"They say losing love is like a window in your heart

Everybody sees you’re blown apart.

Everybody feels the wind blow." --Paul Simon ‘Graceland’

Minerva got up and walked to the window. The darkness outside was too alive—trouble was about. She saw something move toward the Forest, a sort of injured running thing. Was it a Centaur? It couldn’t be—they wouldn’t have ventured out of the woods in the first place. Minerva took her cloak from the chair and pushed her way out of the office.

The halls were empty and quiet, and she wondered what time it was. How long had she fitfully rested in that chair, having nightmares about the boy who had died last week and the whereabouts of Remus? She wished Hermione could owl her from Argentine, but it was too dangerous.

" Minerva," came the dark voice of Serveus Snape. He was standing in the lobby, a cloak wrapped around his shoulders, " Some of the children are moving about in the Gryffindor wing," he told her, " I think you should see about them."

" Won’t you check for me, Serveus?" Minerva asked, putting on her own cloak. It was freezing in the lobby—the whole castle had grown chilly, though it was mid-Spring.

" Its not my responsibility," Serveus sneered. He’d been in a horrible mood since he’d found out for sure that James Potter was alive.

" Well then no one will check!" Minerva snapped, angry with his pettiness at a time like this. " Dumbledore has wandered off—who knows what trouble the old bloke could get into on his own. I’m going outside to have a peak—I think I saw someone enter the forest."

" Minny!" Snape warned, " Watch yourself. You’re more valuable to us than Albus is at this point."

" Nonsense," Minerva grumbled, walking off. The children trusted and loved Dumbledore, despite his dissipating sanity as of late. What would she do if the school was left in her hands? She’d sooner have Hermione Granger running Hogwarts—Minerva felt too emotional to even think straight. Just the prospect of James finally coming home was almost too much to bear.

She walked out the enormous castle doors and into the cool night. The darkness was still bright with eerie moonlight and secret activity. For a moment Minerva thought she saw a light in Hagrid’s hut, but it must have been her eyes playing tricks on her.

Get a hold of yourself, Minerva.

She started down the path toward the forest, her heart rate increasing. Clouds moved over the moon for a moment, and then drifted away again. Minerva looked up—a full moon. She thought of Remus, and hoped he was okay. She wished she could remember where he’d said he was going the last time she’d seen him. She should have paid more attention to him, now and in the past. If he turned up like the Dean Thomas boy…she would never forgive herself.

Minerva gasped when she got to the bottom of the hill and saw blood on the ground, glistening in the moonlight. It trailed off in two directions—one on the path to Harry’s hut, and the other toward the forest. Minerva followed the trail to the forest—noticing the dog-like tracks that were imprinted in blood. Her breath caught, and she thought of Remus. Could he have transformed? What had happened to him?

She walked cautiously into the forest, terrified at what might await her. Brandishing a wand that she’d hidden in her pocket, she remembered in a haze of regret that she’d never been one for Defense Against the Dark Arts. She was beginning to think she should have brought Serveus along for safety reasons—she was the one who was always telling the kids not to go anywhere alone until this had blown over.

Minerva scoffed to herself. Blown over? She was quite sure that the Netherworld would dwarf that cliché with whatever they had planned.

" Rrrggg!" she gasped as she heard the pained cry of an animal. An animal….but what was it…a werewolf?

" Oh, Remus!" McGonagall choked out. He was hurt—he could be dying. "Remus where are you?" she called, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to understand her in werewolf form.

Minerva’s heart was beating out of her chest now, the hoots of owls sounding all around her like evil taunting. She continued to follow the trail of blood with shaking footsteps, upset to see that it was increasing in quantity as she made her way deeper into the forest.

" Aghhh!" she heard another animalistic moan and brought her hands to her mouth in terror. She considered transfiguring herself into a cat to improve her night vision, but decided that she’d have less of a chance that way if the werewolf attacked. And anyway, the damned full moon was so brilliant in the night sky that she wasn’t having much trouble seeing her way through the woods. But she still couldn’t find Remus, though his anguished cries were growing louder.

Suddenly McGonagall’s foot cracked against a large tree root, sending her tumbling forward. She smacked hard into the ground and let out a yelp as her glasses shattered into pieces.

" Oh!" she sobbed, tears springing to her eyes. Now she’d never find him. She sat up, her hands sticky with the still-wet blood that she’d been following on the ground.

Suddenly she heard an odd rumbling noise, and whirled around, only to come face to face with the werewolf. It was poised for attack, but bleeding badly from the chest area. It snarled and bared its fangs at her, narrowing its gray eyes. Remus’s eyes! McGonagall could recognize them, even without her glasses.

