In her defence, Jen hadn't been neglecting to call the kids on purpose. She had been expecting a call when they found out Sirius was alive, but then OWLs had started the following day, and she assumed they were all wrapped up in them.

In any case, she had her own missions to be getting on with. Addie was slowly recovering from her ordeal, although she was still a little skittish (and who could blame her), and it wasn't until several weeks after her escape that Jen felt comfortable leaving her alone with Sirius and Remus.

Not that either man was a threat to her, but Addie had found herself occasionally slipping into a state of being unwilling to be around men.

Her destination was Auror Headquarters – more specifically, Kingsley Shacklebolt's cubicle. Unlike her last visit, the walls were bare – the pictures of Sirius and the map with the glowing pins had been removed and stowed away somewhere.

"Knock, knock." She said, by way of greeting.

Kingsley gestured her in to the cubicle without looking up from his paperwork. "Morning, Black. What can I do for you?"

Jen glanced along the row of alcoves and tapped her fingers against the wall as she entered, setting up a Privacy Charm. "Well, first of all, I wanted to invite you in person."

Kingsley set the forms aside, leaning back in his chair. "Invite me in person to what?"

"To the wedding." Jen answered, perching on the edge of the desk. "Remus and I are getting married – July 3rd."

"Congratulations." Kingsley said. "I'd love to."

"Great." Jen said brightly, handing him an envelope. "This is also a charmed Portkey, so don't lose it."

"Wouldn't dream of it." Kingsley said, tucking it inside his robes.

"You can bring Aidan if you like." Jen added.

Kingsley hesitated. "How did you know about Aidan?"

Jen smiled brightly. "I know everything."

"Jen …"

Jen laughed. "Alright, I saw you two having coffee the other day; overheard his name."

"That doesn't mean anything." Kingsley pointed out.

"No, it doesn't." Jen agreed. "But if it meant nothing, you'd have asked me why you'd bring him to the wedding, not how I knew."

Kingsley sighed. "Damn you, Jen. I'll think about it. I need to tell him everything first."

"Ah." Jen said, shaking her head. "The Conversation. Word of advice – the longer you wait, the more mad he'll be."

"Thank you." Kingsley said dryly. "Was there anything else?"

"As a matter of fact, there is." Jen said. "Could I take a look at your cold case files?"

"Cold case files?" Kingsley repeated. "Whatever for?"

"Just a little private project I'm working on." Jen answered vaguely.

He caught her eyes and held her gaze for a few moments, before pushing his chair back and standing. "Come on."

Jen followed him out of the bullpen and through the maze of corridors, to the storage room where they kept all the cold case files.

Kingsley pressed the tip of his wand into a small indentation beside the door and it slid open, allowing them entrance. "Anything in particular?"

"Woman accidentally killed when her house-elf added poison to her coffee instead of sugar." Jen answered.

Kingsley turned to face her. "That's not a cold case, Jen."

"It is when there was a reported robbery that was never solved." Jen said. "A cup that supposedly belonged to Helga Hufflepuff and a locket that was believed to have belonged to Salazar Slytherin."

"I don't want to know." Kingsley decided. "It'll be in here somewhere; knock yourself out. Lock up when you're done."

She saluted and he left her to it, and it wasn't long before she found the file she was looking for – Hepzibah Smith, 1946, accidental death.

"Must have been pureblood with a name like that." Jen muttered, running through family trees in her mind. She knew that the Longbottom family was directly descended from Helga Hufflepuff, but she seemed to remember something about the Smith family being related somewhere along the line as well.

"So she could have had the cup." Jen murmured aloud, running her finger down the house-elf's statement. "But how would she have …?" She trailed off, reaching part of the statement that would probably have been dismissed out of hand.

Hepzibah Smith had received a visit from Borgin & Burke's a few days before her death, but the house-elf couldn't remember the name of the visitor.

Jen checked her watch. She had time before her appointment to take a trip to Knockturn Alley. Carefully replacing the file, she let herself out of the archives, resealing the door, and swiftly left the Ministry.

No one paid her much attention as she moved through Diagon Alley and slipped into her darker neighbour. Now the Wizarding world knew that they were at war once more, people kept their heads down, dashing in and out of shops as though reluctant to be in the open for too long.

