Chapter 20

Althea smoothed the skirt of her violet robes. She very much liked the slimmed lines of Afina's design. The fabric clung to her form nicely. She looked younger, felt younger as she should—she was only thirty-four…not seventy-four! She turned her chair from side to side—Hogwarts did need a bit of glamour. Hogwarts. She sighed, wrinkling her nose at her desk, her bookshelves, at her windows, and at the rest of her office. The Welcoming Feast was not for a few more hours, but she had to welcome Moody. She smirked. He'll be delighted to know I'm wearing my best bra and knickers for him, she thought and flicked the corner of the unmarked essay of Hermione Granger upon her desk. She gave the girl a perfect mark anyway.

She would visit Sirius on the weekend…if she could wait that long. She arched her fingers, her nails dragged across the arms of her chair, as she thought of him. He promised to refurbish the cottage. He assured her that by Christmas, the cottage would be livable and the couple would spend their first Christmas as a family with Harry and with Prudence. She shook her head—another Christmas would be spent at Northfield—for she could not imagine him, alone, living so closely to Gran for such a length of time. No, she would find him bothering Remus, and sabotaging his teaching efforts not to teach Freddie naughty spells. He could always…live here, she thought and felt a jolt of excitement at such an idea. Her big, black dog, the lovable stray that Althea took in, would be a perfect cover…except for Moody. She sighed loudly.

"Bloody Aurors," she murmured and made a face.

Out of her periphery, she noticed the fluttering of wings at her window. Gran's owl hopped onto her desk and held out its leg, seeming to sneer at her and the note attached to it. Althea reached forward and snickered at the very naughty nickname in Sirius' script.

"If only Gran knew what you did on your own time," she said, taking the letter in her hands.

The owl shook its leg and quickly flew off. Althea giggled deeply; her eyes drifted from the outline of the owl and the storm clouds in the distance to the letter. You haven't called me this in ages, she thought, her finger slipping underneath the envelope edge. At least I didn't receive this at the Head Table…imagine the looks from colleagues. She unfolded the letter and read:

I couldn't bear to spend the evening without you.

Meet me in the Shrieking Shack at 9pm.

You won't be late for morning classes, I promise.

Always,

Your S

Althea wrinkled her nose. The Shrieking Shack? She would have preferred her quarters, but with the prospect of a very capable ex-Auror lurking about Hogwarts, one had to take precaution. She folded the letter and tossed it upon her desk. She would have to remind him tonight. She continued to swivel gently in her chair; her fingers absently picked at the edges of papers upon her desk. Some would think she was feeble or desperate for renewing a relationship with Sirius—even crazy or obsessive. However, he was an unresolved part of her life. She smiled—she was very pleased at how it resolved. Why wouldn't she want to be with a man that understood her? Accepted her? Loved her?

Loud, but firm, knocking broke Althea from her thoughts.

"Yes?" she said, sitting up. "Come in."

It was difficult to obscure her frown at the sight of Severus Snape. Snape, of course, exhibited the same displeasure.

"I hope you had a good summer," she said, sitting forward as Snape entered her office. "Enjoyed a bit of sun," she said and wrinkled her nose at Snape's perpetual sallow complexion, "or not."

Disregarding all pleasantries and politeness, Snape said, "The Headmaster would like to speak with you."

Althea sighed as she tapped her palms against the armrests of her chair. "Of course," she murmured and forced a smile. "I'll arrive shortly," she added and nodded for him to leave.

Snape, however, did not take notice. "I wish Dumbledore would have accepted your resignation," he said, his hands balling into fists at his side.

Althea arched an eyebrow. "How did you know?" she asked as she stood.

Snape would not give her the satisfaction of an answer, and instead replied, "Wanted to chase after Lupin, no doubt."

"Hardly," she said as she walked to the front of her desk.

"I will do everything in my power to know how you let Black escape."

Althea laughed. "Likely," she said with an amused smile. "Have you forgotten I had my wand aimed at his heart?"

"A weak display," he replied, studying Althea, "and an empty threat, as usual."

"Of course," she murmured, as she rested against the desk and folded her arms. "Did you spend this summer in attempt to track him down?"

Snape's thick, black eyebrow twitched.

"Lurked about every moor, traversed heath after countless heath, leaving no stone unturned of the countryside in your quest to find him," she continued and bit her bottom lip with feigned thoughtfulness. "Ah, but he was so bloody elusive, wasn't he? Always one step ahead, and definitely not on a beach somewhere up to his eyes in pert tits and tight asses of university-age girls on summer holiday."

