A/N: Second to last chapter! I know the ending of the last one was a bit of a shocker for some of you, but I felt it necessary in the greater perspective of who Remus is now and who he is when Harry meets him. I don't think Remus is ready yet, and Rowan still has many adventures to conquer before she's ready to grow up, too. But rest assured, they're not done yet. There's still an entire other story to get through, after all!

Thanks so much to my reviewers missalex3030, MaeveDevine, Fern27, SMGF1, casualmoose, zmey9265, DontTellMeImWrongBitch, gossamermouse101, Lady Syndra, wickedgrl123! I'm thrilled about the feedback! Less tears this time!

Fern27: Thank you so much! Thank you for following along all this time. I'm really happy you've enjoyed it and flattered that you wrote me your first review. I really hope you continue to feel the same way as the story continues. Thank you again and again!

REVIEW MEEEEE!

Disclaimer: I own nothing!

Chapter 67: Of Legs That Tremble, Feet That Step

It was the end of December. Despite being frigidly cold, England had yet to see a single snowflake, but Rowan Delacroix was convinced that it would come any day now. The sky was a heavy gray. It looked as if it might fall at any moment. The ground was dusted with a light coat of frost, which cracked under her boots as she approached the cottage on the hill in front of her. Even in the cold winter air, it seemed so warm. Even with Leanna gone, it seemed very much like home. Lyall answered the door before she could even raise a hand to knock. His face lit up at the very sight of her.

"Rowan," he greeted affectionately. He swept her into a tight embrace, which she returned happily. The warmth of the Lupin household seemed to beckon her inside with promises of comfort. A distant image of his son flashed through her mind, but it was faint. She smiled.

"So what will you do now?"

Rowan smiled softly over her teacup. She and Lyall sat in the kitchen of the Lupin household like she had so many times with Leanna before she had passed. Her chest tightened slightly at the thought of the bright woman.

"That's actually why I've come to see you. I have some big changes ahead and figured now was the time to let you know - didn't want you finding out from anyone else," she said. Lyall nodded for her to continue.

"The apothecary is nearly finished. We'll probably have a small get-together to celebrate its opening in February, which I'll let you know about. I've asked Isaac to partner with me in the venture. Most of the time, I'll be running it on my own or until I have enough business to get a shopkeeper, but when I can't be there, he'll take over for me," she explained. She then set her cup down and gathered her nerve. "He'll be running it for me after we publish. I'll be going to Hungary for some time to research with Amrit and Lescos."

Lyall's eyes widened. "Hungary?" he echoed. "For how long? What could you possibly be going there for?"

Rowan shrugged. "I'm not sure how long. There's a very specific species of flower there that I need to study, so it depends on that I guess. Belby was sure that it held some sort of key to finding a cure, and I'm determined to follow through with it," she said steadily. "I will be publishing our treatment before I leave though, and Isaac has promised to distribute it for me while I'm away." She looked shiftily up at Lyall, who was gazing at her warily. "Will you... will you tell him?"

Lyall's gaze melted sadly. He nodded and smiled. "Of course," he said softly. Rowan smiled weakly and then stared back down at her tea.

It had been nearly two months now since the dark days that had taken so many from her. She and Mina had stood slowly from the rubble and carried each other through the haze, both blind and stumbling after losing their dearest friends. Neither of them had seen Remus since he'd left her sitting in her flat alone, face cast upward into the sun. She heard bits of news about him from Lyall every now and then, but for the most part, she knew that the rift between them had finally broken - that the rift between him and the Order had broken. It seemed he was beyond all of them, a wandering ghost looking for those he'd lost, not realizing that he, too, was dead.

Then Lyall's face darkened.

"What of the Longbottoms? Do you know how they're doing?" he asked quietly. Rowan grimaced at the thought of Frank and Alice.

"They're-" she choked. Their blank stares flashed through her mind. Barty Crouch Jr.'s thrashing mugshot in the Daily Prophet whispered faintly. "They're unwell - I don't think they'll ever be the same again," she said.

