“Remus, we need to talk.”

The haggard werewolf paused, his hand on the doorknob. “What do you want, Kingsley? I’ve got things to –”

“Not now, you don’t,” Kingsley said in a low voice. Remus frowned – he caught the slightly strained note in Kingsley’s voice.

“Dumbledore needs me to –”

“This’ll only take a few minutes,” Kingsley said quickly, pulling open a door. Hastily muttering a few words and waving his wand, he stepped inside the spacious coatroom (magically expanded to hold dozens of cloaks and coats), pulling a startled Remus in right behind him.

“This must be important,” Remus said suspiciously.

“Of course it’s important. Hell, if you haven’t noticed that something’s up in Grimmauld Place, you’re not as smart as I thought, Remus,” Kingsley said grimly, closing the door of the coatroom, leaving them in semi-darkness.

“What’s this all about?” Remus asked slowly.

“Do you know what Sirius, Potter, and Tonks are up to?” Kingsley shot back, his tone razor-edged. “Sirius Apparates out of the room now after every meeting and the meetings in which Tonks does show up she’s tight-lipped. As for Potter –”

“He’s been spending all his time up in his room,” Remus said, frowning with confusion. “Sure, he’s more on edge now than usual, but –”

“Remus, let’s cut to the chase, shall we?” Kingsley said evenly, crossing his thick arms over his chest. “I’m not a stupid man, and I can tell when there’s obvious antagonism between two people. Something broke between you, Sirius, and Potter, and now they’re up to something. Care to fill in the blanks?”

“That’s assuming a lot,” Remus warned. “After all, Sirius wouldn’t dare try something that would take him out of the house –”

“Really?”

Remus was about to retort, but he froze in mid-word. Would Sirius dare to leave Grimmauld Place in his current mood? Would he openly defy Dumbledore?

In a heartbeat, he thought, swallowing hard at the possible implications. Especially now.

“Those three are up to something,” Kingsley said darkly, pacing around the room, “and it worries me that I don’t know as much about it as I’d like. The investigation into what happened at Ollivander’s has been placed off-limits to everyone who isn’t certified for it, and even the few favours I’ve managed to call in haven’t helped either. What I did manage to find out disturbs me.” He lowered his voice. “Their prime suspect is Potter.”

Remus’ eyebrows shot up. “You’re kidding me. They honestly think Harry would do –”

“He was confronted at the scene of the crime, and he fled,” Kingsley growled. “And who did we hear about the attack from first?”

“You’re not implying –”

“I’m not implying anything,” Kingsley snapped. “I just think it’s damn suspicious that Potter coincidentally happened to be in Diagon Alley right in front of Ollivander’s at the time of the explosion. This is the second explosion in Diagon Alley in a month, and I would be foolish not to think there’s a connection. So, is there anything you’re not telling me, Remus?”

Remus closed his eyes. “Kingsley… I, I can’t say –”

“Can’t say what?” Kingsley snarled. “Can’t say that you suspect Potter was involved in both incidents? Can’t say that you suspect that Tonks and Sirius have been circumspectly aiding him in whatever the hell he’s doing? Can’t say why your friendship with Sirius seemed to fall apart mysteriously around the time of the Gringotts incident, and now, only a few days after the Ollivander’s explosion, you can’t even look him in the eye? What are you hiding, Remus, that you don’t want Dumbledore or I to know?”

“I… look, Kingsley, I don’t know all the details –”

“I know you don’t, because it’s clear as glass that Potter doesn’t trust you farther than he can see you,” Kingsley said coolly. “Hell, the only person who might know more than you in this matter is Snape, and Merlin knows that he’s not talking to anyone! What we do know is this: somebody tried very hard to keep me out of the loop between the Gringotts incident and Potter’s trial, and now all hell has broken loose again – and somehow, Potter’s connected to it.” Kingsley took a step closer, his eyes blazing. “What I don’t know is why. Why Potter, Tonks, and Sirius are so secretive. Why Potter was really in Diagon Alley that day. Why Potter seems to be searching for something, even after he was cleared, something with which he trusts very few. Do you know anything, Remus?”

Remus blew out a heavy breath. “Kingsley, I think he’s after the Potter accounts.”

Whatever Kingsley was expecting, that was not it. A look of confusion crossed his face, quickly replaced by skepticism. “What?”

“You heard me, the Potter accounts at Gringotts that were closed nearly fourteen years ago!” Remus replied heatedly. “I don’t know how he found out, but he’s already interrogated me once, and he won’t go to Dumbledore. I couldn’t tell him anything, though – I’ve got too much at stake.”

Kingsley cocked an eyebrow. “So that means you won’t tell me anything, either?”

“I can’t, Kingsley, he already threatened –”

“Who threatened?” Kingsley said sharply. “Forget the pronouns, who’s threatening you?”

“He’s not even involved directly – hell, I don’t even know he knew to come to me –”

“A name, Remus,” Kingsley growled.

“Snape.” Remus turned away and rubbed his forehead, a dull flush creeping into his features. “He… blackmailed me.”

“What would Severus Snape have on you?” Kingsley asked incredulously. “And why was he even involved –?”

“I can’t say, Kingsley!” Remus snarled angrily. “Damn it, I wish I could, but I can’t. It’s… it’s complicated. Dumbledore already knows.”

“And he’s letting Snape get away with blackmail?” Kingsley asked furiously.

“I don’t think that’s exactly it, considering Snape favours no side but his own,” Remus murmured. “But that’s not the point – Potter knows that Snape was involved, and so does Sirius.”

“It’s no wonder then that Snape doesn’t want to come back here,” Kingsley muttered. “So Potter’s just looking for information, then?”

“Kingsley, I don’t know,” Remus snapped with frustration. “I would tell you if I did, but none of them trust me to let me onto what they’re planning.”

Kingsley groaned with exasperation. “And I can’t exactly let on that I know anything, either… damn it, for once, I wish we only had Voldemort to worry about! The thing is, the best opportunity for Potter to be arrested by the Ministry is at either King’s Cross or on the train itself, outside of Dumbledore’s direct jurisdiction, and you can bet that if Kemester’s involved in any way, they’ll make their first move when the train’s en route. On the one hand, I wouldn’t mind having Potter hauled in, if only to clear up some of this mess, but on the other hand –”

“Dumbledore’s already said that he wants Harry at Hogwarts,” Remus finished, running a hand through his thinning hair. “Kingsley, maybe the best thing in this case is… is just not to interfere at all.”

Kingsley’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re just going to let –”

“I’m saying we should let Harry make the first move,” Remus said heavily. “Fact is we can’t do anything that’ll make the situation any better… so let’s just avoid the situation entirely. We only interfere if we’ve got no other choice.”

“We should tell Dumbledore.”

“Odds are, Kingsley, he already knows.”

