Yet Another Sibling Who Lived Fic

Ginny Weasley sat in Professor McGonagall's office, having tea and biscuits with her Head of House. Ginny was rather surprised by this, but figured that it had something to do with whatever happened to her boyfriend's suspicious brother at the end of the First Task. Paul had been called to a meeting with the Headmaster after that, and had returned looking extremely pale and worried. He had also refused to say anything about it, but just wanted to be hugged. Ginny found rather strange, seeing as Paul Potter usually wanted more than that, but she couldn't say she minded. After all, she would do anything for the Boy Who Lived.

"I suppose you are a little surprised that you are here, Miss Weasley," said the Gryffindor Head. "The Headmaster has recently discovered some information saying that your boyfriend is in grave danger, and needs your help."

"Oh no!" exclaimed Ginny, leaning forward in alarm. "What's wrong? What can I do to help him?"

"It's rather complicated, Ginevra. And top secret. I will need your word that no-one outside this room ever hears of what I am about to tell you."

"Of course," replied the teenage witch, and promptly swore an oath to that effect.

"Excellent. Now here is what Albus and I need you to do..."

Hermione was busy working on her Charms homework. The topic was Disillusionment Charms. Flitwick, the Head of the House she still believed she should have been placed in, had given them extra reading about Invisibility Charms, and she was having trouble understanding just how they could be applied to merely a single object.

She hadn't gone to dinner, but Padma had brought her sandwiches along with some extra parchment to do her homework with. It was tragically fortunate, in Hermione's opinion, that Madam Pomfrey had fallen sick earlier that day, and was therefore sniffling and spreading germs to her grandchildren at her son's place in Glasgow. The temporary Healer in charge of the Hospital Wing, a laid back middle-aged witch called Jones, did not share Pomfrey's religious belief that having visitors outside visiting hours was a heinous sacrilege that would cause the Apocalypse to come early.

Which is why Hermione was sitting up in the bed next to an unconscious Harry, doing her homework while sneaking glances every ten minutes to see if he had awoken from his Magical exhaustion.

There was a knock at the door of the Hospital Wing and Hermione quickly turned her head towards it and instinctively reached for her wand in her hip holster.

It was Professor Vanescu.

Hermione kept her hand on her wand, but did not raise it. Not that it would be any use if a vampire decided to attack.

The DADA teacher walked slowly into the room, looking at Harry.

"How is he?" asked the white-haired witch.

"Not awake yet," replied Hermione, watching her teacher warily. She respected Vanescu as a teacher, but outside classrooms... there were just too many unknowns, and too many things had happened that day.

"Do you think we could ... talk?" Vanescu's face betrayed no emotions, but her voice was clearly nervous. That calmed Hermione somewhat and she nodded. "Thank you. You have no idea how much I appreciate it." She took a deep breath. This was one of the habits that separated Turned Vampires from Born Vampires, since vampires had no need to breathe. "How much has Harry told you about me?"

"He said that..." began Hermione. "Wait. Why should I tell you?"

"Because I'd like to tell you the rest of it. Did he mention that his mother is alive?"

"Yes," replied Hermione after a pause.

"And that I initially told him that him that I am close to his mother?"

"Yes," replied Hermione uncertainly.

"And that I am his mother?"

Hermione's mouth dropped. "No, he didn't mention that." She thought for a moment, while recovering from the shock. "Prove it."

"My maiden name is Evans. I was born Lily Evans. Crina is a Romanian word meaning Lily. Vanescu - Evans - you get the idea."

For Hermione, this was pretty close to proof. But the look of longing in Vanescu's eyes when she gazed at Harry was even closer.

"Does Harry know?" she asked.

"I told him today," replied Crina. "But I don't think he believes me."

"If you are his mother," Hermione said after another long silence, "perhaps you can tell me what you've been doing since you 'died'."

So Crina began explaining. She spoke of how she was with James Potter and their two sons visiting Venice when she was attacked by a rogue vampire on a solo shopping trip. She lost her memories of her old life. She was taken in by an old and relatively benevolent vampire family, as something between a servant and a governess. She moved from Italy to Romania with them and learnt Romanian and German while serving as a conversational partner for young vampires learning English. Her memories began returning slowly after four years, starting with her earliest ones. After another year she could remember her husband and family.