"Are you finished?" he said through his gritted, uneven teeth.

Althea nodded. "Why are you still here?" she asked and motioned toward the door. "Good day, Snape."

Snape swallowed as if about to vomit as he spoke, "I am to escort you."

"I reckon I can manage," she said and nodded once more for him to leave.

"I was summoned as well," he said, adjusting the sleeves upon his black robes. "The Headmaster would like to speak to the both of us."

"Bloody hell," she muttered and kicked her heel against the floor.

"Exactly."

Althea sighed heavily, throwing her head back, and lifted herself from her desk. She reluctantly followed Snape up the staircases and through the hallways and corridors that led to Professor Dumbledore's office. Why would Dumbledore insist upon a meeting with Snape and Althea? It's not that bloody faculty unity bollocks again, she thought. She wrinkled her nose as she walked by the large portrait of Cupid and Psyche, which seemed to have offended Cupid—he quickly pulled the red blanket to his chest. I remember the last talk: 'Disagreements need not be solved at the end of a wand or butter knife.'

Snape uttered the password and the two professors entered Dumbledore's office. Dumbledore rose from his chair and offered the chairs before his desk. Some of the Headmasters, who had been wandering through portraits, quickly returned to their portrait homes.

"Well, well," Phineas said when Althea took her seat before Dumbledore.

Althea smiled with feigned sweetness at Sirius's ancestor. "If you even think of uttering, 'that Muckblooded tart that led our dear Sirius astray,' I'll take an ax to your portrait."

Phineas leaned forward. "You wouldn't dare."

"Haven't your lot learnt not to dare me?"

Phineas laughed and slammed his hand upon his armrest. "Ha! Insubordination!" he proclaimed and pointed his forefinger at Althea. "You heard it!" he continued, his look pleased. "Insubordination, Dumbledore!"

"Phineas, quiet," Dumbledore insisted, looking over his half-moon glasses at the pair. "I must speak with Althea and Severus."

Phineas quieted and reclined in his chair. "Yes, Headmaster."

Dumbledore looked from Snape to Althea as he spoke, "I owe Althea an apology—"

Althea raised an eyebrow. An apology?

Dumbledore nodded. "You have deserved this apology for thirteen years—"

Althea glanced in Snape's direction. He was perplexed.

"Althea was the victim of a most gross injustice," he continued and shifted his gaze to Snape.

Snape uncharacteristically fidgeted in his chair.

"Sirius Black is innocent."

What felt like ten pleasant fireworks erupted in Althea's belly. She turned her head to witness Snape's reaction. She inhaled deeply at the satisfying display. He was quite still. There was a pink to his sallow skin and every muscle seemed to twitch upon his thin face.

He sat forward. "Black isn't—"

"It's not polite to interrupt the Headmaster," Althea said.

Snape quickly turned to face her—his glare, murderous. She smiled.

"Severus, it is a tale I only learned this summer—"

Althea reclined in her chair and sighed happily. She would have enjoyed the Daily Prophet, but this disclosure and apology was just as satisfying. Snape sat rigid as Dumbledore disclosed the true events of Halloween night. Even Phineas took an interest and muttered that he knew his great-great grandson was not a murderer…a lecherous blood traitor, but not a murderer. Althea nodded in agreement with Dumbledore's words and vindication licked at her insides. Since her appointment to Hogwarts, Snape never spared his thoughts of Sirius and of her weakness and stupidity. Always one eager—almost with zeal—to remark of her foolish behavior, she wondered if Snape would display another tantrum. She much enjoyed Sinistra's retelling of Snape's tantrum upon learning that he would not receive an Order of Merlin for his capture of Sirius Black.

"I am very sorry, Althea," Dumbledore said and Althea nodded her acceptance of his apology. "And Severus," he said, looking upon the sullen professor, "you should apologize as well."

Althea let out a small laugh of surprise.

"I have been aware of your remarks against Althea," he said, his blue eyes seeming to bore into Snape's. "As I'd mentioned on numerous occasions, such words were uncalled for, and I will not allow such untruths to continue."

"Sorry," Snape sneered quietly.

Althea wouldn't dare press him to repeat it. "Thank you, Snape."

Snape looked as though he were to vomit. Althea would savor that expression. Oh, how she would enjoy retelling this scene to Sirius tonight!

