Remus Lupin

This chapter was originally both chapters three and four. I combined them because they went together better than apart.

For more information on how I come up with ideas used in this story, please see my LJ www.hpmuse.livejournal.com. Also, I've painted a few watercolors of Hecate and Scorpius on my dA, www.theodusa.deviantart.com.

Disclaimer: I assure you, I do not own Harry Potter. I also don't make money off my writing.

Thank you TPP team for allowing my story on your site and for all of your help!

Chapter 3 – Remus Lupin

Muscle memory seemed to recall for me that hospital food was not the best tasting. However, since my own memories couldn't back them up, each food had been a new and exciting experience. The hospital food, however, had nothing on Molly Taylor's cuisine. Flapjacks made from scratch with real butter and maple syrup – to die for. Sausages with Molly's own blend of spices – heaven. And don't even get me started on her orange juice. I could subsist on her orange juice.

Molly laughed with delight as we tore through her offerings like starving third world citizens. "Don't eat so fast, Scorpius, you're going to make yourself sick. Hecate, you've got a bit of butter on your cheek there."

Scorpius managed to slow down a touch, but I wasn't sure if it was going to help him not get sick or not. I cleaned my face off. With an eye on Molly, I matched my pace to her. An obscure book on Japanese manners was all that I had to base myself on – and that was the biggest tip for pace.

"Did the hospital charm our dinners so we couldn't get sick from eating?" I asked between small bites of flapjacks.

"Something like that," Molly said. "Scorpius, a little slower, dear."

By then, however, Scorpius had finished his flapjacks, and half of his sausages. There was hardly any point in him ceasing. If he was going to get sick from eating too fast, the damage was already done. I sat back in my seat with a sigh.

This whole situation was unnerving. I had only just gotten comfortable in Scorpius' presence. Mrs. Pomfrey was nice enough, too. I didn't know enough about Healer Pomfrey, Sirius Black, or James Potter to really make any judgments there.

But Molly Taylor was a mystery to me. She was a formidable woman, not to be trifled with. She had managed to scrape together a very lovely flat and furnish it in the little time I'd known her. I didn't know enough otherwise to know anything – and here I was sitting at her table, trying to figure out what to say to her.

It was like taking the baby steps to talk with Scorpius all over again. And really, we still weren't entirely sure of the other. After all, sitting in a bed for a week discussing things we remembered reading surely couldn't be counted as sharing your deepest secrets. We didn't have secrets. We were just two empty vessels, waiting for memories.

Was this what being born was like, those first few memories? Everything based on instincts, muscle memory to latch on to mother's nipple, vague recollections of sounds from within the womb. Only that all we were left with was anything we had ever read in the thirteen(ish) years before we ended up in St. Mungo's.

I shook off my musings as Scorpius finished eating. Molly stood up, gathering the dishes from the table. She carried them over to the sink. The best way, I decided, to get to know Molly was to help her do stuff. I picked up my own glass, plate, and fork and carried it into the kitchen. Scorpius wasn't too far behind with his dishes. He must have come to the same conclusion.

"Thank you, dears," Molly said, taking the dishes from us both.

She raised her wand, and with a flick, the dishes leapt into the air over the sink and began to wash themselves up. As we backed out of the kitchen, they flew into the cupboards one by one. The last fork clinked into the drawer no less than five minutes later.

"Feeling up to a short walk?" Molly asked. "We can always hail a cab."

Scorpius and I exchanged a glance. "I think we're fine with a walk."

"Yeah, all right," he said.

Molly shut the door behind us as we stepped out into the dense heat. The hall outside the door was made entirely of dull gray concrete, our pale yellow door being the only one on the floor. She glanced down the stairs and then quickly cast a few wards on the front door.

"All right, you two, let's go," she said, smiling brightly. There was an amount of falseness to it, though. It was the kind of smile you forced through nerves.

