Author's Note: I'm back! Yay! This is the sequel to "When A Phoenix Cries: Hermione" and the companion fic "When A Phoenix Cries: Severus". Read at least Hermione's POV fic first or this will be really confusing.

Content Warning: Rated M for violence, adult language and themes, and sexual situations. Please note, that I DO NOT plan on having any explicit sexual scenes (lemons, smut, etc) in this fic. There will be intimate moments, but nothing too graphic. Sorry if you find that disappointing, but I don't think that would work well in this story.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all affiliated characters, themes, settings, etc. belong to J. K. Rowling. I am most certainly not that brilliant woman and I therefore make no money from this story. At all. I get reviews though, so it's all good. Please note that this disclaimer applies to this story in its entirety even if it is not noted in every chapter.

And I MUSTN'T forget to acknowledge my brilliant beta, bluefirefly5. Even if I briefly did... This fic would not be what it is without her pointing out all those pertinent questions I sometimes forget to answer, or those little caveats I may otherwise mistake. So THANK YOU bluefirefly5. I could not do it without you.

And so begins...

When A Phoenix Cries

Part II: Old Magic

Chapter I: Familiarus

~.~.{H.*.G}.~.~

25 November 1977 – Friday

I discreetly flexed and relaxed the muscles in my feet and legs, struggling to keep my blood flowing enough to avoid nodding off while I sat at my own little desk in the corner of Albus' office, enchanted quill taking notes in front of me. It was a little after seven in the morning according to the standup clock adjacent to me. I'd been sitting in this annoyingly hard chair for almost four hours, and I'd been up late meditating, meaning that I'd had approximately three hours of sleep. But I couldn't start nodding now. I absolutely could not.

The headmaster's office had been in flux with most of the elder Order members since I'd arrived, and the atmosphere had been tense to say the very least. Truly, considering the context of the discussions taking place in front of me, the fact that I could feel drowsy at all suggested that I was rather more inured to this sort of thing than was probably healthy.

"The child was completely Obliviated," Fabian Prewett was explaining to Albus now, his tone even more grim than the set of his mouth. The ghosts behind his eyes suggested that it had not been a pretty sight. "The healers in the Janus Thickey ward are hopeful that, given her age, they'll be able to reverse the damage with six to twelve months of work."

Albus nodded, his eyes about as grave as I'd seen them, but they were far from the dull desperation in the younger man's eyes. Albus, as always, was plotting. "The young are very resilient," he said gently.

Fabian sighed wearily, brushing a hand across his face. "She's the same age as Charlie," he almost whispered, and I felt a pang of sympathy. Of course he'd be comparing the girl to his nephew. And, no doubt, the girl's now deceased parents to Molly and Arthur.

The floo flared, a frequent occurrence this morning, and Alastor stepped out. He'd been recruited two weeks ago, which was a relief, as I'd been getting the feeling that he'd started to consider offering his services to Albus, which would have been a bit tricky to explain adequately as Alek couldn't speak of the Order to him. Not directly.

The auror took in the room with his usual scrutiny, cutting just a brief glance in my direction before turning his full focus to Albus. Alastor looked exhausted, though he was evidently set on ignoring that. "Most of the muggles didn't see anything worth knowing," he announced after taking in the mood of the room. "Well, the live ones."

It was an effort not to send him a disapproving glower at his off-handed remark, but since Albus and the Order still knew nothing about my secret lessons in Occlumency, I let it pass. It wouldn't do to appear too familiar with the auror.

"What have you learned?" Albus asked calmly, gesturing for Alastor to have a seat.

The auror eyed the chair next to Fabian, then drew it a few more inches away before sitting. "From what I've pieced together, Voldemort and six to twelve Death Eaters apparated into the village around nine-thirty last night. They started with the wizarding families, the muggleborn first, and then the half-blood. The muggles seem to have been chosen by whoever was handiest. The 'celebration'," he growled that word, somewhat making up for his flippancy concerning the dead muggles, "lasted until about one o'clock this morning. The death toll right now is at five witches and wizards and twenty-three muggles, but considering the state of the bodies, that's still a guess."

Fabian grimaced, "Honestly, Professor, should a student be present to hear this?"

Albus frowned with only a brief glance at me. "Unfortunately, Fabian, Hermione has seen enough of Voldemort's handiwork that the events of last night cannot shock her."