Kingsley stared at Remus for a long few seconds before sighing. “This isn’t just, Remus, you know that. If Harry was responsible for those explosions, and he’s somehow breaking the law –”

“We don’t have proof, Kingsley, and as long as you’re a member of the Order, doing what you’re doing, you’re breaking the law too,” Remus replied quietly.

Kingsley snorted. “Perhaps I am, but this hypocrisy is the credit vice pays to virtue. And it doesn’t mean I like it.”

* * *

“I bloody hate this,” Harry muttered, sliding another book away from him as he rubbed his eyes.

“Harry, if Dumbledore had his way, you’d be under full guard at all times, and the Ministry or Voldemort wouldn’t be able to touch you, and none of this would even be necessary,” Sirius replied tiredly from his position at the end of the table. “And believe me, I’d be the first on that team.”

“Then why isn’t Dumbledore and the Order –”

“We’re stretched too thin as it is, Harry,” Tonks said with a helpless shrug. “Honestly, it’s a bloody miracle that I’ve managed to get as much time off as I have to help you with this crazy plan. And besides, did you really want to go to Dumbledore and ask him for a shortcut to Hogwarts?”

“I’m starting to wish I could,” Harry replied heavily. “Honestly, I am. Even if I’d have to explain some of the things I’ve done, he’d have to reciprocate. The only reason why I’m not doing things that way is –”

“Because you don’t trust him,” Tonks finished. “You still don’t trust Dumbledore. Harry, he’d support you – hell, he could probably get you a private Portkey to Hogwarts if you asked him –”

“Except that I can’t ask him,” Harry said flatly, “and I won’t.”

“And you forgot, Tonks, what Dumbledore himself mentioned about the possibility of the Ministry spying on him,” Sirius added. “Plus, considering Umbridge is planning on being at the school early –”

“All right, all right, I get the point,” Tonks cut him off, glaring at Sirius. “Why don’t you… oh, I don’t know, go get the twins up here? Harry’s leaving tomorrow; surely they’ve got something by now. It’s not like we have much more time.”

Sirius rolled his eyes, but he still got up and left the room, carefully shutting the door behind him.

“Any luck there, Tonks?” Harry asked, shoving aside another book that Sirius had managed to find in Orion Black’s room.

Tonks sighed as she rubbed her eyes. “Harry, most of these books that my mum gave me are only applicable if you have Metamorphmagus talent, and you don’t. There’s not going to be much – if anything – that we can use out of here.”

“Figures,” Harry grumbled. “But why bother to even write the damned books if they can only be used by Metamorphmagi? You told me there aren’t a lot of them.”

Tonks grinned. “Harry, there aren’t a lot of books available about Metamorphmagi talents at all. Most of these were stolen by my mum when she left home to marry my dad. There’s some evidence that the traits are hereditary, so the Blacks had a few books, but not many.” Her grin suddenly turned to a grimace. “Besides, Metamorphmagi have a really bad reputation in the wizarding world.”

“Why?” Harry asked curiously. “I mean, I’ve never heard anything about –”

“You wouldn’t have, Harry,” Tonks replied, her scowl deepening. “I’ve already told you that Metamorphmagi are really rare, but it didn’t stop people from being prejudiced against them.” She snorted. “In a way, it actually made more sense than any blood prejudice.”

“I can hardly see –”

“Harry, when Metamorphmagi first started appearing in the twelfth century – or at least that’s when I think they started appearing, a lot of that information’s murky – people were scared. Really scared, actually. Impersonation’s a powerful tool, and a Metamorphmagus, who can take anybody’s form at will, is a very dangerous person indeed.” She sighed as her hair went from bright pink to a rather sodden aquamarine. “So the early wizards killed off all the male Metamorphmagi and… sequestered the females.”

Harry winced. “Something tells me you’re not telling me all the details about this.”

Tonks gave Harry a bitter smile. “Well, sequestration sounds a lot better than locked in exclusive brothels under the Imperius Curse, doesn’t it?”

Harry swallowed hard. “I thought using that curse was illegal.”

“Well, that’s political maneuvering for you,” Tonks replied with another snort. “Leaders were scared to death of being impersonated, so they wrote a nice little loophole into their laws that allowed it, only in this case. In any case, that little bit of legislation regarding Metamorphmagi remained on the books until it was repealed just over fifty years ago. Can you guess who took it off the books, who told all the rich politicians and purebloods that had access to their little ‘private establishments’ that what they were doing was wrong?”

Harry’s eyes widened. “Dumbledore.” Of course, it’s starting to make sense now! No wonder she wants me to trust Dumbledore…

“Right in one. Of course, the Wizengamot only pulled the legislation because Grindelwald had freed a few Metamorphmagi and was using them to infiltrate governments, and Dumbledore needed a way to ensure that we’d be on his side instead of Grindelwald’s,” Tonks finished heavily. “It’s an unpleasant story, Harry, and one that the Ministry would like to forget. But this entire mess means is that there’s very little actual Metamorphmagus literature, and what little there is written from an exclusively pureblood perspective.” She wrinkled her nose. “It gets a bit disgusting at times –”

“Have any more luck?” Sirius asked, a hopeful smile on his face as he stepped into the room, the twins right behind him. Harry didn’t like the looks on Fred and George’s faces. They must not have had a lot of success…

Tonks shook her head with exasperation. “I’m honestly not getting anywhere with this,” she said with disgust as she shoved the book to the side. “What about you two?”

Fred slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out a very small, very dark object, which he slowly set on the table. Harry frowned as he looked at it carefully, before looking up at the twins.

“A rock,” he said finally with a trace of disappointment in his voice. “As a weapon, I think it might have been done before.”

“It’s very well polished, though,” Tonks noted, as she picked it up. “Kind of pretty too…”

“But how is it going to help, Fred?” Harry asked sharply. “This isn’t concealing magic.”

“Not exactly,” Fred conceded, his expression suddenly becoming crafty.

“I think it might be a bit better,” added George. “Of course, that depends on what you might have found here.”

“You see, this rock is a very special rock,” Fred said, taking the rock from Tonks and setting it back on the table. “It’s enchanted to radiate a field in a certain, somewhat predefined radius.”

“What kind of field?” Sirius asked, sitting down at the table with an intrigued expression on his face.

“That’s just it, we haven’t decided yet,” George said with a hint of a smile. “Light, heat, magic, you name it, with the right configuration and enough power, this rock will emit it.”

“The trick that George and I have been working on is both choosing the right spell and working on the size of the field,” Fred continued, drawing his wand carefully. “We were considering putting an Invisibility Spell in it and putting it on a hat –”

“Headless Hats, anyone?” George suggested with a growing smirk on his face. “Problem is, a spell like that wouldn’t help you, and probably wouldn’t last long enough either to be of use. And neither of us has found a good Invisibility Charm –”

“We were planning on combing the Hogwarts library in a fervor unparalleled even by your friend Hermione –”

“So we’re thinking you might have been able to find a better spell to cast into the rock,” George finished. “Any ideas?”

