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Dumbledore pushed it open. Sirius was standing there, looking as if he had just cried. His face was white and gaunt as it had been when he had escaped Azkaban. In one swift moment, he had crossed the room and took Blair into a hug. "Little B. I'm so sorry."

Blair smiled weakly and Sirius turned to Harry. "Harry, are you all right? I knew it — I knew something like this — what happened?"

Sirius' hands shook as he helped Blair into a chair in front of the desk. "What happened?" he asked more urgently.

Dumbledore began to tell Sirius everything Barty Crouch had said. Blair was only half listening. So tired, every bone in her body was aching, she wanted nothing more than to sit here, undisturbed, for hours and hours, until she fell asleep and didn't have to think or feel anymore.

There was a soft rush of wings. Fawkes the phoenix had left his perch, flown across the office, and landed on Blair's knee. "'Lo, Fawkes," said Blair quietly. Beside her, Harry stroked the phoenix's beautiful scarlet-and-gold plumage. Fawkes blinked peacefully up at them. For the first time that night, Blair felt comfort and warmth.

Dumbledore stopped talking. He sat down opposite Harry and Blair, behind his desk. He was looking at Harry, who avoided his eyes then at Blair, who simply looked down. Dumbledore was going to question them. He was going to make them relive everything.

"I need to know what happened after you touched the Portkey in the maze, Harry, Blair," said Dumbledore.

"We can leave that till morning, can't we, Dumbledore?" said Sirius harshly. He had put a hand on Blair and Harry's shoulders. "Let them have a sleep. Let them rest."

Blair smiled up weakly at Sirius, but Dumbledore simply leaned forward towards them. Blair slowly turned her head and looked into Dumbledore's blue eyes.

"If I thought I could help you," Dumbledore said gently, "by putting you into an enchanted sleep and allowing you to postpone the moment when you would have to think about what has happened tonight, I would do it. But I know better.

"Numbing the pain for a while will make it worse when you finally feel it. You have shown bravery beyond anything I could have expected of you. I ask you to demonstrate your courage one more time, Harry, Blair. I ask you to tell us what happened."

The phoenix let out one soft, quavering note. It shivered in the air, and Blair suddenly felt warmth through her body. She looked at Harry and nodded. Blair and Harry took deep breaths and began to tell them everything. As Blair spoke, she remembered everything so vividly. She saw the sparkling surface of the potion that had revived Voldemort; she saw the Death Eaters Apparating between the graves around them; she saw her parents' bodies, lying on the ground.

Once or twice, Sirius made a noise as though about to say something, his hand still tight on Harry and Blair's shoulders, but Dumbledore raised his hand to stop him, and Blair was glad of this, because it was easier to keep going now she had started.

It was even a relief; she felt almost as though something poisonous were being extracted from her. It was costing her every bit of determination she had to keep talking, yet she sensed that once she had finished, she would feel better. 

When Harry told of Wormtail piercing his and Blair's arm with the dagger, however, Sirius let out a vehement exclamation and Dumbledore stood up so quickly that Blair got startled. Dumbledore walked around the desk and told Harry and Blair to stretch out their arms. Harry and Blair showed them their cuts. Sirius winced when he saw Blair's looking so severe.

"He said my blood would make him stronger than if he'd used someone else's," Harry told Dumbledore. "He said the protection my — my mother left in me — he'd have it too. And he was right — he could touch me without hurting himself, he touched my face."

"And he said he wanted ichor, my blood. He said he had remembered me from when Harry and I faced him during our first year. H-He said my blood would make him invincible." Blair said before she looked down. "I-I'm sorry, Professor. I shouldn't have let him taken my blood. I should have done something before it could happen."

Harry wrapped an arm around her comfortingly, and she felt Sirius squeezing her hand. Blair looked into Dumbledore's blue eyes and saw sadness and was there a hint of guilt and triumph?

Dumbledore shook his head. "It wasn't your fault, Blair. It wasn't any of your faults. Please continue." Blair and Harry went on. They explained how Voldemort had emerged from the cauldron, and told them all they could remember of Voldemort's speech to the Death Eaters.

Blair closed her eyes as she told the story about her parents. She felt Harry and Sirius's grips on her tightened when she told them about how she pleaded to Voldemort and how Voldemort made her choose only to one to save. Everyone in the room looked at her sadly. A tear fell out of Blair's eye when she told them how she chose to save Olivia, but Voldemort killed her first before killing Blake. Then, she told them about how Voldemort cast a spell on her that made her feel the most painful thing in her life.

