Glad to have pineapple and avocados back at Hogwarts. We're getting all sorts of food now – a box of mangoes was sent in by Trudi Ricci's family for her favourite werewolf, but that greedy sod Remus isn't sharing."

It sounded like there'd been a row over that. "Remus likes mangoes?"

"After chocolate they're his favourite food. I wonder if there's such a thing as mango-flavoured chocolate? He'd have joined the Death Eaters if Voldemort had offered him a mango. Or a really big bar of chocolate."

"Hmm." Now that he wanted a truce with Remus, finding him some mango-flavoured chocolate could be a good peace offering from Harry. He leaned his chin on his hands and stared across the Hall. Where was Remus? At his elbow, Sirius made small scoffing noises as he gulped – 'wolfed' might be more appropriate – down his lunch. Spending so much time in dog form had affected his table manners, but at least he didn't talk with his mouth full and bits spilling out of it like Seamus was doing over there with Dean – they seemed to have made up their differences, and both of them were giving Justin Finch-Fletchley the evil eye. It could be that Seamus' issues with Dean being gay stemmed from jealousy, but there was no way in a million years Harry would ever suggest that to Seamus. He had enough relationship troubles of his own to start playing marriage guidance counsellor. "Speaking of Death Eaters, Wormtail walking, talking and trying to smarm his way out of trouble should be a hint that you didn't murder him. So are you off to the Ministry today?"

"Mm. I finally get that trial I was wanting for Christmas."

"Wow, and I wanted a pony." Harry had meant that to be amusing, but it came out bitter. "Sorry – I'm really pleased they're finally looking into your case. And letting you stay somewhere other than Azkaban – that's a step up, although Kreacher won't see it that way. Dumbledore won't let them get away with sweeping you under the rug twice. It's handy they've got Wormtail, isn't it?"

Sirius shook his hair back. "True. Thanks to you and Malfoy. I hear Cousin Cissy was involved, too. That's the weirdest bit."

Harry shrugged. "Voldemort threatened Draco as a baby – he remained a threat, for that matter. She wasn't going to let that stand." The Hall was nearly empty – one benefit of his bad temper was having a wide circle of empty seats open up around him. Nevertheless, he spoke quietly.

"Ah. Well. Those three girls always were a bit unstable. Andromeda was the nicest, but I lost touch with her after she left Hogwarts and married that Muggle-born bloke. Big scandal in the family, that was, but, well, those girls…"

"Tonks' mum? I guess it would have been a bit of a shock to the Pureblood fanatics."

Sirius leaned back against the table, picked up an apple and began to peel it with a small knife and an intense stare at the peel as it wound between his fingers. "Don't let Narcissa's alliance with you against the Dark Lord fool you – she's a Pureblood fanatic to the core. All of them are more than a bit obsessi- bugger!"

The strand of peel had broken.

Harry grinned. "Nothing fanatical running in the family, nope."

Sirius didn't smile. His face was tight. He picked up another apple. This time the sinuous line of peel looped and fell unbroken as the green skin was peeled away. Sirius bit into the white flesh with a sigh of relief. "Thank Merlin. Last time I sat at this table and peeled an apple for luck and didn't do it properly I lost the Quidditch match. I thought I'd be back in Azkaban before sunset…"

"So… nothing to do with being obsessive?"

Sirius grinned. "Nah. That runs in a totally different family, Harry. Not the Blacks. But getting back to Christmas – because I'll be tied up in legalese for the next few months and the brainless bast- I mean, the Ministry officials in their wisdom won't let me take guardianship of you until it's all sorted."

"Yeah, I gathered that."

"I heard you told Fudge off earlier. Sounded like you couldn't wait to be seventeen in and told them to go to hell prematurely."

"I didn't tell him to go to hell! I just… told him I would be sorting out my own life from now on."

"Perhaps it was the tone you used. He's got his robes in a knot, that's for sure." But Sirius wasn't looking the least bit disapproving of Harry's conduct. "Anyway, why are we worrying about that idiot? The rest of the summer looks like being a bit of a write-off for me, but I had a question for you: come Christmas, where do you want to be?"

