"Hermione? Can I ask you a question?"

Hermione looked up from her book. "Of course you can, Harry. I hope you ask as many as you can ... I mean, how else are you supposed to learn?"

"Very funny," Harry smirked back. "But what I wanted to ask was your opinion on all this Source of Creation stuff. Do you believe in any of that?"

Hermione pondered the question. "Well, I suppose we have to, don't we? Not only because the Magisterium believe in it enough to kill hundreds of people in their quest to find it, but also because of what you learned on High Brasil. That was a type of Source itself ... a place where Dust and Magic could flow into the rest of the Earth."

"But it makes a mockery of all these religions, doesn't it? If it's real I mean. It would prove all their creation myths wrong in one go."

"Not necessarily. It might actually serve to prove them right."

"How so?" Harry frowned.

"Well, take the Garden of Eden story, for example," Hermione began, lowering her book. "That's described as a place where life and knowledge was born in the world. Sounds exactly like a Source-type of place to me. The stories were told orally from generation to generation, so maybe they just got the place names wrong. Or maybe the Magisterium have, and what they are actually trying to find is the real Garden of Eden. If they could do that, it would prove that all their stories were true."

"Imagine that!" Harry exclaimed in awe. "Imagine finding that and taking control of it!"

"Or destroying it," Hermione pointed out lowly.

"Or that," Harry agreed. "Have we really become powerful enough to challenge gods now?"

"The Magisterium certainly thinks it has," Hermione replied. "And it's also arrogant enough to want to try and take over from The Authority. If religion is true, then what the Magisterium is doing is the worst kind of heresy ... because they are essentially saying that The Creator is incompetent and they are taking ownership of this aspect of creation from Him ... or Her, or whatever a God would call itself, if anything at all."

"Do you believe in all that? In a God?"

Hermione looked out across the gently bobbing waters of the Thames, chilled and grey all around the moored Belle Sauvage II, which she and Harry were sitting in. "I think I have to believe in something bigger, in a divine force ... after all, one such thing brought me here to this world. I'm not sure I believe that it is an individual entity, because within that is the possibility of accession and challenges to power and wars between Gods, which surely is the realm of the mortal rather than the infinite. I think things of that nature, of organised religion in general, is more likely a construct of man rather than the proclamations of a deity. Do you believe in any of it?"

"No, not at all," Harry replied, pulling his jacket tighter against the chilly air. "I mean, look at the Magical world; they turned Merlin into a deity and founded a Church to worship him. But Merlin wasn't a God. He was a flesh and blood wizard, and other flesh and blood wizards created the Church. I imagine that's the same for other religions, too."

"Yes, but Merlin is viewed as the First Wizard, the original Master of the force we call magic. You could argue that it makes him at least semi-divine."

"Or you could argue that he was simply a more genetically advanced human, one able to tap into and harness these natural forces," Harry argued. "Or you could also consider that he was selected for his nature and given magic ... though that raises more prickly questions about who did the giving and if they were divine beings and why they intervened at all."

"Interesting. But you have to agree that things like Dust and Magic are universal forces, which could themselves be considered divine. Dust gave consciousness to humans, Magic the tools to wield all the forces of nature. These are the sorts of acts attributed to gods in many creation stories."

"Yes, I'll agree with that. Anything that's constant across worlds would be considered divine."

"Like friendship, and bravery, and ... other things," Hermione smiled. "But what's all this about, Harry? What's got you thinking all philosophical?"

Harry sighed a weighty breath. "I've just been going over everything in my head for the past couple of days, trying to process all the stuff that Sirius and Mal told us about the Magisterium and their Grand Plan. They know things are close now, and far more dangerous than they are letting on. There are things they're trying to keep away from us."

"They just don't want us to worry," said Hermione. "That's what they think is best."

"But I already am worried," Harry confessed reluctantly. "They're trying to prepare us for all that is to come, to make sure that we survive because these prophecies say we are so important. But I don't feel at all ready for any of that. I feel inadequate and useless."

Hermione looked over at him in concern. "You make it all sound so imminent, like it could happen tomorrow."

"Well, it could!" Harry yelped. "The adults clearly think it could. That's why they've given us this boat and started showing us how to sail it. They think we might need to get away in a hurry. And the parallels don't fill me with joy, either."

"What parallels?"

