Chapter Seventeen: Here comes the Sun

The atmosphere at breakfast the next morning was unsettled; the students were subdued, some were red about the eyes, some were clearly angry but not wanting Dumbledore to see it… It rather felt like the aftermath of the very first mass muggle attack over a year ago, when no one was quite sure what to say or think or feel. Laughter - if any could be heard - sounded out of place and was quickly strangled and, if Lily or the other bystanders or apostates were glad The League was finished with, they were too sensible to show it.

The quiet mumbling and overall weirdness was interrupted, part way through their porridge, by Dumbledore tapping the side of his coffee cup with his teaspoon. All eyes turned to him and he rose to his feet, smiling around at the gathered students.

'Good morning,' he began. 'I realise some of you will be feeling lost this morning, like a ship without a rudder, unsure where to turn next. Some of you will still believe that I am in the wrong and that your way is better than mine.' He paused here, and cast a sympathetic glance over at Bertha Jorkins, who seemed unusually small and diminished that morning.

'What I need you to understand is that you are entitled to believe that.' There was an intake of breath and outbreak of whispering, which Dumbledore waited to die down until he started to speak again. 'I am not here to tell you what you must think or believe on matters of substance, and I embrace a difference of opinion between friends as healthy. But what I cannot allow is that you enforce your beliefs onto others, and punish those who will not comply. That is what we have been seeing over the past few months, and that is why I have been forced to shut The League down.'

He looked serious for a moment. 'It can be difficult to navigate, especially for ones so young, the difference between views which are abhorrent and which we must stand against and those that are simply different and therefore are worthy of tolerance. I can even imagine some of you may think me guilty of hypocrisy, when I say you must accept that some people think differently about you on werewolves, and then in the next breath that Death Eater ideals will not be tolerated in this school.

'There is a nuance, which may be hard to grasp, and going forward I suggest you follow this simple rule when deciding if a difference of opinion is one you can tolerate: Are they actively advocating for harm of a specific group with their opinion? Or is it just different from yours? If they wish to harm people, as Death Eaters wish to harm muggles and those wizards born of muggle families, then it is a view which you can take a stand against in good conscience. If they are not trying to hurt anyone with their view, then you must allow it to stand as part of living in a free society. However, the real struggle can come, sometimes, in accepting that those who differ from you in thought do not mean you any harm, they simply think differently - and I ask you to think critically when faced with opposition, and not allow your emotions to rule your head and sway your actions.

'If we can take anything away from this year, I hope it is the lesson that if we listen to each other with open ears and open hearts then we can find middle ground, find what we have in common rather than seeking that which divides us. We can see the value in working together where our aims meet and agreeing to cordial disagreement where they differ. But we must still listen to what is truly being said, and not make up our own arguments for what we believe the other side is saying.'

He smiled again. 'You are young - and have much to learn, and thankfully - you are in the right place to do that. No experience, no matter how painful or regrettable, is truly wasted if we can learn from it.' He stopped for a moment, and it seemed like he was about to sit down, and then he hesitated and chuckled. 'Dear me, I have got so carried away with my own words of wisdom that I forgot to tell you the really important news.' His eyes twinkled. 'Professor Malidictus relinquished his post as teacher of Defence Against the Dark Arts yesterday evening. Thus, all remaining lessons in his subject are cancelled until the end of the year and all exams in his subject likewise cancelled… unless of course, you are taking an external exam - that is to say NEWTs or OWLs, in which case the Ministry sets your test paper. This will give you all extra free time for the next couple of months, I trust you shall use it wisely.'

And with that, he really did sit down.

As it was Wednesday, the cancellation of Defence Against the Dark Arts meant the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw fourth years had an unexpected free double period first thing. ('If I'd known Dumbledore would cancel lessons, I'd have had a lie in,' James grumbled.)

Being a bit short notice for any of them to plan to do anything worthwhile, and with no one feeling like getting a head start on any homework they might have, so early in the day, most of them simply drifted outside and wandered around the lake path.