"Well, if you're allowed, do you want to have a holiday somewhere with me?" Harry asked, trying not to sound too keen, just in case Sirius had something else he had to do. They still weren't back to the easy-going relationship they'd had earlier on in the year, but Harry wanted to be. Now that he could see Sirius' flaws more easily he was determined to draw his own boundaries, such as letting his godfather know when he was pushing Harry into doing something stupid in an effort to resurrect James. Despite everyone over the age of thirty spending the last six years expecting him to be James, Harry wasn't. So long as Sirius was ready to meet him halfway… and Harry knew Sirius wanted this chance at a family as badly Harry did.

Sirius' eyes sparkled. "Love to. Where?"

"Somewhere warm?"

"Tropical warm? I know just the place. Buckb- er, Witherwings and I hid out in the Caribbean after we escaped. I left him with a voodoo witch I met there. Hope he remembers me."

"He will. I'd like to learn to swim. Properly swim – I had to swim in fourth year and didn't like it much – it's freezing cold in the lake – and we could sunbathe and – and go snorkelling like Muggles."

Sirius smiled at Harry's enthusiasm. "I prefer Gillyweed, but living like a Muggle is always an adventure, although having sunburn without a good potion to counter it isn't the kind of fun I care to repeat."

"Ouch."

"We could stop by Montana."

"Would you want to?" Harry asked guardedly.

"What, and miss seeing my old pal Simon? It wouldn't be Christmas without the festive colours of bruises."

Harry chuckled. "He's much more forgiving with you now. He must like you."

Sirius cut slices off his apple, sharing it with Harry. Something drew tighter in Harry's throat as he remembered Severus. But that wasn't a memory he could share with Sirius. Not yet. Perhaps when things were stronger between them, but…

…not yet.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?"

"You were miles away."

"No, just… sorry. What were you saying?"

"Just that next summer, if you want to, I can look at getting a property and warding it to death until it's safe enough to bring Simon back – that's if you still want to live with me when you're a venerable wizard of seventeen going on eighteen, newly graduated and off to take on the world. You still want to join the Aurors, don't you?"

"Not so sure of that… I used to want to, but now I'd like to see what else is out there."

"Good thinking. But if you want to practise your warding spells it's more fun to do it on your own property."

"Wouldn't you want to stay at Grimmauld Place?"

Sirius' face shadowed. "I don't have fond memories of it. I'd like something fresh. Something that's mine, without ghosts. Kreacher can stay there – he'll be happier without me. If that git Malfoy – Lucius, I mean, Draco's grown on me – if Lucius can run a farm, surely I can cope with a small herd of horses. We can get Simon a girlfriend. A couple of girlfriends. As many girlfriends as he wants. Baby horses frisking happily through the daisies in green meadows would give a place a certain cheerfulness my ancestral home has never managed to rise to."

Harry grinned as he chewed his slice of apple. "You want to be a horse farmer?"

"Why not?" Sirius leaned back and stretched out his arms expansively. "Or hippogriffs. Something equine that won't drink all my Firewhisky like those damned flying things do.

Harry shrugged. "Yeah. That could be good. Although we'd have to fight Draco for possession of Simon." He couldn't bring himself to name Luna. Let Sirius think that this was one of those lovers' spats that would blow over in time.

Sirius' grin became a grimace. "He's welcome to come and visit."

"That was heartfelt."

Sirius gave a gusty sigh. "I'll make him welcome. But he's not allowed to be a git in my house. And if Lucius steps foot over the threshold he'll lose his leg."

"Fair enough. So where are you staying this summer?"

Sirius shot him a surprised look. "Back at good old number 12, Grimmauld Place. I thought you knew? Didn't Dumbledore tell you?"

"He only told me he was sending Simon away."

"Oh. No wonder you've been so down in the mouth today. Well, are you going to come and live with me? Fudge wants you to stay at some safehouse of his choosing, I know that, but I've just been talking to Dumbledore and he pointed out that you'll be safest at the old headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. So if you want to come there, you would be officially under Albus' protection – that means the Ministry can't get nasty about me having guardianship of you. I won't be around as much as I'd like, but you can have your friends come and stay and we can have adventures on the weekends when the lawyers are roosting in their belfries. Or are you too cool to be seen with your grungy old godfather now that you're a big hero?"