" Remus!" she cried uselessly, " Its…me!" The wolf ignored her plea and made as if to charge. Minerva shrieked and covered her face, not wanting to use her wand to hurt Remus any further.

The wolf lunged at her, but then drew back, whimpering in pain. Minerva uncovered her eyes, and saw that the creature—Remus—was too weak from his injury to attack.

" Remus," she whispered, " What’s happened to you?" She started to reach for him, and he snarled and snapped his jaws at her. Minerva gasped and drew back quickly. The wolf growled at her, and ducked its head to lick its bloody wound.

" I have to get you back to the castle," Minerva said, beginning to panic, " You’ll bleed to death!" She took her cloak off, and went to wrap Remus’s wound with it. He growled at her, but she gave him a determined look.

" Now see here!" she said, " I know you’re in there somewhere, Remus. And its for your own good so hold still!" The wolf roared when she brought the cloak to it’s chest to try and stop the bleeding, and tried to bite her hand. But Minerva was quick—she knew what a bite from a werewolf meant. Still, she’d risk it for the sake of her friends’ life, knowing he’d do the same for her.

Remus was too weak to fight much, and Minerva managed to wrap his wound as best she could without her glasses. The dying wolf crumbled into her arms, and Minerva started sobbing, knowing that it wouldn’t be long now.

" Oh, Remus!" she cried, " How has it come to this?" she squeezed the bleeding creature to her, wishing that its rough, dark fur was the soft skin and thin brown hair of his human form. Her poor Remus—he didn’t deserve to die as a beast. But there was no way she could get him back to the castle like this—he was practically twice his normal weight.

Unless…

Minerva knew it was very dangerous to perform a weightless spell on a human—werewolf or not—but she had no other choice. As Remus was taking his last pants of conscious breath, she retrieved her wand and tilted his face to her.

" You’ll be okay, love," she whispered to his dog-like face. The werewolf whimpered and let her perform the spell. Minutes passed before it took effect, making Minerva’s heart sick because she knew they didn’t have much time. There was no way she could treat him here—Pomfrey was the only one at Hogwarts who could heal a wound like this. At least, Minerva hoped she could. She waited until Remus felt completely weightless in her arms. As expected, the spell had knocked him senseless, and she lifted his almost lifeless body into her arms, following the trail of blood back out of the woods, and toward the castle.

_________________

" Is he going to be okay, Pomfrey?" Minerva asked, biting her nails. Back inside, they had closed the curtains in the hospital wing and Remus had taken on his human form. But it didn’t look good—he was still knocked out from blood loss and the effects of the weightlessness spell.

" It’s hard to say," Pomfrey answered, putting away her healing instruments. " I can do all the incantations I want…at least we’ve stopped the bleeding. I don’t know if that will be enough, though."

Minerva started chewing on one of her nails, watching Remus lie lifelessly on the bed. Pomfrey left the room, and went to go let the other teachers who were waiting outside know what the situation was. Dumbledore was still no where to be found.

She walked carefully over to Remus’s bedside, and knelt down so that her face was level to his.

" Come on, old chum," she whispered, the mere effort of speaking bringing exhausted tears to her eyes, " Wake up, won’t you?"

Remus groaned slightly, and Minerva gasped. She reached out and pushed his wispy bangs off his forehead, and grabbed a wet washcloth to cool his sweaty brow.

" Remus?" she whispered, leaning close to him, " Please come back," she said, choking on her words, " I need you. I can’t…do this alone. I can’t do it without…you."

He groaned again, and Minerva sobbed happily.

" Minny…?" he said in a tiny whisper.

" Shhh," she cooed, dabbing his cheeks with the cloth, " You’re alright now, Remus, you’re back at Hogwarts."

" M-Minny," he stammered weakly, his eyes fluttering open.

" I’m right here," she said, cupping his cheek gently in her hand and turning his face toward hers. She saw his gray eyes come to life when he saw her beside him. And then they seemed to darken. He moved a bit, and groaned in pain.

" Take it slow, dear," McGonagall warned, wiping tears from her cheeks.

" N-no, Minny," Remus said, his voice small and scratchy, " Danger… we’re in…" He winced and trailed off.

" I know we’re in danger," Minerva said, " Is he here already? You-Know-Who? Is that who did this to you?"

" T-t-t," Remus was trying to get something out, blinded by the pain at his side.

" Do you need another pain-killer charm?" Minerva asked, raising her wand readily.

" Thomas," Remus finally managed. The hairs on the back of Minerva’s neck stood up at the mention of that name.