The expression in Fabian's eyes when he turned them on me again was vaguely horrified, but I barely noted it. I was far too distracted by what Albus had said. "Hermione". It was the first time the headmaster had ever called me by my given name. No doubt it was meant to encourage familiarity between myself and the elder Order members, but Albus rarely had a single motive. The rather brief but significant little twinkle he'd sent my way once Fabian and Alastor had looked at me, certainly suggested that he had, in fact, meant for me to take something from it. But what, exactly?

And, more importantly, what other method lay beneath the casually extended gesture?

I was getting a headache.

The floo flared again, and Arthur Weasley stumbled into the room, his face white, his eyes wide in panic.

I barely noted that I'd risen to my feet along with everyone else in the room.

"Arthur, what's happened?" Albus inquired tightly when the gasping man failed to speak.

"It's Molly," he croaked. "She's missing."

My heart stuttered painfully. Part of my mind instantly began insisting that she would be fine. She had to be fine. She certainly hadn't died in 1977, so she absolutely had to be alive. Another part was arguing that I may have changed enough to have led to her death. Not Molly, oh Gods, NOT MOLLY! Yet another part of my mind was gibbering. If Molly died now… She was pregnant with Fred and George! They'd die too. Ron and Ginny would never even be born! I could lose four friends and their mother all at once.

I wrenched up my Occlumency shields, shoving Hope, Fear, and Panic back into a dark corner of my mind and walling it off. They were still there, of course. I was far from a master at this, but it did help.

As I drew myself away from the edge of fainting, I realized that Arthur had been guided into a chair. Fabian looked about as sick as I felt, his hands clenched white-knuckle in his lap, his jaw quivering very slightly while he watched Alastor trying to get Arthur to drink some tea.

And Albus was looking at me. He'd reclaimed his seat and was staring at me very meaningfully.

I opened my journal where it sat in front of me on the desk, and as calmly as I was able, began writing.

-I have no knowledge of this event, but she did not die in my timeline.-

I closed the journal and Albus casually opened his own while everyone else was distracted. He glanced at it briefly, and I saw the tension around his eyes relax very slightly. He then began speaking to Arthur, drawing from him one hesitant, stuttered word at a time, an explanation of what had happened.

Evidently, Arthur had just returned home after spending the night helping with the muggles in the village that had been targeted, and he'd found evidence of a struggle, and Molly gone. Molly had taken the children to her parents' house when the Order had learned that something was brewing among the Death Eater ranks. It had been done so that Molly would be able to provide more assistance to the Order, but it had evidently served to protect them. Arthur had gone immediately to check on them when he found Molly gone, and he'd learned that she'd not been back there, though the children were all fine.

Albus extracted and viewed the memory of exactly what Arthur had found when he'd arrived at the Burrow, and the headmaster had come out of the pensieve looking grimmer than ever. For a long moment, he sat in silent thought. Finally, he spoke calmly, "Alastor, Fabian, please return to the Burrow with Arthur. I may be able to locate Molly if you can bring me a small vial of blood from your youngest child, Arthur, from each of her parents, and from you, Fabian and Gideon as well if possible."

My eyes widened slightly as I realized what Albus was talking about, but I remained silent until the others had departed. "The Familiarus ritual?" I inquired quietly.

Albus raised an eyebrow in my direction. "You're familiar with it?"

"I've read about it," I allowed. It had been in the book that Severus had given me for my birthday. It was blood magic. A very old and very rare blood ritual. Merely casting it would be breaking at least twelve Ministry laws, even with the willing participation of the blood donors.

He looked intrigued by that bit of insight. "I see," he murmured thoughtfully. "And your thoughts on the matter?"

"Who do you have in mind for the catalyst?" I asked flatly, fairly convinced that I knew the answer.

Albus stared at me for a moment, before quietly replying, "I will ensure that no permanent harm comes to him."

I closed my eyes briefly as I absorbed that. "I want to be there," I said in a tone that brooked no argument.

"You do not trust me?" he inquired mildly.

"I believe that you will stand by your word, sir," I admitted, "but you've only offered to protect him from physical harm. I want to be there as… moral support. I did recruit him, after all. I can't help but feel some responsibility. And we both know that he is a bit… fragile at the moment."

Albus nodded thoughtfully. "I'm pleased to see that you take such interest. How much do you know about the ritual?"

"I could probably cast it if I had to," I admitted, then amended, "If my magic were functioning properly."

