Frank couldn't seem to stop pacing. When he'd started, the pathway between the Hogsmeade Post Office and the High Street had been totally blocked with snow, but now his footfalls had managed to crush the snow into mush. "This is absurd! Late again!"

"Who?"

Frank looked up. Above his head, curious yellow eyes peered at him from the entrance to the Post Office's small owlry, the owls' feathers ruffled up more in agitation than from the cold.

"You're right, I'm being annoying." Battling his restless energy, Frank forced himself to stand stock still for a moment before leaning heavily back against the sturdy, ice-chilled walls of the ancient building. His abrupt motion was met with a cacophony of censoring hoots and coos from the owls roosting within, and dislodged a small avalanche of snow that had only just been clinging to the rooftop. He couldn't dodge it. Swearing, Frank scooped out ice from within the collar of his jacket, but was too embarrassed even to look up as he muttered an apology to the birds, his silent witnesses, who were so patiently putting up with his intrusion into their space.

Frank's shift monitoring Hogsmeade had started half an hour ago. He'd taken on the guise of Putnam Anders, a crotchety old bachelor who had decided to move to Hogsmeade to escape the ever-stifling need to hide his magic around Muggles. At least, that was the story that the Order had invented when they created the charade. Anders was a stubborn, unsocial man, designed to invite the villagers' sympathy without encouraging anyone to want to get to know him. And today, Frank had decided, the Owl Post was going to be the target of Anders' annoyance. At least, that's how it would appear to onlooking villagers.

The shift had been uneventful so far, as per usual. It was almost as though the Death Eaters were pointedly ignoring Hogsmeade—which on the surface seemed fine, but Frank knew Hogsmeade had to enter into Dark schemes somewhere. He could feel it in his gut. Hogsmeade was far too close to Hogwarts, to Dumbledore. To Alice. One carefully placed Imperius Curse on any villager—or worse, any student—could be disastrous.

But at least being here meant that he wasn't shadowing Fenrir Greyback or prowling around Azkaban. There'd been talk about sending Frank and Fabian to spy on the giants, but Moody hadn't yet cleared that through Ministry channels. Frank suppressed a chill at the battering array of memories conjured up when he considered his normal duties. It truly was a mental breath of fresh air to be rotated off his task force every once in a while and placed on Hogsmeade duties instead.

But, he'd been flying solo today, a feeling he did not enjoy. Normally "Anders" was shadowed by backup, someone wearing a Disillusionment Charm, but Fabian had been called in as a witness to the Wizengamot and was running late. Frank pretended that he was annoyed the forced abandonment by his partner, but in truth, that was only an excuse for Frank's—and Anders'—continued foul mood.

"Oy."

The whisper at Frank's elbow was hardly audible above the sounds of the shifting owls. Frank nodded curtly, refusing to let the relief show on his face, and moved off across the street. He climbed up the steep hill that led to a small rickety house, making sure as he approached the vacated premises that he drug his feet and churned up the snow so that Fabian could follow without creating a second set of footprints.

Frank peered around, checking for eavesdropping ghosts, as he ducked around the corner of the Shrieking Shack and disappeared from view of the High Street. He turned and looked back down the hill, enjoying the picturesque view of Hogsmeade laid out before him. He fished a long pipe from his coat and began to pretend to smoke it.

"Well?" He asked, talking around the pipe stem from the corner of his mouth. "How'd it go?"

Fabian's Disillusionment Charms were so strong that Frank sensed more than saw the shrug. "About as expected," came his partner's whispered reply.

"They let him off?" Frank asked, so shocked that the pipe almost tumbled from his lips.

"No hard evidence," Fabian answered flatly. Again, Frank sensed the shrug. He could sense, too, that Fabian was working hard to remain professional, to smother how irate he truly was that one of the Hogwarts Express attackers had just been let off the hook.

Frank sighed and decided to change the subject. "Lend us your watch, would you?"

"Why?"

"My watch got blasted last week. I haven't had a chance to get it fixed."

"Ask your bride to buy you a new one," Fabian groaned good-naturedly, but Frank could hear the sound of Fabian's robes rustling as he adjusted to pull the watch over his wrist.

"Haven't told her that my last one broke," Frank admitted, a twinge of guilt squeezing his gut. "She'd want to know how. I can't keep telling her every time we wind up in a scrape."

"Right, right." A pained pause. Fabian was probably reflecting on how grateful he was that he was a bachelor; it limited the number of people who were constantly worrying over him. Fabian's sister tended to worry enough over her both her brothers, though, to compensate for Fabian's single state.

After a moment, the air seemed to ripple, and a light weight shifted down into Frank's coat pocket. On the pretense of lighting the pipe with his wand, Frank delved a hand down into the pocket and wordlessly removed the Disillusionment Charm settled over the watch. He nearly swore again when he glanced down at the watch face. It didn't have hands, but rather stars moving around the watch face, surrounded by indecipherable symbols.

"It's half past nine," Fabian offered, correctly interpreting Frank's buggered expression.

"What would I do without you?"

Fabian's voice was dry as he replied: "I don't want to know."

Frank shook his head, grinning to himself, and slipped the watch onto his wrist. He sighed, and stared off towards Hogwarts. Thestrals wheeled idly over the snow-dusted treetops of the Forbidden Forest. Beyond, the castle looked peaceful, perched on the cliffs like an impenetrable fortress. Frank wished it truly was.

Half past nine. Then Dumbledore had already begun to meet with a select few students. Frank raised his wand, on the point of sending Dumbledore a message via Patronus: they're too young. That's what really had been bothering him all morning. Hell, he'd been too young, and he hadn't joined the fray until after graduating Hogwarts. But he couldn't make himself send the Patronus. It wasn't his place.

"It'll be alright, Frank," Fabian said, again seeming to know exactly what Frank was thinking. "They can handle it. We had to. Come on, time to get back down to the village. People will think Anders is a nutter if he stays up here talking to himself all morning."

We had to do it, Frank agreed grimly. But time will tell if we've handled it well.

Authors's note

I'm back! I know, I can hardly believe it either. For all those wondering where I've been: well, I've been in veterinary school (in my last year now!), and I've used my scarce free-writing time to work the first draft of my original story-finally. I hope one day that you all can read it! :)

I'm really grateful to all the fans of this story, the people who continue to favorite and share and review. This is all for you. 3 Tis the summer for finishing My Deliverance!