Remus was allowed out of the Hospital Wing after breakfast. He went to his first lesson (having missed Dumbledore's speech) and sat alone in the classroom for fifteen minutes before he concluded no one else was coming and he better go and see where they were. He found James, Sirius and Peter sitting outside beneath the Beech tree arguing lazily about nothing in particular.

The three girls left the castle with the vague idea of sunbathing on the lawn, though they pulled up short when they saw Petra down by the lake, with Bettina Bagshot and Sandra Lewis, throwing toast to the giant squid. Even from that distance, she looked red about the eyes.

'We should go and talk to her,' Lily said. 'Try and make up.'

'What if she's angry with us?' Mandy asked nervously, but Lily only shrugged.

'Then we give her time. But we have to try. I think it's easier for us to make the first move…' And so, hesitant and a little bit afraid, the three of them made their way to the edge of the lake though they discovered that Petra looked nothing short of terrified by the time they reached her.

'Hi, Petra,' Lily said. 'We're sorry about…' she struggled to work out what the rest of the sentence should be. '...About how everything worked out.'

'Isn't it what you wanted?' Petra said stiffly. 'For The League to disband?'

'I didn't want you to be hurt! I never wanted us to fall out… I'd like… I'd very much like for us all to be friends again.'

'I…' And then Petra's face crumpled and her shoulders began to shake. 'I'm sorry,' she gasped. 'I should have listened to you… I thought… I thought…' but what she had thought was rendered incomprehensible by her sobs. Lily hugged her, and a moment later Mandy and then Mary joined in.

'We all fell for it,' Lily said. 'None of us should ever have listened to him. Potter didn't! But we wanted answers and Malidictus gave them… It's him that should be sorry!'

'I just… wanted to fight the Dark Lord!'

'And we will… but next time we'll do it without falling out!'

Similar conversations were taking place all over the school, as apostates and true believers approached each other awkwardly and began to make up and, though it might have taken time for some of the bystanders who had received the brunt of the curses to feel so forgiving, friends who had fallen out after Lily's explosive edition of Sabrina13 found it easier to make peace.

Some habits died hard, though. Bertha Jorkins had discovered her love of snooping, of tailing people and finding out what they were up to and - even without an ultimate goal or anybody to report back to - she was not giving it up (much to Remus's exasperation). And Ellis Stebbins was never going to like werewolves, and did not bother to keep his voice down when sharing his opinions (and would not learn, no matter how many times Sirius hexed him). On the other hand, a few students actually talked about what a relief it was to not have to fit in a League patrol in the evening, as it gave them more time to finish homework or just relax and, without the weekly meetings and Malidictus's rhetoric firing them up, people began to forget quite quickly what they had been het up about in the first place.

'It feels mad,' Petra admitted, one evening. 'It was all I thought about for so long, and I was so convinced I was right … Now it feels like I've woken up from a dream.'

'More like a nightmare,' Mary said to her.

The best part for James came when Bethany Ellshaw approached him and asked if he would be willing to join the team again and play in the cup final at the weekend. (Sirius thought James ought to tell them where they could shove their cup final, but Remus told him that James' love of Quidditch and Gryffindor meant more to him than being proved right and they should be happy for him that he would get to play. Besides - Sirius had bigger things to worry about. Now Bettina and Connie and Daisy Wilcock and everyone were no longer in The League, they had remembered just how gorgeous Sirius was, and were getting very silly and giggly around him again. None of the boys were happy with this development.)

It wasn't all sunshine. People were recovering at different rates, some people let go of The League quicker than others, some of them were still inclined to think Dumbledore had got it wrong - and of course the mini Death Eaters remained as loathsome as ever. But slowly the students were remembering that not every disagreement had to result in declared enmity and hexes, and it was an irrefutable fact, proven to them by the stories in the paper, that whatever they had got up to in school had had no wider impact on the war outside their walls.

Neither the Ministry nor Lord Voldemort had paid any attention to a little club at school who went round hurling jinxes at people who didn't dislike dark creatures sufficiently loudly, and therefore the ex-League members were forced to admit that perhaps their actions had not been as important as they had once seemed.