He looked pleased to hear that. "Very well. You'd best head to breakfast now. I'll prepare the ritual for this evening in the forest. High moon, I think."

I nodded grimly, slipped my journal into my bag, and left the headmaster's office. I didn't have much appetite considering that Molly could be dead or dying even as I tucked into eggs and sausage, but I knew that I was going to need my strength. This was going to be a very long day.

~.~.{S.*.S}.~.~

I arrived in the Great Hall for breakfast to find Hermione already eating, which was a bit surprising. She usually rose a bit later than me in the morning – when we didn't share a bed. I took my seat at her side and my concern grew sharply when I got a good look at her face. There were circles under her eyes and her skin was a shade paler than normal.

"What's wrong?" I asked when her tremulous smile cemented my concern.

The attempted smile slipped away as though it had never been. She opened her mouth as if to answer, then closed it again.

With a sigh, I cast a quick Muffliato, and tried again, "What's wrong, Hermione?"

"Molly Weasley has gone missing," she replied, her eyes fixed on her plate as she continued to eat at a pace that was measured enough to appear slightly forced. "The evidence suggests that she may have been taken."

My stomach dropped and I vaguely wondered how Hermione had any appetite at all. Mine had surely deserted me in response to those two sentences. I didn't really know Molly Weasley at all, but I knew that she was a member of the Order, and not all that much older than us.

"Albus has a way to find her," she continued in that same quiet, toneless voice. "It might work," she added with little apparent conviction. "There was a… raid last night," she went on after a moment of silence in which I attempted, with little success, to conjure the will to eat something. "A small village. Something like thirty dead. Don't be surprised if Alek and Minerva are a bit touchy today. None of us have had much sleep."

My mouth tightened reflexively. It bothered me the way that Hermione tended to lump herself in with the older Order members. Of course, it was essentially accurate. That much had become very clear to me in the last three weeks. I knew that the headmaster was in direct contact with her at least once a day just from my own observations of her habits regarding that journal. She was also summoned up to his office two or three times a week, sometimes for more than an hour. She'd confided to me that the time was spent mostly in observing debriefings from various Order members. Dumbledore, evidently, could not manage them without his "record keeper" present.

Hermione believed that the headmaster was doing it to get the older Order members accustomed to her constant presence. Again, it seemed to come back to whatever he was grooming her towards after graduation. I couldn't help but think that it was interfering with her studies. Between practicing her magic, dealing with sleepless nights brought on by nightmares, and trying to keep up with seven NEWT level classes, she had quite enough to be worried about without acting the part of a full member of the Order of the Phoenix as well.

Not that I could say any of that to Dumbledore or Hermione, of course. He'd just smile benignly and change the subject, I was certain. She would not appreciate my interference. It was quite obvious that she did not resent the added responsibilities. Quite the contrary. She devoted herself quite studiously to her Order duties. Though she was generally forthcoming with me about what all she did – at least she didn't often tell me that she couldn't tell me things – but I still found the situation difficult.

"Are you okay?" I asked warily, covering her free hand with mine.

She stared blankly at her plate for a moment before shaking her head and taking another bite. "There's nothing more that I can do now, though," she admitted after swallowing the bite. "I have to trust in Albus to find her," and that sentence seemed to leave a bitter taste in her mouth, which she attempted to wash down with a swig of juice. She stared at her mostly empty plate a moment longer, then pushed it away, where it promptly vanished.

"I'll see you in Potions," she said quietly, gripping my arm gently while she leaned in to kiss my lips lightly.

"Okay," I said grimly as she got up. I wanted to do more to comfort her, but I couldn't imagine what that might be.

~.~.{H.*.G}.~.~

I settled down in my meditation room, and set to work trying to organize my troubled thoughts into some kind of workable pattern. It was far more difficult than usual as my mind was repeatedly invaded by an awful image of Molly Weasley surrounded by masked Death Eaters and the sickeningly attractive Dark Lord of this time.

Finally, I was forced to occlude my mind. I sifted my fears back away from my surface thoughts and drew up my walls. Traditionally, Occluding was accomplished by creating walls within the mind constructed of an absence of thought. If these walls were strong enough, a person could then prevent a Legilimens from accessing any thoughts concealed beneath or behind those walls.