Snape looked very eager to leave, and Dumbledore understood. "That will be all, Severus," he said and motioned for him to stand.

"Thank you, Headmaster," he muttered quickly.

Standing, Snape did not look at Althea, and—looking ahead of her—she knew he hurriedly left the room. She jumped slightly as he forcefully shut the door. Althea bit her bottom lip to keep herself from devolving into a fit of giggles. She was now alone with the Headmaster. He seemed to eye her with consideration. Don't know what to make of me now, do you, she thought, picking at the armrest.

"I trust you will be careful."

"Well, I can't get pregnant," she said and stopped picking at the armrest. "So, you don't have to worry about taking another child away."

She noticed the faint frown upon Dumbledore's lips.

Althea leaned forward—her gaze unwavering. "My intentions have always been what is best for her, and will always be what is best for her."

"Of course."

Althea growled. She wished she had carried the box Arcturus had prepared for her! It was a fine moment to confront the Headmaster's collusion. Still, the events of the summer had transformed her. Her voice—once feeble and placating to the feigned goodwill of her forced tenure at Hogwarts—was strong and clear. No longer was she subject to her guilt or to the reminders of her supposed weakness. She would remind Dumbledore that the power and control he sought over her life was tenuous.

"Sirius Black entering Hogwarts and you're not more concerned?"

Dumbledore remained calm, cool. It infuriated her.

She sat forward, pointing her finger at Dumbledore. "You knew by 1985 that he wasn't a Death Eater—"

Dumbledore's glasses slid down the bridge of his crooked nose. "Be happy they gave you a trial," he said, his brow furrowed over his piercing blue eyes. "If I hadn't intervened for such a spectacle, you were to receive the Kiss."

Althea swallowed. "Probably thought we'd have a nice little reunion in Azkaban."

Dumbledore let a small sigh escape. "Be careful, will you?"

Althea promptly stood, pushing herself upward with her palms upon the armrests. "Finally, you accept my years of advice to hire Remus after Sirius's escape? Funny that," she remarked and Dumbledore remained silent. "Good day, Headmaster."

Althea let out a low growl as the door to the Headmaster's office closed behind her. Probably thought me an idiot for not realizing sooner, she thought, lifting herself from the door. She wrinkled her nose at the figure before her. Snape, with his arms folded, stood before her—ready to taunt her. Althea—who should have been amused at Snape's behavior—only felt a slight pity. Will this continue until we're fifty? She lowered her head and strode past him, now conscious of her form-fitting dress that Snape might look at her backside. She let out a sigh for she heard Snape's footsteps quickly catch up to her.

"I have to greet Moody," she muttered as she stepped off the last step and into the corridor.

Snape didn't take the hint. "You wasted no time…pathetic."

Althea frowned slightly and quickened her pace. "Not now, Snape," she muttered, hoping to lose him as she rounded the corner.

However, Snape kept her pace. "I'm sure he was pleased to see you."

Althea let out a small, quiet growl. "What do you mean, then?"

"Black," he sneered.

Snape took two steps forward before he realized Althea had stopped. Althea's eyes darted around Snape—they were alone. Right, she thought as the interested cherubs came to rest upon the branches in the painting next to them, get on with it.

"Once again, Snape, you're obsessed with my love life," she began and rested her hands upon her hips.

Snape's nostril's twitched. "You're an embarrassment—"

"What," she asked, holding out her arms, "to these hallowed halls of magical learning?" She stepped forward. "Whether it's shagging a beloved werewolf schoolteacher, or shagging the most wanted man in the Wizarding world, you care more than any gossiping schoolgirl." She let out a laugh of humorous disbelief—Snape did not share her amusement. "Although," she continued and smiled impishly, "I must say it was the best shag I've had in thirteen years, and—as you like to remind—I've had plenty."

Snape narrowed his eyes. "It's all a joke to you," he said in a low tone.

"I won't say which one, either. I'd rather you come to your own conclusions," she teased and winked. "As you, no doubt, will."

Snape developed a maddened look, which caused Althea to take a step back. His black eyes bored into Althea's skin, making her uncomfortable.

"How could you take things so lightly?" he asked, his voice waspish. "You, most of all!" His face was purple as if it took thirteen years for him to extract what he would say next, "Black murdered Lily!"

Snape's anguished words seemed to echo in the corridor. You still, she thought, tilting her head faintly on its side, you still care for her? After all you had done? Althea blinked—did Snape have the capacity for love? Of caring for another? Has he ever shown anyone kindness?