'It used to feel like we had a purpose,' the boys overheard Lucian Riffkind say one day. 'But now I just think I wasted valuable time I could have been using to study for my NEWTS. I wrote all those letters… and for what? The Ministry hasn't listened, You Know Who hasn't fallen…'

That made the four Gryffindor boys roll their eyes. But worse than the students who complained The League had been a giant waste of time were the ones who claimed they had never been in The League in the first place, that they had never belonged and they were bystanders the whole time. 'I wish Dumbledore hadn't got rid of that charter so we could show them their signatures on the dotted line,' Sirius said. 'Wave it under their noses and make them admit what they did. It's infuriating, that they cause all that harm and now they get to slink away and pretend it didn't happen.'

But the teachers were being almost as vigilant over arguments over who supported what as they were over any continuing hexings. 'It is over,' McGonagall told her Transfiguration class on Friday. 'You have all been through a lot this year and been exposed to harmful influences. But recriminations and rehashing the past will get us nowhere. We need to put it all behind us and focus on our upcoming exams. I don't want to hear another word about it.'

And it proved that much of the school agreed with McGonagall and were happy to forget, which meant that - as the days ticked by - the school seemed a much safer and happier place to be than it had done all year.

Saturday dawned warm and golden and it was with a feeling of both relief and delight that James pulled on his Quidditch robes and picked up his broom, ready to play in the final match of the season. They would be playing Ravenclaw and the odds should be on their side. However, they had not practised as a full team in months and - for all he had no doubts in his own genius on a broomstick - James worried this would impact how well they played together. Hufflepuff were so far out in front, in terms of points (not least due to their spectacular win against Gryffindor, back when James was locked in a broom cupboard) that it would take a truly epic victory against Ravenclaw for the Gryffindors to catch up, and - with their training interrupted these past months - that did not seem likely.

Still, he was determined to try his best and still scrape as much glory as was humanly possible.

The crowd began to gather shortly after breakfast, a wall of red making up one stand and a wall of blue on the other. The teams walked out onto the pitch to thunderous applause, whistles and catcalls and, under the keen eye of Madam Hooch the two team captains shook hands. Then, she blew her whistle and they were off.

James seized the quaffle almost at once and zoomed towards the Ravenclaw goal but, before he had got halfway there, one of the Ravenclaw chasers had blocked his path. He looked for Petra or Bethany, expecting them to be in formation for him to pass to, only neither of them were there and - a moment later- he was hit by a bludger, the quaffle was dropped and the Ravenclaw chaser caught it and zipped down the pitch in the opposite direction.

Recovering from the hit, James flew after him. He could see Beth and Petra up ahead and closing in. They managed to intercept the ball, Bethany passed to Petra, Petra looked to pass it to James - and this time he realised it was him in the wrong place! Ravenclaw took possession again and, less than a minute later, scored - the quaffle soaring past Belvedere Johnson and through the middle hoop.

The blue supporters went wild, the red clad crowd groaned loudly.

'We're seeing the Gryffindor team having real difficulties,' the commentator told the crowd through his purple megaphone. 'Usually they have some of the tightest chasers in the school but they seem to be struggling to find a rhythm today…'

And James knew he was right. It was all his months of inaction. All that time he had been shunned and banned from the team, and now the whole of Gryffindor was paying the price of the Malidictus Madness that meant a bystander was not allowed to play Quidditch.

Determined to do better, and fight his way through a lack of training, James seized the quaffle as soon as Madam Hooch's whistle blew and once more hurtled towards the Ravenclaw goals, thinking he could at least score an unaided goal, even if their team work was shoddy through lack of practice.

But a solitary chaser was prey to bludgers, and the Ravenclaw beaters honed in on him. Once more, he dropped the quaffle, losing it to the Ravenclaw captain and watched in frustration as the three blue-clad chasers flew away in tight formation and took another shot on goal.

This time, Johnson was able to save it. But next time, he was not so lucky. Ravenclaw was twenty points up and James was seriously disheartened and having to fight his gloom to keep his head in the game.

But Ravenclaw scored another goal, and then another. Their crowd were cheering and screaming, while the Gryffindor supporters were quiet and desperate. Big Macca had taken off her hat and was standing in silence, looking as solemn as if she was at a funeral. Ravenclaw scored again; they were now fifty points in the lead.