Harry punched him lightly in the shoulder. Even a punch with real meaning in it wouldn't have made much impact – Sirius was even more solidly built since his student days. The last year of exercise and Hogwarts' good food had gone a long way towards making up for the years in Azkaban. "Yeah. I'm a big hero. You'd better remember it when I walk in the door."

"Showers of rose petals are on hold until I can convince Kreacher to clean the house properly." But his grin was filled with relief, and Harry was reassured to see how important it was to Sirius that Harry join him.

"I guess I can cope with the lack of rose petal showers."

ooOOoo

There were no classes that afternoon and there would be none tomorrow. Some students wanted to throw a party, but despite all the reasons for one there was surprisingly little motivation. Most students were too busy thinking about going home to want to spend time with their friends. Monday afternoon passed with a steady trickle of parents coming to pick up their children, not wanting to wait another day.

Harry went and hid in the library for a few hours. Elmsworthy found him reading old Quidditch manuals there and paused in his return of several dozen books to fold himself into the chair next to Harry and wish him luck for the summer. The Slytherin was already dressed in Muggle jeans and a T-shirt bearing a picture of a lanky racehorse which would have been a closer image of Simon if it had been black rather than chestnut.

"Nice T-shirt. You off tomorrow with everyone else?" Harry asked.

"No, in about an hour. Trudi and I are being sent out together to an Amnesty Point – it's a sort of diplomatic point of transfer for officials and their families only – by-passes all the checkpoints and strip-searches and annoying customs officials."

"Sounds quite handy for international travel. Do you normally travel that way?" Harry was genuinely curious. If he went to Montana, would he get to travel through an Amnesty Point? Strip-searches didn't sound fun, and Elmsworthy's sneer suggested the customs officials themselves were even worse.

"No, usually I just take an International Portkey. But things are a bit up in the air at the moment, and while I don't think either Trudi or I are in danger, you never know. The Ministry doesn't want to take any chances. From there on, I'm off to spend a month relaxing and hopefully eating in some very fine Japanese and Greek restaurants. What about you? Have you thought of going into hiding until some of the furore dies down?"

Harry had overheard speculation about Elmsworthy being involved with the potions to destroy Voldemort and the barrier. It was bad enough that Harry was a target. He'd feel terrible if any of the others who'd helped were harmed. "Is that what you're doing? Hiding out in the Muggle world? You already look the part."

"Not exactly. I was booked to go and visit my Muggle grandparents, and my cousins don't know I'm a wizard. They just think I'm a geek."

"How'd they get that idea?"

"Buggered if I know. It's not like I still wear my Yoda T-shirt."

"No, just one advertising the Melbourne Museum."

"Museums aren't geeky."

Harry decided not to argue. "Is it a horse museum?" For a second he thought it might be fun to take Luna there before the depressing reality of his current foot-in-mouth situation returned.

"No, it's only got the one horse. And that's stuffed."

"Ugh."

Tyrol shrugged. "That's the trouble with being famous when you're a horse – sooner or later someone's going to turn your hooves into snuffboxes or your hide into a chair."

"Simon won't be having that problem," Harry said quickly.

"Good – keep it quiet about him. Too many people might want to take out their disappointments on him now the world is down one Dark Lord."

"I always knew you were fond of Simon."

With a look of pain, Elmsworthy admitted, "You can't hate a horse that's interested in Potions. Did you see how he'd check my hands when I came to the paddock?"

"And he was very curious about your little bottles, too. He was the one who sniffed the Worse-BSM and knew it was dangerous even before the lid was opened."

"Maybe horses aren't that stupid."

Harry leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands behind his head. "Well, have a good summer." He nodded at the T-shirt logo. "Are you going to be in Melbourne? Hopefully it'll be warm up there."

"This Melbourne's in Australia. Winter there. I'll be a few hours drive from the city in a town called Ballarat."

Harry really should have guessed it wasn't the Melbourne in Scotland (he had been sure there was a city called Melbourne somewhere north of Hogwarts) by the fact Elmsworthy was travelling internationally, and was glad the Slytherin didn't get supercilious over Harry's appalling grasp of geography. "Nice place?"

