Hey guys, this chapter is a short chapter - possibly the shortest of this entire book. But I decided to publish this anyway because what I have planned for the next chapter is going to be a bit of a long one so I wanted to at least give you guys something. It might take a while (heads up) because next week is midterms for me. So I won't have time to write. Just keep that in mind.

Thank you to everyone who has read/reviewed/alerted! You are all awesome.

Please enjoy this mini-chapter as the next installment of ABAWS:B5

"Be careful, alright?" Ben requested gently, though his face was lined with worry, as he held Ursula in his arms.

She rolled her eyes, "I'm getting away from the fighting." She pointed out. "Besides, the only reason we're going is because Florida air is supposed to be good for Da—Harold."

"I know. But that means you're farther away from me."

"Aww, come on, you sap. I'll be back for the party your father is throwing and then I'll be back again for Christmas. Then we are staying back at home. It's only going to be a week. We're going to see each other and when we don't we can just talk with the journals. Sirius gave you his, right?"

Ben nodded, "I know but…"

"Listen," Ursula said forcefully as she cupped his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her, "I am going to be fine. I'm traveling across the bloody ocean away from all this for a week. It's you I worry about. You're going to be here in the thick of things and now that we know Voldemort has it out for you, you need to write me in that journal every night that you made it home safely. Are we clear?"

"Crystal." He assured.

"Good. Now let's get off this train." Ursula grabbed his hand and pulled him after her. Their trunks had already been removed yet they were some of the last students to get off the train.

As opposed to the usual hustle and bustle of the platform and the general cacophony that happened, the station was tense. The second that kids were reunited with their parents, they were either immediately apparated back home or the muggle families drove off as quickly as possible. Even though his friends had left just a few minutes before him, Ben noticed that Peter and Remus had already left with their parents and that Elyse was currently heading over to the muggle side of the platform with Lily. James was standing with Sirius and Mrs. Potter, their baggage already gone. The second that Ursula reached them, they all instantly latched onto each other and disappeared.

"Ben, look at you," Gideon cheered when he saw his pseudo brother-in-law. "Swear you're going to catch up to me."

It was weird when Ben realized that Gideon was right; he was now just barely an inch shorter than Gideon. Growing up Gideon, standing at just over six feet and three inches, had always been this giant of an older person in Ben's head. Now they were practically looking each other in the eye. Though he had seen him at the secret Order meetings every other Friday, they hadn't been that physically close to each other.

"You're taking me home?" Ben questioned, his mind instantly going to something being wrong with his parents. "Where's my mom and dad?"

"Too dangerous. They knew that students were heading home today so the risk was too high. I got sent on the retrieval party."

"Party?"

Gideon subtly nodded towards a number of witches and wizards that lined the platform, "A party. And not one of the fun type."

Ben shook his head, "Why does a 'party' need to come get me?" He complained.

Gideon's face lost all its usual mirth, "Because you're the Minister's son and Voldemort's already shown that he wants to send a message to your dad."

The mention of Annabelle made both men (because it was impossible to consider Ben a child at this point) flinch.

"Alright. Let's get out of here." Ben latched onto Gideon's arm and it with a crack, they were gone.

Peter woke up the next day from something very odd. His mother was in the kitchen crying and his step father was standing next to her and simply held her to him. She was sitting in a chair, sobbing borderline hysterically, unable to fully explain what had happened.

"Mum?" Peter asked as he walked into the kitchen.

Instantly, Mrs. Pettigrew looked up at her son. When she saw him, more tears fell down her face. She jumped to her feet and pulled Peter into a hug so tight that he was sure that if she held on for long enough, he would choke to death.

"Mum, what's wrong?" He asked meekly.

She was crying too much to answer so Roger explained, "An owl showed up about an hour ago. One of your father's friends had some of his possessions and when he passed, the family sent them our way."

Peter felt crushing despair and reinvigorating hope at the same time. His father was the stuff almost of legend for him. He had no actual concrete memories of his father but he knew him from stories. He was brave, he was honorable; he was the reason he asked the Sorting Hat to put him in Gryffindor. He was all that Peter ever wanted to be. But now…he was consorting with Slytherins and Death Eaters as he betrayed his friends in the worst possible way. What kind of person did that? What sort of Gryffindor did that to his friends? His father would be so ashamed of him.

"There's a journal…the dates in the cover said that it covers some of his years in Hogwarts. You should read it," Roger said as he handed Peter a well-worn, brown leather bound journal. Peter snatched it out of his hands. Anything of his father's possessions didn't deserve to be soiled by the muggle who stole his wife's hand.

Mrs. Pettigrew pulled herself away from her son and went back to the table where some of his others things were laid out. "If you don't mind, I would like a moment alone." She said softly, tears still running down her face. Roger nodded and after kissing her on the cheek, he left the room.

Peter had immediately left and retreated to his room. For the next twenty minutes, he simply stared at the journal of the man who had left him fatherless at just a few months old. Rage surged through Peter's blood when he thought about all the things he missed out on. His dad never taught him how to fly a broom, never took him out to Zonko's, never read him books as a child, never took him to get his first wand….never anything. It wasn't fair.

That man who had been so perfect and marvelous and the epitome of what every Gryffindor should be was nothing to Peter. Peter had tried his entire life to live up to the expectations his father set for him but looking at that journal, he realized that he wasn't his father. His dad left him, just like his friends had abandoned him. Was there something that wrong with him that everyone he cared about left him behind?