We followed Molly down the concrete stairs in silence. A door like ours was on each of two landings, the last of which was on the ground floor. The building outside of the halls was painted the same color as our door, with a large brass "A" hanging by the window of the second floor.

"Our apartment is 3A," Molly said. She pointed down the lane, where there were more buildings similar to ours. "I think there are another ten or fifteen buildings, not really sure. There were a few Muggle children your age in building C when I was here last."

We nodded politely, unsure of what to say to this. At least I was. What the hell do you say to the woman who not only saved your life, but took you in and was feeding you and clothing you? Fighting for you to go to school?

What do you say to someone like that?

Neither Scorpius nor I managed to say a word the entire short walk down to the Muggle ASDA. Nor did we manage to say much more than "yes, thank you" or "no, thank you" all throughout the store.

Molly bought various foods, including things we would be able to make on our own. She promised to teach us to cook for ourselves so that when she had a job we wouldn't have to deal with just sandwiches or microwave dinners.

She bought us underwear – making Scorpius blush cutely – socks, and a handful of bras for me. We also got a few pairs of Muggle blue jeans, most of which came with flared legs at the bottom, and t-shirts in various colors.

When at last we left the store, Scorpius and I still hadn't managed to say much more than "thank you". We just didn't know what to say. Even with one another, behavior outside of the normal academic discussion was stilted.

We perhaps may have continued on like this, had it not been for the haggard-looking boy our age who happened upon us. He was carrying a single ASDA bag in either hand, walking slightly behind us. He did not greet us immediately, nor did we pay him much mind. At least, not until we reached the turn-off into our apartment complex.

"You live here, too?" he asked in a slightly husky voice. With a movement far too quick for his slightly-less-than-healthy appearance, he switched his bags over to one hand. With his arm extended to Scorpius, the nearest, he continued. "I'm Remus Lupin. You must be the Taylors."

Scorpius and I exchanged a surprised look, and then we glanced up at Molly together. She smiled down at us. "Now, you didn't think a new tenant moving in would escape notice, did you?"

"Especially fellow wizarding folk," Remus said, barely suppressing a smile. "My dad could feel your wards going up this morning." His hand was still out, carefully hovering in the air.

I reached out around my brother and took the other boy's hand. Though his manner was quiet and steady, his hands felt thoroughly roughened by the elements. There were several scars criss-crossing his hands and what little I could see of his arms. Even in this broiling heat, he was wearing long sleeves. His clothes looked extremely worn – there were holes in the t-shirt he'd pulled over the longer-sleeved one, and his pants were ripped to shreds at the knees and bottoms. He had very light brown hair, just this shade of not being dirty blond.

"Call me Hecate," I said. I hadn't yet gotten used to being called it, as I knew it wasn't my real name. However, I also knew that I would have to get used to it – there was no regaining my lost self.

"Scorpius," said my brother, finally taking the boy's hand. "What's your apartment? Maybe we can do something some time."

"I'm in 1C," Remus said, grinning. "I would love to have you over. Summer's getting too long for my tastes. My mum's been making some of her fudge for you guys, anyway." He raised his bags. "She just ran out of a few things. Anyway, I best get going, or she'll think the Death Eaters have Obliviated me. See you."

When he was out of earshot, Scorpius turned to me. "You reckon he doesn't know?"

"I think so," I said, blinking at the boy's hole-ridden back. "I think I like being treated like I do remember who I am."

Scorpius laughed. "Me, too."

And by some unspoken agreement, the three of us decided to do exactly that. Sure, it was still rather stilted. We were, in essence, strangers thrown together as a family. Neither Scorpius nor I recalled how we were treated by our family, nor how we treated them in return. But, from what limited literature we had read – at least in my case – I did remember that family was there to help, to love, and to cherish. Molly seemed to love us, and she was helping us.

Therefore, it could logically be said that we were, in essence, a family.

"Go put your things up, dears," Molly said as we entered our flat. "And then we'll make some lunch."