And then, Petra managed to grab the quaffle and break away. Beth followed her, ready for the pass and James headed for the goal. Petra swerved one chaser, dodged a bludger and then hurled the ball at Bethany, before the second bludger unseated her. Beth caught it with the tips of her fingers and flew on determinedly. The Ravenclaw chasers darted after her like blue arrows, they were closing in… She looked up, saw James at the goal mouth, threw to him; he caught the quaffle, pivoted midair and slam-dunked it through the middle goalpost.

The score was now fifty-ten and it was the Gryffindor crowd's turn to go wild. But soon enough, Ravenclaw took possession once more, and scored again and again and again…

There was a sudden intake of breath as a shimmer of gold was seen hovering down near the pitch.

'I think that's the snitch!' the commentator yelled excitedly. 'And it's all to play for. Price and Chang are closing in…' And sure enough, Jenny and Bao, the two seekers, were locked into a steep dive, twin looks of determination etched on their faces.

'Who's it gonna be?' The commentator wondered aloud. 'Ravenclaw is in the lead, but both need this catch to win… I think Jenny's in front, she's inching ahead, she's edging it… I think she's gonna make it… I think…'

Over two hundred people watched, tense and expectant, as the two figures battled to reach the snitch first, a massive wall of silence waiting to erupt until Jenny, only a foot from the ground, stretched out her hand and…

'Yess… Price grabs the snitch! And it's a Gryffindor win! Well done, Jenny - the final score stands at one hundred and sixty to eighty to Gryffindor.'

Jenny pulled out of her dive, triumphant, the wings of the golden snitch beating furiously in her hands. Bao Chang had pulled to a stop, looking glum, but he reached out to shake her hand and congratulate her while the Gryffindor crowd yelled themselves hoarse, and the teams returned to the ground.

Dumbledore handed the cup to the Hufflepuff captain (Gryffindor had not scraped enough points to win overall, but they had come in a respectable second) and the tournament was over for another year.

'It will be just the two of us left, next year,' James said to Petra in the changing rooms, afterwards. 'Everyone else is leaving… Look, we would have lost if the snitch hadn't appeared as early as it did. Even if Jenny had caught it, Ravenclaw was pulling too far ahead. We can't let that happen again.'

'We won't. We'll train harder.' She flushed as she remembered why James had not been training in the first place. 'And we won't let anything get in the way of the team.'

'Next year will finally be our year,' James told her, and he said it with such confidence that she believed him.

Not long after the Quidditch final was the May full moon, which passed relatively uneventfully and was followed by a completely ordinary edition of Sabrina13 , which included among its pages a comparison of the best brooms on the market (Which broom? Get broomstick savvy for the new season) , a horoscope for Gemini, a potion recipe for removing blackheads ( 'It's the bubotuber pus that really gets in there and does the dirty work of clearing your pores') an article on summer robes (' fresh floral prints are in, paisley is out - do not wear it unless you want to look like last month's news' ) and an "Is your boyfriend husband material?" quiz ( 'How often does he bring you flowers? a) Every week 2) Every so often 3) Special occasions only - birthdays and Valentines 4) Never' )

('It breaks my heart,' Peter said with a perfectly straight face while they were in Potions, 'but I don't think Snivellus can be husband material… He's never brought me flowers.' Which made James and Sirius laugh and then blow kisses across the cauldrons at a very confused Sniv.)

The next week, a heat wave descended on the castle along with a deathly hush which marked the start of exam season. The weather was glorious, both the sky and lake a dazzling blue, the Forbidden Forest a distant ribbon of verdant green, and all anybody wanted to do was flop down in the shade with a jug of ice cold pumpkin juice. Unfortunately, they were locked inside their common rooms and dorms, desperately trying to cudgel their brains into remembering the recipe for a Swelling Solution or the correct spell for a Summoning Charm.

'It's inhuman, making us study in this weather,' James roared more than once but he received little sympathy, as everyone else was suffering alongside him just as much.