Still, Peter had to know. He snatched the book off his desk and sat down on his bed to read the first page. What he read blew all his preconceived notions and beliefs about his father out of the water, leaving behind a devastatingly clear realization; he was exactly like his father.

September 1st, 1947

Had I woken up today knowing the outcome of what was to be, the chances are I wouldn't have come here. I have been sorted into Gryffindor. I must admit…I am appalled. The first thought in my mind was my friends. How would they tolerate having a Gryffindor as a friend? We had all intended to be sorted into Slytherin, for we are all of the proper bloodlines and we all have a shrewd sense of the world, a certain charisma that is undeniable, determination, and of course a great ambition. The idiotic Hat that once sat on the fool's head said that I had bravery and integrity belonging only to the Gryffindor House. I honestly fought, I tried. I swore to my friends when we were able to speak to each other in the halls. Thank Merlin they have found it in their hearts to forgive me. It was not my fault, they assured.

Now that I've had a few hours to let the shock fade away and reality settle back in, I think that this might end up being a good thing. Perhaps I don't have bravery like the other fools but I have the bravery and nerve to be different. I shall take my unfortunate situation and use it to my advantage. Who knows what great secrets lay in Gryffindor Tower?

Elyse looked around her bare room. All her possessions she kept at home were there. The posters and pictures she had up were homey and they added personality. Her soft blue rug warmed her bare feet as she stood in the middle of the room. It wasn't dusty from all her time away; she was certain her mother dusted. It was the same room she had for the last seventeen years of her life. This room had been her sanctuary, her little hide away.

As a child, her magic had set her apart from the other children. Sure, there were a few that would speak to her and spend time with her. Unfortunately the majority didn't want to spend time with the weirdo freak who made weird things happen. And she couldn't even blame them. How could they know that something actually was different about her…something that made her stand apart from everyone else in her village. It was something that was pure and beautiful and...well…magical.

Now it was a curse. Every noise she heard, she flinched, her hand going straight to her pocket to grab her wand. The wind wasn't howling, it was Voldemort flying up to kill her and all her loved ones. It wasn't her mother dropping a pan in the kitchen or her Sean slamming his bedroom door shut. No, it was Death Eaters apparating in to torture them and then kill them all.

The worst part was that Pat wasn't there anymore. He was now in Dublin, planning on his university plans, living a normal life, going on day by day without worrying that he was going to die.

It sucked. There was no other way to put it. Here she was, number one on Voldemort's list, and screwing it up. Everyone and anyone she spoke to was in danger of dying just because they associated with her. It was so incredibly unfair, it actually hurt.

Elyse gasped as a terrible shooting pain went through her chest. She pressed her hand against her sternum and ungracefully plopped down on the edge of her bed.

"I can't do this anymore," she whispered to no one right before she dissolved into tears.

Remus sat in front of the fire place reading a book, waiting for the nightly call. They were all given some form of communication. James, Sirius, and Ursula were sharing a journal, Ben got the other one, Peter got one mirror and Elyse had the other. When they realized that they had run out of communication devices, James had offered to call Remus via floo every night to let him know that everyone had responded to their messages and was safe (for the time being). It did little to settle the tension and worry but it settled them somewhat.

Unfortunately, there were nights when James was late. For the last three nights, James had called at exactly nine o'clock at night to report that everyone was home and alive. It was currently pushing quarter past.

"Remus, dear, are you alright?" His mom asked.

Remus jumped, not realizing that he had been staring into the fire for far too long that could be considered good for his eyes. There incredibly dry and burned when he blinked. He nodded hastily, "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine."

She obviously didn't believe him since she went to sit next to him. She patted her shoulder and, giving into the internal child that had never grown up, Remus leaned on his mom's shoulder. She pulled him close and tried to flatten his long hair (he should definitely look into getting a haircut before Christmas).

"I'm so sorry that you have to deal with this," she murmured, "You're my son. I'm supposed to be able to protect you from all this and yet here you are, terrified that your friends are dead. That shouldn't be your concern. Oh, you should all be out causing trouble and doing stupid things!"

"Mom, I haven't been that person since I was five."

She sniffled and Remus realized with horror that she was actually crying.

"Oh, I know. But you're still my little boy! You don't deserve any of this! I just wish I could take all this away."

"Me too…me too."

Before the conversation could continue, the fire turned green. Remus scrambled from the sofa and knelt in front of the fire. James's face appeared in the fire, "Oi, Moony, you there?"

"I'm right here Prongs. How's everyone?"

"Alive."

And with that, like all the previous nights, the call ended and James's face disappeared. The fire returned to its natural color.

They had agreed that in case the floo call was being monitored or listened in on, they would keep it as short and vague as possible. They didn't want to risk information falling into the wrong hands. Considering that their group consisted of a werewolf, three notorious blood traitors, the Minister's son, and possibly the most powerful seer in the world, information that got into the wrong hands could be absolutely devastating.

"I know you wish you could see them, but look at the bright side: the Minister's Christmas Party is in two days. You'll get to see them all then," his mom tried to comfort him. But it wasn't that much of a comfort. A large congregation of people who publically aligned themselves with the Ministry in the war…it was like a recipe for disaster and death. Remus almost wished that none of would be going. Yet he couldn't deny that his heart leapt with joy at the thought of seeing his beloved friends again.