Lyall's mouth twisted. "Is it true what they say about them - about what happened?" he asked.

Rowan nodded sadly. "Moody's the one who found them. Alice sent for help when they realized what was happening, but by the time the Aurors got there..." She shook her head of all the terrible images that followed - of gaping mouths and white hair. "They caught them at least," she spat darkly. She thought of tiny Neville, who was now in his grandmother's care. The poor boy - was it kindness or cruelty that his parents were still alive?

It had been the Lestranges, of course. She bristled at the very thought of Bellatrix. She was very glad that the woman was in Azkaban already, for she was sure that she would murder the woman if ever given the chance. She would relish it greatly.

But what had surprised her the most was that Barty Crouch Jr. had also been caught with them.

She had read the trial transcripts out of some sick need to torment herself, to spitefully see that Bellatrix got what she deserved. Bellatrix had been unrepentant, as everyone had expected. But Barty - she repressed a shudder. The poised young man she had come to know and even respect in a way - it didn't seem right. She couldn't imagine his voice over the rambling pleas written across the paper, his terrified tears. Part of her wanted to see him, to ask why he'd done it. After all, he'd seemed just as sick of the war as she had been towards the end. Perhaps they'd forced him there. She wanted to believe that. She felt as if she were still spiraling in that twisted alternate reality. Perhaps she'd fallen down a rabbit hole and was still within a terrible dream.

"Thank Merlin," Lyall said, nodding in agreement. "And good riddance. They deserve to rot in Azkaban." His gaze then softened a bit, and she knew the thought of Azkaban had reminded him of Sirius. "How is Mina? I can't imagine how hard it's been for her," he said quietly.

Rowan smiled softly. "She's okay. She's doing better," she said. "She's taken some time away from the Ministry. They're making her go through department-mandated therapy, but I'm not sure if it's really doing her any good. I mean, it's not like anyone can really relate to what she's gone through."

Lyall nodded thoughtfully. "She never got to see Sirius again, did she?" he asked softly.

Rowan shook her head sadly. "No, none of us did. Mina tried, but he turned her away. He didn't want to see any of us," she said. Her mouth twisted - even after these two months, the thought of her dear friend still twisted a knife in her heart. "Even now, I just don't understand it. I mean, it doesn't make sense, does it? Of all people... Sirius. It just doesn't make sense. And even if what they say about him is true, why wouldn't he want to see us?"

Her hands trembled slightly as she thought of his roguish smile, his hearty laugh. He'd always been the bravest out of all them. Nothing about it made any sense.

"I know that all of the evidence points to him, but I just can't shake this feeling. I can't believe that he would betray them, betray us," she continued quietly in a breath. "Mina and I have talked it through over and over, and we still haven't come any closer to understanding what happened that night." She smiled bitterly. She thought of her dear friend, usually so composed and cool, broken and in tears in her arms. "Maybe we're just blinded by our biases. I mean, everyone else seems convinced. Maybe we're just shutting our eyes to the obvious."

Lyall watched Rowan sadly, his heart aching for this sad young woman. To have lost so much at such a young age - it seemed much too cruel.

"And what about your family?" he urged, pushing past this somber topic.

Rowan smiled warmly, and Lyall felt a bit of relief at the sight. "Mum's doing well. She's really excited about the orphanage, now that it's finally starting to come together. She said that you should come over for tea soon and to see the progress on the house," she said happily. Lyall nodded in agreement. Her smile then broadened. "And Alfred - well, he seems to be doing better than all of us," she said conspiratorially.

Lyall raised an eyebrow. She grinned.

"He and Isaac are seeing each other," she declared proudly.

Lyall's eyes widened with surprise. "Really? But Remus told me that Isaac had rejected Alfred when they were in school."

Rowan nodded, still smiling. She could barely contain her excitement as she thought of her uncle-figure and business partner. The knowledge that anyone had found happiness in these dark times was thrilling. She was even more ecstatic that it was Alfred and Isaac.