Tonks ran a hand through her hair. “That’s… that’s actually really interesting. You could have a real market for those things.”

“The problem is that I don’t think we’ve managed to find any disguise charms that would make sense cast into that stone,” Harry said intensely, flipping open the nearest book and flipping through the pages. “And considering those rocks only holds one spell at a time –”

“Aha!” Sirius exclaimed, pushing down the page in the book he was perusing, a rare smile on his face. “I knew there was something here: the Visual Expectations Charm, a nifty little spell that fell out of fashion a good hundred and fifty years ago when the Disillusionment Charm was created. Used to be all the rage among thieves and plunderers alike.”

“No surprise it’s in a Black spellbook, then,” Tonks said wryly, moving next to Sirius with Harry. “Strange, I’ve never seen it before…”

“Probably because the Disillusionment Charm is simply better in the majority of circumstances,” Sirius replied with a shrug. “This little spell, according to the book, allows the caster to ‘blend in’ with his surroundings, using preferences of the person and the characteristics of the surroundings to create the desired illusion. Problem was, the caster had to be completely stationary for the duration of the spell, otherwise the illusion would break apart.” He looked at the stone on the table, a grin spreading across his face. “But if we cast this charm directly into the rock, Harry could carry the field around with him –”

“And that would make me effectively disguised,” Harry finished, a grin creeping across his own face as he closely scanned the text. “Tonks, do you think you could cast the spell into the stone?”

“Just a second, we can’t rush into this,” Tonks replied warily as she scanned the text. “The spell’s got a maximum duration here of only four hours, and I’m sure that it’ll put more pressure on the illusion if the field is moving. But I might know a way to at least extend the charm’s life for a few more hours…” Picking up one of the discarded spellbooks, she began leafing through it frantically.

“And then there’s the problem of the illusion itself,” Sirius said, scratching his chin thoughtfully. “The last thing we need is for the illusion to fail midway between King’s Cross and Hogwarts. Harry, you might still have to wear a disguise, even just to keep the illusion intact –”

Harry groaned. “We don’t have time to put together a full –”

“It would at least give you something if you’re approached by anyone,” Fred said fairly. “Doesn’t Malfoy make a point of finding you every time you’ve gone on the train? If you’re in disguise, you can hide in plain sight and let the charm do the rest.”

“And I’m sure that you could come up with a disguise quickly enough,” George finished. “And if you can’t, I’m sure Fred and I could come with something for you –”

But a grin was already spreading across Sirius’ face. “Hey Tonks, in the persona file that we worked up for your ‘Nymphadora Vuneren’ alias, didn’t we say she had a younger sibling?”

“Yeah, a sister, about seventeen, homeschooled at the Vuneren manor,” Tonks replied distractedly. “Likely would be a Ravenclaw if sorted…”

Her voice trailed off as she looked up to see the identical evil grins on the twins’ faces, and Harry’s horror-stricken expression.

“No,” Harry said firmly. “Absolutely bloody not.”

“Oh come on, Harry, think about it for a second!” Fred said exasperatedly. “Nobody would suspect you disguising yourself as a girl!”

“No shit, because I’m not going to!” Harry replied heatedly.

“Harry, it’s a perfect bluff, and you already have an alibi,” Sirius said, fighting to keep the smile off his face. “Tonks and I can help you with some minor charms and transfigurations – any major transfigurations could be very dangerous – and we can let Fred and George’s rock do the rest. And besides, it’s a great cover – who would bother a quiet Ravenclaw seventh year, sitting by herself as she studies? Answer – nobody. The house is pretty reclusive, Harry – nobody would even question it.”

“But does it have to be a girl?” Harry asked with frustration. “I’m not a bloody fairy, for Merlin’s sake!”

“He’s in denial,” George said in a stage whisper.

“I know a good therapist who might be able to help him,” Fred replied seriously. “These sorts of issues require professional help –”

“Fuck you both,” Harry muttered vehemently. “Is there another way?”

“Harry, it’s only a disguise, and Sirius and I can use spells so that nobody will know the difference,” Tonks said, putting a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “It won’t be perfect, but Fred and George’s stone will compensate for everything we miss. And nobody will know it’s you.”

Harry blew out a long breath. “Fine, but if possible, I want all the spells to wear off at the same time – I don’t want to be looking like a freak for the Welcoming Feast. And this stays between us – nobody else needs to know anything about this, got it?”

Tonks nodded. “Make sure you’re up and awake before anyone else is tomorrow morning – earlier than six if possible. I dropped by Diagon Alley to get your books – that came to sixteen Sickles, twenty-six Knuts, which I’ll be wanting, by the way – and I left them in your room. Make sure that you have all your things put together tonight – we’ll have a very limited time window if we want to pull this off. You’ll be ready?”

“Don’t expect any problems from me,” Harry said with a weak smile as he quickly left the room, Fred and George behind him.

“Who else are we supposed to expect problems from?” Sirius muttered, “if not him?”

“Kemester,” Tonks growled. “I’ll bet you ten-to-one he’ll make a move tomorrow – knowing him, he’ll probably try and hit the train en route, even though he’s not on the investigation. Even despite everything we’re doing, there’s still a chance Harry’s disguise won’t hold up.”

“Not to mention the fact that Voldemort could try something,” Sirius added thoughtfully.

“I doubt it – he probably doesn’t want to expose himself this early…” Tonks swore as she slammed her hand on the table. “I just have a bad feeling that this won’t be enough, and we don’t know how effective the twins’ stone will be. Harry’s going to need backup this time – a way out if the Hit Wizards begin using aggressive tactics or his cover is blown.”

“Are you suggesting a disguise for yourself too?” Sirius asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s already planned – partially,” Tonks muttered, pulling a scrap of paper out from under one of the books. “I’ve already spoken to my superiors about having a day off tomorrow, so nobody will miss me as long as I report in at the Welcoming Feast, and I took care of as many HAIT members that I could reach who could make things difficult. I’ll use the Vuneren cover when escorting Harry to Hogwarts, it’ll strengthen his disguise, particularly if he’s spotted. But that doesn’t get me on the train…”

“I got it,” Sirius said suddenly, his eyes lighting up.

“Got what?”

“A way you can extract Harry if everything goes to pieces! Nobody will see it coming, and your cover will remain intact.”

“I’m all ears,” Tonks said cautiously. Her eyes widened as Sirius told her his plan. Finally, when he was finished, she shook her head adamantly. “You’re out of your mind, Sirius. If Dumbledore –”

“Who says he needs to know?” Sirius interrupted slyly. “Just go to Hagrid and get what you need from him, and make sure you notify Harry with one of those mirrors.”