Crina had then, with the help of her adopted family, managed to return to England to try and see her sons and husband. She had assumed that he had moved on, but had been surprised by the ferocity of his response to her return from the dead. He had refused to let her even see either of her sons, let alone speak to them. She figured it had something to do with his new girlfriend. Or he was distraught. Or a combination of the two.

Hermione listened to Lily berate herself for not having the guts to directly contact Harry - her favourite son - earlier. She had sent a couple of Owls, but Harry never sent a reply. Lily now thought he never received them, which probably meant James got them first. Lily blamed herself for giving up too quickly and not sending a letter while her son was in Hogwarts.

"I believe you now," said Hermione with a sad smile. "You have to be Harry's mother. You're just like him, blaming yourself for something you have nothing to do with."

"I had something to do with it! If I hadn't gone shopping alone... if I hadn't given up..."

"Let me rephrase that," said Hermione. "You both blame yourselves more than you should. Far more. Besides, you did not give up - you came here, didn't you?"

"Not by choice. I was - pushed into this situation by a friend. A werewolf, actually."

"You have good friends," remarked the teenager.

"A trait I must have inherited from my son." Lily paused. "Tell me, is there something I could do to make it easier for him to accept me? Like dye my hair red?"

"Dye? Oh, I forgot you're Muggleborn too. Harry told me that. No, you definitely do not want to dye your hair red. You're his mother, but you are not just his mother. You're his mother and a vampire. Vampires have white hair. Don't try to be something you are not. Harry hates that. Besides, he isn't your little six year old boy now - he is a teen. You both have to start afresh. Lily Evans had red hair. Crina Vanescu has white hair. Be his mother, be his sister, be his friend." She paused. "I can help you, if you like."

"Miss Granger, if Harry ever leaves you, I'll kick his ass. One day you should tell me how to thank you."

"I can tell you that today."

"Oh? Please do so, in that case."

"My parents are dentists, and they would be fascinated to examine a set of vampire teeth. So if you could visit them in their office one weekend... I should warn you though, they will talk about you in the third person a lot. "

Crina laughed, harder than she had all term.

Harry woke up at dawn the next morning, and saw the familiar ceiling of the Hospital Wing.

"Shit," he thought, "I should just move here."

He looked around, and saw Hermione sleeping on the bed next to him. He panicked at once. Was she alright? Pomfrey did not allow overnight visitors in the Hospital Wing so she must have gotten hurt somehow...

He sat up and moved his legs and arms to see if they were in working order. They did, so he got out of the bed and sat on Hermione's. He felt her forehead to see if she had any fever. It seemed fine, and he bent down to give her a kiss on her forehead. And then another, lightly on her lips. She did not seem to mind too much, if the purring coming from her was any indication. He wondered if she normally purred in her sleep. Perhaps she picked up the habit from that mangy orange flat-faced feline of hers.

He stood up, noted absently that some kind soul had left a fresh change of clothing for him, and headed to the bathroom. When he returned twenty minutes later, dripping and wearing nothing but a towel, Hermione was awake.

"Oy! Close your eyes!" he shouted, much embarassed. His build was lean to the point of skinny - being a Seeker did not do much for building muscle mass.

"Why should I?" she replied cheekily. "You're the one prancing around the Hospital Wing like there's no-one around."

"You were supposed to be asleep!" he said, grabbing his school robes and dashing behind a screen so he could put them on. "And what are you doing here? Are you injured?"

"Get back here, Potter! I deserve some entertainment!"

"Too late," he replied after several seconds. He grinned as he came from behind the screen with his trousers and shirt on and carrying his robes. He began tucking in his shirt. "Seriously, are you alright?"

"Poppy's sick," said Hermione. She was already out of bed herself and grabbing some clothes. "The substitute Healer - Madam Jones - doesn't care about Visiting Hours. Now, how well are you feeling? Still magically exhausted?"

"I'm fine."

"There I go again, asking stupid questions," sighed Hermione. "You always say fine. I swear, even if you lived in a cardboard box and ate once a month and got pissed on by the rest of the universe, you'd say you were fine. Is it a male thing, a Potter thing, or a Harry thing? Now come on, we're going to breakfast. And I've got a bunch of things to tell you on the way."

Blaise was sitting at the Neutral table at breakfast. He was concentrating on making a tower of sausage links when two people sat next to him.

"Hello, Longbottom," he said, glancing to the person sitting on his right. "Welcome to the House of ... well, we haven't worked out a name yet. And Katie the Belle! What are you doing here?"

"Good morning, Zabini," said Neville quietly. "I hope you don't mind us sitting here."