"Jolly nice place, actually."

"In that case, have a good winter. You can tell me about it in September – it's about time I started thinking about seeing the rest of the world."

"I've finished here."

"Wha-? Oh, of course – this was your last year! Congratulations. What's next? After the holiday, I mean?"

"Dad wants me to get into the family trade." He scowled like a gargoyle. "Thankfully I'll have a month's holiday until he gives me my assignment. To be honest, I think I'd be better off in Potions, and if I end up a fully-fledged ambassador you might need to come out of retirement to stop another war, what."

"Oh, you won't be that bad."

"Don't patronise me, Potter. I'm hideous at diplomacy – I'm even worse than you are at geography."

"Yeah, okay, you are pretty dire. Well, owl me if you get bogged down in angry Dark Lords who want their paperwork handled faster. I can threaten them with Simon or something."

Elmsworthy almost smiled. "The funny thing is that I may actually need to take you and your horse up on that. Come and visit if you're in the part of the world where I'm assigned – it'll be the one with the exploding embassy if you're wondering."

"I'll be sure to," Harry grinned. "Hope you find a way of reconciling Potions and Diplomacy."

"God, me too, or I'll die of boredom. Look after yourself. Comrade." He extended a hand.

Harry took it. "You too. Comrade."

And that was that. Another end. Or another beginning. Harry was losing track of the difference. Flying changes again.

ooOOoo

The Weasleys would be leaving after dinner, Harry was told by Hermione. A special Ministry car was coming to pick up Ron and Ginny.

Tomorrow afternoon the castle would be almost empty with only Harry, a select few students, the staff and the ghosts rattling around inside it. Not even Hermione, Draco or a horse on a hill would remain.

Sirius' plans to take Harry home with him for the rest of summer had come as a huge relief to Harry, who hadn't known what he'd do otherwise (only that there was no way this side of Hell he'd go back to the Dursleys'); however, Sirius would be busy with the Ministry for another two months at the least and he didn't want to have Harry sitting around getting increasingly bored all by himself in a house where not all the Dark artefacts had been found and destroyed.

Remus couldn't babysit (as Sirius had put it with one of his more annoying grins) as he had to stay at Hogwarts to help Dumbledore and the other teachers. Draco was still avoiding the topic of his own parents, but Harry suspected Lucius wasn't out of the woods by a long shot, and the Malfoys were only the visible tip of the iceburg. Many students had 'complicated family affairs', a Ministerial phrase which meant that their parents were dead, missing, overseas, in jail or had pending trials to ascertain innocence or degree of guilt. Quite a few students, Slytherins in particular, had parents that came under more than one of the above category, and it had come as a bit of a surprise for Harry that as far as the Ministry was concerned, he was lumped in with them: his guardian, Sirius, had a legalistic journey of his own to complete. While waiting for places to be sorted out for them, they would stay at Hogwarts for a few extra days.

To the amazement of everybody (Remus included), the werewolf was one of the few staff members accepted as an adult mentor for those students hardest hit by 'complicated family affairs'. The flabbergasted werewolf was the only professor students from all Houses were comfortable mediating for them – he was highly flattered and taking his unasked-for responsibilities as seriously as a born-again sheepdog, but the job was soaking up any time and energy he had free after the work Dumbledore was asking of the staff for healing Hogwarts. Thus Remus couldn't act as guardian pro tempore for Harry.

Huh. As if I need one. I'll be seventeen in a month…

But not all the Death Eaters or their supporters had been rounded up yet. So Harry, darling once again of the fickle Wizarding world, needed to be kept safe.

Safe? Harry wasn't sure he was safe, not with the legions of wizards and witches (mostly witches) trying to get into the castle on the pretext of coming back to their beloved Old School or the School their Dearest Offspring were Attending to gawk at him and ask for his autograph (and occasionally propose marriage). Some of the people didn't even have children attending, or weren't graduates from his time at Hogwarts.

Maybe it would be best to go to America after all.

At least no witches or wizards there other than Robert Python would know who he was.