This seemed to make Dumbledore's eyes widen with fear. "Was it the Cruciatus curse?"

Blair shook her head. "I can't remember what it is, but it was something long." Dumbledore simply nodded as Harry had his turn and told the story.

When he reached the part where the golden beam of light had connected his, Blair's and Voldemort's wands, Harry suddenly stopped talking and clenched his fists. Blair reached over and unclenched his fist and held his hand. She was feeling the same as him. She remembered the ghosts of her mother and father, the old man, Bertha Jorkins and Harry's parents.

Finally, Sirius broke the silence. "The wands connected?" he said, looking from Harry to Blair to Dumbledore. "Why?"

Blair looked up at Dumbledore again, on whose face there was an arrested look. "Priori Incantatem," he muttered. His eyes gazed into Harry's then Blair's and it was almost as though an invisible beam of understanding shot between them.

"The Reverse Spell effect?" said Sirius sharply.

"Exactly," said Dumbledore. "Harry's wand, Blair's wand and Voldemort's wand share cores. Each of them contains a feather from the tail of the same phoenix. This phoenix, in fact," he added, and he pointed at the scarlet-and-gold bird, perching peacefully on Blair's knee.

"Our wand's feathers came from Fawkes?" Blair said, amazed.

"Yes," said Dumbledore. "Mr. Ollivander wrote to tell me you two had bought the second and third wands, the moment you left his shop four years ago. I didn't think much of yours at first, Blair, but now it makes me think."

"So what happens when a wand meets its brother and sister?" said Sirius.

"They will not work properly against each other," said Dumbledore. "If, however, the owners of the wands force the wands to do battle... a very rare effect will take place. One of the wands will force the other to regurgitate spells it has performed — in reverse. The most recent first... and then those which preceded it..." He looked interrogatively at Harry and Blair, and they nodded.

"Which means," said Dumbledore slowly, his eyes upon Blair's face, "that some form of Blake and Olivia must have reappeared." Blair nodded again.

"Blake and Olivia came back to life?" said Sirius sharply.

"No spell can reawaken the dead," said Dumbledore heavily. "All that would have happened is a kind of reverse echo. A shadow of the living Blake and Olivia would have emerged from the wand... am I correct, Blair, Harry?"

"ˇThey spoke to us," Harry said.

Beside him, Blair clenched her fists to prevent her hands from shaking. "The... the ghosts spoke."

"An echo," said Dumbledore, "which retained Blake and Olivia's appearance and character. I am guessing other such forms appeared... less recent victims of Voldemort's wand..."

"An old man," Blair said, her throat still constricted. "Bertha Jorkins. And..."

"Your parents, Harry?" said Dumbledore quietly.

"Yes," said Harry.

Sirius's grip on Harry's shoulder and Blair's hand was now so tight it was painful.

"The last murders the wand performed," said Dumbledore, nodding. "In reverse order. More would have appeared, of course, had you maintained the connection. Very well, Harry, Blair, these echoes, these shadows... what did they do?"

Blair described how the figures that had emerged from the wand had prowled the edges of the golden web, how Voldemort had seemed to fear them, how the shadow of Harry's father had told them what to do, how Blake and Olivia had said their final goodbyes. At this point, Blair found she could not continue.

She looked around and saw that Sirius had his face in his hands, and Harry was shaking like her and squeezed her hand for comfort. She didn't know if it was for her or for himself, but she gladly squeezed back. Then, she noticed that Fawkes had left her knee. The phoenix had fluttered to the floor. It was resting its beautiful head against Blair's injured leg, and thick, pearly tears were falling from its eyes onto the wound left by the spider. The pain vanished. The skin mended. Her leg was repaired.

"I will say it again," said Dumbledore as the phoenix rose into the air and resettled itself upon the perch beside the door. "You have shown bravery beyond anything I could have expected of you tonight, Harry, Blair. You have shown bravery equal to those who died fighting Voldemort at the height of his powers.

"You have shouldered a grown wizard's burden and found yourself equal to it — and you have now given us all that we have a right to expect. You two will come with me to the hospital wing. I do not want you returning to the dormitory tonight. A Sleeping Potion, and some peace... Sirius, would you like to stay with them?"

Sirius nodded and stood up. He transformed back into the great black dog.

"Oh, but Blair, could I have a word alone? Please wait for us outside, Harry, Sirius."

Harry and Sirius sent Blair comforting smiles, and she smiled back weakly as they left. She turned to face Dumbledore who looked at her with sadness. "I am sorry, Blair. For what happened tonight and what you have gone through. I know how you are feeling, Blair."