“You can’t be serious,” Tonks protested. “I’m all for crazy plans, Sirius, but that really takes the cake. It’s a bloody suicide mission, for both of us!”

“So I’m assuming you’re doing it?” Sirius asked, a wry smile spreading across his face.

“What other choice do I have?” Tonks shot back sharply. “It’s a good plan – provided it doesn’t get us both killed. And you know I’m not going to get any sleep tonight?”

Sirius clapped her on the shoulder. “Blacks don’t need sleep, Tonks. Guess you’re becoming more like us after all.”

* * *

Ron awoke to the sound of shouting, echoing up the narrow staircase towards his locked door…

He frowned and rubbed his eyes. The door wasn’t locked – not the way he and Harry had left it the night before. That’s bloody strange… “Harry, did you leave the door unlocked?” he grumbled, rolling over towards Harry’s bed.

A bed that was neatly made – and unoccupied.

Ron sat bolt upright and looked quickly around the room, hastily pushing the hair out of his eyes. Harry’s trunk is gone too… where did he go? Was he kidnapped or something –

Scrambling out of bed, he pulled open the door and quickly descended to the kitchen… where his mother was screaming her lungs out at Fred and George, who were only looking passably guilty.

“YOU COULD HAVE DEALT HER A SERIOUS INJURY, YOU IDIOTS –”

“Ron!” Fred exclaimed, spotting his younger brother at the base of the staircase. “Bloody fantastic to see you this fine morning –”

“Fred, Harry’s gone!” Ron interrupted as he struggled to control his breathing.

Mrs. Weasley stopped shouting instantly, and the silence in the kitchen was deafening. Lupin, who had been slicing bread by the counter, nearly dropped the knife in his hand.

“What do you mean, gone, Ronald?” Mrs. Weasley asked in a dangerous voice. “Was he –”

“All his stuff too. His bed was made, his trunk was packed, everything was gone,” Ron said quickly, an edge of panic in his voice. “I dunno what happened to him – could he have been abducted or –”

“Ron, there’s nothing to worry about,” Sirius said easily, folding his newspaper as he took a sip of his tea. “Tonks and Harry just went early to King’s Cross to throw off any Death Eaters that might try and make sudden moves.”

“Did they really?” Lupin asked, a bland note of curiosity in his voice. “That’s funny, I didn’t see them.”

Fred and George exchanged smirks, but only Ron seemed to notice.

“It was really early,” Sirius said with a grimace, holding back a yawn. “In any case, it’s nothing to worry about, Remus – everything’s under control.”

“Harry was supposed to under guard to King’s Cross with all of us!” Mrs. Weasley said sharply. “Why weren’t any of us informed of the change in plans –”

“Can’t tell you that,” Sirius replied breezily, turning back to his paper. “Top secret. Little bit of a gambit, really. A tactical bluff, if you will.”

“Does Dumbledore know about this?” Mrs. Weasley asked, her eyes narrowing.

Sirius looked up and shrugged, a small grin on his face. “Molly, what doesn’t he know?”

Lupin visibly tensed at Sirius’ remark, but Mrs. Weasley relaxed with relief. “All right, then,” she said, turning back to the twins. “Next time, you two be careful when you’re bringing your trunks down! There’s no need to nearly kill Ginny by sending them hurtling down the stairs –”

“Right-o, Mum,” George replied brightly, putting his hand on Ron’s shoulder and steering him towards the door. “Don’t mind us – we’ll keep ourselves and Ronniekins out the way until we’re all fully packed and ready.”

“What is going on?” Ron hissed the second they were out of his mother’s vision. “Where’s Harry –”

Fred and George’s faces both turned grim. “Trust us, Ron, it’s better you don’t know,” Fred said in a low voice.

“Operational security and all that,” George added.

“Are you two involved? I mean, did he get you –”

“Quit sputtering, Ron, or it’ll turn into a habit,” Fred advised. “Now go get your prefect badge, find Hermione, and don’t go looking for Harry until you get to Hogwarts, all right? He’ll be safer that way.”

“But what’s going on?” Ron asked wildly. “Does he still not trust me enough to tell…”

His voice trailed off as Fred and George exchanged wary glances.

“Well, let’s put it this way,” Fred said carefully. “Harry’s encountered a bit of trouble, and he asked for our help.”

“Smart man,” George added, a small grin crossing his face. “He goes straight to the professionals.”

And with that, they continued up the stairs, leaving an utterly bewildered Ron standing in the stairwell.

* * *

Luna Lovegood always preferred arriving early at King’s Cross if she could help it. Of course, she couldn’t always help it – her father’s work always made it a tad difficult getting things put together in the morning. But she preferred it. That way, she could always find a nice compartment not already infested by Wrackspurts and other peculiar creatures… not to mention other students. The train always has a dreadful infestation of those beings, she thought concernedly as she pulled her trunk behind her through the nearly deserted train, peeking into each compartment in turn. They should really get somebody to contain them… I know Dad has spoken about the problem on many occasions…

She frowned slightly as she peeked into another compartment. Hmm… they should bring in somebody to take care of those white stains in the seat cushions. They don’t want to attract Sacarbi onto the train – once those poor creatures start nesting, they’re very difficult to remove…

Tucking her blonde hair behind her wand (which was precariously balanced behind her ear), Luna looked into another compartment to see a very strange sight. That’s very odd – the compartment’s nearly Wrackspurt-free… and I thought Dad said that even the Ministry couldn’t effectively get rid of them… all the same, I can’t pass up on the opportunity…

She slid the compartment door open and heaved in her trunk – only to see that the compartment was already occupied. A single student, a pretty girl with strawberry-blonde hair and a slightly nervous expression, was sitting by the window, a book open on her lap and a small, rather battered mirror sitting beside her.

“I’m sorry,” the girl asked quickly, “are you l-looking for something?”

Luna gestured at the empty seat. “I’d like to sit here, if you wouldn’t mind.” She lowered her voice as her eyes brightened. “Everywhere else has Wrackspurts – I don’t think I’ve ever seen an infestation on the train this bad before…”

“Er… right,” the girl replied, confusion replacing the panic on her face. A very good sign, Luna noted to herself. If she’s not afraid of the Wrackspurts, there’s less of a chance she’ll attract them over here.

After Luna had settled down, she noticed the other girl was staring at her. Luna paid her no mind as she pulled her copy of the Quibbler from the top of her trunk. After all, it’s fun to feel a bit confused – best to let her enjoy it while she still can.

The other girl finally closed her book. “Sorry to interrupt,” she slowly began, “but, uh, I don’t know who you are. You’re here awfully early.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Luna replied happily, smiling as she met the girl’s bright green eyes. I think I might have seen those eyes before somewhere… didn’t Dad once say that Heliopaths have green eyes, to contrast with their flaming nature? But that would mean I must have seen a Heliopath and forgotten about it… “I’m Luna, Luna Lovegood. And I don’t know who you are.”