No witches or wizards other than Robert Python and Luna.

ooOOoo

The Aurors were setting up the equipment to transport Simon down in the meadow. Harry and Hermione went down to take a look. Fat amethyst pyramids twinkled at the corners of a square, their sloping sides greasy with waiting magic. When activated, Hermione told Harry, a central amethyst would rise up into the air, forming a pyramid of magical power that created an interdimensional channel between Hogwarts and Rob's ranch. Simon would be sent through a twinkle in the world.

The Aurors working on the project were being overseen by a small man, vague or brisk by turns, with a great froth of white hair radiating around an otherwise bald head rising through it like a full moon through cloud. He'd been introduced to Harry as Kew.

Kew was perhaps the first visitor to Hogwarts uninterested in Harry. Right now he was walking around the meadow with a forked stick twitching in his hands as he mapped out the leylines, muttering to himself in some arcane dialect of Arithmancy. Even Hermione didn't know what he was on about. Harry decided to leave her to the puzzle, and went to visit Simon.

He was met halfway up the hill by Draco, running down.

"He's gone!"

"What?" Harry didn't need to ask who 'he' was. Draco looked like someone who hadn't decided on panic, tears or apoplectic rage, so it was hardly going to be Elmsworthy he was upset about. "Who took him?"

"I don't know," Draco gasped, winded by running and panic. He must have been searching the entire paddock. The Aurors? Maybe they sent him to Montana early…"

"No, they're still setting up."

"Death Eaters?"

Harry had been thinking the same thing. "Probably not," he said quickly, not wanting to send the Slytherin into complete hysterics. "Maybe someone took Simon somewhere out of sight until he gets shipped out."

Draco shot him a look like Harry was mentally challenged.

"Think about it," Harry persisted, warming to the idea. "After we took him last week, do you think Dumbledore trusts us not to nick off with him?"

Draco's nose twitched and his eyes sharpened with a predatory gleam as he began to calm down. Some days he had an uncanny resemblance to that ferret he'd once been. "Good point. So where would he have been taken? They wouldn't send him away without us there, would they? I mean, who else is there he – …Luna. Luna must have gone up to catch him." He exhaled loudly through his teeth. "She would think she was doing Simon a favour… somewhere in her odd brain she would have found justification for my heart-attack!"

Now it looked like Harry was going to have to protect Luna. "Well, we don't know it was Luna –"

Grey eyes raked him with scorn. "Who else, Potter? Hagrid can't catch Simon, and Flitwick's scared stiff of him. And I just saw Hooch down by the lake talking to some parents. It has to be Luna. Where would she have taken him?"

Harry shrugged. "The big pen Hagrid and I first put him in? The one down by the stables?"

"I suppose it's as good a place as any to start."

They hurried to the pen. The gate was shut, but they didn't need to open it to know Simon wasn't inside. The muffled bangs and thuds coming from inside the barn were as good as a flashing neon sign pointing out the horse's direction.

Harry and Draco shoved the wide doors open and stood for a moment, letting their eyes adjust to the shadowy interior. Dust drifted down from the ceiling high above as something crashed against a wall down the other end of the barn. There was the unmistakable sound of hooves on hard-packed dirt.

They took out their wands and ran to the closed door of the loosebox, Draco's shoulders tilting with apprehension as they reached it. He'd been blind when the monster had attacked him here, but perhaps his feet remembered the way.

There was another crash. It sounded like a large, frightened horse was kicking at the walls.

"Quick! Something's attacking him!" Draco grunted, yanking at the handle of the door, which wouldn't lift the latch. He kicked the door.

Something on the other side kicked at a wall again. More dust shivered down. Muffled voices exclaimed; there was a yelp.

At least two people in there – Harry was sure he recognised the voices, but he couldn't quite put names to them yet.

Harry watched the Slytherin wrestle with the door for another second. It seemed to have been locked from the inside. "Move out of the way, Malfoy. Alohomora!" he cried, and there was a bang and the door swung open to reveal yellow-lit chaos.

"What the hell are you doing to my horse!?" Draco screamed, his face scarlet.

Harry stopped, equally appalled. "Like Malfoy almost said – what the hell are you doing to Simon?"