Blair took a deep breath and hugged herself for warmth. "Do you, Professor? Have you lost someone before?"

Blair looked surprised to see tears come into Dumbledore's eyes. "Yes. Yes I have."

Blair felt her own tears well up and reached over and patted Dumbledore's hand with her own. "How did you deal with it, Professor? With the loss and the pain."

"Until now, I feel guilt and remorse. It was all my fault in the first place." Dumbledore said sadly.

Blair frowned and shook her head. "Don't say that, Professor. It is not your fault, and it will never be. Whoever you lost, I know he or she would not be happy to see you like this. They would want you to forgive yourself and be happy."

Dumbledore smiled at her gratefully. "Thank you, Blair. You're too kind, you know."

Blair chuckled lowly. "I don't think so, Professor. I-I wished it was me instead. Maybe, it would have been better. Or maybe, if I had died before Voldemort had gotten his body back-"

Dumbledore squeezed her hand lightly. "Oh, Blair. Do not say that. Your parents died for you, who they love so much, and if it were you who had died, they would be feeling the same pain you are feeling right now. Pain is a part of life and love, Blair. There will be that part in your heart that will always feel empty, but little by little, we let go of loss, but never of love."

He moved to wrap an arm around Blair, who managed a weak smile as she wiped a tear away. The weight on her chest had felt considerably lighter after her talk with Dumbledore. It was still there, but she was grateful nonetheless.

"Thank you, Professor."

"Let us go then."

Blair and Dumbledore walked out to meet with Sirius and Harry, quietly walking down the flight of stairs to the hospital wing. When Dumbledore pushed open the door, Blair saw Oliver, Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Ron, and Hermione grouped around a harassed looking Madam Pomfrey. They appeared to be demanding to know where Blair and Harry were and what had happened to them.

All of them whipped around as Blair, Harry, Dumbledore, and the black dog entered, and Mrs. Weasley let out a kind of muffled scream. "Harry! Oh Blair!" But Blair had her eyes on Oliver, who smiled weakly. She saw the dried tear tracks on his face and looked down, hiding the guilt in her eyes. She was the reason why he had cried. She was the reason why they were now... orphans.

Mrs. Weasley started to hurry toward them, but Dumbledore moved between them. "Molly," he said, holding up a hand, "please listen to me for a moment. Blair and Harry have been through a terrible ordeal tonight. They just just had to relive it for me. What they need now is sleep, and peace, and quiet.

"If they would like you all to stay with them," he added, looking around at Oliver, Ron, Hermione, and Bill too, "you may do so. But I do not want you questioning them until they are ready to answer, and certainly not this evening."

Mrs. Weasley nodded. She was very white. She rounded on Oliver, Ron, Hermione, and Bill as though they were being noisy, and hissed, "Did you hear? They need quiet!"

"Headmaster," said Madam Pomfrey, staring at the great black dog that was Sirius, "may I ask what — ?"

"This dog will be remaining with Harry and Blair for a while," said Dumbledore simply. "I assure you, he is extremely well trained. Blair, Harry — I will wait while you get into bed."

Blair felt an inexpressible sense of gratitude to Dumbledore for asking the others not to question her. It wasn't as though she didn't want them there; but the thought of explaining it all over again, the idea of reliving it one more time, was more than she could stand.

"I will be back to see you as soon as I have met with Fudge, Harry, Blair," said Dumbledore. "I would like you to remain here tomorrow until I have spoken to the school." He left.

As Madam Pomfrey led Blair to a nearby bed, she caught sight of the real Moody lying motionless in a bed at the far end of the room. His wooden leg and magical eye were lying on the bedside table. Blair let out a shaky breath. Another person close to her was hurt, and Blair couldn't do anything to help. She should have known.

"Is he okay?" Harry asked.

"He'll be fine," said Madam Pomfrey, giving Blair some pajamas and pulling screens around her.

Blair took off her robes and gasped when she looked down at her chest. She hurriedly put on her pajamas. "M-Madam Pomfrey!"

The screens opened, and Madam Pomfrey let out a gasp of horror as Blair pulled down her shirt a little. "W-What is this, Blair?"

"Are you all-" Mrs. Weasley came in, but her voice died down. Her hands flew to her mouth at the sight of Blair's chest. There was a huge lightning bolt scar, just like Harry's but bigger, below her right collarbone.

Blair shook her head and whispered. "Please don't say a word yet. I'll talk about it when Professor Dumbledore's here." The two older women shared horrified glances before nodding and leaving Blair.