The girl blushed. “I’m sorry… I’m Isabelle Vuneren. I’m new here.”

Luna frowned. “You are here, right? Not a Sacarbi in disguise? My dad just told me about those… I didn’t think there were any white stains in here…”

The confusion returned to the girl’s face. “N-no, I’m here, why wouldn’t I be? And what’s a Sacarbi?”

“If you don’t know, you don’t want to know,” Luna advised her in a near-whisper. “I’ll just assume you’re actually here, okay? A hallucination is occasionally interesting, but I want to finish the magazine Dad gave me.”

“That, uh, seems like a good assumption,” Isabelle replied awkwardly. “You’re a Ravenclaw, right?”

“Wit beyond measure is man’s best treasure,” Luna recited to herself, a small smile on her lips as she peeked out the window.

“That’s a ‘yes,’ right?” Isabelle asked cautiously.

“I think so,” Luna replied serenely. “Never can be sure, there’s always that uncertainty principle hanging about.”

“Uncertainty principle?”

“I thought everyone knew about it,” Luna said, a serious look in her eyes. “A great Muggle scientist named Hindenburg came up with it about sixty years ago. Brilliant man – society never gives him enough credit.”

The look of confusion was back on Isabelle’s face, and Luna nodded with certainty as she turned back to her magazine, happy that she made a new friend.

* * *

“All right!” Reed Larshall shouted to the assembled group of Hit Wizards standing in front of him. “This mission is of extremely high priority, and will require a great deal of precision to complete correctly. If any part of this mission is botched by any of your incompetence, there’ll be hell to pay.”

“And what if it’s your incompetence?” a dark-haired, smirking fellow named Roger Lassion shouted from the back of the briefing room.

“Then I’ll be paying dues to the devil, not you,” Larshall returned, as a few sparse chuckles broke out. “In any case, most of you already know our role in this mission. After the first wave stops the train, we move in after it begins moving. Identification of the right car is absolutely critical – we want to avoid any collateral damage, considering the number of innocent students on that train. Once we capture him, we proceed directly to our rendezvous point. If he manages to elude us, this becomes HAIT’s problem, not ours. Hopefully, he’ll come quietly without a huge fuss.”

“And if he doesn’t?” Boyd Clyvis, a hard-bitten veteran from the First War shouted. “What then?”

“We give chase, but break off immediately if the situation becomes dangerous. We’ve already lost people chasing this suspect before,” Larshall said, fighting back the catch in his throat. “We’re not losing any more. Clear?”

There was a grunt of assent, and Larshall gestured towards the doors. “To your brooms, people.”

The room broke into a familiar din as the Hit Wizards moved for the exits. Larshall turned to tuck the few papers he brought with him into his bag, only to see Dmitri Kemester leaning against the wall in the back of the briefing room, a grim look on his face.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Larshall said hurriedly, a cold sweat going down his back as he gestured towards the doors. “If Bones finds out –”

“I’ve got leave to be here,” Kemester replied coolly, pulling open the back door and following Larshall through it. “It’s a briefing, come on – am I so disgraced that I’m not allowed in those anymore?”

“This is a covert investigation, just the same,” Larshall replied tensely, his eyes sweeping the hallway as he walked. “You shouldn’t have listened in.”

“I knew something seemed off about that,” Kemester said suddenly, snapping his fingers. “Why the hell are you in charge of the investigation? I thought you were going to be joining me with HAIT?”

“Change of plans,” Larshall replied with a disgusted scowl. “Orders were placed that I was to be transferred out and placed in charge over here. I don’t exactly mind.”

“Well, I do!” Kemester snarled. “Who the hell did they replace you with?”

Larshall closed his eyes, preparing for the inevitable explosion. “Sanders.”

“Sanders?” Kemester’s voice was as incredulous as it was angry. “The guy’s lazy as fuck and imbecilic to boot! I need somebody competent backing me up at Hogwarts!”

“Glad to know you’ve got such a high opinion of me,” a new voice hissed from the edge of the hallway. Larshall winced as Sanders came into view, glaring at Kemester with undisguised enmity. “And you better cooperate with me or we’re going to have serious problems when you get to Hogwarts –”

“And when I care what you think, I’ll ask for it,” Kemester snapped.

“I assume you have a really good reason why you were at the briefing without clearance,” Sanders growled. “I saw you leave the room.”

Kemester’s eyes narrowed as he pulled out two, official-looking pieces of paper. “I got you your warrant, Larshall. Your mission plan’s a go.”

Finally, Larshall thought with relief, but Sanders snatched the paper before Larshall could even move.

“How on earth did you get this, Kemester? You’re in disgrace –”

“Doesn’t mean that if you know the right people, things can’t get done,” Kemester cut him off icily. “The warrant you’ve got, Larshall, is for hitting the train en route. This one’s for Hogsmeade Station, intercepting that filthy fugitive before he gets inside the gates of Hogwarts. We can’t let him get under Dumbledore’s safety blanket – none of those warrants are binding in Hogwarts without the approval of the school governors, and I couldn’t get that.”

“And who did you bribe to get these?” Sanders spat, unable to hold back the note of raw jealousy. “Because there’s no way –”

“The seal’s authentic, isn’t it?” Kemester said with a snort as he yanked the paper out of Sanders’ hand and passed it to Larshall. “And as a matter of fact, my contact was more than willing to supply me with the warrants.” His cold smile had no warmth as he tucked the second warrant back into his pocket. “At least someone around here understands that justice must be meted.”

“We’ll get him,” Larshall said calmly. “Don’t worry, Dmitri, Potter’s not getting away from me again.”

There was the sound of hammering footsteps, and a hurried salute from one of the junior Hit Wizards. “Sir, the teams are ready.”

“Good,” Larshall replied, taking a deep breath. It’s time. “Signal the first wave to begin. As soon as they do their job, we’ll take him down.”

* * *

“Anything off the trolley, girls?” the stout old woman asked, peeking into the compartment.

“No thanks,” Harry replied quickly, unnerved by the sound of a high-pitched voice coming out of this throat. It might have been good charmwork, Tonks, and it might have been essential for my disguise, but you’re still going to pay for this.

“What about you, dearie?” the woman kindly asked Luna, who looked up from her magazine with a slightly perplexed look on her face.

“I still don’t understand how you can mistreat frogs so badly as to turn them into chocolate,” Luna said, a hurt edge creeping into her voice. “It’s very cruel, you know.”

The trolley woman sighed and shook her head as she began to close the door. “You know that they aren’t real frogs, my dear?”

“Not anymore, they’re not,” Luna replied sadly. “It’s a real tragedy, it is. My father wrote all about it in the Quibbler a year ago, didn’t you read about it?”

The woman shook her head again. “Dearie, the Quibbler is a bunch of fairy tales. It’s not true.”