Eager to relearn, we worked together to figure out what pants and shirts were whose – we were roughly the same size and wore roughly the same style. Certainly, we knew the pink blouse and the amber-colored baby-doll style shirt were mine. The rest of my shirts, however, were so positively tomboy that we had some amount of trouble.

We stood in the hallway between the two bedrooms, folding the shirts and leaving the pants ready to be hung. We'd already separated the unmentionables at the store.

"Is this one yours or mine?" Scorpius asked, pulling a dark blue t-shirt out of the plastic ASDA bag. The front of it held a full moon with a wolf howling. It looked so realistic that I would have mistook it for a photograph had it been on paper.

"I don't remember," I said, chewing my lower lip. I called lightly into the living room. "Molly! Can you help us?"

The elder woman appeared around the corner, a little bemused to see us in the hall instead of in our rooms. Her expression was odd, something I didn't recognized right away. "Yes, Hecate?"

"Was this shirt mine or Scorpius'?" I asked. Scorpius, for his part, held up the shirt in front of him.

She looked as though she may burst out laughing, but held herself. "Well... I suppose if it fits you both, you could share it."

We exchanged a look. Neither of us had even slept in the beds we would call our own. We had never seen what habits the other had. I, for one, would not like to wear the same shirt that had been left on the bathroom floor for weeks on end. I'm sure he had similar misgivings. I wasn't even sure whether he had moved beyond the "girls have cooties, must ignore them" phase of his boyhood.

I did not even know whether there was such a phase, as I had only recalled it from the books I'd read.

But it was a nice shirt. I did rather like it, and from the look in Scorpius' eyes, he did, too. So, it was with a feeling of hopeful camaraderie that I nodded. "You have it first, Scorpius."

"Thanks," he said, grinning.

Molly, for her part, just started pulling the remainder of the clothes from the bags, helping us sort them between us.

I had only just finished folding my last pair of socks neatly into one mate when the Muggle doorbell rang. Scorpius met me in the hallway, one narrow honey brow raised. We were both thinking the same thing, I think: Remus' mum's fudge had arrived.

Sure enough, a mousy-haired woman and a tall, elegant man were already talking animatedly to Molly. Remus stood off to the side, trying to be unobtrusive. He smiled a bit, wriggling his fingers slightly when he noticed us.

"Oh, here they are," Molly said, ushering us over with a couple of waves of her hand. "Mr. and Mrs. Lupin, this is Hecate and Scorpius."

"Hi," Scorpius said, grinning broadly. I gave a shy smile, uncertain what to say beyond what my brother already had.

"Are they absolutely sure the two are related?" asked Mr. Lupin, eyeing us both with something of a calculating gaze. The abrupt question faltered my steps, even as Mrs. Lupin began shushing her husband in an odd hissing tone. I don't know whether she meant for us to hear or not – if that was a stage whisper, it did its job.

"Why don't you kids go chat for a bit?" Molly asked, turning back to Mr. and Mrs. Lupin without another word. I think she was trying to tell us to give her some time with them alone.

"Come on," I said, nodding toward our rooms. "We can talk better that way."

I could almost watch the tension between Molly's shoulders melt. Apparently, I'd read the meaning correctly. Remus and Scorpius followed me into my room, where I'd already put the first-year and second-year textbooks on my new bookshelves.

"Are you planning on owning a library?" Remus asked, amused.

"I like to read," I said, shrugging.

The amusement vanished from the tired boy's face, changing to chagrin. "I do mean to apologize for being so callous earlier. Had I known you were the one's who'd been Obliviated, I would not have made that comment."

Scorpius and I exchanged what was fast becoming a habitual look. Perhaps it was because neither of us were certain how to act. Or maybe we were just coming to rely on one another more. Both? I didn't know. All the same, we came to a mutual, silent agreement – this boy was a friend.

"It's all right," Scorpius said. "We... we prefer being treated normal."