I had discovered over the summer that I personally did not seem capable of attaining the proper degree of mental blankness to create a suitable shield. With some experimentation, however, I found that there was more than one way to Occlude. My shields were built of a presence of thought rather than an absence. I pictured it as a swarm of bees darting about madly within a golden cloud that bore more than a passing resemblance to the physical manifestation of my unformed magic. Each bee was a thought, but even if a Legilimens were able to make sense of them individually, none were anything that couldn't be found in reference books common to any wizarding library in Britain. Potions ingredients and properties, arithmantic tables and formulae, ancient magical history, Hogwarts: A History, cover to cover (1976 edition, of course), more than two thousand laws and bylaws of the British Ministry that I had somehow crammed into my head over the years, and much, much more. Just random bits of knowledge unattached to any memories. All together, they did rather buzz like a swarm of bees.

Once my mind was drifting freely within the dense cloud of trivia, my anxiety drifted away, and I discovered a level of focus I had never before reached in my meditation. I had never before considered trying to Occlude while meditating – it certainly was never mentioned in the book Albus had given me – but it really seemed to make a big difference in just how deeply into my meditation I was able to go.

I felt my magic rise like a comfortable heat in the center of my chest, and I allowed it to build there until the heat became a flame, and then an inferno, but it did not become uncomfortable – just… intense. Finally, I released the mitigating control that was containing it within my chest, and I felt it flood outward, encompassing the whole of my body in that wonderful warmth.

Finally, I opened my eyes. And immediately squinted against the sudden intensity of the light in the room.

Holding carefully to the balance of the magic within me, I stood and turned to face the mirrored wall.

My jaw drooped as I took in the sight that was reflected back to me. My entire body, right down to the strands of my hair, was shining with brilliant golden light that seemed to radiate from within my skin. My eyes, shone brighter still, the warm brown color completely eclipsed by blinding golden light.

A small murmur of alarm escaped my lips, and my concentration faltered. The light flared, dimmed, and flared again, and my Occlumency shields collapsed.

The magic that I had been controlling suddenly surged wildly, and exploded from me with a brilliant flash.

Instinctively, I fell into a crouch and shielded my face with my arms as the sound of shattering glass filled the room, accompanied by a deafening BOOM.

Trembling, I lifted my head warily to find the room was in ruins. Tiny shards of shattered mirror were everywhere – except on me, as not one tiny speck seemed to have touched me. The walls, floor, and ceiling of the room were all spider webbed with cracks.

~.~.{S.*.S}.~.~

Hermione had been right. Alek looked exhausted. There were dark circles under his grim eyes, and his skin looked a touch too pale. Of course, he conducted the class with the same combination of patience and stern disregard for foolishness that he always had. It was possible that I only noticed the difference in him because Hermione had warned me, but it was there.

We were working on casting the patronus charm today. It wasn't something that was generally taught at Hogwarts at all considering just how advanced it was. I'd been the only one in the room not surprised when Alek had announced our focus, though I had done my best to act like I was. Hermione had been the one to suggest that Alek try to teach it to more than the Order class. She'd pointed out to me that even a non-corporeal patronus could save lives. Evidently, the Order feared that the Dark Lord may recruit Dementors.

Not surprisingly, the greatest success in the room was from those of us in the Order, who'd already been practicing this charm last week. We had all managed at least a non-corporeal patronus thus far. Potter had managed a half-formed patronus that looked like a deer of some kind. Sirius was scowling at the faint silvery mist coming from his own wand, his irritation with his limited success almost certainly proving a detriment to his efforts. Lupin wore an expression of deepest concentration as he managed something defined just enough to be identified as quadrupedal. Longbottom and Ferris had both managed a decently strong silver mist, but nothing more.

Beyond the Order members, Lily had a faint, but fully formed doe trotting circles around her groups of friends. Her delighted smile, I realized, had considerably less effect on me than it would have last year. Peter was devoting most of his attention to praising the achievements of his friends, and had yet to manage anything of his own. Narcissa occasionally managed a faint burst of mist. Lucius, his face fixed into a calm but incredibly focused expression, was managing something just slightly more than mist, but not defined enough to begin to make out a form within. He was ignoring his collected goons entirely, as they utterly failed to produce anything at all.

"Mr. Snape," Alek's quiet voice intruded on my assessment of my classmates, and I turned to face him. "Are you going to cast the spell?" he asked with a smile that touched only his eyes.

"Yes, sir," I said quietly, focusing as I lifted my wand. I drew on the happiest memory that I had. The first moment when I'd really understood that Hermione actually did want to be with me. I threw myself into the memory, let it consume me with that wonder and elation. "Expecto patronum!"