Then, Blair pulled away the screens and got into the bed beside Harry's. Oliver, Ron, Hermione, Bill, Mrs. Weasley, and the black dog came around the screen and settled themselves in chairs on either side of him. Blair avoided their gazes as she saw the look in their eyes. Pity and sadness.

She thought she had enough of those for the day, but she didn't dare meet Oliver's gaze. She had just robbed him of their parents. She didn't want to see the look in his eyes or him trying to be strong when the truth was none of them were fine.

"I'm all right," Harry told them. "Just tired."

Blair spoke up quietly. "Me too."

Mrs. Weasley's eyes filled with tears as she smoothed their bedcovers.

Madam Pomfrey, who had bustled off to her office, returned holding 2 small bottles of some purple potion and 2 goblets. "You'll need to drink all of this, Harry, Blair," she said. "It's a potion for dreamless sleep."

Blair eagerly took the goblet and drank a few mouthfuls. She felt herself becoming drowsy at once. Everything around her became hazy. Before she could finish the potion, before she could say another word, her exhaustion had carried her off to sleep and she caught sight of Harry closing his eyes, just as tired as she was.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Blair woke up, so warm, so very sleepy that she didn't open her eyes, but then she heard whispering around her.

"They'll wake them if they don't shut up!"

"What are they shouting about? Nothing else can have happened, can it?"

Blair opened her eyes and look to her side to see that Harry was looking at her with a confused gaze. Blair shrugged slightly and looked to see Mrs. Weasley and Bill close by.

Mrs. Weasley was on her feet. "That's Fudge's voice," she whispered. "And that's Minerva McGonagall's, isn't it? But what are they arguing about?"

Now Blair could hear them too: people shouting and running toward the hospital wing.

"Regrettable, but all the same, Minerva —" Cornelius Fudge was saying loudly.

"You should never have brought it inside the castle!" yelled Professor McGonagall. "When Dumbledore finds out —" Blair heard the hospital doors burst open.

Unnoticed by any of the people around their beds, all of whom were staring at the door as Bill pulled back the screens, Blair sat up.

Fudge came striding up the ward. Professors McGonagall and Snape were at his heels. "Where's Dumbledore?" Fudge demanded of Mrs. Weasley.

"He's not here," said Mrs. Weasley angrily. "This is a hospital wing, Minister, don't you think you'd do better to —"

But the door opened, and Dumbledore came sweeping up the ward. "What has happened?" said Dumbledore sharply, looking from Fudge to Professor McGonagall. "Why are you disturbing these people? Minerva, I'm surprised at you — I asked you to stand guard over Barty Crouch —"

"There is no need to stand guard over him anymore, Dumbledore!" she shrieked. "The Minister has seen to that!"

Blair looked surprised. Professor McGonagall had yelled at her before, but this time, it was different. There were angry blotches of color in her cheeks, and her hands were balled into fists; she was trembling with fury.

"When we told Mr. Fudge that we had caught the Death Eater responsible for tonight's events," said Snape, in a low voice, "he seemed to feel his personal safety was in question. He insisted on summoning a dementor to accompany him into the castle. He brought it up to the office where Barty Crouch —"

"I told him you would not agree, Dumbledore!" Professor McGonagall fumed. "I told him you would never allow dementors to set foot inside the castle, but —"

"My dear woman!" roared Fudge, who likewise looked angrier than Blair had ever seen him, "as Minister of Magic, it is my decision whether I wish to bring protection with me when interviewing a possibly dangerous —"

But Professor McGonagall's voice drowned Fudge's. "The moment that — that thing entered the room," she screamed, pointing at Fudge, trembling all over, "it swooped down on Crouch and — and —"

Blair didn't need Professor McGonagall to finish the sentence. She knew what the dementors must have done. Only a shell of Barty Crouch Jr.'s past self remained.

"By all accounts, he is no loss!" blustered Fudge. "It seems he has been responsible for several deaths!"

"But he cannot now give testimony, Cornelius," said Dumbledore. He was staring hard at Fudge, as though seeing him plainly for the first time. "He cannot give evidence about why he killed those people."

"Why he killed them? Well, that's no mystery, is it?" blustered Fudge. "He was a raving lunatic! From what Minerva and Severus have told me, he seems to have thought he was doing it all on You-Know-Who's instructions!"

"Lord Voldemort was giving him instructions, Cornelius," Dumbledore said. "Those people's deaths were mere by-products of a plan to restore Voldemort to full strength again. The plan succeeded. Voldemort has been restored to his body."