Their one comfort was that at least they did not have to study for a Defence Against the Dark Arts exam that year ('It wouldn't have been much fun, revising all the ways Malidictus was planning to kill me,' Remus said one evening. Sirius called Malidictus "a total berk" and they went back to reading their Transfiguration notes.)

The exams themselves weren't too bad. Admittedly, Peter's wand back fired in the middle of his Charms practical and Remus's Bedevilling Brew gave off so much thick black smoke, in the Potions exam, that he wound up choking and covered in soot.

On the other hand, Sirius excelled in their Transfiguration exam (of course he did), turning a table into a tapir and back again with absolutely no problems, and James declared their Herbology exam the easiest yet.

History of Magic was as frustrating as the lessons were boring, and Remus spent most of the exam tickling his nose with his quill as he could not remember the name of the goblin leader who had called for revolution in the late 19th century.

The translation for Ancient Runes wasn't too bad considering, and Lily, having had so much practice throughout the year, finished her Arithmancy exam an hour and a half earlier than everyone else, and walked out knowing she had scored a hundred percent. Sirius did well in his Care of Magical Creatures exam (it was Hippogriffs, and he was a natural - though Pete remained terrified) but was disappointed by a lack of toasters and teasmades in his Muggle Studies exam.

Their final exam was Astronomy - held in the dead at night at the top of the tallest tower - and they spent a couple of hours feverishly plotting star charts and calculating the movements of celestial bodies and then - just like that - it was all over, and they had nothing to do but wait for the results.

The weather remained glorious, and the cancellation of Defence Against the Dark Arts meant everyone had more free time than normal - and they all used this to enjoy the sunshine.

Much to his annoyance (and to Remus's, though he didn't admit it) Sirius found he was often followed around by a gaggle of giggling girls all trying to think up excuses to talk to him.

'I think they still want to take you to Hogsmeade,' Peter told him.

'I'm not taking anyone to Hogsmeade.'

'If you had any thought for the rest of us, you could invite a couple to the Three Broomsticks - me and James would talk to them, you could sulk in a corner with Moony.'

(Remus dropped his book, but no one was paying attention to him.)

'You and James are too busy drooling over Madam Rosmerta in the Three Broomsticks,' Sirius said (his cheeks were tinged with a little pink as well, though he seemed not to have noticed.)

'We could take them to Madam Puddifoots then…'

'Forget it, Pete, I'm not inviting a girl out just so you can pick her up. Pick one up yourself.'

'But I don't look like you!'

'Then dazzle them with your winning personality.'

'I don't have one of them either!'

'Forget it!'

He did, however, use his fanclub to his advantage once (and only once) when he called Connie Bidwell over and asked her if she would take a photo of the four of them with Remus's mum's muggle camera.

Blushing, and with trembling hands, she took the camera from Remus while the boys arranged themselves into a group. James and Sirius stood in the middle, with their arms wrapped around each other and Peter and Remus stood either side of them, crowded in close so they would all fit in. They all grinned.

'Say "Quidditch".' James said, but they ignored him, as "Quidditch" was a terrible word to say in a photo, and they kept on smiling instead.

Connie pressed the button, there was a flash which made lights dance in front of all their eyes and then Remus took the camera back and Sirius shooed Connie away. She left, managing to look both disappointed and elated at the same time.

This was the best part of the year; exams over, more freedom, summer days which seemed to last a lifetime and best of all, no League to snoop and spy and stir up trouble.

Trouble was still very much happening outside the castle walls, however. As glorious as the days at school were, they were always overshadowed by the stories in The Daily Prophet of attacks, disappearances and occasionally even deaths.

Harold Minchum - as much as the boys loathed him - did seem much more proactive than Eugenia Jenkins had been, however, and did not hide away from reporters nearly half as much.

'I know we have not come as far as we want in this current situation,'

He told Rita Skeeter, one day in June.

'But we have outlawed the Knights of Walpurgis - they are no more, and we have taken Septimus Selwyn in for questioning and I am sure we will start to see some high profile arrests before the summer is over.'

Not everyone greeted this news with pleasure, certainly not if letters written to the editor of the newspaper were to be believed.

