Chapter 2:

Trollsbane Tarn

The silver light of the full July moon sat softly on the land, resting in cradles of curled leaves and draping like a satin blanket over fells and forests. It seeped between the trees, coating everything in something neither light nor shadow, and dappling the well-kept path beside the oak rail fence. The path was strewn with pine needles, and in the night, they seemed quiet. In the day, they moved constantly, forming arrows and signs to guide hikers as they made their way around the grounds, trying to find their way to their assigned camps.

At the moment, the needles swerved off in the direction the last group had gone, around a bend and up a hill. A blue and white sign showed a troll, pointing up the path with his club toward what he identified as "Trollsbane Tarn." In the distance, the soft moonlight became sound, the music of a quietly picked guitar, and of a boy's voice raised over the gentle crackling of a campfire.

The boy singing was sitting on a fallen log, his guitar resting lightly on his knee. Its strap, blue with bronze embroidery, said "Donzo." Sitting on the ground in front of him, her blue eyes wide and admiring, was a simply beautiful girl of eleven with blond hair that waved gently over her shoulders. Beyond her, four more boys and one more girl were gathered in a circle, listening to the guitar player, but engaged in their own business. Two of the boys were fifteen, one skinny and gawky, the other hefty and wearing wire-framed glasses. The girl was fourteen, with wild, curly red hair and a habit of reaching for glasses that were no longer there. She dressed in a bulky sweatshirt and loose-fitting boys' shorts, but wasn't able to hide the growing up she'd done over the past several months, much to her embarrassment. She studiously avoided looking at the blond girl under any circumstances. The other two boys were thirteen. One of these was small and dark, still looking like a child; the other had grown six inches, and his shoulders had begun to spread. He looked astoundingly like the large man behind him, who was speaking to a skinny fellow with a shock of sandy brown hair falling over his forehead. Between them, a small thirteen-year-old boy with long, straight blond hair looked eagerly back and forth, following their conversation-about the native birds here-with great interest.

Finally, at the far edge of the clearing, lying alone and looking up at the full moon, was Teddy Lupin, thin like his father, small and compact like his mother, with her nose and cheekbones (when he was resting) and his eyes and mouth. His hair was light brown, but he'd streaked it with the red and gold of his school House in back, and in front, he'd created a large swath of his favorite bluish green. As he watched the moon, he concentrated on these streaks, and they all turned gray, then pink, then white.

Teddy wasn't sad, or sulking, though Victoire had asked about the former and Ruthless had accused him of the latter. He'd just decided to make a point of enjoying a little bit of each full moon, to make up for the ones his father had missed due to his inconvenient transformations into a monster. He'd started this ritual last month, and rather liked it. It was a nice feeling to lie still and appreciate the sky. He felt like he ought to be thinking of Dad, but in fact, he wasn't thinking of much of anything, just feeling the feather touch of the breeze and listening to Donzo play.

Donzo McCormack was the eldest of Teddy's friends in his year-he would be fourteen in October-and his voice had started to change last winter. He'd briefly held out hope that he could quit his singing career on the rationale that he no longer had a good voice, but really, once it had stopped cracking, it had turned out to be better than it used to be, and Donzo, for all of his objections, didn't really seem to have any inclination to quit. Still, he was definitely happier here, singing on his own to his friends, than he had seemed in the rehearsals they'd all attended to provide moral support last week.

"Lupin!"

Teddy tipped his head back, and saw Ruthless Scrimgeour standing above him, chugging her hourly dose of Clear-Eye Concoction, her nose wrinkling between gulps. Her sweatshirt was loose enough to be bloused out, and from this angle, Teddy could see straight up to a bit of heavy white cloth that he thought might be her brassiere. He rolled over quickly and sat up straight, glad that it wasn't easy to see a blush in this light. "What?"

"We voted. You've done your pining, melodramatic orphan act for fifteen minutes. Time to get up." She held out her hand to help him (or, more likely, drag him) to his feet.