"The ones between our canoe and Malcolm's," Harry replied. "Didn't he tell you about his one? He used it to rescue Lyra from a great flood of their own when she was a just a baby. They fled from an insane murderer who used to batter his own dæmon, met a fairy-woman who tried to steal Lyra, then almost got eaten by a giant sea-dwelling monster. All in all, they had a really quite horrible time."

"It certainly sounds like one heck of an adventure," Hermione quirked. "But what are the parallels?"

Harry swallowed hard and sat back on his elbows in the canoe. "Well, there's a canoe, and a plot to kill youth itself, and an imminent flood ... and a baby that I'm really worried about."

Hermione's expression softened in the thin light. "Seren? You're worried about your sister? Why?"

"I had a bad dream," Harry confessed, looking away in case this came out sounding silly. "Voldemort won and everyone was killed except me, you and a few others. Then he wanted to show off his new technique for taking magic and dæmons from kids ... and he used Seren as his test example. She was shrieking and screaming and it was just awful.

"But I couldn't help. I was too late. I had the power to help and to save everyone, but I didn't know how to use it or even what it was. And the few people we'd escaped with were all so disappointed in me, like it was my fault. Which it was. It left me with chills and darkly exhilarated, and the sensation has been bothering me ever since."

"It was just a dream, Harry," Hermione tried to reassure him. "I wouldn't pay it too much mind."

"But there's truth there, don't you see?" Harry insisted. "You've been telling me for two years that you came here to unlock a power in me, but we haven't taken any steps towards that, have we?"

"I disagree," Hermione shot back. "I think we've taken massive steps."

Harry looked up in surprise. "You do? Like what?"

"Like becoming friends for starters, and best friends for a second course," Hermione explained. "If whatever we are going to do in the end is something we are meant to do together, then we've laid the strongest foundations for that. We make a pretty formidable team already, don't you agree?"

"Oh yeah, I didn't think of it like that," Harry chirped brightly. "I mean, I'd do practically anything to keep you safe."

"Practically anything?" Hermione quirked. "What wouldn't you do then?"

"I wouldn't die for you," Harry replied quickly. "What would be the point? I'd like to stay alive to enjoy being your friend. So I'd sooner kill for you than die for you."

Hermione flushed from her spot at the other end of the canoe. "Yes, I can safely say the same about you. But either way, we have developed a trust that's deep enough to be a weapon ... something positive to wield against the Darkness."

"And therein lies my point ... vague concepts are all very well, but what good are they in a straight-up fight? No, Hermione, we need to explore an actual power, one that we can use against Tom Riddle and his Magisterium."

"Alright," Hermione nodded, scrunching her brow. "So where do we start?"

"I have to think the answers lie in runes and alchemy," Harry replied. "That book you're reading is all about symbolic pictures and things that stand for other things. It's a secret language, and alchemy is talked about in a secret language, too. And if you can learn the language you can become really powerful.

"But I was also blessed by the force of the Sowilo rune three years ago. I've never really looked into what that means, but there are lots of meanings for all of the runes. And it's a bit like that truth-telling reader that Lyra has. Little pictures that stand for lots of things, and knowing what they are puts you in tune with a higher force and makes you strong.

"Then there's the deeper alchemy connection. My Mum always tells me how the forces of alchemy govern much of our lives. I never really paid much attention to that, but then I got thinking about it."

"And you changed your mind?" Hermione asked curiously. Harry nodded that he had. "Why?"

"Because, when I was studying the Stages of the Opus Alchymicum the other day, for our Christmas homework, I noticed that Stage Three is called the Separation," Harry explained. "And there seems to be a lot of separating going on just now. The Magisterium want to separate humans from Dust, Riddle wants to separate kids from Magic, Lyra and Sirius were separated for a while ... and so were you and I."

Harry stopped abruptly, as though the comparison between the Lyra/Sirius paradigm and his own with Hermione was something he shouldn't have used. Composing himself a moment, he went on.

"I wonder if that's just a coincidence, or if these bizarre instances of separation are going to continue? Have we been given a boat because we're going to be separated from everyone?"

"Possibly, but there's a curious thing about the Separation Stage in alchemy," Hermione began. "The base matter is separated, purged of impurities, then reunified in a better or more purified state. It's known as the process of solve e coagula. So, in our time apart for example, we've both learned new things and grown a bit. And now that we are unified again, we should be even better as a duo than we were before. For all we know, we had to spend some time apart, to get closer to whatever this thing is that we are going to do together."