"Yeah, I was surprised to find out that he was even gay," she explained. She thought back to that hurried conversation she and Mina had eavesdropped on in her family's kitchen and the dazed explanation he'd given her later. "He recently confessed to Alfred that what happened all that time ago was a mistake. He'd been so scared of coming out that he rejected Alfred despite always being in love with him too. It had been tormenting him for years, and after seeing him again after all this time, he realized that he needed to finally do something about it. So now they're together! It's about time, right?"

Rowan beamed. Lyall stared a little dumbstruck as he let the story sink in. The young woman in front of him seemed to glow with happiness for the couple, despite all of the hardships that had been forced upon her. Then his lips spread into a happy smile. She was such a good girl. And if Alfred and Isaac had been able to finally reconnect after so many years apart, then perhaps there was hope for Rowan and Remus in the future too. He wanted to believe it desperately.

Rowan bent down to tie up her boot laces. She could feel the cold already seeping into her from the doorway as she prepared to leave the Lupins' house. One of her arms had laced through a sleeve, hanging off her frame awkwardly. She then staggered to her feet and finished shrugging on her coat before turning back up to look at Lyall one last time.

He was still as tall and distinguished as ever, though his hair had begun to take on a lighter shade of gray. Her heart clenched slightly as she thought of Remus' peppered locks - would it be much longer before his was as light as his father's?

"Will I see you again before you leave?" he asked.

Rowan nodded. "Yes, I'll try to stop by again soon, but if I don't, I'll be sure to send you an invitation to the apothecary opening," she said earnestly. She smiled up at him warmly. "Thanks for having me over again. I'm really glad I was able to see you," she said genuinely.

Lyall smiled and reached forward, placing a fatherly hand on Rowan's head. She giggled slightly, feeling very girlish for a moment. He patted her hair gently and assessed her briefly.

"Take care of yourself, Winnie. Come see me anytime you like. I'll be here," he said kindly. Rowan nodded eagerly.

"I will," she promised. He smiled again.

As she walked through the crunching grass once more, the chill of December seemed slightly less severe. She paused for a moment halfway down the Lupin's hill and closed her eyes. Breathing in the cold winter air, she released a slow breath. She didn't look to watch it float up to the sky, but she felt as though she could ride on it slowly upward. She felt it join the heavy gray clouds above, which seemed to reach down and graze her cheek with an icy touch. She opened her eyes and looked up.

It had begun to snow.

The next day, in the cold snowy streets of Diagon Alley, a young witch nervously stood in front of a sparkling new shop. The wooden frames of the windows and door shone pristinely in the bright winter light. The lacquer sparkled red and yellow and gold. Above the door hung what looked like a new sign, but it remained covered in a dark cloth. The levels above still seemed to be under repair. Through the windows, one could see a series of new but empty shelves. The shop was obviously not open yet for business.

Would she be here? The young girl's hands balled up into tight fists, holding onto her determination. She'd prepared for this. She wouldn't go home without a yes. She took a deep breath and stepped forward, pushing open the cold, slickly polished door. A bell chimed overhead, announcing her entrance. She stepped into the shop for what she hoped was the first of many times to come.

Rowan sat on the cold basement floor of her new laboratory with an array of boxes scattered around her. The newly installed bright lights reflected off of the spotless glossy tiles. She glanced between the boxes with her eyebrows furrowed in frustration – she had really done a very poor job of organizing these. She couldn't remember where she'd put anything.

For the past two months, the apothecary had been undergoing a series of rapid reconstruction. Though the additional floors above the shop were still in process, it was amazing how quickly the original space had been rebuilt – architectural magic was truly an incredible thing. She had made several notes to research it more thoroughly. Although the office and roof garden would not be ready for another few months to come, she was sure she could reopen the apothecary by the end of February. She smiled quietly as she thought of Belby. He wouldn't have believed the sight of how clean and new everything looked. Her smile broadened a bit as she imagined his conflicted grimace of embarrassment.