Fudge looked as though someone had just swung a heavy weight into his face. Dazed and blinking, he stared back at Dumbledore as if he couldn't quite believe what he had just heard. He began to sputter, still goggling at Dumbledore. "You-Know-Who... returned? Preposterous. Come now, Dumbledore..."

"As Minerva and Severus have doubtlessly told you," said Dumbledore, "we heard Barry Crouch confess. Under the influence of Veritaserum, he told us how he was smuggled out of Azkaban, and how Voldemort — learning of his continued existence from Bertha Jorkins — went to free him from his father and used him to capture Harry and Blair. The plan worked, I tell you. Crouch has helped Voldemort to return."

"See here, Dumbledore," said Fudge, and Blair was astonished to see a slight smile dawning on his face, "you — you can't seriously believe that. You-Know-Who — back? Come now, come now... certainly, Crouch may have believed himself to be acting upon You-Know-Who's orders — but to take the word of a lunatic like that, Dumbledore..."

"When Harry and Blair touched the Triwizard Cup tonight, they were transported straight to Voldemort," said Dumbledore steadily. "They witnessed Lord Voldemort's rebirth. I will explain it all to you if you will step up to my office."

Dumbledore glanced around at Harry and Blair and saw that they were awake, but shook his head and said, "I am afraid I cannot permit you to question Harry and Blair tonight."

Fudge's curious smile lingered. He too glanced at Harry and Blair, then looked back at Dumbledore, and said, "You are — er — prepared to take Harry and Blair's word on this, are you, Dumbledore?" There was a moment's silence, which was broken by Sirius growling. His hackles were raised, and he was baring his teeth at Fudge.

"Certainly, I believe Harry and Blair," said Dumbledore. His eyes were blazing now. "I heard Crouch's confession, and I heard Harry and Blair's account of what happened after they touched the Triwizard Cup; the two stories make sense, they explain everything that has happened since Bertha Jorkins disappeared last summer."

Fudge still had that strange smile on his face. Once again, he glanced at Harry and Blair before answering. "You are prepared to believe that Lord Voldemort has returned, on the word of a lunatic murderer, and a boy and a girl who... well..." Fudge shot Harry and Blair another look, and Blair suddenly understood.

"You've been reading Rita Skeeter, Mr. Fudge," she said quietly. Oliver, Ron, Hermione, Mrs. Weasley, and Bill all jumped. None of them had realized that Blair and Harry were awake.

Fudge reddened slightly, but a defiant and obstinate look came over his face. "And if I have?" he said, looking at Dumbledore. "If I have discovered that you've been keeping certain facts about the boy and the girl very quiet? A Parselmouth, eh? And a girl who keeps on attacking innocent people. The boy! Having funny turns all over the place —"

"I assume that you are referring to the pains Harry has been experiencing in his scar?" said Dumbledore coolly.

"You admit that he has been having these pains, then?" said Fudge quickly. "Headaches? Nightmares? Possibly — hallucinations?"

"Listen to me, Cornelius," said Dumbledore, taking a step toward Fudge, and once again, he seemed to radiate that indefinable sense of power that Blair had felt after Dumbledore had Stunned young Crouch.

"Harry and Blair are as sane as you or I. That scar upon Harry's forehead has not addled his brains. I believe it hurts him when Lord Voldemort is close by, or feeling particularly murderous. And Blair did no such thing. She is not deadly nor is she damaged. She lost her parents tonight, Cornelius."

Blair looked down and clenched her fists. She could feel Oliver's stare, but she did not have the courage to meet his eyes.

Fudge had taken half a step back from Dumbledore, but he looked no less stubborn. "You'll forgive me, Dumbledore, but I've never heard of a curse scar acting as an alarm bell before... and the girl's parents. Their deaths were tragic accidents."

Blair's head snapped and she glared at Fudge. "Look, we saw Voldemort come back!" Harry shouted. He tried to get out of bed, but Mrs. Weasley forced him back. "I saw the Death Eaters! I can give you their names! Lucius Malfoy —"

Snape made a sudden movement, but as Blair looked at him, Snape's eyes flew back to Fudge.

"Malfoy was cleared!" said Fudge, visibly affronted. "A very old family — donations to excellent causes —"

"Macnair!" Blair continued.

"Also cleared! Now working for the Ministry!"

"Avery — Nott — Crabbe — Goyle —"

"You are merely repeating the names of those who were acquitted of being Death Eaters thirteen years ago!" said Fudge angrily. "You could have found those names in old reports of the trials! For heaven's sake, Dumbledore — the boy and girl were full of some crackpot story at the end of last year too — their tales are getting taller, and you're still swallowing them — the boy can talk to snakes, Dumbledore, and you still think they're trustworthy?"