"No matter what," he said, his voice regaining its control, "you and Black are the reason she's dead."

Althea inhaled deeply. She, too, had blamed Sirius for Lily's death—in his hubris and in his stupidity—but such blame was futile for the very simple fact that Lily and James Potter could have refused. She would not hesitate to remind Snape of this.

She licked her lips, tasting the raspberry gloss. "Lily could've refused Peter."

Snape—the muscles in his neck tightened with his veins prominent—spat, "Not with Potter!"

Althea laughed with spite. "Do you really think—" She paused, a slow and knowing smile tugged at her lips.

Snape eyed her warily.

"I remember, at Hogwarts, when you said that you'd kept that letter I'd written to Sirius until it was useful for you," she said, and saw the flicker of Snape remembering the incident upon the lawn their seventh year. "You had it planned, didn't you?" she asked and gently bit her bottom lip. "If Sirius and I were to break up, surely Lily and James would follow, wouldn't they?" She furrowed her brow. "Except, they didn't, did they? If anything, the birth of Harry—"

Althea saw the spark of anger in his eyes.

"—only brought Sirius and me back together," she finished, and she inhaled another deep, satisfying breath.

She would relish what she was about to say next. Jane and Althea—the entire fifth year Gryffindor girls' dormitory, actually—would tease Lily over Snape's obvious affection of her. Blushing and flustered, she would vehemently deny it and change the subject—usually to the equally sore subject of Sirius Black to annoy Althea. I deserved it, she thought, teasing her about your friendship when you followed her about like a pathetic puppy. She couldn't help it. She had thought Snape was jealous Lily's close friendship with her, but now she realized, Snape only sought after Lily for himself.

Althea developed a mockingly thoughtful expression. "James wasn't as sensitive a soul as you, was he?"

Snape was silent.

"Imagined him pawing around—fumbling, really," she said as her hands mimicked exaggerated squeezing. "God," she breathed and threw her head back, "like he was grasping for that bloody Snitch!" She lowered her head—Snape's hands were balled into fists at his sides. "Receiving advice from Sirius," she added, smirking, "a boy keen to muck about."

"Disgusting," he sneered and swallowed with palpable hatred.

"You spied on us that much, you freak," she murmured and lightly licked her top row of teeth. "Isn't unrequited lust a bitch?"

Out of her periphery, she saw Snape reach for his wand.

"You would know all about that, wouldn't you?" he replied, forcing a spiteful smile to show his yellowed, uneven teeth. "You and Lupin were fodder among the staff this summer. I heard it was…heartbreaking."

Althea ignored Snape's jibe and slipped her fingers inside her robe pocket. "You were hanging round people that wanted to kill her," she said and grasped the smooth handle of her wand. "Kill her. Did you convince yourself they'd make an exception?"

Snape—silent—was pale and his look furious.

"You did, didn't you?" she breathed and let out a laugh of surprise. "D'you really think she'd fancy you after that?" she asked and stepped closer to him. She could smell the acrid scent of his potions stores upon his robes as she whispered, "She loathed you." She pulled away. "Good day, Snape." she said and nodded. Tightly grasping her wand, she quickly walked past him.

"You should be more careful with your happy little family reunions."

The muscles of her torso contracted. Her heart sank into her stomach—she winced. She quickly spun to face him.

Snape, very pleased, smugly eyed Althea.

"You've spoken with Narcissa Malfoy, have you? Still carrying the tea trays until they can scrounge for a new house-elf?"

Snape was not deterred, "Such the motherly example—"

Neither was Althea, "It didn't work, Snape. I'm not sure what you were insinuating to Parker—"

"Black," he corrected.

"—when you had her clean the Trophy Room and rewrite those detention cards, but it didn't work."

"Such arrogance," he replied, "where does it come from?"

"She thinks he's fantastic," she said and noticed Snape's pleased look falter. "A kind and good man…an innocent man. Sirius Black is a bloody hero."

Snape flinched.

"Twelve years in Azkaban, and now, reunited with his one true love…" Althea inhaled deeply through her delicate nostrils, "teenage girls live for that sort of thing."