Teddy took it, then let go quickly, as his hands had started sweating. He got up and followed her over to the campfire. Maurice Burke, who still looked exactly as he had first year, barely even taller, winced at Teddy's hair. "D'you know it's bright pink?"

Teddy hadn't really kept track of where he'd stopped his hair cycling through its colors, and probably would have changed it to something else if Maurice hadn't looked so pained, but as it was, he left it, shrugging to indicate that he was exactly cool enough to keep it pink without worrying about the consequences. That all of them knew he'd never dare to do it outside their little circle mattered not a whit.

Donzo had finished his song-a new one he was going to record next month, and was now just fiddling with chords. Victoire Weasley was still watching him with rapt attention. Teddy didn't think her parents would like that very well, so he tapped her shoulder and pulled her over to the main group, where Frankie Apcarne was trying to explain a new concept he'd heard of in the role playing game they'd all played avidly all summer.

"It's like the dice game, except that you're actually moving about," he said. "And you got a costume, and when there's a fight, you fight it."

"In other words," Corky Atkinson said, "it's playing cops and robbers. Running around and saying, 'Bang, bang' when we're supposed to shoot someone."

"No-Weasleys' is putting out little mocks." Frankie reached into his bag and pulled out a catalog from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. He opened it to show them George Weasley's new line of Muggles and Minions accessories, and showed them little wooden guns that Teddy knew made a kind of beeping sound and made a little purple spot on the intended target. Everyone on the page was dressed up in costumes. Teddy rather fancied the idea of dressing up like a space man and pretending to shoot lasers-he'd helped George come up with this, and little James Potter was fully engaged in the idea and had been shooting up his house for a week-but as no one else was admitting to such a thing, he thought it might be the better part of valor not to mention it. Frankie sighed and put it away. "I guess I'll be too busy with O.W.L.s this year anyway. Tinny said she wanted to do it, though."

"Too bad she didn't come to say so," Ruthless grumbled. Bernice Fletcher and Tinny Gudgeon had both been otherwise occupied this week-Bernice working in her cousin's shop; Tinny traveling to Germany with her parents-and Ruthless's family hadn't been keen on her camping alone with a pack of boys. To get them to let her come along, she'd goaded Victoire into asking to come along-calling her "Miss Fancy-Knickers" when they'd both been at Teddy's for a game and generally implying that she couldn't handle the outdoors-so that she wouldn't be the only girl around, but Teddy didn't think she was especially glad of it. Victoire was not only capable of life outdoors, she actually was better at it than Ruthless was, and had set herself up to make friends with Ruthless... which, unfortunately, wasn't Victoire's strong suit. She'd apparently decided that the best way to make friends was to tell Ruthless how she ought to handle her unmanageable hair, to repack Ruthless's bags more efficiently, and to set up a complicated system of splitting the tasks in caring for their tent. Ruthless, whose idea of advanced hair care was a rubber band that made it puff out like a curly red puffskein sitting on the back of her neck, was not appreciative. By the second day of their week long camping trip, the girls were in a state of open warfare, much to everyone else's entertainment, except the two chaperons-Frankie's dad, Daffy, and Corky's dad, a huge, broad-faced Canadian called Hutch.

Hutch noticed Victoire grinning over her shoulder before anyone else did, and was up and across to the gathered knot of the Forest Guard almost in time to stop Ruthless from sitting down.

Almost.

Teddy saw the flash of purple on the ground just a second too late to prevent Ruthless from sitting down on it. As soon as she dropped down, there was a loud sound of squeaking animals. She jumped up, screaming in revulsion, then saw the piece of purple plastic that had scurried over while she wasn't looking-Teddy guessed it had been sent as soon as she'd grumbled about Tinny. It split into several pieces, all of them nudging affectionately at Ruthless's ankles.

Donzo laughed.

Ruthless picked up one of the pieces (each was labeled "Weasleys' Wailing Wombats") and threw it at him.

He caught it easily.

"Enough!" Hutch Atkinson said, standing up. He waved his wand, and the pieces of the Wailing Wombat flew over to him. He looked at them and rolled his eyes. "I don't know about your uncle's shop, Victoire."