"You fool!" Professor McGonagall cried. "Blake and Olivia Wood! Mr. Crouch! These deaths were not the random work of a lunatic!"

"I see no evidence to the contrary!" shouted Fudge, now matching her anger, his face purpling. "It seems to me that you are all determined to start a panic that will destabilize everything we have worked for these last thirteen years!"

Blair felt her anger rise. "YOU GIT! WHAT IN BLOODY HELL ARE YOU THINKING? YOU THINK MY PARENTS SUDDENLY DROPPED DEAD? THEY WERE SUPPOSED TO BE HERE AT HOGWARTS, BUT FOR YOU AND YOUR DAMNED MINISTRY, THEY LEFT, NOT KNOWING IT WAS THE DEATH EATERS' PLOY ALL ALONG! HOW COULD YOU POSSIBLY THINK OF YOUR MINISTRY AT THIS TIME?" Blair was panting as she finished. All heads turned to her, surprised.

Fudge's face turned red in anger, and he was about to say something when Dumbledore spoke. "Voldemort has returned."

Blair slumped back in her bed and held her head in her hands as Dumbledore continued. "If you accept that fact straightaway, Fudge, and take the necessary measures, we may still be able to save the situation. The first and most essential step is to remove Azkaban from the control of the dementors —"

"Preposterous!" shouted Fudge again. "Remove the dementors? I'd be kicked out of office for suggesting it! Half of us only feel safe in our beds at night because we know the dementors are standing guard at Azkaban!"

"The rest of us sleep less soundly in our beds, Cornelius, knowing that you have put Lord Voldemort's most dangerous supporters in the care of creatures who will join him the instant he asks them!" said Dumbledore. "They will not remain loyal to you, Fudge! Voldemort can offer them much more scope for their powers and their pleasures than you can! With the dementors behind him, and his old supporters returned to him, you will be hard pressed to stop him regaining the sort of power he had thirteen years ago!"

Fudge was opening and closing his mouth as though no words could express his outrage.

"The second step you must take — and at once," Dumbledore pressed on, "is to send envoys to the giants."

"Envoys to the giants?" Fudge shrieked, finding his tongue again. "What madness is this?"

"Extend them the hand of friendship, now, before it is too late," said Dumbledore, "or Voldemort will persuade them, as he did before, that he alone among wizards will give them their rights and their freedom!"

"You — you cannot be serious!" Fudge gasped, shaking his head and retreating further from Dumbledore. "If the magical community got wind that I had approached the giants — people hate them, Dumbledore — end of my career —"

"Blair is right. You are blinded," said Dumbledore, his voice rising now, the aura of power around him palpable, his eyes blazing once more, "by the love of the office you hold, Cornelius! You place too much importance, and you always have done, on the so-called purity of blood! You fail to recognize that it matters not what someone is born, but what they grow to be! Your dementor has just destroyed the last remaining member of a pure-blood family as old as any — and see what that man chose to make of his life!

"I tell you now — take the steps I have suggested, and you will be remembered, in office or out, as one of the bravest and greatest Ministers of Magic we have ever known. Fail to act — and history will remember you as the man who stepped aside and allowed Voldemort a second chance to destroy the world we have tried to rebuild!"

"Insane," whispered Fudge, still backing away. "Mad..."

And then there was silence. Madam Pomfrey was standing frozen at the foot of Harry's bed, her hands over her mouth. Mrs. Weasley was still standing over Harry, her hand on his shoulder to prevent him from rising while Oliver, Bill, Ron, and Hermione were holding Blair down to keep her in bed and from lunging at Fudge. Hermione had her hand over Blair's mouth to keep her from saying some things she might regret.

"If your determination to shut your eyes will carry you as far as this, Cornelius," said Dumbledore, "we have reached a parting of the ways. You must act as you see fit. And I — I shall act as I see fit." Dumbledore's voice carried no hint of a threat; it sounded like a mere statement, but Fudge bristled as though Dumbledore were advancing upon him with a wand.

"Now, see here, Dumbledore," he said, waving a threatening finger. "I've given you free rein, always. I've had a lot of respect for you. I might not have agreed with some of your decisions, but I've kept quiet. There aren't many who'd have let you hire werewolves, or keep Hagrid, or decide what to teach your students without reference to the Ministry. But if you're going to work against me —"

"The only one against whom I intend to work," said Dumbledore, "is Lord Voldemort. If you are against him, then we remain, Cornelius, on the same side."