" D-D-Dean Thomas?" she asked hopefully, her voice shaking.

Remus shook his head.

" No," he whispered, " It’s him, Minerva. Thomas…is…alive."

Minerva had no words to answer that statement. Had Remus gone mad? Was he trying to say that a dead baby was responsible for his injury?

Suddenly a scream spilt her shocked silence. Minerva and Remus’s eyes met for a moment, and both realized that the end was upon them. Suddenly Snape threw open the door to the room.

" Minerva—quick!" he shouted, his eyes wild with terror, " At … the… tower…HIM!"

Minerva dropped Remus’s hand and sprang to her feet. She pushed through the confused teachers that were waiting in the lobby and followed a frantic Snape down the hallway.

" What’s going on?" she cried.

" He’s abducted one of my students!" Snape told her, his voice shaking and filled with fear, " He demands to see Dumbledore—but the old man has disappeared!"

" HE demands?" McGonagall asked, " You don’t mean…"

" Its him," Snape answered with a cold certainty, " He’s here."

They bolted up the stairs to Gryffindor Tower, terrified screams leading the way. The noises lead them to the girl’s dorms, near the top of the west tower.

" Help us!" one of the students, Rosa McNally, pleaded from the floor on the hallway. She had a nasty gash on her forehead, and was crying violently, pointing a shaking finger at a room across the hall, a room that was emitting a strange green light and a strong wind.

McGonagall boldly stepped ahead of Snape, facing the doorway. Inside she saw Tom Riddle—or what was left of him, standing at the window with a quivering young boy. She recognized the kid as Lucius Malfoy’s son, Draco.

" Let the boy go!" McGonagall shouted. Tom—Voldemort—only tightened his grip around the child’s neck.

" He belongs with us!" he shouted in a voice full of venom. " I’m only doing as his father wishes by removing him from this joke of a school. Where’s Potter?" he growled.

" I thought it was me you wanted, Tom." Came a familiar voice behind her. McGonagall stepped aside to allow Dumbledore to enter the room. He stood strong and proud before her, not looking sickly at all.

" You weak old fool!" Voldemort chided with a cackle, " You think you can hide him from me? No matter. Potter’s weakness—much like his father’s was—is his sentimentality. Lucius Malfoy is willing to sacrifice his son for the good of my cause. So pass along a message to Potter, will you? For every day he leaves me waiting, this boy will come closer to his demise," Voldemort grinned wickedly and choked Draco until his face turned purple.

Suddenly Dumbledore grabbed his wand and shot a powerful spell at Voldemort, knocking Draco out of his arms. The boy fell onto the floor, choking and gasping for air.

Taken by surprise, Voldemort threw a clumsy fire-spell at Dumbledore, which was easily blocked by the old wizard.

" So," Voldemort said with a sneer, " You’re not so weak as you appeared."

" That’s right, Tom," Dumbledore said coolly, " Your greatest weakness was your willingness to except what you see. I remembered that when I began faking my own illness."

" Draco!" Rosa screamed, pushing through her professor’s legs and beckoning to the boy who shivered on the floor, drained by Voldemort’s venomous touch.

Voldemort laughed as Draco collapsed into a heap. " Call to him as much as you like," he snickered, " He fights for us from now on."

Enraged, Rosa pushed her way past McGonagall and ran out toward Draco. Luckily, Dumbledore was able to snatch her out of the way as Voldemort shot a fire spell at her. Voldemort then pointed at Draco, and the boy’s body levitated back into his grasp.

" Thanks for the distraction, girlie!" he called, taking off into the night, with Draco in his arms.

****************

The world seemed to stand still as Harry and James Potter’s eyes met for the first time in seventeen years. Hermione realized that she was holding her breath, and let it out silently, not daring to break the awkward silence.

" James," Sirius finally spoke, " I didn’t know—but Harry has…found you out…he’s…"

" It’s alright, Sirius," James said, his voice even. He was a mere shadow of the man Hermione remembered from her experiences with time travel. His formerly commanding stature was replaced with a weak and defeated slouch; his once blazing dark eyes had grown indifferent. Lines traced years of worry on his face.

" Perhaps we should go inside," Carrie, Sirius’s wife, suggested. John and Melissa, their children, nodded quietly and started for the house. Opheila, their fairy friend, took off for the forest, mumbling something about not being able to breathe human air for too long.

Hermione gladly followed Sirius’s family toward the house, as did James. But Harry stood firm. He was staring straight ahead, not moving, not saying a word.

" Harry…" James started again, but there were no words. Frustrated with the situation and himself, he turned angrily and walked into the house.