I don't know what it's come to

Wrote "Outraged of Ottery St. Catchpole"

When respectable wizards like Septimus Selwyn are taken in for questioning. Does blood mean nothing any more? Is anyone from an old family vulnerable to being hauled in by the Ministry just because their lineage goes back a long way, and is no respect to be paid to that lineage? Things are far worse under Minchum than I feared they would be…

However, although these letters were - incredibly - plentiful, they were all anonymous. And there were no more op eds or interviews with the likes of Abraxas Malfoy and Rodolphus Lestrange. Anyone who had been high up in the Knights of Walpurgis, it seemed, had now been gagged and were allowed no air or page time to put across their support of the Dark Lord, even if they were not yet in the Ministry's dungeons.

They are being treated as criminals and outlaws without ever having been charged with a crime

Wrote "Concerned of Cackle Hill".

But Harold Minchum was dismissive of these claims.

No one has a right to an op ed in the newspaper

He told Rita, in response to all the letters of criticism the editor had received.

Nor do they have a right to be interviewed on the WWN. no matter what their family name. After careful consideration, the Ministry has declared the Knights of Walpurgis a "Hate Group" and we are no longer broadcasting the opinions and propaganda of its supporters.

Abraxas Malfoy is perfectly welcome to appear on "Gardener's Hour" to discuss his flutterby bushes, or write an op ed decrying the price of Floo Powder or share any other opinion which is not seditious or harmful. He is not "banned" from The Paper or the Wireless. But what he is not allowed to do is go on air and claim that muggleborns are inferior and muggles not worthy of human dignity.

These opinions are not worthy of respect in a free society and will not be platformed. That should not be a contentious stand for the Ministry to take.

And, though Minchum's stance still did not please everyone, and though the news was still often appalling and difficult to read, it was a welcome relief for everyone in Gryffindor that they could listen to the wireless or read the paper without having to hear the supporters of the Dark Lord making the case for enslaving muggles and defending the deaths of those who opposed them.

Selwyn's "Planets of Blood" speech should have been a turning point for the Ministry, many months ago,

Endeavour Enderby said over the WWN one sunny evening.

And The Night of The Glass Shards should have been the turning point before that. The truth is, there have been many points in time - during the current situation - where the Ministry could and should have acted. Perhaps... Perhaps we would not have lost so much if we acted earlier. But now the likes of Selwyn and Malfoy can no longer evince the stance of You Know Who we will hopefully see support for this madness begin to fade. A line in the sand has been drawn - we are on one side, the Dark Lord on the other and, without hearing his messaging, I believe more and more ordinary people will flock to our own side and abandon He Who Must Not be Named. Shutting down the Knights of Walpurgis and silencing the Death Eaters is a crucial stage in our winning of this war.

'And I expect it will prove a damn sight more effective than writing letters to the Minister about werewolves and cursing bystanders,' Sirius said, as they listened in. 'The more I think about it, the more I look back on it, the more I realise how totally mental this year has been. Malidictus was a nutter.'

'He tried to stab me with a silver knife,' Remus said dryly. 'You don't have to convince me he was a nutter.'

'But it was Minchum who let him go,' James said. 'And now it's Minchum rounding up the Death Eaters… Makes me think it isn't just Malidictus. The whole world is nuts…'

The four of them considered this gloomily for a moment, and then decided to cheer themselves up with an out of hours trip to Hogsmeade and The Three Broomsticks via the one eyed witch.

The last week of term started with yet another full moon, followed by yet another totally ordinary edition of Sabrina13, and then exam results were given out (they had all passed everything, though Remus had only just scraped by in Potions which contrasted quite sharply with the three hundred and fifteen percent Lily had got in Arithmancy) and it was time to pack their trunks in preparation of going home.

James grumbled a lot as he squashed both a toaster and a teasmade into his trunk. 'I don't know why you had to be such a nutter and collect such bulky things…' he complained to Sirius, but he took them anyway - as Walburga would destroy anything so mugglish if Sirius dared bring them into her house. He also nodded solemnly as Sirius gave him strict instructions on how to care for John over the summer ('I can't stop you throwing FLP around, but if you juggle with John, I'll hex your ears off') as Sirius was always afraid his brother Regulus, or his loathsome house elf, Kreacher, might hurt the little puffskein while his back was turned, if he ever took him home.