"Of course I don't mind. Besides, it's a free table."

"We could call it Zabini House," said Katie Bell, responding to Blaise's hypothetical question with her usual air of unaffected confidence. "But that would only chase people away."

"You insult my modesty, Belladonna," replied Blaise. "I suppose Longbottom here dragged you here? Good taste, Neville. I always knew you had it in you!"

Neville spluttered, and Katie had mercy on him. "Neville has nothing to do with this, Zabini. I came here because I was curious." She turned to look him in the eye. "Did you really get beaten up by Slytherins last year when you asked me out?"

Blaise stiffened and remained silent for a while. "Neville," he said, "what do you think we should call this table, eh? Slyvenpuffdor sounds pretty good to me!"

Neville glanced at Katie, who was giving Blaise an inscrutable look.

"I think Katie would like an ans -" Neville began.

"Oh look!" cried Blaise. "It's the Silver 'N Gold Couple! Oy! Harry! Hermione! Over here!" His voice was loud, and Harry was already giving him a murderous look for pointing out their arrival to the entire Great Hall. Blaise ignored that - the second Hogwarts Champion was going to be noticed almost as soon as he entered anyway.

Paul Potter stood up at the Gryffindor table and began walking to meet Harry and Hermione. The pair visibly stiffened, and kept their hands close to their wands. A hush fell on the Great Hall. Whispers broke out as Paul smiled and held out his hand.

"Congratulations, Harry," said Paul. "You did very well yesterday. And I'm delighted you're well."

"Er," said Harry, shaking his brother's hand. He was still visibly surprised. "Thanks."

"I wish to apologize to both of you," continued Paul, "for thinking ill of you and your relationship. For what it's worth, I have come to my senses and approve."

"That's nice," said Hermione, her eyes boring into his. "Thank you. We would never have been friends for four years without your permission, would we? Does this mean you won't be calling me a boring bushy-haired bucktoothed bookworm even when you don't need help with your homework? And that you won't be calling your brother a Dark Lord in training? And that you won't feel the need for him to kiss your unworthy ass any more?"

Paul winced. "Look," he said. "I'm really sorry about everything I've done and said..."

"Do you still think that all Slytherins are evil?" asked Harry, catching on to his girlfriend's cynical take on Paul's apology.

"Yes, but you're not a Slytherin - "

"Haven't you learnt anything, Paul?" shouted Harry. "Slytherin is the only house where I would fit! I am proud to be there. Yes, we've produced a few Dark Lords, but so have Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. Why do you all hate us so much? You all ostracize us and then get surprised when those of us who are neutral turn to the Dark! Of course we have our bigoted idiots like Malfoy who don't realize that Muggle-borns are the future of the wizarding world, but most of us are neutral and want to be friends with people who accept us! But you and morons like Ron Weasley and our father are just as bigoted as Malfoy!"

"How can you be so callous?" said a new voice. It was Ginevra Weasley, storming up to where the three of them were standing. "My boyfriend tries to offer an apology and all you can do is stand on a bloody soapbox?"

"Give me one good reason why I should believe my brother," Harry replied in a low, menacing voice. Ginny and Paul backed away. "He has belittled and ignored me and treated me like thestral dung for years, and now he believes it can all be undone with a apology that lasts twenty seconds? I am a Slytherin. We snakes are not fools. This apology of his is nothing but a pathetic publicity stunt, and ... AARGH!"

Harry fell to his knees, screaming.

"HARRY!" Hermione bent down over him, holding and shaking him. "What's wrong!" She could hear running footsteps.

"Harry!" That sounded like Blaise.

There was a flash of red light, and Harry's screams were stopped as he went limp.

"There's blood running from the back of his head!"

"What have you done to him?" Hermione screamed at the Headmaster.

"Silence!" shouted Dumbledore, power rolling off from him in waves. "I have stunned him for his own safety. He will not suffer if he is unconscious. We must get him to the Hospital Wing now!"

Blaise held back Hermione as the old wizard levitated Harry. Paul tried to follow them, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Let me go! That's my brother!" shouted Paul.

"Your brother needs his friends and allies," said Cedric Diggory, who was holding him. "You have been disloyal to your kin. I am glad you are not in Hufflepuff, because you would never be worthy of it."

Cedric forcibly pushed Paul back as he moved forward to follow Dumbledore and Hermione. Blaise was already ahead of him. He heard running footsteps behind him, and looked back while he kept walking. It was Cho, and she had a look of pride on her face that made his heart beat several ticks faster.