It was painfully familiar.

Borgin & Burke's was fairly near the entrance of Knockturn Alley and she pushed open the door, the tiny bell jangling softly at the movement.

Mr Borgin himself was behind the counter, and he looked up at her entrance, a false smile spreading across his face. "Ah, Lady Black. What a surprise."

"I need some information." Jen said flatly, and she smile disappeared.

"I can't help you." He said firmly.

Before he could disappear into the back room, her hand shot out, grasping his wrist. "1946. Hepzibah Smith."

Burke hesitated, and she released him. "What about her?"

"She had a founders' relic." Jen said.

"Bought it from us." Another voice wheezed.

Caractacus Burke was over a hundred now, and he toddled out slowly, hunched over and rasping with each breath.

"Helga Hufflepuff's cup?" Jen asked.

Burke cackled. "Nah. Slytherin's locket."

Jen narrowed her eyes. "Where did you get Slytherin's locket?"

"Some lass came stumbling in with it." Borgin answered, grinning. "Pretty far along in the family way and desperate for money. Didn't know what she had."

Jen pursed her lips. It was unlikely Slytherin's descendants would have let the locket – or any heirloom – out of their possession, which meant that young woman could well have been Voldemort's mother.

The idea was a strange one.

It was also a certainty that they had given her much less than the locket was worth, probably contributing heavily to her death.

She decided she wasn't going to dwell on either of those things.

"Look, before she died, Smith got a visit from here – who was it?"

Borgin shrugged. "You're talkin' years ago. All we could do is guess."

Jen sighed, pulling a bag of galleons from her cloak and placing it on the counter. "Then guess."

"Tom Riddle." Burke said promptly. "He was the one that did the most dealings with her."

Jen smiled grimly. So Voldemort had killed Smith and made it look like the house elf did it. That explained how he got the locket – and meant that the cup was likely a Horcrux as well. "Thank you, gentlemen. You've been very helpful."

Bill was waiting in the Leaky Cauldron when she returned, and she greeted him with a firm handshake and a smile.

"Thank you for meeting me."

"Not at all." Bill said. "Can I ask what it's about?"

Jen smiled. "I need a curse-breaker for an hour or two; what's the charge?"

Bill chuckled. "For you? On the house."

Jen pulled a face. "Bill, you're not doing it for free."

Bill sighed. "What do you need a curse-breaker for?"

"I need to check the wards on a couple of properties." Jen explained in a low tone. "I could do it myself, but I want to make absolutely sure I'm right before I act."

"No charge." Bill repeated.

"I'll make you dinner." Jen offered, reapplying the 'Jessica' glamour with a wave of her wand.

Bill grinned at her. "Deal."

Anyone glancing out of their front windows on Privet Drive would notice nothing unusual about the couple strolling along the street.

The only thing that would set neighbourhood tongues wagging was the obscene length of the man's hair. He was also the first man anyone had seen Miss Brown with in all the years she had lived in Privet Drive.

Mrs Dursley, out for her morning walk, spotted them from halfway down the road, and hurried to catch up with them, practically smelling gossip on the air. "Jessica, dear! We were so worried about you; where on earth have you been?"

Jen smiled sweetly. "Two words, Petunia: Memory Charm." Her smile turned positively wicked when the older woman turned a deadly shade of white, and she grasped her arm tightly. "Walk with us."

"Are you going to kill me?" Petunia whispered, trotting along beside them.

"Of course not." Jen said flatly, patting her hand. "Although it's tempting, given how badly you treated my godson, and let's not get started on the nights I heard Lily crying herself to sleep at Hogwarts over your replies to her letters – she thought the world of you, you know. He shouldn't have been left with you; Lily's Will should have seen to that, and I am sorry that you were left with that responsibility." Her eyes turned to ice as she glared at Petunia. "But do not think that I have forgotten the way you treated him and I will be keeping a very close eye on things. Do you understand?"

"Yes." Petunia whispered, unable to meet her eyes.