The end of year feast was as much fun as it was always, with the tables laden and groaning under the weight of food and the golden plates sparkling in the candlelight, and the pumpkin juice flowing. James had three helpings of Treacle Tart, Peter had two bowls of trifle and Sirius and Remus ate so much ice cream they both came down with headaches.

Afterwards, they returned to their dorm and - with the door closed and deciding they were no longer running from troubles so it didn't count - got themselves looped on cheering and calming charms. They spent their last night at school adrift on a trouble free cloud, giggling away as they lay on their beds and enjoying the tingling in their toes and noses. Being so stuffed, they didn't even get snackish while they were out of it.

The next morning was a mad rush, though, with last minute packing to finish off, lost items to find and belongings to swap. But soon enough, their trunks were locked, breakfast was done and they were heading down to the station in Hogsmeade.

James caught sight of Lily, boarding the train, and attempted to help her with her trunk. She gave him short shrift and sent him away with a flea in his ear, and he returned to his friends, blushing but defiant.

'Too bad, mate,' Sirius said to him.

'I don't know what you're talking about.'

The girls settled themselves into a compartment, ready for the long journey to London. Lily had seen Severus briefly, as he entered a compartment packed with the children of Death Eaters. 'I'm going to work harder on him this summer,' she told her friends. 'Now the likes of Malfoy can't write in the paper or talk on the wireless, Sev will be totally cut off from everything the Dark Lord is up to. I'll use this time to remind him we're best friends and that there's nothing wrong with being muggleborn. That's how we have to do it. We got it totally wrong with The League, trying to force everyone to agree with us, we need to show them why we're right. We need to reach out to people - make it personal, show them we care… My mum always says you can catch more flies with honey than vinegar, and she's right. That's what Malidictus got wrong. But if I can just be nice enough, if I can just make Sev see - while he isn't under the influence of Avery and Mulciber and everyone - then I can fix him, I know I can. I can save him.'

She said this with such quiet conviction, but - nevertheless - her friends did not look convinced.

The boys were far less concerned with saving the souls of Slytherins and more concerned with buying sweets from the trolley and having games of exploding snap. However, they became rather more serious and subdued when Sirius took out the paper, ready to do the crossword and they saw that today's edition included an opinion piece from none other than Professor Malidictus himself.

'He should be in Azkaban! What's he allowed to write bits for the paper for?' cried James in dismay.

'He still hasn't learned a thing,' Sirius said, scanning the article and trying to keep Remus from seeing too much of it. 'Stupid berk.'

'Just let me look, Sirius - he tried to stab me, remember? What can he possibly say that's worse than that?' And he plucked the newspaper from Sirius's hands (who looked none too happy about the situation) and began to read:

Although Minister Minchum should be applauded for the hard line stance he is taking in regard to the Death Eaters and his unflinching willingness to arrest those with the oldest names our society has to offer, there is yet more evil and darkness in our world which he needs to be equally unflinching while facing.

'Let me guess…' Remus muttered.

Following the death of the family of his own secretary, Mr. Enderby, Mr. Minchum needs to face up to the problems and dangers which werewolves pose to our world. They are the darkest creatures known to wizard-kind, with a lust for violence and bloodshed that no honourable person can begin to conceive and yet they are made even more dangerous by the fact that they are able to pass as human until the moon is full.

They can pretend to be one of us, lull us into a false sense of security, pray on our sympathies, assure us they are just like ourselves and then - once we have weakened ourselves, made ourselves vulnerable to their entreaties, that is when they strike; causing, in a best case scenario death for their victim, and a worse case scenario creating yet another monster just like them.

Quite rightly, the Wizarding World has shunned these foul fiends, have written laws which drive them from polite society and force them into the dark and the cold where they belong. Quite rightly, we do not let the beasts in at our door. But this - despite being the correct course of action for our society to take - has left us with a weakness which the Dark Lord can exploit.