Harry swallowed hard and fixed Hermione with a determined stare. "I ... I didn't think about it in that way. So do you think that's the answer, then? We have to stick together?"

Hermione smiled cutely. "I've always thought that, Harry. But we have to combine ourselves in closer ways now."

Harry shifted nervously down at the other end of the canoe. "What does that mean?"

"It means that Voldemort and the Magisterium are trying to take control of Dust and Magic," Hermione explained with vivacity. "And those forces have chosen us as their champions ... so we have to step up to their defence now, by aligning ourselves more closely with them."

"How?"

"By making something together ... something new that has parts of you and parts of me in it."

Harry blinked at the inference. "L-like what?"

"Well, we have wands, don't we? So we already have a magical tool that we are learning how to master," Hermione rushed on. "But now I think we need to harness the power of Dust, too. It exists in this world, Harry, whether as part of Magic or as something else entirely. But we need to find a way to communicate with it, so it can tell us how to help."

"And how do we do that?" Harry asked, sitting up eagerly.

"By building me my very own alethiometer!" Hermione whispered dramatically. "Lyra was showing me how to use hers just before we decided to return to this world, and I was just about getting to understand how it works. But I think if I build my own, I'll have a unique connection to it and it will work that much better.

"And if you help me, we can combine our knowledge and make a truly unique device, one greater than all the others ever created. It can tell us how to find the secrets of alchemy, how to unlock this power inside you, all sorts of things. Dust and Magic are under attack ... they need us, Harry."

"Then what are we waiting for!" Harry cried, driven to wild exuberance by Hermione's eagerness. "There's that second-hand shop just over the bridge. They're bound to sell old clocks or compasses and things. That'd be a start."

"It's a great idea, but we can't just go running off," Hermione replied, curbing her own enthusiasm. "It's too risky."

They both looked up at the flat from their position bobbing near the embankment. Mal and Will were both on ladders, hard at work attaching heavy shutters to the windows, that Sirius and James were safety charming as each one was secured. For if an Animagus could fool a Dementor, it might be able to sense its way past a Fidelius Charm, too. Anti-Disapparation Wards would help, but a strong physical barrier would make sure they all slept a little sounder at night.

Not that Hermione felt she was completely secure.

"Those shutters are all very well, and they might stop Bellatrix Lestrange for awhile, but will they do anything to a Dementor?" Hermione breathed with a shudder.

Harry looked over in puzzlement. "Why would a Dementor come here?"

"I was thinking about what Neville said on the train, about how Professor Lupin told him about the Dementors Kiss," Hermione went on. "And you know, now I think about it, that sounds almost precisely like what happened to Mum and Dad. They lost their sense of self and their memories. If dæmons are your soul, and a Dementor can eat a person's soul, then if one bit a dæmon the effect might be the same."

"So you think Tom Riddle has been breeding Dementors in your world?" Harry asked in a hushed voice.

"Breeding, modifying, who knows," Hermione whispered. "The thing that I saw was like a shadow of a dæmon, so maybe it's something Riddle cooked up. Or maybe it was the dæmon of a Dementor! They might have them for all we know. Either way, something attacked Mum and Dad and left them very much like a person who's suffered a Dementors Kiss."

"Then if that's true, we need to get you working on your Patronus as soon as we can," Harry suggested. "I wonder what form it will take."

"I know what form I hope it takes," Hermione mumbled, blushing slightly.

"And what might that be?"

"I'll wait until I can produce one, then I'll tell you," Hermione promised cryptically. "Till then, let's see if your Mum fancies taking us to the second hand shop. I'm sure Seren would like a walk."

That night, there was a commotion in the flat.

It started at around one a.m. Harry had been dreaming about some of the symbols of the alethiometer. Lyra had thought their idea to try and build their own was a good project to occupy Hermione's anxiety, even if she doubted their chances of success, so had allowed them to borrow her own alethiometer to copy down the symbols from the mysterious truth-reader.

Harry had been enamoured with the hefty golden compass as soon as he was allowed a good look at it. It was intricate and elegant, but there was something altogether other-worldly about it that utterly captivated him. It seemed to give off a low-level sound, almost as though it were a whisper hidden in a softly flowing stream. Harry could almost hear it, but he was equally as far away from the source of the sound.

But one thing he was sure of was that it sounded like voices.