"Good." Jen's smile reappeared as rapidly as it had vanished. "Now we need to talk to you about the blood wards, Petunia. I know Dumbledore told us that there were wards around your home relying on your relationship to Harry, but it was a lie. There are no more wards there than around any other house on this street."

Petunia turned, if possible, even paler and began to stammer protests.

"Harry will not be returning to you this summer." Jen said, overriding them. "Were it my decision, given how you treated him, I would take my leave now, but I have our sister to think about – because I do consider Lily a sister. You are potentially in danger, even without Harry here, and Lily would never forgive me if I didn't do something to protect you. So I can offer you a safe-house or an emergency Portkey. Your choice."

"What is a Portkey?" Petunia asked curiously.

"It's a form of magical transportation." Jen explained, removing a locket from the inside of her jacket. "If you're in danger, say the words 'safe haven' and it will transport you and anyone holding you to a safe house."

"Vernon would never agree to move." Petunia said. "I think that might be the safer option."

"Very well." Jen said, handing her the locket. "Harry's owl has a tendency to turn up when she's needed, so if you do get a burning urge to get in contact, she'll appear sooner or later."

Bill cleared his throat. "Well, Jen, we'd best be on our way. Your fiancé will be getting worried."

Jen's smile widened as Petunia glanced between them. "Bill is a very good friend, but that's all. My fiancé is waiting at home with my brother." She raised her voice slightly so the eavesdroppers could hear. "Well, it was lovely to see you again, Mrs Dursley. Do take care."

"You as well, dear." Petunia responded, finally freeing her arm from Jen's grip and practically running away.

"That was a good thing you did." Bill said quietly, as he and Jen continued towards the alleyway to Magnolia Crescent.

Jen shook her head. "Lily would never forgive me." She repeated. "You're absolutely sure about the blood wards?"

"Positive." Bill confirmed. "They were there originally, but they relied on Petunia's love for Lily and for her nephew and …"

"That wasn't going to happen." Jen finished with a sigh. "Well, at least his intentions were good. Or that's what he wants us to think, which is even worse than if he never put anything there in the first place."

"Where next?" Bill asked. "Not home, I'm guessing."

Jen smiled sadly. "No." She led him halfway down the alleyway, took his arm and turned sharply, apparating them to the edge of the wards of Potter Manor, James's ancestral home in Hampshire.

As soon as they landed and Bill had taken in his surroundings, he let out a low whistle.

Jen removed the Glamour Charm, looking up at the manor house in the distance. "I know. Stunning, isn't it."

It had been argued for centuries as to whether Potter Manor or Hogwarts Castle was the more impressive of the two buildings and many concluded that, while Hogwarts was the more magical of the two, Potter Manor was definitely the more attractive.

A large white manor house, it stood proud in the middle of what was close to several miles of grounds and gardens. The majority of the grounds remained the same, unchanged through the generations as the house was passed down from father to son, but the closest part had been Emily Potter's pride and joy. James's mother had insisted that the house-elves in charge of the grounds had left this area to her loving care and the result would have made a professional gardener green with envy.

James and Lily had moved into Potter Manor after they married, and had lived there happily until several months after Harry's birth and Dumbledore's claim that the wards had been falling.

It was Sirius who had told Jen about that, not long after Harry and Hermione had returned to school, and it had cleared a lot of things up for Jen, who had been thoroughly confused about why they would move to Godric's Hollow. There was no doubt that Lily had been in her element – the gardens were well-kept, the rooms spotless and the kitchen always smelt of freshly-baked brownies. However, when it came to security, there was no question; Potter Manor was safer.

"Jen?" Bill prompted.

Jen shook herself, turning away from the manor. "Sorry, Bill. What were you saying?"

"The wards are perfect." Bill repeated. "Absolutely flawless. A little weakened, because no one's been here, but even taking that into account, they're incredible. As far as I can tell, they can only be altered by the Head of the House of Potter or the heir. Which means, if I'm not mistaken, James and Harry?"

"Right." Jen said, grimacing. "So they didn't need to leave here. They'd have been perfectly safe."