Then the bell rang from upstairs, and she cursed quietly to herself. Why didn't she lock the door behind her?

"We're not open yet!" she shouted up the stairs. She listened carefully but didn't hear the bell ring again.

"We're not open yet!" she shouted again, but still no response.

Cursing again, she hauled up onto her feet and trudged towards the stairs. Old Alexander had certainly been useful for this reason, if nothing else – perhaps she should invest in a doorman of sorts herself.

When she reached the top, there was a small, thin young woman with pale blonde hair carefully perusing the various empty shelves and stray boxes. Rowan's chest leapt with surprise.

"Claire? Claire Verloren?" she asked disbelievingly. The girl turned with a startled jump and smiled sheepishly. Rowan felt her face spread into a grin. "Merlin, it is you!" she exclaimed, bounding up to the girl. She swept the small girl into a fierce hug. The young woman grinned bashfully and embraced her back tightly.

"Hi, Rowan," she squeaked happily. As Rowan released her, Claire gazed up at her former tutor with obvious admiration.

"What are you doing here?" Rowan asked. She assessed the blonde girl quickly. "My god, you're tall now. I haven't seen you in ages! You're – what – seventeen now?"

Claire beamed at her with a light blush. "Still sixteen – just turned in June; on Christmas holiday from my Sixth Year now," she replied happily.

"Wow, I feel old," Rowan laughed. "You'll be taking your N.E.W.T.s next year then. Any idea of what you'll be pursuing after you graduate?" Rowan still felt awed by how much her former pupil had grown. She couldn't believe it had been so long already. She mentally counted the years and realized how much time had passed without her realizing it.

Claire's blush deepened. She shifted slightly and looked to be thinking with great effort. Rowan raised an eyebrow.

"That's actually why I came to see you," Claire said finally. She seemed to be struggling to hold Rowan's gaze without averting her eyes with embarrassment, and Rowan felt her chest swell with fondness for the girl – she was still as shy and sweet as ever.

"How about we move down to the lab then? It's a bit messy – I'm unpacking my equipment right now - but you can talk to me about it down there," she said, gesturing towards the stairs. Claire nodded eagerly and followed her down.

As they situated themselves at Rowan's desk in the basement, Claire took in all of the scattered Potion Making equipment, eyes widening with awe at her great collection of books and cauldrons. Rowan smiled and thought warmly of how similarly she'd reacted the first time she'd stepped foot into Belby's laboratory. She suddenly missed her master terribly.

"So what did you want to talk about?" Rowan asked kindly. Claire blushed again and fidgeted with her hands in her lap. The simple movement struck Rowan as eerily familiar. A voice nagged at her quietly from the back of her head.

"Well, I'll be going through recruitment next year, and like you said, I need to be considering my next steps for after I graduate," she started shyly. Her hands balled up tightly in her lap as if holding onto her courage.

She paused, but Rowan waited patiently. "Well, you see, I… I was thinking…" she started again but then stopped, choking on her own words. Her voice trembled with anxiety, and Rowan felt bad for her. She'd always been a painfully shy girl, and no matter how much time she'd spent tutoring her back at Hogwarts, the only time she'd ever seen her really relaxed was when she had her nose in a book.

She assessed her quietly as the young girl gathered her nerve. Her hair had gotten quite long over the years. It hung loosely in a golden plait that shimmered prettily in the bright light of the lab. Her eyes were as round and blue as ever, set into a soft face with a small mouth. Rowan thought amusedly that she'd make a very pretty doll.

"I'm interested in going into Potions after I graduate," Claire finally blurted out.

Rowan was startled by the suddenness of her statement but gathered herself quickly and smiled. She was extremely pleased with the idea of her old mentee pursuing the same career. "And you wanted advice on how to go about finding the right Potions Master to apprentice for?" she suggested gently. Claire's face reddened again, but her mouth took on a determined line.