"A fool like her mother—"

Althea stepped forward. "You've obviously figured out why I'm at Hogwarts, haven't you? You loathe me that much," she said, narrowing her eyes. "If I learn that you have threatened or upset her in any way, be sure that I will carve you up just like the others, " she continued, but Snape did not budge. "This time, I'll have Sirius to help me, and knowing that you, a Death Eater, were out while he was in Azkaban is not something he fondly remembers. You remember what sort of hell he put you through at Hogwarts, just imagine what he'd do to you now."

"Ah, yes," he said, "such the strong woman you are now."

Althea looked Snape over. "At least I had the courage to get what I wanted."

"And Black is such a fine choice."

Althea smiled. "Yes, yes he is," she answered and smiled. "Now, I must take my leave and revise my lesson plans," she continued and developed a mockingly deviant look. "I have young magic minds to corrupt with Muggle machinations."

Althea's fingertips lightly traveled over the top of the squashy armchair as she leisurely walked the length of the Gryffindor common room. Her last memory—as her eyes took in the similar curtains, paintings, and tapestries—was of her hurried exit from Hogwarts. Her stomach tightened at the memory of her trunk levitating behind her, her eyes swollen from tears, and the threat that Sirius would tell all. She massaged her abdomen. Time, war, and Azkaban had changed him. A wand pointed at one's head mid Killing Curse or the constant presence of dementors would surely do that. He seemed almost offended that Remus would not take Sirius's place at Althea's side to care for his Althea in his absence.

"I wonder if Shipley still needs Elfrida Clagg…I have at least two of her, I think," she murmured, reading the scribbled offer for a Chocolate Frog Card on the posted scrap of parchment.

She shrugged at the bulletin board, adjusted her grip upon the basket, and headed toward the girls' dormitory staircase. It still took some effort to open the thick, wooden door to the second-year dormitory, but once inside, she felt the twinge of pleasure as she looked upon the four four-poster beds. We had five, she thought as she stepped to the center of the room. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. It still smelled as she remembered—musty, wooden, and ancient. She opened her eyes and quickly walked to the second bed. She let out a small grunt while lifting the basket—with scarlet and gold ribbon—onto the bed. She gently chewed her bottom lip. Was it too much? Would Prudence be embarrassed by such a display? She imagined Prudence throwing her head back and groaning at the basket or feverishly muttering a flustered response as to the senders of the basket.

Althea tugged at the shiny scarlet ribbon. "I'll blame her father," she murmured and smiled.

She peered inside the basket at the wrapped cakes and sweets, surely to be gone by evening's end, to the small box Sirius insisted that she place. She lifted the small box, nestled among Chocoballs and Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, and held it before her. It was very tempting to untie the gold ribbon and peek inside, but she didn't dare do so.

"You are, by far, the luckiest little girl," she whispered, her gaze lingering upon the box.

She returned the box to the basket and smoothed the bedclothes. Once finished, she turned to her right—to the empty bed before her…Lily's bed. She could almost see the girl with dark red hair with the impish grin and pink polyester pajamas. Her thoughts were filled to the moments when either girl would ask if the other was awake, and they would conduct their nightly talks in giggles and whispers. Never, in those late night conversations of giggling preteen girls, did they think of lives lost, families torn apart, and of empty and broken promises.

Althea rested her hand upon the cool, wooden bedpost. "May you never experience heartache," she whispered, her eyes seeming to look through the empty bed. "I miss you, Lily."

Swallowing, she let her hand drop from the bedpost, and without hesitancy, exited the dormitory. As her footsteps echoed on the stone steps, she wished that Sirius would be at the bottom of the stairs to greet her and banish those feelings of loneliness. He would be an absolute idiot, she thought, and that Fat Lady would never let him enter…not after what he put her through.

"Hello, lovely."

Althea stopped mid-step and looked up. There, at the bottom of the stairs, his hands in his robe pockets—his look one of casual arrogance—stood her Sirius. Her neck flushed with warmth as his gaze traveled up her figure. He grinned, and she felt her lips do the same.

"What are you doing here?" she breathed.

He shrugged. "Had to apologize to the Fat Lady," he said and winked.

Althea hopped off the bottom step and leapt into his arms. She buried her face against his neck, giggling, as he twirled her around the common room. Laughing, she begged him to stop and he—with a teasing groan—reluctantly complied. Dizzy, she blinked to correct herself. She pulled away from him slightly and, rather pleased with himself, he pinched her nose.

"Oh," he said, fully pulling away from her, "I have something for you." He frowned as he rummaged through his robe pockets. He let out a small noise of triumph. "Here," he said, producing a small, carefully wrapped box.