"I think we should make a rule about Victoire using Weasley products," Frankie's friend, Zach Templeton, said. "The rest of us have to pay for them."

"So do I!" Victoire protested, though Teddy knew perfectly well that she'd been given a huge trunk full of pranks for Hogwarts on her eleventh birthday, and she'd only used four of them on Ruthless so far.

"How 'bout we quit the pranks?" Hutch said. "Come on. We've got a campfire. There's a scary story contest in the lodge tomorrow night. Who wants to try one out on us to get some practice?"

"Teddy should," Frankie said. Maurice and Corky seconded this enthusiastically.

"Oh!" Victoire said, "Tell that one you made up for Artie, about the real girl who was trapped in the portrait!"

"No, the sunlight vampire one," Corky said. "That one's cool."

While they argued about which story they wanted to hear, Hutch and Daffy broke out the marshmallows. As they skewered them for toasting, Teddy made up a Muggles-and-Minions sort of story about a mad killer on the loose, who especially went after wizarding children on camping trips. They all listened with great attention-even Daffy and Hutch-as they toasted and ate a bag full of marshmallows. Teddy made a band of campers who were fighting, and they were down to the last one.

"And the last thing she ever heard," he said ominously as he drew it to a close, "was the sound of someone pulling out the pegs on her tent!"

They all apparently found it satisfactory-years of doing this with James had left Teddy reasonably good at it-and duly urged him to go to the lodge tomorrow to compete with other campers. He said he'd think about it.

"I think we should sing," Daffy suggested. "Donzo, would you mind playing?"

Donzo got his guitar eagerly. "Oh, I learned a Muggle song that has Canada in it," he said. "Someplace called 'Jasper.' Is that near you?"

"Jasper..." Corky said. "Yeah, right next door. It's not much further from us than Mexico City, is it, Dad?"

Hutch swatted the back of Corky's head fondly, and Teddy was struck by how much they looked alike. When Corky grew up, he would look like Hutch's twin. "Don't be rude," he said. "I think I know the song Donzo means. It's a good one, if he wants to give it to us."

Donzo smiled and started playing another folksy sort of guitar song, this one about a couple of men wandering around in Jasper, Alberta. Once it was done, they went through his growing collection of Muggles and Minions songs, including the Ballad of Wings, which he'd written for Teddy's character, and The Tube Crawl Tarantella, which had a dance that went along with it. By the time he'd finished the show, even the girls were laughing.

It was late by the time they slipped off to the tents, and Teddy was looking forward to crawling into his puffy sleeping bag between Frankie and the kitchen table, but he waited until everyone else had gone in and he had a moment alone. He looked up at the moon and smiled. "'Night, Moony," he said.

There was no mystical answer. After a moment, Teddy ducked into the tent, waited behind Maurice for a long time to use the toilet, then slid into his sleeping bag and was asleep before he even got comfortable.

He dreamed of blood on the moon.

He was standing in the center of the campground, alone. The tents were there, but he knew they were empty without needing to check. The moon was round and red. A hawk flew across it.

"Dad?" he called, but didn't really hold out any hope. Sometimes he could find his father in his dreams-or at least an image he thought of as his father-but tonight, of course he couldn't come, not under the full moon. It occurred to him that Mum might come, as she'd have certainly stayed with him when Dad couldn't, but she didn't.

The wind tugged at his jacket, and suddenly, he was lifted into the air, soaring high above the fells, looking down at the forest and its nestled lakes. The air was cold, and now he was above the sea, suspended on nothing. He could hear wolves howling, and someone screaming. He passed a cloud, which was a wolf, and it turned to look at him impassively. Below him, the waves were crashing against the sheer cliffs of an island.

A werewolf sat in a high place, watching the skies eagerly. It spotted Teddy and leapt, and then Teddy was falling, toward the water, toward the wolf. He was aware of the hawk again, swooping down from the sky, but it wouldn't reach him in time, it wouldn't-

He awoke with a gasp, his heart pounding. He knocked the leg of the kitchen table in the tent, and a pillow flew at him from the sofa.