"No," she said defiantly, "I want to be your apprentice."

Rowan's mouth almost fell open. Her shock nearly knocked the breath from her lungs. She had to steady herself before speaking again.

"Claire, I'm not a licensed Potions Master yet, and I'm very inexperienced, even as a Potioneer," she said slowly. "I barely had any time with my own master, and even then, it was a very… peculiar apprenticeship. There are plenty of other talented Potions Masters who would be willing to take you on as an apprentice and give you a much better education than I could. I have plenty of colleagues I can connect you with if you need a place to start."

Rowan offered a kind smile with the suggestion but felt the tension in her chest. She saw Claire's face waver slightly with fear, but then she seemed to draw herself even taller. Rowan felt a trickle of ice crawl up her neck at the hard look she gave her.

"I know you're young and inexperienced and everything," Claire rambled shakily. Her face seemed to have permanently been stained red, and her hands trembled in her lap. But she continued onward with determination: "But I don't want anyone else as my master. I want to study under you and only you – anyone else and it won't be worth it," she declared.

Rowan stared hard at the blonde girl. Claire held her gaze nervously but firmly, and the older woman saw a fire in her eyes that she'd never before seen there. Her stomach clenched painfully.

"Why me though?" she asked carefully. She eyed the young girl skeptically. Claire trembled slightly under her gaze, but her mouth suddenly took on a harder line, her eyes a brighter blaze.

"Because you're the best," she said fiercely. Rowan felt her own face burn slightly at the girl's blunt compliment. "You've always been the best, even when you were at Hogwarts. Everyone said so! You're not even a Potions Master yet, and you're already publishing an Order of Merlin-worthy formula. I don't care what licenses you've got or how many years of experience you've had. You're the only person that I want as my master."

The words were knocked from Rowan's lungs. She stared disbelievingly at the girl in front of her, barely breathing. Her own memories of Belby came rushing back, but instead of nostalgia or warmth, she felt the chill of fear.

"How do you know about my research?" she asked in a hushed tone. It came out harsher than she'd intended, and Claire flinched slightly. "I'm not publishing for another month. There's no way you could know about that."

Claire's mouth trembled, eyes wide, but the fire was still there. "I remember you talking about wanting to apprentice specifically for Damocles Belby. There's only one thing that he was really researching, and I figured you must be close by now. That's what you're still working on, isn't it?" she asked nervously.

Rowan stared hard at the blonde. Did she really want to apprentice under her so badly that she'd gone so far to research all of her work history? What did she know about Belby? Didn't this mean that she knew about the nature of her work? About the subject?

"You don't know what you're asking of me," she said quietly. Her breath came in creeping inches. Her lungs clenched painfully, but she couldn't find the air. "This isn't just a matter of learning from someone you admire. The content of my work isn't something you just jump into."

"I know," Claire said, "I know about Belby's work, and I want to help you."

Rowan's fear seemed to seep into her very bones. Was this punishment for burdening her own master?

"Claire, this isn't about ethics or doing the right thing," she said carefully. "It's dangerous and isolating. There is no glory, no awards worth anything that will ever make up for the work and the sacrifice. I've lost much more than you can imagine to the path that I've chosen, and I certainly would not ever wish it upon you."

Rowan's eyes burned into Claire. Her heart was pounding in her head with fear. She needed to knock this dangerous idea from the girl's head – she had no idea what she was getting herself into.

"I know all of that," she started fiercely, but before she could continue, Rowan cut her off.

"No," she interrupted. She was speaking harshly now, rudely, but she couldn't let this good person, this kind girl, to go the same way she had. She needed to cut this off now. "No, you think you know. You think! But you have no idea. You have no fucking clue." Her voice trembled. She thought of Belby's burning skin, of the heavy scars upon Remus' face. Why was this happening?