“Excuse me?” Luna said, her voice suddenly sharpening. “My father’s the editor.”

That explains a lot, Harry thought, confusion and pity mingling in his mind. Poor girl just doesn’t know the truth about things… she must get teased like something awful at Hogwarts…

He carefully raised the small mirror on the seat up to his face. “Tonks?” he whispered. “Anything new, yet?”

“Something’s up, but we already knew that,” Tonks said, her voice barely audible from the glass. “The entire Hit Wizard section in MLE has been sealed off, according to a friend of mine over there. They’re really trying to keep this covert…”

“All right, keep me posted then,” Harry muttered, hurriedly placing the mirror into his pocket. He reopened his book and tried to concentrate on the words, but it was difficult without his glasses. I know why Tonks wanted me to take them off, but it’s still bloody frustrating…

“You must have a very nice reflection,” Luna said suddenly, the distracted note in her voice completely unnerving Harry.

“Excuse me?”

“Your reflection actually talks to you,” Luna said with a wistful smile. “I wish my reflection was that friendly – I bet she’d have loads to talk about, too.”

Harry went red. “It’s a magic mirror, Luna. My reflection isn’t exactly talking to me –”

He froze. That’s strange, it feels like the train is slowing down, but we aren’t anywhere close to Hogwarts yet… something must be up…

“We’re at Hogwarts already?” Luna asked curiously, closing her magazine with a frown as the lights in the compartment began to flicker. “I didn’t know somebody had upgraded the train…”

“We might have broken down,” Harry murmured, looking out the window, a strange sensation of nervousness and fear taking hold in the pit of his stomach. “Can’t see a thing with all this fog either…”

Then he felt it – the bone-numbing, clammy chill that seemed to seep through every cranny of the compartment. He recognized it in a second – he had already felt it once this summer – and his heart began to hammer with panic. “Oh no, oh fuck,” he whispered. “It can’t be… not now…”

He drew his wand and picked up his mirror. “Tonks, get over here,” he whispered quickly. “Now. I’ve got company, and I’ll blow my cover if I fend it off –”

“That’s strange,” Luna said as she peered out the window. “There are men on brooms outside – a lot of them. I wonder what they’re looking for.”

“The same thing the Dementors are looking for,” Harry said tightly, taking Luna’s arm and holding her to the back of the compartment. “And they’re already here.”

The lights in the compartment died entirely, and Harry gritted his teeth as he pointed his wand towards the door. “Luna, when the door opens, concentrate on the happiest thing you can think of and say ‘Expecto Patronum,’ okay? It’s a charm that should make the Dementors leave, all right?”

Luna nodded as Harry quickly yanked the curtains across the window, plunging the compartment into darkness.

“Why did you do that?” Luna asked, her voice remarkably calm as Harry lit his wand with a muttered word.

“Dementors don’t like sunlight, and we want to make them as comfortable as possible before we invite them in,” Harry replied steadily, pointing his own wand at the compartment door. And any silver-white flashes will immediately alert the Hit Wizards that something’s up. “After all, we wouldn’t want to make the Dementor feel uncomfortable.”

Luna gave him a funny look. “I think you might be a bit strange, Isabelle. Are you sure you’re feeling all right?”

Harry was about to utter a response, but at that second, the door slid open, pulled open by a rotting, scabrous hand.

* * *

“Sir, all of the Dementors have entered the train,” a younger Hit Wizard shouted to Larshall. “What are your orders?”

Larshall cleared his throat and adjusted his grip on the broom. “As soon as the spotters find the car that Potter’s in, we withdraw the Dementors, wait until the train is in motion, and then move in. We surround Potter and take him down. He’s got no way out this time.”

A few tense minutes passed. Larshall frowned as he flew in towards the train, scanning the long line of cars, so close that he could feel the Dementor’s chill in the surrounding air. That’s strange, none of the spotters have signaled anything, but Potter would surely defend himself against a Dementor… this is taking too long, something’s gone wrong…

He soared back up to where the Hit Wizards were hovering. “Any word from the spotters?”

“Nothing, sir,” Dwight said apologetically. “No sign of a silver-white flash or flicker. Look, the Dementors are starting to leave –”

Larshall gritted his teeth. “Lassion, Clyvis, come with me on a pass of the train –”

“Sir, I think I might have identified the cab!” McArthur shouted. “Had a compartment with curtains drawn… it’s got to Potter!”

“And no other compartment would draw their curtains?” Larshall yelled. There was a blast of steam and a shrill whistle – the Hogwarts Express was starting to move.

“With Dementors on the train?” McArthur shouted. “They’d want as much light as possible – even with the fog, there’s no reason to draw the curtains unless they’re –”

“Hiding something,” Larshall finished, his voice already getting hoarse. “All right, which car is it?”

“Second cab from the back, sir!”

Larshall let out a shrill whistle and pointed towards the accelerating car. “Move in, people! Potter’s ours!”

* * *

Harry was breathing very fast as he slowly lowered his wand. Luna’s wand was also drawn, but her eyes were more focused on the door of the compartment than Harry – something for which he was very grateful.

He pulled out the slightly smoking rock in his pocket and swore quietly. The Patronus Charm he had finally cast had driven the Dementor back, but the sudden eruption of magic from his wand had distorted the illusion irreparably. The second the Dementor had withdrawn, there had been a peculiar sucking sound like that of his aunt’s vacuum, and the image of Isabelle had lifted along with Tonks’ charms on his clothes and body, all of which she had linked to the stone. Now only Harry Potter was standing in the compartment – and there was nowhere left to run.

He knew he only had precious seconds before the Hit Wizards were coming. “Luna, make sure my trunk gets off the train, if you can, I’ve got to run.” Wrenching open his trunk, he grabbed his Firebolt and Invisibility Cloak (both of which Sirius suggested he leave on top) and cautiously moved towards the aisle.

“All right, Isabelle,” Luna replied serenely, letting out the breath she had been holding as she sat down and picked up her magazine. “Nice disguise, by the way.”

Harry shook his head as he cautiously stepped out into the corridor. Frightened students were already coming out into the corridor… and at the front of the cab, he could hear shouting.

He made his decision in a second. Keeping his wand high, he began shoving his way towards the rear of the train car. If he could get to the rear of the train and signal Tonks, he might have a chance… or at least a place where he could make a stand…

“Harry, what the –”

“Potter, where do you think you’re –”

“Get out of my way!”

Shoving a startled Ernie Macmilian out of his way, he grabbed the latch of the rear door and threw it open. The rattling and clanking of the train suddenly was far louder as Harry maneuvered himself to jump to the rear cab, the wind whistling by his ears…

CRACK.

CRUNCH.