"G'slee Teh..." Corky muttered, then turned over and went back to sleep himself.

Shivering, Teddy sat up in his sleeping bag for a long time, not wanting to go back to sleep. It seemed strange to him now, though he'd never thought of it before, that he'd never dreamed of werewolves before. The hawk, he knew-his father had left him a wedding ring charmed with his own memories, and one of his best ones had been of a hawk his mother had let him fly. The hawk had been a frequent visitor in Teddy's dreams. But the werewolf hadn't. Had it been Dad? Had he been taken to the one he'd called for after all? He couldn't imagine who else it could have been-he'd met other werewolves, but none of them were really part of his life-but it hadn't felt like Dad. Not even a little bit.

After a long time, he lay back down and drifted into a thin sleep. He woke up to the sound of the others jumping around the tent, getting things together for breakfast. Frankie pulled his pillow out from under his head and said, "Time to get up, Lupin."

"'m up," Teddy said. He was disoriented. He'd gone to sleep with his head and feet reversed from where they had been.

Frankie crouched down. "Corky said you had a bad dream or something. I told them to let you sleep a bit if you were up in the night."

"Thanks." Teddy blinked, trying to remember his dream. There were snatches of it in his head, but it didn't come together. "Is it breakfast?"

"Dad's got the fire going," Frankie said. "Maurice and Donzo and the girls are trying to catch fish."

"Oh," Teddy said. "Right. I'll just"-he yawned-"get dressed and..."

"Up," Frankie said, pulling him up before he realized he'd been about to lie down again.

Teddy let himself be dragged to his feet and shuffled to the toilet, the balls of his feet sore from yesterday's hiking. There was running hot and cold water, but he stuck to cold, splashing it on his face and under his arms to wake himself up. By the time he was washed and dressed, Maurice and Donzo had come back with a fish apiece, and Ruthless and Victoire were sitting in disgrace, as they'd managed to splash into the tarn competing for a good spot and scare away the fish Hutch was trying to Summon.

"At least that's Dad's excuse this time," Corky said, rolling his eyes. "Last time I went fishing with him, he blamed merpeople for over-hunting. When I was four, he tried to tell me that all the fish that belonged in Lake Ontario got sucked down the Niagara whirlpool."

Teddy smiled. "Uncle Harry once told me that they'd moved a pool in the Forest of Dean, at least until we found it right where he left it."

The lack of fish didn't cause too much hardship with breakfast, as Daffy had brought along quite enough food for a month. The tents both had kitchens with stoves, but no one had suggested that food ought to be cooked in them. Instead, each of them took a mess kit with a long handle, fried bacon, then scrambled eggs in the grease. Teddy thought this a fine manner of eating.

When they'd finished, they argued about whether to go swimming or to hike up the mountain trail (Teddy was perfectly happy with either, so didn't participate), and Frankie resolved it by bringing out the dice. Ruthless, who favored hiking, rolled horrendously, and Roger Young crowed at the top of his voice as he ran to get his swim trunks. Victoire and Ruthless disappeared into their tent, Victoire emerging a few minutes later in a shiny one-piece sort of thing, with a towel wrapped around her. Ruthless poked her head out, then went back inside and came out in a huge T-shirt and pair of cut-off blue jeans.

They tromped down to the tarn together. It was a shallow gouge in the land, left by a glacier, surrounded by hills and ringed by rocks. "It's cold," Victoire warned, then jumped off the pier. She came up bouncing and shivering, and a moment later, everyone else, including Ruthless, was in, splashing and calling each other names. Frankie and Zach talked about playing some game in which the girls were meant to sit on their shoulders and try to knock one another off, but after some consideration, it was decided that, in the case of Victoire and Ruthless, it would be best not to give them a pretense to try to drown one another.