" Hermione," Sirius said quietly before going in himself, " See if you can’t get him to come in and sit down. He doesn’t look well." Hermione nodded, and turned back to Harry.

" Hey," she said softly, walking to him. She placed a hand on his shoulder and rubbed his tense muscles. Harry didn’t even flinch. " What’s the matter?" Hermione asked him, " You knew this would be difficult…"

Harry was quiet for a long time after that, and Hermione just leaned against his back. She could feel Melissa and John’s eyes on her, watching them from the upstairs windows. She wondered what James was thinking right now. Or what Harry was thinking, for that matter.

" Let’s go," he finally said, lifting his broom in a tight-knuckled grip.

" What?" Hermione asked, as he began to walk away, " You came all this way and now you’re going?"

" Yes." Harry said plainly, kicking his leg over his broom. " Get on."

" I will not!" Hermione said, " What’s your problem?"

Harry glared at her, " You saw him!" he said in a hushed whisper, " That man is not my father. My father is dead."

" Oh, Harry," Hermione said, " I know it looks that way…but obviously he’s been through a lot. Why don’t you give him a chance? I’m sure James Potter—your father—is in there somewhere."

" Stop being such a goddamn idealist!" Harry barked. " That man abandoned me! He left me to be raised by those monsters—"

" He didn’t know you were alive for ten years!" Hermione reminded him, " And once he did, Hagrid came to rescue you, at Dumbledore’s request. You think that was a coincidence?"

" Yeah, and then seven years went by!" Harry shouted, " Even at Hogwarts, I always felt so alone—knowing now that he was alive all that time—well, it’s like a slap in the face!"

" Harry we haven’t got much time left!" Hermione said, angry, " Don’t let this be something you’ll regret—even if you just go in there and give him a piece of your mind, at least speak to him! Tell him how lonely you were, tell him anything! He’s your father, Harry. Even after everything…you owe him that."

" I…I can’t yell at him," Harry said, looking at the ground, " He looks so pitiful. It’s embarrassing."

Hermione folded her arms over her chest. " Well, I’m going in to take some tea," she told him, " And then we’ve got to get back to Hogwarts before all hell breaks loose. I hope you’ll join me." With that she turned and walked across the yard and into Sirius’s house. She heard uneasy footsteps behind her, and Harry followed her in.

Harry leaned his broom against the frame of the front door. John was sitting on the staircase inside.

" They’re in the kitchen," he said, smiling sympathetically.

" Thanks," Hermione said, taking Harry’s hand. The house was quaint and country-like inside, with wooden furniture and spongy, checkered couches. She found the kitchen toward the back of the house, and felt Harry’s hand tighten around hers as they walked inside.

Sirius sat at the table with James, who was staring with melancholic posture into a cup of tea. Carrie was at the counter, dumping a batch of messy homemade tea cookies onto a plate. Melissa had been playing with a large brown owl at the window, but when Hermione and Harry entered she shooed the bird away and left the room.

" Harry," Sirius said, getting up, " Sit down, won’t you?"

" We don’t have much time," he mumbled, sitting on the opposite end of the table, not looking at his father. Hermione took a seat beside him, nervously pouring sugar and cream into her tea cup.

" Harry," James tried again to speak to him, and sighed, " I hope you understand…my circumstances."

" I understand," Harry snapped, still not looking at him, or even in his direction.

" Are you asking me to forgive you?"

" No," James said, setting down his tea, " I’d never ask that of you…or your mother."
" My mother?" Harry finally sneered up at him, " What, are you going to tell me now that she’s alive, too?"
" I wish that were true," James said, " But I only meant that I betrayed both of you. And I want you to know that I’ll never expect you to excuse my behavior. I wouldn’t want you to."

" So why don’t you walk me through it?" Harry said, throwing down his cup,

" Explain how you could have possibly gotten away without knowing that I was alive."

" I…I can’t explain what happened," James said, squinting down at the table.

" Voldemort blasted me…I thought I was dead. I came to…heard Lily being attacked….you screaming…the house was burning down, and then he was gone. I had failed you. The prophets had been wrong, and I hadn’t been strong enough to stop the Dark Lord. Can you imagine the sense of defeat that instilled upon me?"
Harry looked away and said nothing. Hermione’s heart sank—don’t give him any ideas about failing…she thought.

" James," she said quietly to break the awkward silence, " Minerva McGonagall wanted to know…wanted me to ask… is there any chance that you would be willing to return to civilization?"

James nodded, " I know this is your most desperate hour, that Tom is coming for my son," his voice quaked at the word, and he ran his hand through his thinning black hair, " I want to be there for my friends…and for you, Harry, if you’ll have me."