Thousands, perhaps millions of them, all singing out in unison to describe their symbols and the myriad of meanings behind them first. The voices appeared almost to be jostling for attention, but in a rhythmic and harmonious sort of way. It was jarring at first, to acclimatise to the contrast. Marici helped Harry, sniffing curiously at the device and encouraging Harry to focus on one symbol only, rather than trying to understand them all at once.

And Harry had been particularly drawn to the walled garden symbol. It seemed to have more to it than the owl or the hourglass or the anchor. Of course, these had twelve, fifteen, a hundred more meanings themselves, but the walled garden seemed more complex even on a basic level.

It suggested restriction, in terms of the wall, but also beauty in the form of the garden. But there was also protection inherent in the idea, as though the wall served as a defensive barrier to the garden inside and the beauty it contained. Or was it life itself that was being protected, symbolised by the flowers and the cycle of death and rebirth that they represented.

Under Hermione's encouragement and prompting, Harry thought about all of this until he was dizzy, making connections with abstract things way beyond bricks and flora. He came to realise that you could view Hogwarts as a walled garden, containing the beauty of knowledge, or High Brasil, or this Source place that was now under threat by Tom Riddle and the Magisterium. And there were other things too, intimate things now only on the fringes of Harry's understanding, things his pre-adolescent brain had no concept of but were still there nonetheless.

And it was this deep level of thinking that eventually sent Harry into a heavy sleep. His brain wasn't used to working this hard or in such a conceptual way. It was stimulating and invigorating, but also exhausting. So his heavy eyes were glad when the time came to close for bedtime.

But Harry wasn't asleep for very long. A few hours after his head hit the pillow this commotion hit the flat.

The first Harry knew of it was when Marici leapt onto his bed and the force of her was enough to shock him from his slumber. She rolled her great head against Harry's sleep-mussed one, urging him to wake up.

"Get up, Harry! Get up!" the lioness urged. "Something's happening with Papageno! We need to help."

Harry was alert in a flash, jumping up and awkwardly pulling his clothes on in a slightly hysterical panic. Something had happened to Pap? After all the things he and Hermione had been discussing that very afternoon ... it can't be that, it cant be that, Harry kept telling himself as he tried to force his head through the sleeve-hole of his jumper.

Eventually, and with a bit of help from his equally as fraught dæmon, Harry managed to dress himself and yanked open the door to his bedroom. The scene in the living room looked like a party Harry hadn't been invited to. Everyone was there, moving around so frantically that they almost looked like they were dancing. After a few moments of just standing there aloof, Hermione spotted Harry. She was chalk white and tear stained in her worry.

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione cried. She dashed to him on sight and flung her arms around him. He patted her hair awkwardly.

"What is it? What's happened?" Harry asked quickly. "Chi said something about Pap, but are you okay?"

"I am, for now," Hermione sobbed lightly. "But it's Pap I'm worried about. He's run off into the night!"

"He has? But why?"

"I don't know, and he's too far away to ask," Hermione squeaked. "I can't hear him in my mind from this distance. Anything could have happened to him, Harry! There could be Dementors out there, or Bellatrix Lestrange. He's in so much danger!"

"And what has been done? What are we doing to try and find him?" Harry demanded, shooting firm looks at his parents and Sirius in particular.

"Pan has flown out to try and spot Papageno," Lyra replied. She looked pale with worry, too. "His owl eyes will be useful in the dark."

"Then I'll send Hedwig, too," Harry cried, disengaging from Hermione and sprinting to his room. Hedwig had just come back from a hunt and was busy devouring a vole she'd caught, but as soon as Harry explained the dire situation she abandoned her dinner and took flight through the open window. Harry returned to the others. "Hedwig's helping, but what else can we do? Why would Pap have run away?"

"Oh, I don't think he was running anywhere," said Mal, who had been kipping on the sofa. "Both he and Asta spotted something in the kitchen. They started chasing it but it slithered out under the door. Pap followed it outside from an open window. Asta would have gone too, but she thought it was better to stay here and wake us. If she hadn't we might have had no idea that any of this was happening."

Harry looked over gratefully at the cat dæmon, who was stood on her haunches at the window with her paws on the sill, looking hopefully out into the night.

"What could they have spotted?" Harry asked. "We don't have mice, do we?"

"Mice? With a clean-freak like your mother in the house? Not likely," James quipped in concern. "In any case, we have two cats and two owls in the flat at the moment. It's not somewhere any sane mouse would likely tread."

"But we're so close to the river," Harry pointed out. "Could it be a rat, maybe?"