"Safer." Bill corrected. "They won't let anyone through who wishes harm, physical or emotional, direct or indirect, advertently or inadvertently, on the head of the heir of the House of Potter. From what you're saying, I don't think Dumbledore would be able to get in, whatever his reasoning. They're so strong that, theoretically, even if Sirius wasn't staying here, no one who thinks he's guilty would be able to get through the wards, because they'd take him to be Kissed if they ever found him, which would indirectly, inadvertently cause Harry emotional harm."

Jen let out a delighted laugh, tugging him over the ward line and up to the house. "Bill, that's the best news I've heard in a long time." She tapped her wand against the door and pushed it open. "Now while we're here, I want to take a look and see if I can find James's two-way mirror. Remus came by last year, but couldn't find it for some reason."

"Maybe he didn't look far enough." Bill suggested. "It's a freakin' big house."

"That's an understatement." Jen sniggered. "Sirius and I used to get lost when we were kids. And our place isn't exactly small."

"What about the house-elves?" Bill asked.

Jen thought for a second. "I think James told them to go and help their cousins. They didn't exactly need an army of house-elves in the village." She sighed, before brightening. "Dobby?"

With a crack, the little elf appeared in front of her with a bow. "Good morning, Miss Jennifer."

Jen gave him a kind smile. "Good morning Dobby. Could you call the head Potter elf here please?"

"Certainly Miss Jennifer." Dobby closed his eyes for a second, before visibly drooping and looking up at her with a pained expression. "I is not finding any, Miss Jennifer."

"Oh dear." Jen sighed, patting him on the head so he knew she didn't blame him. "There should be a two-way mirror in this house. Could you fetch it for me?"

Dobby cheered up instantly. "Of course Miss Jennifer." He vanished with another crack.

"Do you think the Potter elves are all dead?" Bill asked.

"Probably." Jen said with another sigh. "Such a shame. Stelphie was such a lovely creature too."

Dobby appeared again and handed her the mirror, and she gave him a smile. "Thank you Dobby. Where was it, out of interest?"

"Under the crib in the nursery, Miss Jennifer." Dobby answered.

"The nursery." Jen muttered. "Why didn't Remus think of that? One last thing, Dobby. Could you go to the Heirs Suite and tell me if there are wands in there? Don't move them if they are."

Once Dobby had confirmed that, yes, there were two wands in the Heirs Suite, Jen sent him back to Ravenscroft Manor, turning the mirror over in her hands.

"Whose wands are they?" Bill asked curiously.

"James and Lily's." Jen answered. "It's tradition that Potter house-elves have orders to take the wands to the Heirs Suites if their master and mistress are separated from them for whatever reason. It's a strange tradition, but at least we know where their wands are. Right, not putting this off any longer." She held the mirror up. "Hermione Granger."

In Hogwarts, Hermione was curled up in Harry's lap in the Room of Requirement, away from the prying eyes of their friends.

Hermione and Draco had used their combined pull over the castle to protect him while he was in the Slytherin dorms, and he was currently out by the lake with Ginny. So far, the two had confided only in Hermione about their bond and she, privately, felt that it was a good thing.

Ron, to everyone's surprise, had gone with Luna to visit Hagrid. Since the fight at the Department of Mysteries – the memory still sent a shudder through her – he had become a lot more attentive to her words and had begun telling people off for making fun of her.

Neville was down in the greenhouses – rather predictably – and Susan was in the Hufflepuff Common Room, so the new couple had taken advantage of the natural scattering of their friends to catch some private time together, which had been few and far between during their exams.

"How do you think you did?" Hermione asked absently.

Harry sighed against her. "About as well as could be expected."

"Defence seemed almost too easy." Hermione continued.

"Practical application." Harry offered.

At that point, Hermione's train of thought ground to a halt, distracted by Harry's preoccupation with a spot just below her ear. Shifting to face him, she pulled him into a proper kiss, feeling his fingers thread into her hair.

The thought of her hair got the train moving again, albeit in a different direction, and she pulled away, resting her forehead against his. "Harry, Ginny said that when she found me … after, you know, it happened … she said that my Glamour Charm had disappeared."

Harry frowned slightly, tilting his head rather like a confused puppy. "What Glamour Charm?"