" I don’t need your help," Harry said, pushing his chair back and getting up from the table. He then whirled around, as if in afterthought, " If you couldn’t save me then, what the hell do you expect to do for me now?" He almost looked as if he regretted saying that before he stormed out of the room, and back out the front door. James rested his head on the table.

" He’s right," he muttered, " I wish he hadn’t found out…I’m better off dead in his eyes."

" That’s not true," Hermione said, going to his side, " Of course he’s acting like this now—he’s upset, and the situation back home is making him crazy. But in some small way I think he’s so glad to have you here on Earth with him…that he can’t stand it!"

James lifted his head and looked at her.

" He’s a great wizard, isn’t he?" he whispered. Hermione nodded slowly. " I’ve followed his career since he started at Hogwarts, since I met up with Lupin and found out he was still alive. I just hope…I just hope I won’t lose him to Tom again."

" I’m trying to see that you don’t," Hermione whispered. " Isn’t there anything you can do? Come back to Hogwarts—Harry will get used to the idea of having you around. Underneath everything, he really loves you."

James shook his head, " I’ve hurt him too badly," he said, " And I don’t deserve that, anyway." His eyes fell on Hermione’s necklace.

" Lily," he whispered, touching the amethyst. " I put this in the invisibility cloak when I sent it to him for Christmas." James remembered, " Only…"

" Its not the same necklace you remember," Hermione said, " Not the one that had been blasted by Voldemort…" suddenly she remembered something. " How did you get this necklace, if you were gone before you were sure Harry and Lily were dead?"

" Lupin got it for me," James explained, his eyes full of tears, his hand closing around the crystal. " They took it off…after…and anyway, he tracked it down and gave it to me when we met again." He released the crystal and it fell back against Hermione’s neck. " I wanted Harry to have it," James said, " I don’t even deserve her memory."

Hermione left Sirius’s house with well-wishes from everyone, and as useless as their sentiments were, they made her feel better about the battle ahead somehow. She walked out into the yard, where Harry stood with John and Melissa, holding his broom and their bag.

" What were you doing in there?" he asked her, " We’ve got to get back."

" He wants to come home, Harry," Hermione said, walking to him, " Won’t you tell him that you want him there?"

" I don’t give a damn what he does," Harry said, " I’ve got a job to do."

" Can’t you just work all of this out after you settle things at home?" Melissa suggested. Hermione and Harry shared a look. If only it were that easy. If only there would be an "after".

" Sure," Harry said, kicking off on his broom and launching it into the air, " Give everyone my regards." Hermione reluctantly climbed on behind him. As important as the situation here with his father was, millions of lives were at stake back in London. And many more would be threatened after that, if Voldemort had his way.

" Nice to meet you, Harry," John said, " And just so you know," he added, glancing at his sister, " He keeps your picture with him, everywhere he goes. Its always in his pocket, under his pillow…"

Harry started to take off.

" It’s a picture he tore out of the Daily Prophet!" Melissa called, " Black and white and smudged—but he’s always looking at it!"

" He loves you, Harry!" John screamed as they flew away.

" Harry, go back!" Hermione cried, trying to steer the broom by reaching around him.

" It’s a bunch of rubbish!" Harry shouted, " I don’t care if he loves me! I feel nothing for that man—I wish he were dead!"

Hermione couldn’t believe how insensitive he was being, life or death circumstances or not. He’d just wasted his last chance at having a father. She turned and watched the little city of Argentine disappear over the mountain.

She resolved not to talk to him for the rest of the trip home, given his bad attitude. They both had a lot of things on their minds, and both were very tired. Hermione had hoped to stay over-night at Sirius’s house, but as soon as she’d seen Harry take his first look at his father she’d known that wasn’t going to happen. Plus, like Harry, she had an urgent feeling that they were needed back at home.

They hadn’t flown over the thick forest for long, when Hermione felt Harry begin to shake. It took her a moment to realize that he was convulsing with silent sobs.

" Harry?" she whispered, gently touching his hair. He didn’t turn around; simply lowered the broom down below the tree tops, and landed on a thick branch.

Harry stumbled off his broom and collapsed on the mossy bough, his back to Hermione and his head in his hands. She climbed off the broom and went to him, putting her arms around him.

" Its alright," she whispered, and what a lie that was. Everything had now officially gone to blazes, and the scene they would face back home would surely not be a pretty one.

" I don’t need him!" Harry sobbed into her chest, holding onto her for dear life. The whole scene was of course heart-breaking, but Hermione didn’t have any tears left.

" Oh, Harry," she whispered, " What are we going to do?"