"Yeah," I added, taking a seat on my bed against the pillows. "We do. It's kind of hard to know how to act if people are careful about how they act around us. So just act normal."

Remus chuckled softly. "I suppose that's true. May I?"

He gestured to the bed. I nodded, and both he and Scorpius sat cross-legged on top of the quilt. I hadn't noticed, but Remus was in only a pair of socks. His shoes must have been at the door. Was that one of Molly's rules? That's one thing I did remember – I had to follow the rules. They were there for a reason. Molly probably had rules for her house – and it was hers, after all – that she wanted us to follow. Is that why she had looked at our stuff in the hall that way?

Suddenly, I was terrified we'd done something wrong. We would have to make it up to Molly somehow. But how? What were things people enjoyed? I remember breakfast was something good. People liked other people making their breakfast. But would that be an appropriate way of expressing... what? Expressing what?

Well... here was a normal boy right here in front of me.

"I think we did something wrong," I said, my brow furrowed. "Earlier. Molly looked at us odd."

Scorpius glanced at me, perplexed. "You mean when we were sorting our clothes in the hall?"

"Yes," I nodded. "We sorted our clothes shopping from the ASDA in the hall."

For his part, Remus smiled in understanding. If there was anything else, I might not have trusted his judgment of what had happened. "Did she look sort of amused, like this?" He made a passable duplicate of the expression Molly had used on us.

"That's the one," Scorpius said, nodding.

"She was surprised, then," Remus said. "I expect she didn't think you would help one another, in particular in the hall. She wasn't upset, if that's what you're worried about. You didn't do anything wrong. Just odd."

"Oh... what should we have done?" I asked.

"I imagine she expected you to each take clothes into your own rooms and sort it out from there," Remus shrugged. "I wouldn't read too much into it."

And that is how we began learning what could not be learned from a book.

Molly called us back out into the living room about half an hour later. Mr. Lupin had to get to work. Remus turned eyes to his mother, a pleading in his eyes alone. Mrs. Lupin laughed at him, a warm laugh that made me smile, too.

"Of course, Remus, if Molly will have you, you may stay with your new friends," she said.

"He can stay for lunch, Wanda, we're just going to have sandwiches," Molly said, smiling at her own new-found friend.

Mrs. Lupin pushed a Muggle leather purse onto her arm. "Don't forget, we have guests tonight, Remus."

"Yes, mum."

Molly saw her the few feet to the door. The moment she turned around, she went straight to the kitchen and started pulling out bread and meats and cheeses from the refrigerator. "Hecate, please set the table. Scorpius, pull down some glasses and get out the pumpkin juice."

"May I help?" Remus asked.

"Oh, no, Remus, dear, you're our guest. Go on and take a seat at the table."

And she proceeded to teach us how to make ham and cheese sandwiches. I think I would have recalled it from just the name alone, but there was no stopping Molly Taylor once she got on a roll. I suspected Scorpius felt the same way.

It felt good. Whatever it was, whatever this feeling was that I could not truly describe, it was good. Friendship? Family? It ran together like melted butter. It was not until much later in my life that I realized this warmth in my chest was caused entirely by a single emotion.

Love.

_-~*~-_

Molly had, once she knew we could fend for ourselves, begun seeking employment in Diagon Alley. We spent the next couple of days in Remus' most agreeable company. And then, most peculiarly, we received an owl missive from his mother, Wanda Lupin, telling us that he was ill. We weren't allowed to come see him. Though we were worried about him, Molly insisted that we go along with Mrs. Lupin's wishes.

It was three days since we last heard anything from the Lupins. Scorpius and I used that time to study second-year material as best we could without casting the spells. It soon became apparent that Scorpius and I had very different study techniques, however.

I would read our books several times, checking myself for correct answers, and often reciting the definitions to myself. Since it was not a good idea to use our wands, I practiced spell movements with a chopstick, the nearest thing to my wand's size, if not weight.