By shunning the werewolf (as it should be shunned) our world offers them no quarter, no place of safety and no reason to play by our rules. The Dark Lord will use this to offer them hope, a chance of a better life if only they sign up to his dark regime. He will use these monsters as his pets, sending them out to destroy the lives of his enemies and leaving such violence and destruction in their wake that their victims will wish they had only been visited by Death Eaters.

They will be the Dark Lord's greatest weapon, and he will wield them with terrible force.

It is therefore imperative that the Ministry clamp down on werewolves, even harder than they are currently chasing down Death Eaters. They must start with the werewolf register, make sure it is up to date and put all those who are on it under the strictest surveillance. They must track down - by means of St. Mungo's records - any bite victims who survived and did not sign the register and imprison them at once, for they have proven themselves untrustworthy by keeping their true identity hidden.

The Werewolf Capture Units must be expanded and deployed every full moon. They must be able to use lethal force without fear of investigation or enquiry into misconduct and their powers must be expanded to use any such force as is necessary at any time of the month.

It is only in tracking and imprisoning, and killing those who will not go quietly, that we can negate this most dangerous threat and remove a vital part of the Dark Lord's army.

Mr. Minchum has - through his staff - personal experience of the damage and evil werewolves can cause. He has been too soft on them and this must change. I urge everyone to write to him to let him know what you expect him to do to keep you safe.

'He's still banging on about writing letters,' James said incredulously. 'Doesn't he have any other ideas?'

'He has lots of ideas,' Remus replied, shaking the paper at him to prove his point, 'all of them even more foul than the last. It's just typical of my luck - Minchum bans the Death Eaters from writing in the paper, but Malidictus is still free to spread as much poison as he wants. He's left Hogwarts and has immediately started to stir up trouble in the real world.'

Peter looked frightened. 'Do you think he'll tell anyone - about you?'

It was Sirius who answered him, shaking his head. 'Nah, if he outs Remus then he loses all his leverage over not getting prosecuted. Keeping Moony's furry little problem a secret is all that's standing between him and Azkaban right now. He doesn't want to end up there with all the Death Eaters and werewolves. He'll keep quiet about that… but he'll still make sure he makes Remus's life a misery.'

'It's just so good to be a fifteen year old and have a powerful, adult sworn enemy,' Remus said dryly. 'Makes you feel really important.'

That made them all laugh, and - with nothing else they could do to effect change and make things better - they decided to get on with the crossword.

'This fight's going to be hard,' Remus said, 'and even when it's over it doesn't mean everything will be better for everyone… it certainly won't be better for me. But we'll still fight it, because what other choice do we have?'

'And we'll make sure we have fun whenever we can,' James said. 'Even in the middle of war, not everything has to be doom and gloom, otherwise what's the sodding point of any of it? We need something worth fighting for. Like Quidditch, and finding secret passages and Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans…'

'And becoming Animagi,' Sirius added. 'Don't forget that.'

'We'll manage that next year, you'll see.'

They finished off the crossword, and played exploding snap. The train rattled its way through Britain, the mountains giving way to fields and forests and then cities and towns and then, just as the rays of the evening sun were turning crimson and casting long shadows into the carriage, they pulled into Kings Cross.

As the engine clanked and groaned, now its toil was done, and everyone got up - stretching after their long journey, Remus reached into his pocket and pulled out three photographs. 'Here,' he said to the others. 'I developed the last film on my camera. It had that picture Connie took of us all - I've made a copy for each of you.'

The boys took the photos and scrutinised them. The little figures grinned and waved up at them. 'My hair's all scruffy!' James said indignantly.

Sirius rolled his eyes, 'Mate, it always looks like that.'

Putting the photos in their pockets, they grabbed their trunks and began to haul them back down the carriage, towards the door.

'Next year will be easier for us all; less eventful,' James said, as they disembarked. 'I can feel it in my bones.'

'I hope so,' Remus replied. 'I don't think I can take another one like this one.'

And, with their arms wrapped around each other, looking forward to summer holidays and freedom and sunshine, they walked through the barrier to platform 9 ¾ and out into the muggle world.


A/N This marks the end of the boys' fourth year. Fifth year will start in the next chapter