With a flash of brilliant silver light a very large winged form leapt from my wand. Three rapid flaps of wings at least two meters across, and the very large bird began to sore circles around the room, over the heads of the suddenly silent class. I stared in wonder at the first full manifestation of a corporeal patronus that I'd managed. It was… brighter than I'd expected. After two turns around the room, the bird landed in front of me, nipped my hand affectionately, and vanished.

After a moment, I managed to look at the professor again. He actually looked shocked, which was a look I'd never seen on his face before. It took him only a moment to regain his composure, turning to address my classmates, who I realized, were all staring at me.

"That, boys and girls, was a perfect example of a fully corporeal patronus," he announced with a slight smirk on his lips.

Potter, I noticed, was staring at me with undisguised hatred. Lupin looked impressed. Black, annoyed. Lily… I quickly tore my eyes away from the slightly shy look of pride that she was sending my way. Lucius, I noticed was watching me thoughtfully, as though he'd just discovered an interesting new puzzle. It was a look very much like those he often directed at Hermione. I wasn't quite sure what to make of that.

"Well, back to work!" Moody barked at the room in general. As the noise level began to rise with various expecto patronum'sagain, he added, more quietly, "Well done, lad."

I smiled in return, still vaguely amazed at my own success. I had just lifted my wand to try it again when a distant rumble shook the entire room. I quickly grabbed the nearest desk to steady myself as the chandelier rattled ominously overhead.

It lasted only a moment, but it was incredibly unnerving. In almost six and a half years at Hogwarts, I'd never felt anything like that before. I looked at the professor to find him frowning with concern for just a second before he wiped his face clear, projecting unconcern. "All right, settle down!" he barked over the rising exclamations as the students began to speculate about the disturbance. "If there's any reason to be concerned, we'll be informed about it. Until then, you've got a charm to practice!"

~.~.{A.*.D}.~.~

Albus frowned at the scrolls spread open across his desk. The Familiarus ritual was not overly complex, but it was power-intensive. Historically, the ritual was usually carried out by a circle of five, seven, or even thirteen individuals. The minimum reference he had been able to find was for a circle of three. He had no doubt that he could manage it individually, but putting that much power into the spell was going to be exhausting, and he'd be very vulnerable while the spell was active. While he may very well be leading others right into a battle.

Alek and Minnie could fill out a circle with him, but explaining the ritual would take time. And he wasn't entirely sure how either of them would fare after that kind of magical drain. They were both highly skilled, but this ritual required raw power. Edgar Bones was probably the strongest Order member for power alone, but Albus wasn't sure how the man would respond to this kind of ritual. The Hufflepuff really was better suited to administrative type duties than anything that walked the line between light and dark.

Regulus Black would serve as a powerful catalyst with his somewhat distant relation to Molly Weasley strengthening his position. With any luck, the Dark Mark on his arm would help passively provide added power as well. And there was something rather poetic about Tom's own magic being used against him. Of course, he'd have to Obliviate the boy when he was done, lest Tom investigate the unexplained draw and discover Mr. Black's willing participation. A temporary Obliviate should do the job…

Albus sighed heavily. He'd have to do the ritual himself. He couldn't afford to have two of his professors magically drained. He'd be sure to bring Filius though. If there was anyone who may be able to hold out if Tom showed up, it would be Filius.

Albus was shaken from his thoughts as an echoing BOOM rattled his office. Fawkes squawked in alarm from his perch, and the Hogwarts wards shuddered beneath the force of the magic that had caused the disturbance.

Albus was on his feet in an instant, his magic reaching out to the wards as he felt along them for the point of origin while they settled down once more. He was sweeping past the gargoyle guarding his tower when he determined that the detonation that had shaken the entire school had come from the Room of Requirement. His pace quickened further as he immediately guessed at the source. There was only one person likely to be in the Come and Go Room at this hour.

Indeed, he was just rounding the corner into the appropriate corridor when he saw Hermione Wilkins closing the door behind her. She appeared a bit shaken, but uninjured. She blinked up at him as he approached.

"Come with me," he said quietly, turning quickly and returning to his office with her in tow. This was certainly not a conversation that he wanted to have where anyone might overhear.