Scorpius, on the other hand, read through each book once, making a series of notes in a Muggle spiral. He practiced the spell movements once or twice and was done with it. He spent the rest of his free time watching the Muggle news and television shows called sitcoms.

However, whenever I asked him a question, he would answer immediately. In spite of his minimal study habits, he always knew the answer. It frustrated me to know that he could study so limitedly and still get every question right. He was every bit as intelligent as I was – a great mind for debate – but he never had to read a text more than once like me.

On the fourth day since Remus had taken ill, I finally could not stand it any longer. "How the hell can you manage to remember the twelve bloody uses of dragon's blood when you've only read the text once?!"

Scorpius laughed quietly, turning toward me on the couch. He shut off the Muggle television set with an easy flick on the remote. "Simple. I commit it to memory the first time. Writing it down makes me recall it. Reading over the notes once more cements it in. Sometimes I need to look over the book or the notes for stuff I don't recall, but it mostly stays put."

A soft tapping – the sound of something hard on glass – interrupted my returning remarks. A barn owl hovered just outside the large double window. Scorpius vaulted over the love seat to unlatch the window. The owl fluttered in, hooting. I grabbed a bit of bread from the counter for it, along with a bowl of water. Scorpius pulled the scrolled letters from its claw, and it hopped over to the refreshments I laid on top of the half-wall outside the kitchen.

"It's from Remus!" Scorpius said, handing me the letter.

Scorpius and Hecate,

Remus

"Bernard," I said, glancing up at the owl. It nibbled on the bread, apparently pleased to have delivered a letter from two flat buildings away. "It suits you, you know."

The owl hooted pleasantly. Scorpius grabbed his quill from his note-taking and penned a quick note. "I hope he's all right, you know, he seemed so sickly last time we saw him, too."

I nodded, chewing on my lip. He was right, of course. The last time we'd seen Remus Lupin, he had looked like he'd been hit with something nasty already. I tied the letter to Bernard's leg, and Scorpius led him over to the unlatched window.

"I'd better get dressed," I said. I hefted my copy of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi up and replaced it on my bookshelf in my room. In almost the same motion, I had taken off my pajama top and bottoms.

I had taken to wearing A-shirts underneath my t-shirts, mostly because I still got random cold flashes from whatever curse had been cast on me. The Pomfreys both suspected the Cruciatus Curse, at the very least. The Madam was a bit undecided why the cold spells were continuing so long after the fact, though. I pulled a black tank on and then the shared wolf shirt. I winced at my closet; there was only one pair of black jeans left. I needed to do laundry today.

By the time I'd gotten back out into the living room, Scorpius was ready to go, too. The TV was off.

"We should leave Molly a note," I said and pulled a blank sheet of parchment out, along with Scorpius' quill.

"She already knows where we're going," Scorpius argued. His hand was already on the doorknob to leave.

"Yes, but it's nice to let her know."

He snorted derisively. "You don't know that for sure." He leaned bonelessly against the door, glaring at the doorknob under his hand. "Neither of us do."

I sighed and finished the short note. "No. We don't. But I think Molly cares about us, and even if she did say it was okay... I think we should just confirm that's where we went. Just in case. I mean, those people who Obliviated us are probably still out there."

Scorpius scowled, but nodded. "Yeah. They are out there. Somewhere." He shook his head, as though shaking off the tails of our pursuers. "Let's go over and meet Remus' friends. He's probably wondering if we've decided not to come by now."

I locked the door behind me the Muggle way – Molly's wards were based on the Muggle keys. The heat of the August day buried its way into my lungs, tripping one of the odd cold spells. I shuddered. My hands shook on the banister all the way to the ground. The hairs on my arms and neck rose in direct opposition to the cloying heat.