Harry woke up in the Hospital Wing, and promptly cursed.

"Fuck! I can't even go to breakfast without getting hurt!"

"Mr Potter," said Albus Dumbledore. Next to him was a strange woman wearing Healer's robes. Harry supposed she was Madam Pomfrey's temporary replacement. Jones, if he remembered correctly. "You were having an argument with your brother in the Great Hall when you began clutching the back of your head. There's a wound there that was bleeding. Have you any idea where you got it?"

"One of my brother's lackeys blindsiding me?" suggested Harry with a heavy note of sarcasm. Dumbledore kept looking at him. "Oh, fine! I don't know when I got it. It's been there as long as I can remember. My mother probably dropped me on the head when I was a baby, which would explain a lot. It's bled a couple of times this year. That's all I know. And it's bleeding now because I'm allergic to my brother. He's training to be a Dark Lord, you know."

There was a snigger nearby, followed shortly by a smack and an 'ow!' Harry figured it was Hermione keeping Blaise in line.

"Is there anything else you would like to tell me, Harry?" asked Dumbledore, looking over his spectacles.

"Yes, Headmaster," replied Harry Potter. "Can you please stop the Tournament?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Healer Jones has cleaned your wounds and tells me you are free to go. But I am afraid I have bad news. Although today is a Hogsmeade Saturday, you must not leave Hogwarts. Your life is in danger, as we discussed yesterday. This is not negotiable."

Harry stood in silence, his mouth agape.

"Thank you, sir," he said, gritting his teeth. "I don't know where I would be without your concern. Happyland, probably."

Dumbledore sighed, nodded to the students, and left.

Harry turned to the substitute for Pomfrey. "I'm sorry you heard that, Healer Jones. I really do appreciate your help and for not keeping me here too long. And for letting Hermione stay overnight. Can you stay around even after the Tyrant of the Hospital Wing returns?"

"You're welcome, Mr Potter," replied Jones. "But Madam Pomfrey is a good Healer and would also kick you out of the Hospital Wing if she was here. Your attack was very short-lived."

"The day Poppy treats me like an outpatient will be the day Mermaids come to Hogwarts," replied Harry, putting on his robes and heading out for breakfast for the second time that day.

"Um, Harry?" said Hermione walking beside him. "There are Merpeople in Hogwarts. In the Lake. It's in 'Hogwarts: a History'."

"Grrr," Harry replied onomatopoeically. He suddenly noticed that Blaise and Hermione were not the only ones present. Cedric, Cho, Neville, Terry, and Padma were also at the entrance to the Hospital Wing. "What are you all doing here?"

"Get it into your thick head, Potter," said Cedric. "We're your friends. Friends come and see friends in the Hospital Wing. We were worried about you."

"Oh," replied Harry, uncertainly. "I see. Er - thanks. I've not had that many ... never mind. I don't suppose any of you brought a sandwich?"

Surprisingly, Neville had, and gave it to Harry.

"Thanks, Longbottom," replied Harry. "And - er - welcome to our motley crew. Hermione has often said you're the only decent bloke in Gryffindor." He bit into the sandwich and swallowed a small bit. "The bacon's excellent."

Neville looked rather embarassed at the compliment, and just nodded. He would have been more embarassed if he had heard Padma whispering into Cho's ear that it was about time they compiled a list of witches to set him up with.

"Breakfast time's over," replied the Hufflepuff Seeker. "But it's Saturday and a Hogsmeade weekend. Let's go there now so we can come back in the afternoon. Ravenclaw is playing Gryffindor in Quidditch then, and I need to watch my girlfriend catch the Snitch."

"I guess you didn't hear Dumbledore," replied Harry.

"He had a silencing charm on you all, didn't you know? We couldn't hear a thing!" said Terry.

"Oh," said Harry. "No, I didn't know." He sighed dramatically. "Our beloved Headmaster has banned me from Hogsmeade. For my own safety."

"What?" said Cedric and Cho together.

"He didn't say that to me," added Cedric.

"You lot go to Hogsmeade," said Hermione. "You too, Blaise. I want to stay with Harry. You'll be back in the afternoon, right?"

"Yes," replied the Ravenclaw Seeker. "Like my Diggles said, we're playing you Gryffies today." They snickered as Cedric banged his head against a wall.

"Good," said the Ravenclaw Wannabe. "Make sure you catch the Snitch."