It seemed Fudge could think of no answer to this. He rocked backward and forward on his small feet for a moment and spun his bowler hat in his hands. Finally, he said, with a hint of a plea in his voice, "He can't be back, Dumbledore, he just can't be..."

Snape strode forward, past Dumbledore, pulling up the left sleeve of his robes as he went. He stuck out his forearm and showed it to Fudge, who recoiled.

"There," said Snape harshly. "There. The Dark Mark. It is not as clear as it was an hour or so ago, when it burned black, but you can still see it. Every Death Eater had the sign burned into him by the Dark Lord. It was a means of distinguishing one another, and his means of summoning us to him.

"When he touched the Mark of any Death Eater, we were to Disapparate, and Apparate, instantly, at his side. This Mark has been growing clearer all year. Karkaroff's too. Why do you think Karkaroff fled tonight? We both felt the Mark burn. We both knew he had returned. Karkaroff fears the Dark Lord's vengeance. He betrayed too many of his fellow Death Eaters to be sure of a welcome back into the fold."

Fudge stepped back from Snape too. He was shaking his head. He did not seem to have taken in a word Snape had said. He stared, apparently repelled by the ugly mark on Snape's arm, then looked up at Dumbledore and whispered, "I don't know what you and your staff are playing at, Dumbledore, but I have heard enough. I have no more to add. I will be in touch with you tomorrow, Dumbledore, to discuss the running of this school. I must return to the Ministry."

He had almost reached the door when he paused. He turned around, strode back down the dormitory, and stopped in between Blair and Harry's beds. "Your winnings," he said shortly, taking a large bag of gold out of his pocket and dropping it onto the bedside table between Blair and Harry. "One thousand Galleons. There should have been a presentation ceremony, but under the circumstances..."

Fudge crammed his bowler hat onto his head and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him. The moment he had disappeared, Dumbledore turned to look at the group around Harry and Blair's beds. "There is work to be done," he said. "Molly... am I right in thinking that I can count on you and Arthur?"

"Of course you can," said Mrs. Weasley. She was white to the lips, but she looked resolute. "We know what Fudge is. It's Arthur's fondness for Muggles that has held him back at the Ministry all these years. Fudge thinks he lacks proper wizarding pride."

"Then I need to send a message to Arthur," said Dumbledore. "All those that we can persuade of the truth must be notified immediately, and he is well placed to contact those at the Ministry who are not as shortsighted as Cornelius."

"I'll go to Dad," said Bill, standing up. "I'll go now."

"Excellent," said Dumbledore. "Tell him what has happened. Tell him I will be in direct contact with him shortly. He will need to be discreet, however. If Fudge thinks I am interfering at the Ministry —"

"Leave it to me," said Bill. He clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder, squeezed Blair's hand, kissed his mother on the cheek, pulled on his cloak, and strode quickly from the room.

"Minerva," said Dumbledore, turning to Professor McGonagall, "I want to see Hagrid in my office as soon as possible. Also — if she will consent to come — Madame Maxime."

Professor McGonagall nodded and left without a word.

"Poppy," Dumbledore said to Madam Pomfrey, "would you be very kind and go down to Professor Moody's office, where I think you will find a house-elf called Winky in considerable distress? Do what you can for her, and take her back to the kitchens. I think Dobby will look after her for us."

"Very — very well," said Madam Pomfrey, looking startled, and she too left, but not before sending a glance at Blair, reminding her to tell Dumbledore of the scar. Blair simply nodded at her.

Dumbledore made sure that the door was closed, and that Madam Pomfrey's footsteps had died away, before he spoke again. "And now," he said, "it is time for two of our number to recognize each other for what they are. Sirius... if you could resume your usual form."

The great black dog looked up at Dumbledore, then, in an instant, turned back into a man. Mrs. Weasley screamed and leapt back from the bed. "Sirius Black!" she shrieked, pointing at him.

"Mum, shut up!" Ron yelled. "It's okay!"

Snape had not yelled or jumped backward, but the look on his face was one of mingled fury and horror. "Him!" he snarled, staring at Sirius, whose face showed equal dislike. "What is he doing here?"

"He is here at my invitation," said Dumbledore, looking between them, "as are you, Severus. I trust you both. It is time for you to lay aside your old differences and trust each other." Blair wasn't surprised when Sirius and Snape were eyeing each other with the utmost loathing.

"I will settle, in the short term," said Dumbledore, with a bite of impatience in his voice, "for a lack of open hostility. You will shake hands. You are on the same side now. Time is short, and unless the few of us who know the truth do not stand united, there is no hope for any of us."