James and Sirius fired dark, angry looks at each other. For a moment, Harry was sure he felt a bolt of magic sweep between them, almost as if they were communicating in their minds. And for that moment he noticed it, Harry could have sworn her heard what they were saying. It went like,

"No!"

"Can't be!"

"I'll kill him if it is."

Then Harry cut in, echoing the last comment he heard. "What's a Wormtail?"

James snapped his eyes to Harry, a stunned expression on his face. Then he became unaccountably angry. "Where have you heard that? Answer me, Harry!"

Harry stepped back warily. He was too shocked by his father's outburst to answer clearly. "I ... I ..."

"Answer me, Harry!" James reapeated, his voice rising.

Just then, baby Seren cried out, as if coming to Harry's defence. Lily wasn't far behind. She crossed the room and stood between Harry and James, looking furiously at her husband. "Look what you've done now, James! As if upsetting one of our children wasn't bad enough, you've woken the other one now! Are you happy with yourself? Answer me, will you?"

James took a steadying breath. He looked utterly ashamed of himself. He rounded Lily and knelt down in front of Harry.

"I'm sorry, son, I didn't mean to shout," James soothed. "You just shocked me with what you said, that's all. Now, will you please tell me where you heard that name?"

"I didn't know it was a name," Harry replied in a little voice. "And I'd never heard it till just now."

"But no-one said it," Sirius quirked from over Lily's shoulder. He'd taken Seren and was hushing her back to sleep on his shoulder, while Lyra looked on with a fond expression that was so loaded with broodiness that Harry wouldn't have been surprised if it had led to an immaculate conception right there in the flat.

"No, but we were thinking it," James smirked as he began to suspect the cause. "Harry ... is that how you heard the name?"

Harry shrugged in his confusion. "Sort of. I saw you look at Sirius, then I felt a sweep of magic pass between you. It only lasted a second, but it was like I could hear you talking. That's when I heard one of you say Wormtail."

"That ... that's extraordinary!" Lily whispered. "Harry, do you have any idea what you've just done?"

Harry didn't, but he blushed under the gushing tone that his mother was using. He looked up at her.

"No. What did I do?"

Lily smiled and turned to Hermione. "Do you know, sweetheart?"

"I can guess," Hermione replied. "It sounds like Sirius and Mr Potter were using Legilimency to communicate with each other -"

"Please, call me James," Harry's father insisted. "Mr Potter makes me sound very old!"

"Okay, James," Hermione grinned. "Anyway, it sounds like Harry somehow intercepted the magical communication between you and Sirius. And I agree with Mrs -"

"Lily," Lily cut in with a playful warning. Hermione simply flushed at that.

"I agree with Harry's Mum that it is quite astounding," Hermione went on. "I didn't think that was possible."

"I've certainly never heard of it happening," Lily agreed. "It is supposed to be a mind-to-mind communication ... I've never come arcoss a wizard who could hijack that connection."

"It is Harry, though," Hermione grinned. "We shouldn't be too surprised. After all, he is extraordinary."

Harry curled his eyes to his toes. The room seemed to have gotten very hot all of a sudden. Then he looked up at his father.

"But what is a Wormtail?" Harry asked.

"Not what, but who," James corrected. "For if Wormtail was truly here, then we need to be on our guard."

"Post nightly watches, I'd say," Sirius agreed. "Maybe even get an Auror detail to patrol the building."

"We'll deal with that in the morning," James went on. "For now, we have to find Hermione's dæmon. Where do we start with that?"

"Could we use Harry's extra sensory perception?" Sirius suggested. "There is a constant cord attached between human and dæmon ... well, except for the three people in this room who have Separated from theirs. If Harry can piggy-back on a Legilimency signal, he might be able to follow the link from Hermione to Papageno."

"I'm willing to try!" Harry cried out stoutly. "And so will Chi. She might have a better sense of Pap anyway because they've been very friendly lately. She might be able to follow his scent."

"Then let's go," said Mal fiercely. He was busy loading bullets into a handgun. Harry gulped hard at the sight of that.

"We can't just charge out of here with a lioness at our sides," Sirius quirked. "Even the people of London wont accept that!"

Harry span to Lily. "Mum, make Chi small, cat-sized. In the dark, no-one will notice the difference, or they'll just think she's an exotic breed or something."