"Hermione," whispered Harry as the octet left the Hospital Wing, "you don't have to stay with me. Go to Hogsmeade."

"What part of 'want to stay with Harry' did you not understand?" she retorted. "The spaces between the words? We've got too many things to talk about. I'll give Padma my shopping list and a few quid. Now go talk to the blokes. I'll go talk to the smart folks." She left him and moved over to where Padma and Cho were talking.

"Has anyone told you how the other champions did their task, Harry?" asked Terry.

"Task?" asked Harry. "What task?"

"The Pterodactyl-dragon golems," replied Terry.

"The what?"

"The beasties that were trying to kill us yesterday," explained Cedric with an amused smile.

"Oh, those. Funny, it seems like it happened last week. What happened anyway? What did the Headmaster tell you lot? Was it really yesterday? Am I in last place?"

"Merlin, Harry! One question at a time! Your girlfriend is rubbing off on you more than we thought," said Blaise. "Not that you would have a reason to object to her rubbing you, mind."

"I'm in last place," said Cedric with a grimace, answering the last question. "I didn't finish in time. Delacour's leading. She turned into a bird as well, and threw flames back at the golems. She finished really fast, and got forty six points. You've got forty two, Krum thirty five and I've got thirty four."

"Krum should be in last place," clarified Neville. "His conjured broomstick wasn't very good. He got badly scorched by one of the golems after he got the scroll. It was burnt to a cinder. But Mr Karkaroff still gave him a nine." It was clear that Neville's opinion of the Durmstrang Headmaster was not particularly high, given his avoidance of the honorific 'Professor'.

"Looks like we're at the fork in the road," said Cedric. "Want anything from Hogsmeade, Harry?"

"Er. Four chocolate frogs for me and two sugar quills for me to give to Mione."

Five minutes later, Harry and Hermione were still standing there, watching their friends go to Hogsmeade.

"Well," said Harry.

"Well," said Hermione.

"We need to talk."

"Definitely."

"Good day for a picnic?"

"An excellent idea. I always knew you were capable of intelligence, Potter."

Crina Vanescu stood on the roof of the Astronomy Tower. One of the advantages of being a vampire was having wings. She'd only had them for the last few months, seeing as they only developed six to eight years after one was Turned, but now she couldn't imagine life without them.

Like all vampires, she preferred to move around at night. She had scheduled all her classes after noon so that she could sleep from four to eleven each morning. But she was perfectly capable of moving around during the day. That today was a muggy, cloudy day was merely a bonus.

She could see her favourite son and his girlfriend from here. It felt like spying, but Crina had spent three years without seeing her children and would take what she could get. Especially since he continued to be morose and silent during her classes. Hopefully Hermione was relaying to him what Crina had told her during the night. The girl had sounded convinced that Harry would come around.

Crina spread out her wings again, and headed out to fly over the Forbidden Forest. She flew for about an hour. A couple of centaurs fired arrows at her, which she caught and broke before letting them fall. Having enhanced reflexes was amusing sometimes. She would love to have a Seeker game against Harry, or even against Paul - them on a broomstick and she with her wings. Which was odd, considering she'd never been a great fan of flying or broomsticks before. It was different now. She didn't trust broomsticks, but she trusted her wings. She had full control of them.

She flew over the Hogwarts gate when she was joined by an eagle flying towards her. Her heart lifted as she recognized it. She smiled and followed it to a spot beside the lake. They landed at the same time, and Harry turned back into a human. They looked at each other silently, and Harry ran his hand through his hair.

"Er," he said. "Hermione explained what you said this morning. I'm - er - sorry. For being a stubborn git and all."

"That's alright," she said, a lump growing steadily in her throat.

"And I'd like to, well, get to know you better, Professor," he said, "And thanks for yesterday. For coming after me. Both times. I'd like to get to know you better - oh wait, I already said that. Sorry, I'm rambling already, aren't I? Perhaps call you Mum one day if you'll let me, and - can I get a hug?"

She opened her arms, and he rushed into them. He wept tears that only his mother could see and she heaved tearless sobs as she held him as tightly as she could without squeezing his ribs out. They wept for years missed in the past, for years together in future, for a mother's love lost and found.

Albus Dumbledore was tired. The last few days had been full of more excitement than he could deal with. He put on a glamour and walked to the Hog's Head in Hogsmeade. The bartender recognized his disguised appearance and told one of his employees to take charge before nodding his head to the Headmaster. They headed together to the basement.