Inside the loosebox, light globes hovered above the mayhem, casting far too many shadows, shadows that seemed to fight and merge with each other.

Her hair a blazing beacon, Ginny had her hands pressed against Simon's shoulder and neck and was engaged in a weird tarantella to keep her feet out of the way as the horse plunged around the loosebox. She seemed to be staying upright by hanging on to the edge of the horse's cover.

Simon had the whites showing all around his rolling eyes like an eclipse and sweat was turning his neck slick, and he seemed torn between making a break for it through a solid wall and not trampling over Luna, who was hanging on for grim death to the horse's head.

Up in the hayloft perched Neville, industriously stirring a cauldron of foaming purple muck that was starting to ooze over the brim. He gaped at Harry and Draco. "It's okay, Harry, I'm just –"

"Just about to blow everyone up," Draco shouted, hurrying forward with Harry at his heels.

Luna glared at him and unclenched one hand from the headcollar for the second it took to wave her wand, first to shut the door before Simon could wheel around and charge through it, then:

"Petrificus totalis."

Harry was just quick enough to stop Draco pitching face forward onto the ground, but the weight knocked him off his feet and he dropped his wand. "Argh… Malfoy… Are you -? Damn it! Luna, are you completely insane?" he snarled as he groped through the straw for his wand. He got it, then quickly dragged Draco into a corner before Simon could trample him in his panic.

"I'm in the middle of something, Harry," Luna replied grimly. "Come on… I know you can do it… come on… Poseidon…" She was speaking to the horse now, and Simon reared, Luna swinging from his head and gasping with the shock, and Ginny Weasley doing her best to keep contact with the juddering, shifting neck of the terrified beast.

"Don't let go!" Luna cried.

"I'm not," Ginny muttered, her face locked in concentration. "Merlin's sake, Luna, he's not doing anything, he's…"

"Poseidon! Poseidon!" Luna was shouting. "More dry ice, Neville!"

Neville, wide-eyed as Simon, threw in fuming white pellets.

The cauldron hissed. Bubbles began to ooze over the rim.

"That's it! Now the sparklers!"

In went the sparklers from Weasleys Wizard Wheezes.

The cauldron rocked on its base and sent up a cascade of phosphorescent foam.

Simon made a hoarse, gasping noise of panic. He had his tail clamped down hard, just like Padfoot being chased by something very scary, and he thrashed his head from side to side, nearly throwing Luna across the stall. "Poseidon, for Merlin's sake! Po- ouch!" she gasped as her leg smacked against the manger.

"Poseidon?" Harry said faintly. Luna had said that when she'd had concussion. He'd asked Hermione once what was special about some old god of the ocean, and she'd said –

"He's going bonkers!" Ginny shouted. Simon was trying to rear again. She clung to his mane and the cover. "He's – oh my goodness…"

Harry felt it.

Stone out in the wider area of Hogwarts vibrated as the magic stirred. The ground beneath the straw began to shift and spit out long-buried stones which glittered with little sparks as they answered the demands of a sorceress. They burst like exploding puffballs, releasing magic into the air along with the acrid smell of dying rock.

Ginny's hair crackled with power and she cried out: "Oh dear… here we go…" and was enveloped by a whirling indigo haze that spiralled out of her fingers where they were suddenly glued to the horse.

The haze hovered around the horse, curling without actually making contact with Simon's blanket. It was frighteningly like the silvery mist that had attacked Voldemort, but he sensed on the deepest level of him, that place where magic came from, that this was a different type of enchantment. Where Voldemort had been fighting against the power of unicorns and Forest, the magics of Simon and Ginny were seeking a consensus of power. Yellow and graphite arced from the anti-theft charm in Simon's chest, a flare of power visible through the blanket and straps over Simon's chest, the magic juddering against the spinning light of the charm, and threaded through the indigo mist, mapping out new roads as magic sought equilibrium.

A brief spike of light pulsed through the loosebox as an answering spell – the second spell in Simon's chest – sparked to life.