Lily obeyed the instruction, re-sizing Marici until she was as small as a common house cat. Then the entire party bounded from the flat and headed into the chilly London night. They scoured the back streets, searching down smoky alleys and behind bins. But almost right away Harry knew that they were going in the wrong direction.

"The connection feels weaker this way, Harry," Marici told him after a few minutes. "Wherever Pap is, he's in the other direction, more towards the river."

"We need to head back to the Thames!" Harry called out to the search party.

"Are you sure?" James asked back.

"No, but Chi is," Harry replied. "And that's good enough for me."

"Then lead on," Lyra commanded as she broke into a jog next to Harry, who was already bolting off towards the river with Hermione close behind. The closer and closer they got, the stronger the signal became. Soon, Hermione could feel her dæmon again. And she didn't like the sensation.

"I can feel him, Harry! I can feel Pap ... and he's scared. Oh, Harry, he's so frightened! My little Pap, my heart! He's out there all alone and he's so afraid! We have to find him, Harry!"

"We will, we will," Harry reassured her. "It's weird, Hermione, but I sort of know that, too. It's like I can feel Pap's fear in my own body. How am I doing that?"

"Maybe it's an effect of us building our alethiometer," Hermione suggested, running faster now that she could feel Papageno in her breast again. "Perhaps it has opened you up to external things and Dust has started to imprint itself on you."

"Yeah, maybe," Harry pondered. Then he clutched at his chest. "Chi, wait! You're going too fast! It hurts when you go too far away!"

Marici heard but didn't stop. She, undoubtedly, could feel Papageno's anxiety, too, perhaps even more acutely than Harry could, and she was frantic to reach her fellow dæmon. Harry didn't understand how this worked at all. One thing he did know, however, was the profound ache of the heart-deep tug he felt when Marici reached the very limit of their connecting cord. She was on the border now, galloping away with such restless abandon that she was stretching Harry's tolerance to it's very limit.

"Chi, come back!" Harry moaned, the pain growing in his heart. "I can't take it."

And at that moment, neither could she. The dæmon raced back to Harry and jumped into his arms, burrowing her muzzle into his shoulder. Harry, likewise, buried his face in her fur and tugged her tight.

"That was close," Marici muttered. "We almost broke it, I think."

"Never ... want that ... to happen," Harry panted out, his heart still sore from the exertion.

"Never will," Marici purred back. "But we're nearly there. Pap is close. I can feel him now."

"Which way, Chi?" Hermione called over.

"Under the bridge, there's some thick reeds in the bank. Pap is hiding among them."

"Hiding?" Harry asked. "From what?"

"From that!" Marici growled.

For at that moment the moon broke through the clouds and illuminated something standing on top of the bridge, silhouetted against the streetlamps. It was large and dark, with matted fur and eyes that sparkled against the gloom. Its wolf-like shape was clear even from here.

"Is that the thing we faced in the Forest?" Harry hissed.

"Impossible to tell from here," Marici replied. "But it's looking for Pap. We have to hurry, Harry."

That caused a spurt of speed that took Harry away from Hermione. He dropped Marici back to the ground and she bounded alongside Harry as he reached the muddy river bank and slipped down it. The wolf on the bridge saw the movement and vanished, only to reappear less than ten feet to Harry's right.

Harry skidded to a halt and made to draw his wand, but at the same time the wolf struck. Harry was knocked over the bank, tumbling down and down as Hermione screeched out in terror. Mal fired off a bullet or two from his gun, but the wolf was quicker and all the shots missed. Harry felt blood on his temple and his head was groggy, but even he was cogent enough to realise one thing.

That wolf can Disapparate!

And then it did, re-materialising right in front of him with fangs bared. Harry felt its hot spittle drip from those slobbering chops, hit his cheek and trickle disgustingly down his collar. He heaved at the notion, then hoped that Marici wasn't going to do something stupid in her little cat form. If he could just reach his wand and re-size her ...

Then there came an almighty growl that might have been the deepest dog bark in history, made by the biggest dog Harry had ever seen, as it rushed up and clobbered the wolf with enough force to shatter a rib or two. It whined and howled against the full moon, then turned in readiness to fight. Then Harry heard an even more bizarre sound nearby.

Hooves.

He looked up just in time to see an enormous stag charge over the ridge of the bank and drive its antlers right into the belly of the wolf. The screech this time was more piecing than the attack by the dog, and was tinged with a female cackle ... a human female at that. Harry watched on in astonishment as the stag transformed into the furiously angry form of his father. Then the huge dog leapt through the air and made its feet as the wizard form of Sirius Black.