Althea took it in her hands and tugged at the scarlet ribbon.

"For your office," he said and nodded toward the gift.

"For my office?" she murmured, untying the ribbon.

Althea removed the box top and gasped. There, in a simple black picture frame, was their first family portrait. Prudence—in her Hogwarts uniform—proudly stood between Althea and Sirius on the lawns of Northfield. Althea blinked rapidly as her tears obscured the happy faces. She smiled at Sirius in the photograph—his expression whole—leaned to kiss Althea's cheek, and Prudence stuck out her tongue. She brought the picture frame closer to her. That we will have more like this, she thought, feeling as though her chest would burst.

"Thank you," she murmured, not taking her eyes of the photograph.

Sirius pried her hand from the picture frame. "Always," he said and kissed her fingers. "Come on," he said and tugged at her hand.

Althea, still enamored with the photograph, followed Sirius up the staircases to the seventh-year boys' dormitory. He sighed happily as he opened the door, pulling Althea forward into the room. She wrinkled her nose at the scent of perpetual teenage boy: Dungbombs, Quidditch uniforms, and snuck Firewhiskey. Still, for a seventeen-year-old girl, with an invitation to Sirius Black's bed during a Hogsmeade trip, it was intoxicating. You'd think the house-elves could scrub that out, wouldn't you, she questioned as Sirius—oblivious to the odor—his reminiscing, smiling face turning in all directions, led her further into the room.

He sighed happily once more. "Such happy memories."

"You forget how it ended—"

"I wanted to be the only one," he said plainly, looking into her eyes. "I thought you—" He sighed, shook his head, and smiled. "I just wanted it to be perfect."

Althea nodded. "It was," she murmured and kissed his lips. "My quarters?"

Sirius pulled her close to him, his parted lips intermingled with her own, ignoring her offer. His kisses were eager, but sweet, and she found it difficult to disregard his gentle, but persistent, coaxing toward the four-poster bed. Giggling, she flung herself back onto the bed—the bedclothes fluffing up around her. Sirius, too, joined her upon the bed, but crawled toward the headboard. He pushed away the fluffy down pillows and chuckled.

"I wonder how many have tried to remove this?"

Althea crawled next to him. She slowly smiled as her fingers traced, SB + AM. She remembered the March afternoon when Sirius scratched their initials into the headboard. She had warned him about defacing school property, but he didn't care. He made it permanent. She fell in love with that recklessness. She kissed his cheek, and pulling away, she noticed a mischievous, hungry glint in his eyes. She felt a jolt of adrenaline.

"McGonagall could catch us," she whispered as Sirius—his kisses upon her neck, slow and deliberate—guided her onto her back.

She closed her eyes, inhaling the warm, spicy scent of his skin. She bit her bottom lip as his fingers grazed the silver clasp of her robes at her waist. He lifted his fingers, the silken fabric slid and tumbled from the clasp, and exposed her warm skin to the cool air of the room. She opened her eyes and let out a small gasp at his moist lips against her cooled skin. Her fingertips sank between his smooth locks of hair, grasping and releasing, in response—Sirius smiled against her. Her eyes drifted upward, and she furrowed her brow at the burgundy canopy—at the strange, surreal feeling it evoked.

Sirius paused, and propped himself up with his hands on either side of her shoulders. "What?" he whispered, thick locks of black hair fell against his eyelashes and fluttered when he blinked. "Afraid of a little detention?"

He never seemed to care, did he? She smoothed the locks of hair from his face, but they immediately fell forward once more.

Althea teasingly pouted. "You promise we won't get caught?"

He smiled crookedly as he pushed her lip up with his thumb. "I promise."

THE END

AN: Thank you so much for deciding to read this story. Thank you to all who have left comments, reviews, and messages. I've enjoyed reading them all. I hope you have enjoyed this story as much as the others. I began to write this story, the entire Althea story, just for myself. I decided to post it and I was surprised and pleased that others would want to read about her, her adventures, and all the characters. I thought I would end it at Shown Like the Sun, but there was still more to be told. I had to write about Prudence. I hope you have enjoyed this latest story as I have enjoyed writing it. Please, do not hesitate to leave a review, comment, or question.

The Bitter Root is the fourth installment (I'm not prepared to just call it 'series' yet...). Two paranoid prisoners of Azkaban, conspiracy within the Ministry, and possibly the key to destroy Voldemort.