Harry blinked, trying to clear the lights popping behind his eyes. It took a moment before he could be sure that he wasn't imagining the spells shifting over Simon. There was a pale light spinning like a top that had managed to lodge itself in Simon's chest despite all laws of physics. It lay just off to the right of the more slowly turning anti-theft charm. Sirius had pointed it out to Harry that day he'd got his leg broken, and Draco had also seen it and described it as being at the wrong angle.

The second light shifted, gliding towards the anti-theft charm until it was overlying it, both spells spinning in the same direction but at different rates.

Somehow this position looked right – Harry couldn't explain how he knew, but he was certain it was back in place.

And yet that sorcerous, indigo light wasn't actually contacting the spell… it was as if the spell and the light were both freewheeling, straining towards each other, with the whirling light unable to catch the cogs of the spell and activate and Ginny's magic pushing at the boundaries with all the strength it could muster from bone and sinew in a supreme effort to get spinning light and charm .

The effect on the horse was crippling.

Simon wheezed, standing like a new-born foal or a dying horse with all four legs spread and head lowered.

"It won't catch," Ginny shouted. The ground was shaking as badly as Simon. Ginny was beginning to look terrified rather than merely worried. Sparks flew from her and sizzled in the straw. Some of it twined itself into miniature figures that skittered away on two or four legs into the corners of the loosebox before disintegrating. Draco twitched as the spell holding him broke under all the wild magic crackling through the stable.

"Poseidon! Come on, Poseidon!" begged Luna.

Simon gave an almost human groan and his knees began to buckle as the twirling lights of the anti-theft charm and the second mystery spell stabbed into his chest, seeking, seeking, seeking…

Harry felt his stomach drop as he finally remembered what Hermione had told him… Poseidon wasn't just the god of the ocean but the god of horses as well. What better trigger-word than the name of a god?

"Poseidon reversed," he said faintly, hearing his own voice as if from a great distance, the words spoken by some Harry Potter who was in this place instead of him.

"What?" said Ginny.

"Poseidon reversed," said Harry, louder against the ringing in his ears. Nothing could be as bad as Voldemort, but – "Poseidon reversed."

Ginny gasped and sparks flew from her fingertips and raced up and down Simon's spine, ripping paths through the mist surrounding the horse, paths that immediately flooded grey and yellow. The world stopped quivering as sorcerous magic found itself a focal point.

There was a soft pop as two charms merged into one, and a release of pressure that made Harry wince at the pain in his ears.

Ginny shook her head – everyone was shaking their head or swallowing hard as their ears popped – and gaped at him. "You – you… what did you do?"

But the sorceress' attention was immediately drawn back to Simon. The mist sighed, fluttered, then sank into the horse. Lines in graphite grey and buttercup yellow briefly mapped out all the angles and curves making up the horse's body, shining through the blanket. Simon froze like a sketch of a horse trapped on paper and then the paper shifted in a breeze not felt by mortal skin, as the white rimming his dark eyes made its own dimension, an eclipse of the moon by the sun –

Simon looked up and it was as if a light went on behind his eyes, like that day on the roof when Harry had looked into Simon's eye and sensed someone looking back at him.

It blazed.

Simon collapsed in on himself, a sketch of the horse folding like origami with the dark and the light fighting for ascendance, the headcollar falling empty in Luna's hands and the blanket rippling and dropping to cover the suddenly smaller body sinking down to sprawl in the straw.

Harry teetered, about to run forward, hoping against hope he could still rescue his horse and deny Ginny's powers and Poseidon Reversed. Hope shattered at the sight that hit him like a Stunner to the chest, and he groaned, unconsciously mimicking Simon when the light burrowed into his chest.

Simon dissolved into his own eclipse. The light flared up in one last crackle of grey and yellow and vanished in on itself.

"No! Simon!"

But the horse was gone. All that remained of Simon was a blanket-shrouded figure collapsed in the straw.

Hands instead of hooves emerged from under the cover and, trembling, pushed the former Simon up until the figure was kneeling. The edge of the cover slipped back to reveal a fall of hair as long and black as a horse's mane and a pale shoulder gleaming with sweat.

Luna crouched down and, with a wave of her wand, transfigured the canvas cover into black robes that billowed and settled over a rangy human form. She stroked the long black hair and tucked it gently behind an ear.

"Welcome home," she said.

ooOOoo