"When I was sixteen, I thought I knew too. I was convinced that I was strong enough, smart enough, but it's much more terrible, much lonelier than you can possibly imagine. I've lost both my master and my father because of my involvement in this. I will not put you at risk as well. I will not have you on my conscience," she declared angrily.

Claire cowered under Rowan's heat with wide, watery eyes. Rowan stared her down with a furious fire. This girl was too small, too frail. There was no way she'd be able to handle the harshness of this world, this lifestyle. She needed to make the final push, scare her away before she made a huge mistake. But before she could continue, Claire spoke again.

"It's because of Remus, isn't it? That's why you keep going," she said. Her voice was so small, like a tiny bell. It trembled in the space between them so quietly, but it shook Rowan to the core. She felt as if her blood stopped flowing.

"What do you know about that?" Rowan hissed.

"He's a werewolf. He's the reason you've chosen to do this," the blonde girl responded quietly. Rowan's throat clenched painfully. She couldn't breathe.

"I know," Claire said carefully. "I know he's a werewolf, and I know the reason your master worked so hard was because his wife was a werewolf." Her voice seemed to grow with strength as she spoke, and by the time she finished, Rowan could barely hear a tremble.

Rowan stared at the girl with disbelief. How could she know all of this? When could she have possibly discovered Remus' secret? They'd only had two years with her at Hogwarts, and Rowan had even made sure to spread false rumors about his scars through this girl so that no one would suspect his condition. Claire seemed to read her mind.

"I figured it out in DADA last year while we were studying lycanthropy. He just popped into my head during class one day, and suddenly, it seemed so obvious. I couldn't believe I'd never realized it after all the times I saw him with you, but the more I thought about it, the more it made sense... He's your reason, isn't he?" Claire asked fervently.

Rowan gazed at her warily. So she knew Remus' secret – what did it have to do with her apprenticeship? Was she trying to blackmail her way into Rowan's tutelage?

"Yes," Rowan answered carefully, almost with defiance. She stared her down hotly, and Claire cowered again slightly. Rowan was amazed at how someone could waver between fear and confidence so easily. "So what is your reason?" She held her gaze hard and unwavering. She wouldn't be threatened into taking on an apprentice and certainly not by this frail girl.

"Marie Acina," Claire replied quickly. She seemed startled at the speed of her own answer.

Rowan felt her eyebrows furrow tightly with confusion. "What does Marie have to do with anything?" she asked slowly.

Claire shifted uneasily for a moment before straightening up again. "She was my aunt," she said uncomfortably.

Rowan's blood flow stopped again, eyes widening. "Your aunt?" she asked breathlessly.

Claire nodded jerkily. "She was my mother's older sister. She died before I was born obviously, but my mum still talks about her all the time." She wrung her hands desperately. "She's… She's the one thing my mother regrets more than anything – she was too afraid and too young to really do anything for her before she died. It was even harder back then for werewolves, and I don't know… I just- I want to do something. I can't explain why I feel this way about someone I've never even met, but I just have to. It's not right!"

Claire's large blue eyes glowed brightly in her pale face, small mouth twisting nervously. Her hands fidgeted tightly in her lap. Rowan imagined a long scar running up her neck, circles beneath those large eyes and suddenly wanted to laugh at the cruel irony of it all. Of course! She was the spitting image of Marie! She had seen the poor, frail woman seated in that same spot with her old clothes and her graying hair and the wondrous look of adoration in her huge eyes. How had she not seen it before? How had she never noticed how familiar Marie had looked, how she'd already known that face long before she'd met Belby?

Rowan's lips began to tremble. Claire's eyes widened with horror at the small movement, but Rowan was beyond propriety. She knew somewhere that she should feel guilty, but the despair erupted from her lungs almost painfully. There was anger boiling up her throat, into her eyes. She thought of Belby's trumpeting laughter echoing around the laboratory. She wanted to roll onto the cold floor, smash her face into it with fury and frustration. She wanted to turn over and see her old master laughing on the ground next to her, wanted to reach out and feel him alive and well again. She covered her eyes with her hands. The light was suddenly too painful. She felt wetness beneath her palms as the desperation peaked and leaked from her eyes. It was too much – too much.