Late morning came in with hot, heavy sun, and Teddy pulled himself up onto the pier not long before noon. The sun baked into him, evaporating the cold water, and he closed his eyes until a shocking rain fell on him. He half sat up, opening his eyes to find Victoire climbing up beside him. "Sorry," she said, wincing. "Didn't mean to drip on you."

"All right," Teddy said irritably.

She sat down, dangling her feet toward the water while she toweled her hair. "This is such fun. I'm so glad Mum and Dad let me come. Do you suppose they'll be my friends at Hogwarts? Or will they not want to be around a first year anymore? Do you think Ruth really hates me, or is she just faking? Can I ever use the..." She opened her hands like a book to indicate the Marauder's Map, which Uncle Harry had given to Teddy his first year, and which Victoire knew about because Teddy had needed help deciphering some French spells that Sirius had left on a document they called the Keys to the Castle. She, Frankie, and Ruthless-who'd found out about it when she'd caught Teddy sneaking out last year-were the only other people at Hogwarts who knew Teddy had it.

"I'll show you how to use it," he whispered. "And they'll be your friends if you want them to be. Frankie was my friend when I was a first year."

This seemed to satisfy Victoire, though Teddy supposed she'd figure out before the end of the Sorting Feast that hanging about with the Forest Guard wasn't going to improve her social standing very much. Aside from Donzo (who had a lot of fans he generally tried to escape), Corky (who was always around but had somehow not been perceived as being one of the weird boys), and Teddy himself (who got along reasonably well with everyone), being in the group was the kiss of death. Even Ruthless, who'd made Beater on the Quidditch team last year and single-handedly saved the Cup for Gryffindor, was thought of as a freak, although that might have had something to do with her penchant for solving arguments with her fists.

"I can't wait to go get my wand," she said. "Mum's taking me right after we get back. I wonder what it will be."

Teddy let her go on in this vein, though he'd heard it before. She'd been going on about getting her wand soon since her birthday in May. He'd had occasion to wonder about wand matching himself, not just because of his own troubles, but because he'd given some of his hair to Berit Ollivander to use as a core. She'd sent it all back with rather large apologies, saying that it could end up dangerous for him to have someone else matched with a wand containing bits of himself, if that person turned out to be less than honorable. Granny had been quite angry when she found out what he'd done.

He let her voice drift over him, enjoying the weight of the sunlight and the feel of the breeze. He had no warning at all when a great rush of water doused him head to foot and Ruthless began to laugh.

Victoire was on her feet in a second, Teddy a moment behind her, and they jumped back into the tarn. Ruthless had temporarily teamed up with Roger, and the four of them all sent great sheets of water at each other, slapping the surface to get maximum waves. Ruthless's tee shirt did nothing to help her hide her shape-now that it was wet, it was as clingy as a bathing suit-but she seemed to have forgotten about it entirely. Soon, the others joined in, and the little area of the tarn close to the pier was heaving like it was the middle of a monsoon. Frankie used his size to generate huge waves by jumping in; Maurice took to spitting great fountains of water at everyone.

Teddy ducked under to avoid one of these missiles from Maurice, and the motion of the water carried him toward the shore. Laughing as he came up, he stumbled backward toward the grassy slope and tripped over a rock, falling onto his face just as a loud crack broke the afternoon. A glossy black shoe appeared in front of his nose. He looked up and saw neat black trousers poking out from under a scarlet robe. The robe had the insignia of the Ministry for Magic. At the top, sunlight glinted on glasses and caught in a mess of black hair.

Uncle Harry reached down to help him up. He was pale and looked like he hadn't slept. "Hello, Teddy," he said, and his thin smile disappeared. "Something's happened. You need to know about it."

Teddy got to his feet slowly, feeling disoriented.

"Harry!" Daffy Apcarne said, running up from the tarn. "Is there something wrong? What's happened?"

Hutch came up beside him, with that odd look of recognition without acknowledgment that most polite people seemed to have the first time they met Uncle Harry. "Mr. Potter, Hutch Atkinson. Did something happen?"