Harry could only slam his eyes shut as the wizard who had Apparated between the cars was slammed bodily against the moving rear cab, his broomstick breaking to smithereens as he fell beneath the wheels. There was barely any blood, and not even a scream, but Harry knew no man could have survived it, wizard or not. Just what I need, to be blamed for more deaths…

Gritting his teeth, Harry carefully jumped to the rear cab and pulled the door open – even as the Hit Wizards erupted out of the car he had left.

“It’s Potter! Get –”

But Harry wasn’t wasting time. Slamming the door shut behind him, he ran for his life, barely holding onto his broom, cloak and wand as he struggled to pull out his mirror. Fortunately for him, the aisle was nearly deserted, and it only took a few seconds to reach the door at the very back of the train. He pulled it open and darted onto the tiny platform, slamming the door shut behind him with a metallic bang that barely sounded over the clank of the train’s wheels on the tracks…

“Tonks, I’m out of options!” Harry shouted at the mirror. “Where the hell are you?”

“Get to the roof, I’m coming in hot!” Tonks shouted back, her voice barely audible from the mirror. Harry’s eyes widened incredulously as he looked around wildly. How the hell was he supposed to –

He heard the thud of a body slamming against the door, and Harry knew he had only seconds. Grabbing onto his Firebolt with his left hand and holding his wand and cloak in the other, he jumped off of the cab – and did a 360 degree turn, yanking the broom as hard as he could back towards the train. The sky and ground shifted sickeningly as he wrenched himself right side up and tried to adjust his speed to match the train. The Express didn’t travel incredibly fast, but he knew that he would suffer a similar fate to the Apparating wizard if his speed was wrong…

And then he heard it – a low droning roar, like the sound of a speeding sports car… or a giant motorbike…

* * *

Larshall could hardly believe his eyes. This isn’t possible, he thought wildly. How the hell – why would he be here now? This is insanity… unless Kemester was right after all…

“It’s Sirius Black!”

And indeed it was him, screaming in on the giant motorbike that had made him famous amongst the wizarding community. His long hair was flying free, his Azkaban prison robes replaced with jeans and a leather jacket. His wand wasn’t drawn, but Larshall knew it was only a matter of time.

And the infamous convict was flying directly towards Harry Potter, dismounting his broom on the roof of the Hogwarts Express and running for his life, pausing every few seconds to shoot a curse at a nearby flying Hit Wizard.

But Larshall knew, with a sick feeling flooding his stomach, that nothing Potter had would even stand a chance against Black, especially on the motorbike that the murderer handled better than a broom…

“Larshall! Orders!” Clyvis screamed, flying up to where Larshall was gliding over the train, coordinating the attack. “Do we engage Black?”

“Call the Aurors for reinforcements, he’s under their jurisdiction!” Larshall shouted. “Get a message to HAIT, but keeping moving on Potter –”

But his voice was cut off at a new noise – the sound of rubber wheels squealing on the metal roof of the Hogwarts Express. Screams erupted from the cab below, but neither Black nor Potter paid them any mind. Then before Larshall’s astounded eyes, Potter leapt onto the seat behind Black and seized the man tightly. He’s going to escape… he’s going with Black…

There was another squeal of tires and a blast of black exhaust from the motorbike, and the bike leapt into the air, going faster than ever. Black was whooping – whooping – with glee, while Potter was still shooting spells at any Hit Wizard who was close. Larshall felt his stomach clench with rage. He’ll pay for this… humiliating me…

“Do we pursue, sir?” Lassion yelled, zooming up to Larshall’s position. “I think some of the faster of us could catch them –”

“And get pulled into another ‘aeroplane accident’?” Larshall snarled. “Black’s more of a daredevil than Potter, he’ll pull stunts that’ll leave his pursuers dead or worse!”

“But he’s escaping with Potter!”

“Let him!” Larshall roared, glaring at the shrinking spot that was the motorbike. “Potter’s got to get to Hogwarts at some point, and by the looks of things, Black’s taking him there! Send the Auror reinforcements to Hogwarts, and see if we can send some Dementors there as well – if we can’t stop Potter here, we’ll stop him there!”

* * *

Harry was in shock as the motorbike decelerated, skidding on the ground sharply as it hit the dirt. The ride had been half an hour of terrifying speed and dangerous flying, as Sirius had pushed the monstrous motorbike beneath them to its limit. They had long passed the Hogwarts Express, and by the looks of things, had landed not far from the mountain cave where Sirius had hid last year.

Sirius hammered on the brakes sharply, and Harry was nearly thrown from the motorbike as it slid around in a ridiculously sharp turn, kicking up a wall of dust and grit as the bike sputtered to a stop. Both riders were breathing heavily by the time the bike’s engine had quieted.

Harry swallowed hard as he stumbled off of the bike – it had been incredibly uncomfortable riding behind Sirius, the bike wasn’t built for two, despite its size – and he looked with a mixture of relief, astonishment, and fear at his godfather, who was trying to casually dismount the motorbike.

“Sirius…” Harry gasped. “But how…”

The older man shrugged. “Told you I’d be there if you needed me, Harry.”

“But you told Dumbledore you wouldn’t leave Grimmauld Place!” Harry exclaimed. “And now…”

“Some things aren’t always what they seem, Harry,” Sirius replied, and there was a definite wry sound to his voice as he finally faced Harry. Before his astonished eyes, the man screwed up his face…

And transformed into the pink-haired, smirking visage of Nymphadora Tonks in an oversized biker’s outfit.

Harry’s mouth fell open with astonishment. “Bloody hell.”

“That’s what I’d say too,” Tonks agreed heavily, leaning against the bike as she pulled off the leather jacket. “It’s hot riding that thing. A great rush, but I don’t know how Sirius likes it.”

“It was suicidal, that’s what it was!” Harry replied, his voice a mix of awe and exasperation as he put a hand to his head. “How did you… where did you - whose bloody idea was this –?”

“Sirius’, not mine,” Tonks reassured him with a smile. “He thought it would be the perfect bluff to get the Hit Wizards off your trail if you had to run… and it worked.”

“Nearly killed us both,” Harry muttered, taking a few shaky steps and leaning against a nearby tree. “Damn, that was too close. I didn’t expect them to bring in Dementors –”

“Nobody expected that, Harry,” Tonks said with a shrug, awkwardly rolling the motorbike towards the tree. “The Hit Wizards kept the entire investigation very quiet – although you do have to admit it that it was a nice plan to smoke you out.”

“And it worked, too,” Harry finished with a scowl. “I’m not even at Hogwarts yet, for Merlin’s sake!”

“We had to stop here,” Tonks replied as she rubbed sweat from her brow. “According to what I heard, Kemester’s got as much of HAIT as he could find ready to arrest you the second you got off that train. Even presuming your charms lasted that long, it would have been a long shot getting to the carriages up to the castle.”