"Fuck," she cursed breathlessly. "Fuck!"

She leaned back in her chair with her hands still over her eyes as she steadied her breathing. The room echoed loudly with silence. Claire remained seated in her chair, unmoving and unspeaking. Rowan's breath came harshly, shakily.

"Why is this happening?" she whispered into the still space.

Is this how you felt, Master Belby? Will you forgive me for this too?

"God damn it," she whispered. Claire didn't respond, and she didn't remove her hands from her eyes. She was afraid to see the girl's face. This was a terrible idea. She couldn't believe she was even considering this, after all of the pain she had brought her own master. Perhaps this was her punishment.

She slowly removed her hands. They slid down and hung limply at her sides, but she kept her gaze upward at the bright lights above. The light stung her eyes sharply. She breathed in a deep sigh, inhaling slowly and exhaling shakily. She then sat up slowly and brought her gaze to meet Claire's levelly. The blonde girl still looked at her with mild horror but a light hope in her eyes. Rowan thought of the glowing field of flowers.

"Okay," she said softly. Claire's eyes widened with disbelief. Her eyes seemed to quiver with emotion, lips pulling hesitantly - she was unsure if she could smile or not. But Rowan's gaze remained hard. It immediately sobered the younger girl.

"I'm going to give you the same ultimatum my master gave to me," she said sharply. Claire perked up at attention. "If you can pass your Potions N.E.W.T. with a perfect score and an O in Herbology, then I will take you on as an apprentice," she said quietly. Claire's face seemed to drain of blood at the thought, but she kept her gaze firm. "Once I have settled in here, you will also have weekly research assignments with me via owl. I've already scoured basically every book in the Hogwarts library, so I will send you my own research notes. You will produce iterations of formulas I develop and analyze my own raw data. I will not give you breaks during holidays, and I expect you to sleep very little throughout the school year. If you can do all of this without quitting or messing up, then we'll discuss your apprenticeship next June, but unlike when I tutored you, I will not hold your hand; I will not go easy on you; I will not give second chances. This is a hard life, and any apprentice that I take on must be even harder. Do you understand?"

Claire seemed to be frozen to her seat. She stared wide-eyed at Rowan for a moment, still and taut. But just as Rowan felt her diaphragm drop, Claire's eyes blazed heatedly again, and her head was nodding furiously.

"I'll do all of it," she declared fiercely. "I will. I will!" She was leaning forward as if being pulled by a cord in her chest. Her face was glowing with joy. Her tiny mouth had spread almost unfathomably wide into a bright grin.

"Thank you, Rowan! I promise you won't regret this! Oh, thank you! Thank you!" she exclaimed. Her eyes were so wide that Rowan worried mildly that they might burst from her face. She couldn't help the small smile that pulled her own mouth.

Rowan thought of Marie's bright eyes and the way her face had seemed so much younger when she'd smiled. Would she have looked like Claire if it weren't for her condition? Claire took Rowan's hands boldly between her own and squeezed them, and the older woman remembered the way Marie had shaken Belby's hand with gratitude so many years ago. She barely heard the words of excitement that spilled from the girl's mouth. She thought of all of her reasons to keep going and hoped that this girl had enough fire to match hers. She thought of how it seemed just like yesterday that she was testing herself against Belby's fire in the Great Hall at Hogwarts and wondered how things had changed so quickly. Her chest ached – he should still be here. She should be the pupil, not the mentor. How had things come to be this way?

But as the heat sparked in the young girl's eyes, Rowan saw so many memories flash over her features. She saw her own face there and then Marie's. She saw Belby. She smiled sadly. The long note of her father's favorite song rang high and clear in her heart. No matter how her life changed, some things were just destined to repeat themselves. She hoped that, unlike hers, Claire's story ended happily.