Scorpius led the way down the walk, past opened windows and dying bushes. In spite of how short the walk was, I was gasping for breath by the time we'd reached Remus' front door. Scorpius was well aware of what the problem was, as I had long since explained the shivers to him. My body wanted to believe I was somewhere in Antarctica rather than in the dead of summer in London.

Scorpius knocked on the door as Molly had taught us was polite. Remus appeared at the door, and the words were out of my mouth before I could wonder if they were polite or not. The same words came out of his mouth at the same time.

"Are you all right?"

Making Scorpius and two very familiar black-haired boys inside the house laugh, of course.

But I was far from joking. Remus looked even more terrible than we'd last left him. New cuts marred his handsome face, his lanky arms, and what I could see of his chest under his shirt. Worse, his eyes were rimmed with red, and his hair looked shaggy, as though he'd not touched it with a brush in the entire week I'd known him. He looked utterly exhausted.

Remus, for his part, just smiled softly. "I'm fine, I'm quite used to feeling ill. You, however, are not."

I blushed and muttered. "It's an effect from our Obliviate, we don't... we don't know what it is. I just get really, really cold."

Remus shook his head. "Where are my manners? Come inside."

He stepped away from the door, and we removed our shoes. It was almost amusing to look at Remus' own shabby Muggle tennis shoes, a set of black loafers, and a pair of shiny dragon-hide boots next to our new, stark white Muggle tennis shoes.

Almost.

"Hecate, Scorpius, these are my friends–"

"We've already met, Moony," said James. He fluffed up his already-messy hair and gestured toward the kitchen table.

"Yes," Scorpius said. Mirth crinkled the skin around his grey-blue eyes. "Your mother sent you. Sirius, was it?"

"Yeah, that's me." Sirius grinned broadly in spite of the jab. "C'mon, Remus' mum made lasagna."

Almost as soon as I'd sat down with a piece of Wanda Lupin's wonderful-smelling lasagna, Sirius began talking.

"So, seriously," he said, waggling his eyebrows as though he'd already made a clever joke. When only James gave him a pained smile, he continued. "What's it like not having any of your memories? Like, do you remember how to do stuff?"

Remus immediately looked gobsmacked – and I took that to mean that it really wasn't any of Sirius' business. I was about to say so when Scorpius' hand found my shoulder.

"It's okay," he whispered.

"No, it's not," I protested. "He's got no right!"

Scorpius grinned wryly. "And you're basing this on...?"

I scowled. "How I feel about it."

Scorpius turned back to Sirius. "You heard the lady. Seriously. Just treat us normal. It's how we prefer it."

"Sure, cool," Sirius shrugged. But I knew the subject wasn't closed as far as that pair went.

I let the conversation drift, more interested in the differences between Remus' mum's kitchen and Molly's. The initial design was similar to ours – after all, we did live in the same complex. However, where Molly kept her kitchen entirely put away and spotless, Mrs. Lupin's was full of odds and ends. I recalled vaguely that Remus' mum was a Muggle. Various appliances sat on the countertop. Though they looked familiar, they were at once something alien and foreign. Some dishes sat in the sink. Oh, not enough to look dirty or anything – just enough to catch my eyes.

The dining room melded into the living room, the same as with our flat. The walls were all white, and the furniture sleek and black and silver. Even though there was only Remus and his parents, the flat had three bedrooms the same as ours, too. Why? Did they keep the other room for a guest room? I didn't imagine a family like this one to get many guests. From Remus' clothes, it looked like they were barely making ends meet.

So why the need for the extra bedroom?

"Hecate. Hecate, are you listening?"

"Huh?" I whipped around to glance at Scorpius, who was grinning.

"I asked if you were familiar with Quidditch."

I blinked, the question as needed as it was unnerving. "Yeah. I seem to recall reading Quidditch Through the Ages, at least."

"But you've never seen a game?" James pressed.

I grimaced. "Not that I remember."

"James plays Chaser for Gryffindor," said Sirius proudly. "Ruddy awesome at it, too."