Very slowly — but still glaring at each other as though each wished the other nothing but ill — Sirius and Snape moved toward each other and shook hands. They let go extremely quickly.

"That will do to be going on with," said Dumbledore, stepping between them once more. "Now I have work for each of you. Fudge's attitude, though not unexpected, changes everything. Sirius, I need you to set off at once. You are to alert Remus Lupin, Arabella Figg, Mundungus Fletcher — the old crowd. Lie low at Lupin's for a while; I will contact you there."

"But —" said Harry. Blair felt the same. She wanted Sirius to stay. She did not want to have to say goodbye again so quickly. It felt as if everything and everyone was leaving her so quickly.

"Can't he stay, Professor?" Blair asked meekly.

"You'll see me very soon, Harry, Little Caelum," said Sirius, turning to them with soft eyes. "I promise you. But I must do what I can, you understand, don't you?"

"Yeah," said Harry. "Yeah... of course we do." Blair just nodded.

Sirius grasped their hands briefly, nodded to Dumbledore, transformed again into the black dog, and ran the length of the room to the door, whose handle he turned with a paw. Then he was gone.

"Severus," said Dumbledore, turning to Snape, "you know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready... if you are prepared..."

"I am," said Snape. He looked slightly paler than usual, and his cold, black eyes glittered strangely.

"Then good luck," said Dumbledore, and he watched, with a trace of apprehension on his face, as Snape swept wordlessly after Sirius.

It was several minutes before Dumbledore spoke again. "I must go downstairs. Harry, Blair – take the rest of your potions, I will see all of you later."

Blair suddenly sat up. "Professor, I have something to tell you. In private, well with Harry."

Dumbledore, Hermione, Ron, Mrs. Weasley, Oliver and Harry looked at her before Dumbledore nodded. "Please leave us for a few moments."

Oliver, Hermione, Ron and Mrs. Weasley left. Harry and Dumbledore looked at Blair.

"What is it Blair?" Dumbledore said gently.

Blair hesitated before she unbuttoned the top button of her top and showed them the scar. She heard Harry gasp and she looked at Dumbledore to see a grave look in his usually twinkling eyes. "I-I think I got it from when he hit me with the spell, Professor. If only I could remember what it was."

It was silent for a while before Dumbledore spoke. "I will think about this, Blair, but for now, you and Harry should rest. Good night."

"Good night, sir." Blair and Harry simultaneously said.

As Dumbledore walked away, Blair looked at Harry. "Well, if you're scarhead, am I scarchest?" It was silent for a few moments before the two of them finally burst into laughter for the first time that whole night.

Then, Oliver, Ron, Hermione and Mrs. Weasley came in. Harry and Blair slumped back against their pillows. Hermione, Ron, Oliver and Mrs. Weasley were looking at them. Oliver was staring at Blair, who still didn't meet his eyes.

None of them spoke for a very long time. "You've got to take the rest of your potion, Harry, Blair," Mrs. Weasley said at last. Her hand nudged the sack of gold on the bedside between them as she reached for the bottles and the goblets with Hermione helping her. "You have a good long sleep. Try and think about something else for a while... think about what you're going to buy with your winnings!"

"I don't want that gold," said Blair in an expressionless voice. "You have it. Harry can have it. Anyone can have it. I shouldn't have won it."

'It reminds me of how they died.' Blair thought. As she felt the prickle of tears in her eyes, she looked up at the ceiling and blinked.

"It wasn't your fault, Blair," Oliver whispered.

"It's my fault, Blair. I should have taken the cup alone," said Harry.

Blair felt a burning in her throat as she said hoarsely. "It wasn't yours, James. Just-just forget it." Blair wished that Hermione would look away. She wished all of them would look away. She hated looking weak, especially in front of the person she loved. She just wanted to sleep everything away. There was silence once more.

Mrs. Weasley set the potions down on the bedside cabinet, bent down, and put her arms around Harry and Blair in a motherly manner.

Blair felt a tear run down her face. It just made her miss her mother more. Everything came rushing back to her. Her mother and father's cries, their bodies, dead on the ground, and Harry's parents who died so young. There was a loud slamming noise, and Mrs. Weasley pulled away from Harry and Blair.

Hermione was standing by the window. She was holding something tight in her hand. "Sorry," she whispered.

"Your potions, Harry, Blair," said Mrs. Weasley quickly, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand.

Blair drank it in one gulp. The effect was instantaneous. Heavy, irresistible waves of dreamless sleep broke over her; she fell back onto her pillows and thought no more.

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