Uncle Harry nodded. "Teddy and Victoire need to come home, and the Ministry is closing outdoor areas for a little while. There's a... security problem. A breakout at Azkaban."

Daffy went completely white. "A breakout? Who? The Carrows? Bloody Umbridge?"

"Are we talking about Death Eaters?" Hutch asked. He grabbed Corky, who had wandered over, and held him by the upper arm. Teddy had visions of him trying Transatlantic Side-Along Apparition on the spot.

"Fenrir Greyback," Uncle Harry said. "They pulled Greyback out last night. We lost two guards, and a third one was turned."

"Turned?" Teddy repeated.

"Greyback's a werewolf."

Daffy turned back toward the tarn, where everyone else had noticed Uncle Harry. They were picking up towels and drying off. Daffy waved his wand, and Teddy felt a Quick-Dry spell pass around the clearing. "We're going," he said. "Now."

"I thought the campground was charmed against werewolves," Hutch said. "Before we came during the full moon-after last month's attack-we checked, and..."

"It's protected from transformed werewolves, but it was decided that it wouldn't be fair to block untransformed ones. The one who escaped... it doesn't matter that he's a werewolf. And today, he's no more blocked than you are."

Daffy nodded. "We'll pack up."

"Ron's already taking the liberty," Uncle Harry said. "If anyone's things are in the wrong bag, they can trade back at Hogwarts."

"Is Hogwarts going to be safe?" Hutch asked.

Uncle Harry thought about it carefully. "It's not impregnable, but it's the easiest place in the country to secure. High walls, centuries of collected magic, and quite a lot of very powerful witches and wizards in full time residence there. I trust it." He glanced at Corky, who'd started squirming at the phrase "in the country." "I trust it for Teddy, and I don't take chances there. And, at any rate, I hope that this entire situation will be over before the first of September." He put his hand on Teddy's shoulder. "We need to leave now, though."

The group followed him back to the campsite, where Ron had collapsed the tents. Ron waved to all of them, but he looked very tired, and more than a little bit grumpy. Their bags were packed and lined up, and the fire pit had been buried. Donzo's guitar case leaned forlornly against the fallen log.

Teddy put on his backpack and picked up his book bag, then hurried up to walk with Uncle Harry, who was leading the way out. He wasn't sure why Uncle Harry looked quite so awful-there wouldn't be a full moon for another month-but he guessed there were reasons. "Did you sleep?" he asked.

Uncle Harry nodded, not stopping. "They called at dawn. The morning shift came in and found out what happened. We were hoping we'd catch them before they landed a boat anywhere. Ron and I have been flying over the sea for three hours. There's no sign of it."

"A boat!"

"Yes. A Muggle boat. It's the only way they could have done it. We found a cove. They must have waited for the evening shift to come on and then climbed the cliff." He seemed distracted, more thinking aloud than answering Teddy's questions. "Perimeter spells. Simple perimeter spells, on objects, not just Distraction Charms, they weren't Muggles, they were just using a Muggle boat..." He stopped, then turned to Teddy, blinking. "Sorry. I'm going to take care of this, Teddy."

"Why did you just come for Victoire and me, if everyone has to go home?"

"I'll tell you when we're inside," he said. "There's a lot you have to hear. A lot I was hoping could wait a bit longer."

"Why now?"

He sighed and started moving again. "Last month, there was a werewolf attack. We haven't seen them since before the end of the war, and we thought it was isolated, just a werewolf who transformed before he had a chance to lock himself away. We didn't intend to kill him, but there was no choice. He transformed back. He was known to be in Greyback's pack... a group of werewolves he kept around him. But we still didn't think of it. We hadn't seen the others. But they must have decided that if we were killing werewolves, it was time to get Greyback out of Azkaban."

"So they were just trying to help him. Just like a family."

"Greyback bit your father," Uncle Harry said. "He did it deliberately, and then tried to kidnap him into the pack. Don't imagine that this is a friendly little gathering. Greyback was in Azkaban for a reason."

Teddy followed him, not asking any more questions.