"If we get into Hogwarts, I'll be sure to watch the matches," I said, nodding politely. Thank God for Molly and Remus' unspoken lessons.

Sirius waved his hand. "I already told you, with Dumbledore backing you, you're in."

We finished the lasagna shortly afterward, and the boys gathered on the couches. Scorpius was fired up about the Quidditch discussions. He may not recall ever seeing a match, but his subconscious seemed honed on the subject. I sighed and cradled my head in my hands. I had long ago tuned out the conversation.

Remus smirked at me, and I realized that he had been silent much of the conversation as well. He sat down beside me. Scorpius, Sirius, and James looked like they were having the time of their lives.

"Bored?" he asked.

I nodded.

"Unfortunately, this will probably be the extent of the conversation," he sighed and sat back. "It's either this or coming up with new pranks."

"Pranks?"

"We have been blessed with the title of the 'Marauders' at school," Remus said. "I tend not to participate – most of the time they're rather amusing. I keep these two from getting thrown out, and Peter from getting hurt."

I wasn't sure how I felt about that. "Who's Peter?"

"The fourth Marauder," Remus clarified. "He's a bit slow on the uptake sometimes. Very funny guy, but none too bright. I don't know whether he means to melt cauldrons or blow spells or not, but he does nonetheless."

Great. So of the four people who I might hang about with at Hogwarts, only one actually had a brain. I scowled.

"You can go home if you like," Remus said quietly. "I'll walk you."

Scorpius didn't even look up. Remus and I walked very slowly to my flat.

"Don't worry about it," I said when he didn't say anything for the first twenty paces or so. "It's not your fault."

"I know," Remus smiled. "I just would have liked... oh, well."

"I'm free to decline future invites with the Marauders?" I asked dryly.

"Quite." He sighed as we reached the landing outside my flat. "They won't be here all the time."

I nodded. "I know. And stop worrying."

He chuckled. After a heartbeat or two, he gestured toward the stairs. "I better get back. Before they think we've gone missing."

"They didn't notice us leaving, I doubt they'll notice you getting back. See you later, Remus."

"See you, Hecate."

We turned away from one another, and I slid the key into the lock. Molly's wards came down. I locked the door behind me and went to my room. I piled laundry into the Muggle washer and read until Molly came home.

"What are you doing back?" she asked. "I thought for sure you two would be over there until supper."

"I didn't really want to talk about a game I've never seen," I said. "Remus walked me home."

"I'm glad he did. Scorpius still over there?"

I nodded. I didn't know how to feel. Should I be upset that Scorpius and Remus were with people whom I didn't like? Did I even have a reason not to like them in the first place? Was I in the right?

Was I wrong?

Molly must have seen the battle going on because she smiled.

"It's okay for you to have separate friends, Hecate."

"But now I'm alone," I muttered.

"That's never stopped you from having things to do, now has it? Scorpius doesn't like to read and quiz all the time like you do, now does he?"

Feeling quite like a child who was still learning her "pleases" and "thank yous", I smiled up at my surrogate mother. "No. I'm going to go and read, then, unless you'd like some help in the kitchen?"

"Go on and read, dear, supper's not for a while."

I gathered my copy of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 and began to read on the sofa. Molly spread the Daily Prophet out beside me. We read for half an hour in companionable silence.

I had just passed chapter twenty-seven (basic Warming Charms) for the third time when a tapping came at the window. Instead of an owl, however, a great red Phoenix fluttered just outside our very Muggle window. Alarmed, I raced to let it in.

"Don't worry, don't worry," Molly said, chuckling. "Muggles can't see him."

"Him?" I asked as the bird flew in. He landed on the back of the couch, so gently that his claws didn't even seep into the cushions. He was roughly the size of a swan, with beautiful red, gold, and blue plumage. "Do you know him?"

"His name is Fawkes," Molly said. "He is Headmaster Dumbledore's phoenix."