To answer some of the questions I received (without spoilers):

This novel has seven parts, including the Prologue, eight chapters each (the same structure as the "Spider Web"). Plus the Epilogue, which is four long chapters. It is more than twice shorter than the "Web".

The ages of the characters are:

James, Scorpius and Xenia - about 21 (since it is four years after the last novel and they were seventeen then)

Lily - correspondingly, 19.

I have to admit that the characters seem to be much more worldly at their respective ages than I was back then. On the other hand, I never had to kill a werewolf - and hope to never have to.

Chapter 3. Ron Weasley.

In the mountains, darkness fell abruptly, and the temperature plummeted accordingly, especially in the autumn. Yet he was used to the cold and the wind that pierced him to the heart, and to the icy trail. It was commonplace to him now.

He tripped again, mentioning Merlin and his underpants for the umpteenth time. He looked back – the town and its lights have fallen away far below, and so he didn't hesitate in taking out his wand and lighting it. Ascending the hill upon which they lived in the dark was very problematic, if you weren't a Muggle (they had these strange wands – flashlights – battery-operated, like the ones that his father used to put together) or were wary of being caught with the wizard's wand. And now, holding the glowing wand in his hand, Ron was taking a risk, because there was always a chance that some Muggles (tour-ists) were still out and about, the crazy folk. Luckily, in the three and a half years since they became the proprietors of the in and pub, Ron had time to get used to Muggle oddities and even grasp his father's obsession in some ways.

Ron could now see the distant lights – the windows of their home. Yet again, he thought that they had done the right thing in settling in such an isolated spot – both because they lived among Muggles (wizards did not think this mountainous area particularly interesting and did not visit often), and due to his and Sarah's particular circumstances. They could spend their full moons here in relative tranquility. It wasn't very exciting for Bertie though…

Ron entered the house – the parlour was warm from the fire burning in the fireplace, next to which Sarah dozed off under the old throw. She was pale, which was especially apparent with the flames in the background. Looking at her, Ron realized how empty the house was for Sarah after Bertie left for school. The piano stood silently and lonely in the corner, all toys were put away, soap bubbles no longer flew about. On the other hand, the girl was safe (from them) for the first time in years and was around other young wizards. Like Albus Potter, with whom she became friends even before getting to Hogwarts, as she wrote to her mother.

An irony of fate… How soon would Bertie and Al realize that they were almost related? How would they react?

"Are you hungry?" Sarah looked at him with sickly eyes. With every day they got duller.

"No. I had supper with Peter," Ron walked over and sat down at her feet. "How are you? Shall I call the doctor?"

"Three of them have visited already. There is no need to confound the poor Muggles any further," Sarah smiled faintly, stroking his red hair. "What did Peter say?"

Peter was managing everything at the inn, the only other wizard in this god-forsaken place, elderly, without a family. He knew everything about his employers and was compassionate to their plight, adored Bertie and frequently took her with him down to the inn. If not for Peter, they wouldn't have been able to have a business in town, the risk would have been too great.

It was Peter who first proposed buying the old inn from a bankrupt Muggle owner, and he single-handedly managed the budding business. In exchange, Peter asked for little: to live at the inn, because he had nowhere to go and no one to go to. Ron agreed to it then and he never regretted his choice, even though he had to write to George and ask him to sell Ron's share of the store. George got very peeved with him, and sent the money without any sell-out.

"They say it will snow soon," Ron took her slim hand, and cradled it within his large palms, to warm it up. "The ski-ers will swarm the place, but we have to do something about you, because no doctor will travel here over snow and ice."

"Oh, the faun with them," Sarah closed her eyes. "Just a waste of money. I wrote Bertie a letter, asking her to be careful about mentioning you or our… peculiarity…"

Ron nodded – her habit of routing the conversation away from her health no longer distracted him.

Something needed to be done. And quickly, because Sarah was wasting away before his very eyes. No healer wanted to have anything to do with her, upon realizing that she was a werewolf. The memory of those beasts showing up in England four years ago (it was widely covered by the professional journals on healing, lycanthropy, and other topics) was still fresh, and so was the fear. And Muggle doctors threw up their hands in defeat, clueless about wizarding afflictions.

"Al will figure it out, you know how curious and astute he is," Ron recalled the letters from Rose, with the detailed account of all that has been happening with them since his departure four years ago. She wrote to him, all this time, even though he did not write back. He replied only thrice; he did not want to get too close to his former life, even though sometimes the longing for it became overwhelming. This is his life, with Sarah, and he refused to lose her the way he lost that other one…

"You don't want that to happen though…"

"What can I do about it?" Ron got to his feet and and picked Sarah up, marveling at how frail she has become. Even when she was held by the werewolves, she did not look so ill. He had to do something, for she had saved them all, saved him…

He remembered her there, among the humans-animals. She was not allowed to leave the werewolf camp; she was kept under the Imperious curse at all times. Yet, Sarah quickly learned to resist it, to repress the alien voice inside her head. And once she ran over to Ron, who was a frequent visitor there, among his family's foes, hoping to learn of their plans.

And she, the helpless captive of the cruel Tom – the chief werewolf, who lusted after her from the moment he saw her – lived in perpetual fear, fighting back against the curse. Fighting and listening carefully to what Tom and his cronies boldly said in her presence. She listened and then she would come to Ron. And she disclosed those designs to him, the man who, she knew, was the one responsible for making her a werewolf. She told him about the attack on the Burrow, about Hermione's kidnapping. She used to tell Ron back then that he was the only one there with human eyes… And she shared her terror of being taken along to kill Harry Potter, of being forced to transform… And then he knew that he simply had to save them both: Hermione and Sarah.

He laid the girl on the bed and covered her with the blanket, racking his brain on what to do now. How to save her?

"You will get well," he whispered, standing up to leave the room. "I shall not lose you the way I lost her…"

He hurriedly put his jacket back on, exited the house and headed down the hill again, oblivious of the first snowflakes falling on the dark earth. He had to get back to the inn – Peter owned an owl. It is not the time to worry about himself or his reluctance to reconnect with his past. He must save Sarah, who saved Hermione, Harry. Who saved him – from loneliness and pain; she gave him a purpose for living. She became his family, she took the place of whom he lost forever.

She took the place of Ginny.