~.~.{H.*.G}.~.~

I gently closed the headmaster's office door behind me, moving to a seat in front of his desk when he motioned me toward it. I was certain that I knew why he'd shown up when he had, and what he now wished to speak to me about, but I kept my mouth shut and waited for him to speak. There was no point in giving him any information that he didn't think to ask for.

"Miss Wilkins," he said finally. Not "Hermione" this time, I noted. "What exactly happened in the Room of Requirement just now?"

"You felt that?" I asked timidly.

"I'm quite certain the entire school felt that," he replied shortly. "What happened?"

I sighed, shaking my head. "I was practicing my meditation," I admitted. "I brought more of my magic to the surface than I ever have before, and then… My concentration… slipped. Instead of harmlessly dissipating as it usually does, it just kind of… surged out of me."

"With physical force," he gathered.

I nodded warily.

He leaned back in his chair, stroking his beard as his eyes grew a bit distant. "How do you feel now?" he asked without focusing on me.

"Fine," I admitted.

He remained in silent thought for a minute or two before he spoke again. "Do you think that you have enough control to assist with the Familiarus ritual tonight?" he asked in the most casual tone.

I blinked at him, but otherwise maintained my composure while I mentally assessed the ritual in question. "You need a casting circle," I surmised.

He nodded silently.

All that I would need to do is channel my magic into the ritual while he did the more complex bits of casting. I was sure that I could manage that much – if I held onto my control. The fact that he was asking me at all was a testament to how much respect he held for my raw power. I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. "Who else will be in the circle?" I wondered.

"No one," he said, studying me with quiet intensity.

I kept my face schooled to a thoughtful expression while I considered that. Doubtless it would be exhausting with only the two of us, not that that mattered in the slightest if it brought Molly home safely. That wasn't the only concern though. "Can the ritual be completed with a 'circle' of two?" I wondered. "I didn't think it could be an even number."

He nodded, his eyes twinkling a bit in a way that made me think he was impressed that I'd noted that detail. "In general, that is true," he admitted. "I believe that we can get around it, however."

I could only think of one way to "get around it" and I didn't like it at all. It would involve my magic and his getting more up close and personal than I was really comfortable with. "Why not just include a third?" I asked, keeping myself outwardly no more than mildly curious.

He shook his head, "There are several reasons. Primarily, however, there simply is not time to prepare the ritual and explain it to another participant. You have already stated that you could probably cast the ritual, so I imagine I won't need to explain anything."

"That makes sense," I agreed peaceably. Damn. I did not want to go into this with Albus alone. There was a chance that I was worrying unnecessarily. There was also a chance that… This ritual was known to have certain… side effects on the casters. I couldn't say no. Not when Molly's life was on the line. Which left me with the choice of creating a third option. "Of course, I would have time to explain the ritual to someone."

"You have classes to get to."

I frowned at him patiently. "Sir, we both know that I'd have no difficulty making up one day of classes. I've not been ill since the incident in September. Perhaps I am due."

He studied me with an air of amused consideration. "Who would you choose to assist us?" he posed.

I pretended to think about it, though the answer jumped to mind immediately. "I would think either Professor McGonagall or Moody would suffice."

He shook his head, "I'm afraid I cannot afford to have my professors magically drained."

That seemed like a rather weak excuse to me, but I nodded as though I understood. Neither of them had actually been my first choice anyway. I affected another moment of thought while surreptitiously firming my Occlumency shields. "Hm. Well, Alastor Moody is quite powerful, is he not?"

Albus seemed to consider that. "He is," he murmured. After a moment, he nodded, "Yes. That may work. Do you believe you could prepare him in time for the ritual? We begin at five."

"It shouldn't be a problem. You did warn Remus to stay out of the forest tonight?"

His damnable eyes twinkled at that remark. "He will not venture beyond the shack tonight."

I nodded, "Where should I meet Mr. Moody?"

"I'll summon him to the castle. Why don't you go to the Room of Requirement? You can work on your control while you wait, and I'll have him join you when he arrives."

I nodded agreement and left the room.

And that's chapter 1. I do hope I've piqued your interest once more. Chapter 2 is complete and requires only a final editing. It will be posted on Friday, I believe. As to a future posting schedule, I really don't know, but I will do my best to get at least one chapter up each week. I don't foresee any more multiple-month absences until at least June, but I can make no promises given my health. Should that occur, I do promise to let you know though.

As always, I love you all, and I love to hear your thoughts. Reviews are greatly appreciated and keep my muse healthy and functional. ;-)