“We need to get to the carriages,” Harry said heavily. “But I bet Kemester’s got them under guard…”

“Probably only a token force, and if he got the people I hope he did, they won’t be a problem. The trick will be blending in…”

But a smile was already spreading across Harry’s face as his eyes turned to the motorbike. “I’ve got an idea.”

He told her. She raised an eyebrow, but soon her smile matched Harry’s.

* * *

Harry tried to keep his swagger casual as he moved towards the carriages, an easy smile on his face, even though his heart was pounding furiously. His hair, magically lengthened and coloured a ridiculous auburn, coupled with the flamboyant goatee and beard and a few other subtle adjustments courtesy of Tonks, made him look nothing like the Harry Potter that people would usually recognize. She told me to look for the three men in Auror robes, because if Kemester is in command, he’d undoubtedly put them in a position of little importance, considering how much antagonism there is now between the Aurors and Hit Wizards…

He froze in midstep as the last rays of sunlight flashed off the carriages – and off of the creatures pulling them. Harry had never seen anything like them before in his life. They looked like starved horses, with ghostly eyes and massive bat-like wings. They’ve never been there before… the carriages always pulled themselves…

“Looking at something, sir?”

Harry nearly jumped as he turned to meet the casual warm smile of a blond-haired man in Auror robes. A long unsightly scar seamed his face, slicing across his nose and winding down the side of his face to trail down his neck. It made the man’s face seem extremely lopsided, almost hideous, but a note of cheerfulness was in his voice. This must be Rogan Wilson, one of those Aurors that Tonks mentioned!

“A centaur’s hindquarters,” Harry replied smoothly, looking back at the carriages.

Wilson cocked an eyebrow. “That’s a peculiar codeword, Nymphadora.”

“And I thought I told you never to call me Nymphadora,” Harry replied, let a dangerous note creep into his voice, but Wilson was already chuckling.

“Relax, Tonks, I know it’s you. Undercover already?”

“Plain clothes detail, actually,” Harry replied with a shrug. “Kemester wants somebody leading the carriages, so he told me to take the one in front that the new teachers typically use to come up to the school.”

Wilson wrinkled his nose. “Not on combat duty? What’s Kemester thinking, you’re one of the best marksmen in the division, and rumor has it Black might show up in Hogsmeade with Potter! He should have you up by the train or with the rest of HAIT, not babysitting!”

“Well, somebody put him in command of this mess,” Harry said with a roll of his eyes. “In any case, it looks like the train’s already coming in. Any other things I should be aware of?”

“Couple of powerful Shield Charms attached to each carriage, and the required password to get in once the doors are shut is uncertainty,” Wilson said with a wink. “Have fun babysitting.”

Harry rolled his eyes again and headed towards the carriage at the very front of the queue. “Uncertainty,” he muttered under his breath. A second later, the carriage door swung open and Harry pulled himself inside.

The moment the door closed, he pulled out his mirror. “Tonks,” he whispered urgently, “if you get in a carriage after you cause the necessary amount of chaos, the password is ‘uncertainty’, got it?”

“Understood,” Tonks replied tensely. “Any problems with the Aurors?”

“They thought I was you undercover – it worked perfectly.”

“Great. They probably wouldn’t have paid you a second thought anyways, but be on your guard. As soon as HAIT starts to escort the students towards the carriages, I’ll make my move.”

Harry held his breath and chanced a glance out of the carriage window any time he felt that nobody was looking. Once he caught Wilson’s eye, but the other Auror just waved and smiled after Harry gave him a thumbs-up.

A few minutes later, he heard voices – a lot of voices – coming towards the train. He waited to hear Hagrid’s traditional shout, but to his surprise – and worry – he heard nothing. Well, Dumbledore did say he was sending him on a mission, but he still should be back by now –

BOOM.

“It’s Black! Get to the carriages! Find –”

The voice was abruptly cut off. Shouts and screams erupted around the carriages as Harry shoved the carriage door open and drew his wand. Someone – and Harry had a very good idea who – had launched a surprise attack against Kemester’s squad, and was now engaging them in a pitched battle. Harry couldn’t see all the details, but from the sounds of the explosions and sharply cut off shouts, Harry guessed that Tonks was doing very well.

“Get to the carriages!” Harry shouted as he climbed out, but Wilson motioned for him to stand back and get back in. “All students, get into the carriages immediately, they are protected!”

There was nearly a stampede as students flooded towards the carriages, several with wands drawn and horrified looks on their faces. Harry could hear prefects trying to restore order, and he swallowed hard. This is all because of me. All this fear, all this chaos… it’s because of what I’ve done…

He was surprised to feel that he barely felt any remorse.

Another explosion rocked the courtyard between the train and the carriages. Harry heard three bangs in rapid succession somewhere to the left, and he gritted his teeth.

There was a rapid scuffling, and Wilson’s scarred face came into view. “We’ve got them all in, get up to the school and tell Dumbledore that Black’s here and fighting!”

He nodded quickly as the carriages jolted into motion, his heart sinking as he heard another explosion. Tonks hadn’t been able to make it to the carriages in time, and that meant –

CRACK.

“Merlin!”

“Ow, that hurt!”

“Tonks, you Apparated on top of me, and you think you’re in pain?”

“Oh shut up, you liked me on top of you,” Tonks muttered, yanking off Harry’s Invisibility Cloak. Under it, she was wearing her regular Auror robes embroidered with a small silver H.A.I.T. near the chest. “Good plan, by the way.”

“You’re lucky you got alive,” Harry muttered, his face still red from Tonks’ comment. “Good idea to Metamorphose just your upper body into Sirius’ – I’m sure his yelling of the spells would have convinced them he was actually there.”

“Nearly ripped my robes to pull it off, but it worked,” Tonks replied, settling herself into the seat next to Harry and angling her wand at his face. With a few muttered spells, Harry was back to normal, an irritated look on his face.

“What’s the problem now?”

“Those spells were ridiculously uncomfortable to apply and remove,” Harry replied with a scowl.

“Good thing we only have to do them once then,” Tonks countered with a grin. “Now I just have to pass word that Sirius Black is on the loose in Hogsmeade to Dumbledore.”

“You think he’ll buy it?” Harry asked worriedly.

“Of course, my real message is that I managed to rescue you from a planned Ministry seize operation, and that Sirius agreed to my whole plan,” Tonks continued, her smile widening. “And won’t Kemester be surprised that you showed up in Hogwarts with nary a scratch?”

“He’ll be livid, you know,” Harry said with a shake of his head. “Frankly, I’m amazed we both managed to get out of this, you in particular. How many Aurors and Hit Wizards were you fighting? Fifteen? Twenty?”

“Twenty-five, but it was more like six, and I had the Invisibility Cloak,” Tonks said with a smirk.

“How does twenty-five become six?” Harry asked skeptically.

“Well, Harry, it’s something like this,” Tonks said with a wink. “There are some people in life that money can buy; for everyone else, there are headshots.”