They reached the main lodge, where the fire was burning brightly. Another group of campers was arguing with the caretaker, demanding their money back for the rest of the week. Uncle Harry handed over fifteen galleons without comment, then Summoned a pot of Floo powder and gave it to the group leader.

While they were Flooing away, Ron gathered Teddy's group together. "Does everyone have a parent at home?"

"I'm old enough to stay alone," Zach said.

"Is that a no?"

"My parents are both working."

"Then you're going home with Frankie," Ron told him. "Daffy, will you get in touch with his parents?"

Daffy nodded. "I'll make sure all of them get home all right. Don't worry."

"Make sure they're with someone with a wand before you let them go."

"I'll take half of them," Hutch said.

"Thank you," Uncle Harry told him.

Corky, Donzo, and Maurice stayed with Hutch, and he sent them through the Floo to Diagon Alley before disappearing himself. Frankie, Zach, and Roger went to Daffy.

"Ruth!" Daffy called. "Over here."

Ruthless had sidled over to Victoire, who was waiting beside Ron. "I want to know what's going on," she said.

"You can check the Prophet tomorrow," Daffy told her. "Right now, we're Flooing to my house, and I'll get you to your dad right after."

Teddy watched his friends disappear, one by one, into the fire. Ruthless was the last. She glared at Ron and Uncle Harry, then threw her Floo powder with much more force than necessary as she yelled out, "Badger Hill!" The flames went green and leapt alarmingly, then she was gone. Daffy followed her, leaving only Teddy and Victoire with the two Aurors. Victoire seemed dazed by the sudden change in her fortunes. She looked at Teddy, wide-eyed, and said, "What's happening?"

Teddy shrugged and shook his head. "I guess we find out at home. I'm not sure whose."

"We're not going home just yet," Uncle Harry said. "Ron, you take Victoire. I'll take Teddy."

Ron took Victoire, putting his arm around her waist from behind, then waved his wand. Victoire moved her arm, and Ron's moved with her. "I security-bound you," he said. "Relax." He tucked his wand into his pocket, then took a handful of powder. "Auror Department!" he called. The flames went scarlet-a secure Floo. He stepped in, and he and Victoire were gone.

Uncle Harry smiled wearily. "I don't think I've had to bind you to Floo since you were four, but you won't get in if I don't."

Teddy nodded.

Uncle Harry put his arms around him, then there was the sharp, pins-and-needles tingling of the Binding Spell. Teddy felt as if he'd been sewn to his godfather. Uncle Harry threw in the powder, then the world was spinning through flames. Teddy could see flashes of life behind other grates, worlds he'd never been in, and he could feel the shadowy power of being in the In Between. He'd always wondered what it would be like if he could just stop out here and see everything at once.

Then they were falling out of another fireplace-Teddy found himself caught in his grandmother's frantic embrace-in an office Teddy had never been in, because he hadn't visited Uncle Harry at work since he'd got promoted to head the department. Still, he'd have recognized it right off, as the walls were covered with pictures of Aunt Ginny and the children, and of Teddy himself, as well as several examples of James's exuberant but less than expert artwork.

And of course, if that hadn't been enough, the people crowded into the small room would have settled it-Hermione was there, looking grim, and so were Victoire's parents and sisters (and her sole brother Artie). Professor Longbottom was leaning on the door, alongside a woman so badly scarred that she made Victoire's father, Bill, look like he had a moderate case of spots. Her name, Teddy knew, was Vivian Waters, and she was a werewolf. The group was rounded out by Minerva McGonagall, a retired Hogwarts teacher, and a young man in a priest's robes who looked vaguely familiar to Teddy. He seemed to have been talking to Vivian.

"Is there news?" Uncle Harry asked.

"They found the boat," Hermione said. "Empty. It was docked at the mainland. We tracked them to a cottage. The family... is at St. Mungo's. They used the Floo. No one heard where they went, and we didn't have a trace on it."

Uncle Harry nodded and sat down behind his desk. He didn't look like he'd really expected anything else. "In that case," he said, "it's time to talk about Greyback."