Both James and Sirius had their wands drawn and were advancing with menacing fury.

"Come on, cousin, stand and fight!" Sirius taunted angrily. "Let's see what new tricks Riddle has taught to an old dog like you!"

Harry watched the injured wolf contort and grow until it was a full-sized human witch ... and he got a first real-life glimpse of Bellatrix Lestrange. She had a crazy mass of hair, wild staring eyes that were bristling with manic aggression and a sense of danger that seemed to roll off her like an electric storm front. Even though there were two of them, Harry couldn't help but feel anxious about his father and Sirius.

"Be careful you two!" Harry cried out. "She's a lunatic."

"Don't fret son, we can handle her," James called back.

But at that moment Lyra emerged at the top of the bank. Without warning, she took aim at Bellatrix and fired a gunshot at her. The bullet whizzed through the air and struck Bellatrix in her lower thigh. She shrieked out in pain, seemed to finally understand just how outnumbered she was, then turned and Disapparated away, but not before bending down to scoop something up from the floor.

"What did you do that for?" Sirius growled. "We had her cornered."

"I don't want her cornered," Lyra spat. "She's threatening our Hermione, so the only thing I want her to be is dead. Why the hell do you wizards insist on playing with your food? You should have just killed the bitch the first chance you got."

Harry, from his position still on the muddy floor, felt a hot rush of affection for Lyra and her staunch position in that moment. He agreed with her entirely.

"Yeah, Dad, why didn't you kill her?" Harry demanded.

"Because, we wanted to be sure of something," James explained, pocketing his wand.

"Sure of what?"

"Sure that she really was back in contact with Wormtail," James went on. "Because, Harry, Wormtail was the Animagus code name of one Peter Pettigrew."

Harry gasped in his shock. He blinked at his father in the darkness. "But ... but ... that was your friend! The one who betrayed you to Voldemort!"

"The very same," Sirius confirmed.

"But he was killed, you said?" Harry hushed in horror. "You said he committed suicide!"

"No, Harry, our old friend Peter endured," Sirius went on lowly. "He went underground, kept his snout low and bided his time. And now, it seems, he has returned and joined up with my lovely cousin once again."

"But I don't understand ... why was Bellatrix here?" Harry frowned. "And how were you going to find out if she'd met up with Pettigrew? Was he here, too? I didn't see anyone else."

"No, but I did."

Harry snapped his head to the left at the sound of Papageno's voice. He was held tightly in Hermione's arms, but she looked pale with concern even in the moonlight. "Pap! You're alright ... I'm so glad, but I don't understand what you mean."

"Tell them what you just told me," Hermione prompted.

Pap sat up straight on Hermione's forearms. "I saw something in the flat tonight, something I've been trying to keep an eye out for. It was a rat."

"And a rat was the form that Peter took as an Animagus," James explained to Harry's confused expression, which darkened immediately.

"Then ... Pettigrew was in our flat! Sweet Merlin!" Harry hushed. He was disgusted by the idea. "So Animagi can get around your defensive charms?"

"Evidentally, but that doesn't mean the effects wouldn't kick in if they transformed back into their human form," James replied. "But, at least, now we know that Peter is active again."

"We know more than that," Hermione mumbled. "Pap isn't finished yet."

All eyes turned to the dæmon now as he started speaking again. "As I said, I saw the rat in the flat. I decided to chase it off, in case it tried to climb into the baby's cot or something but I was only going to drive it from the building.

"And that's when I realised that it wasn't a normal rat. But more than that, I knew I'd seen this rat before. I recognised his scent. So I wanted to chase him and catch him to prove it."

Sirius and James scowled together. It was the latter who spoke next.

"You knew his scent? How is that possible? How could you have come into contact with Peter?"

"And from where?" Sirius added.

Papageno turned his big orange eyes on James and Sirius in turn. "I know because I've been around that rat for at least two years. I'd know his stink anywhere. It's very distinctive. But I only ever smell it in one place ... at Hogwarts."

"Hogwarts!" James echoed with a shocked gasp.

"Yes, and not only that, I also know that the rat goes by another name entirely. And I'm not the only one. You see, at Hogwarts, he is well known to the boys in Harry's dorm. Only there they call him -"

"Scabbers!" Harry cried out in anger. "Wormtail has been hiding as Ron Weasley's pet!"