"Greetings, kiddo," said Aberforth Dumbledore. "I was expecting you."

Albus took off his glamour and hugged his older brother. "You were there?"

There was no reason to explain where or when 'there' was. Aberforth didn't even bother to nod.

"I'm surprised it took so long to break my record," said the bartender, reaching for a bottle of single malt. "Ah well. It was nice to be the youngest registered Animagus in Britain for over a century."

"Technically you still have the record," said the Headmaster to the Goat Animagus. "He's not registered in Britain."

"Oh?" said Aberforth, filling two shot glasses. "Not registered, or registered elsewhere?"

"Switzerland," replied Albus. "Just like our favourite cousin did. So he does not have to register in Britain, and yet he remains legal. I think Minerva nearly had kittens when he turned into an eagle."

"Impressive," chuckled the bartender, "the boy can think, too. A true Slytherin."

Albus lifted his glass. "To Anne."

"To Janice," his brother replied. "May she be waiting for you, just as Anne is for me." They both tossed their drinks to the back of their throats.

They stopped coughing after a minute.

"Nana's knickers!" said Albus, using a popular imprecation from the middle 1800s. "That's good stuff."

"Course it is," replied his brother, pouring out another glassful. "It's Muggle. And Scottish." He paused. "So. Harry Potter. It's not the Animagus shit you're worried about, is it though?"

Albus explained what had happened to Harry after he unwittingly took the Portkey. He didn't have to explain about Lily's return, since he had already told his brother of that.

"We got lucky with the rebirth," said Aberforth. "Let's hope it stays that way. It won't stay that way forever, though."

"You're supposed to be comforting me, big brother."

"That was the comfort," said Aberforth. "Now comes the part where I take you on a guilt trip. You're wondering if you screwed up and got the Boy Who Lived wrong, aren't you? Can't say I blame you, given the number of times you've complained that everything other than the ego of young Paul Potter seems remarkably average."

Albus liked his brother. It was a lonely business being the most powerful Light Wizard in the nation. But his older brother always kept him in his place, and knew what he was thinking. If only the loss of his wife - their wives - at Grindelwald's hand had not happened, and his brother had not plunged into a decades long depression that he had never truly recovered from...

"Haven't I told you enough times, Albus, that I like being a bartender? It's the most entertaining profession in the world! You watch people dancing on tables, getting thrown out, throwing them yourselves..."

Albus Dumbledore raised his hands in protest. "Who said I was thinking about that?"

"Because you always do, whenever we have a toast. You've got used to your world, I've got used to mine. I can tell you I prefer mine. Now, enough of that. What do you want to talk about?"

"I'm wondering if I missed some detail regarding the Potters."

"Hah! I told you so! I was right!"

"Do take your mouth to the tailors, Abe," sighed Albus with a mock grumble.

"Yes, yes, little brother. Let's see now. Halloween 1981. Lily and James Potter were away, Paul and Harry and Lily's mother were at home. Pettigrew was Secret Keeper. Voldemort got the secret from him and brought him to the house. Lily had placed an emergency experimental charm on her boys to ensure that if a willing sacrifice was made for them, they would be temporarily immune to Avada. When you lot got there, Voldemort was destroyed, Pettigrew and Lily's mother were both dead by Avada, Paul Potter was screaming his head off with a cut on his forehead from having survived Avada. Have I left anything out?"

"Pettigrew had the Dark Mark," said Albus, quietly contemplating the facts, as he had hundreds of times before.

"And even Nicholas verified that Paul had survived the Curse."

"Yes. Other experts too. The Charm definitely worked."

"I've always wondered why Voldemort would kill Pettigrew if he was a Death Eater."

"You know my opinion on that. He redeemed himself at the last moment by trying to save the boys. For all we know, Pettigrew's sacrifice added to the weight of their grandmother's sacrifice in protecting Paul Potter."

"You and your Redemption obsession," sighed Aberforth. "You never did get the chance to check Tom's wand."

"No, Lucius and his friends stole it from the Ministry too quickly."

"I suppose you'll just have to ask Tom himself then," said the bartender sarcastically. "When he returns. Which he will, of course."

I've begun a discussion forum for this fic if you're interested, at http / groups. yahoo. com / group / vanescu . It's got polls that I'd like readers' opinions on. The most important poll is for you to choose the characters you'd most like to see kick the bucket. Feel free to vote for multiple deaths.