Hermione tugged her lower lip between her teeth, tucking a strand of hair behind her hair. "Well, an adoption in the Wizarding World involves an exchange of blood, which alters the appearance of the child. It's been there since that Halloween, and it's self-sustaining by now. It only fell because I was … because I was dying; Jen put it back up before she sent me here." She paused, squeezing the hands that tightened on her waist automatically. "I can't remove it by myself, but … I want to know. I want to know what I look like. What I really look like."

"Hermione, you're beautiful!" Harry protested. "Why would you want to look different?"

"It's not a case of wanting to look different." Hermione told him gently. "I already look different. I just want to know how different."

Harry heaved a sigh, and nudged her gently, urging her to stand up. "Alright. But I want it on record that I love you no matter what."

Hermione smiled at him. "I know. Go on."

With a flick of their wands and a muttered incantation, a warm glow settled over her for a moment, then passed, and Hermione asked the room for a mirror, turning in front of it to examine herself.

Her hair was slightly darker and sleeker, falling in easy waves around her face, which now sported stormy grey eyes and highly defined facial features that she recognised from Jen, Sirius and Andie. "Interesting." She glanced at Harry, and a mischievous smile crossed her face. "So, before or after – which is better?"

Harry groaned. "Hermione, why? Why would you do that? I love you – you could have turned into Millicent Bulstrode for all I care." He paused. "Although I'm glad you didn't." He shook his head, freeing himself of the –frankly disturbing – mental image, and stood up, taking her hands. "You will always be beautiful to me, Hermione, because of this right here."

Hermione smiled as he tapped a finger against her heart. "If you think good thoughts, they will shine out of your face, and you will always be beautiful."

Harry grinned. "Exactly."

"That's really sweet, Harry." Hermione said, wrapping her arms around his neck. "No objections to kissing me when I look like this then?"

"Hermione, I never have an objection to kissing you." Harry retorted. "Unless we're in Potions; I don't think Snape would be too pleased."

"Oh, so you wouldn't mind kissing me in front of all the other teachers?" Hermione teased, his lips just brushing hers.

Harry shrugged. "They all like me. We'd get away with it at least a few times."

"Mmm, that's true." Hermione agreed, leaning in to kiss him again.

"Hermione Granger."

"That's the mirror!" Hermione said, pulling away to search through her bag, swatting his hand as it tried to wide around her waist again. "Harry, behave!" Finally extracting the mirror, she held it up so they could both see Jen's face, far more carefree than they had been expecting. "Hi, Jen. Where are you – that's not Ravenscroft, is it?"

"No, it's Potter Manor." Jen answered. "Bill and I are visiting to check the wards. How did your OWLs go?"

Hermione smiled sadly, taking Harry's hand. "About as well as could be expected, given the circumstances."

"What do you mean, 'given the circumstances'?" Jen asked, looking worried. "Did something else happen?"

The two Gryffindors exchanged a puzzled glance. "Well, no." Hermione said finally. "But … Sirius … Losing him wasn't exactly easy."

In Potter Manor, Bill felt Jen's magic begin to stir and gently relieved her of the mirror, turning it to face him. "Hey, guys. Apparently, Dumbledore's decided not to tell you. Sirius isn't dead. He turned up at Ravenscroft a few weeks after the battle – Dumbledore said he'd informed you."

Hermione burst into tears, and Harry quickly rescued the mirror, tugging her on to his lap. "Is Jen alright?" He asked, his voice tight with anger.

"I'm fine, Harry." Jen assured him, taking the mirror back. "Dare I ask why you haven't contacted us?"

"Dumbledore said that you weren't talking to anyone." Harry answered.

Jen closed her eyes and took a deep breath, slowly counting backwards from ten. "Oh, he's gone too far this time." She whispered, her voice so icy that it seemed to cool the room through the mirror. "Harry, I want you and Draco in the Room of Requirement tonight at eight. Just you two – it's best if Hermione and the others have plausible deniability. Okay?"

"I'll be there." Harry agreed. "What are you going to do?"

"I've been playing this game for far too long." Jen said darkly. "I'm doing this my way now. Albus Dumbledore has no idea who he's dealing with."

AN: And that's the end of this one! I will start posting the sequel, The Last Stand, tomorrow, so keep an eye out!