Y'ALL! Here is the next (and very overdue) installment of the five Marauders! More to come...

The capture of Folsom brought a temporary sense of triumph. I had still lost Sean, and the day after we had captured Folsom, I sent him a brief letter by the flickering light of a candle in the Ravenclaw Common Room.

Dear Sean,

It's over. Please don't try to contact me. I'll talk to you when I'm ready.

Amber

After composing this short, straightforward note, I attached it to Soren's pink, scaly leg in the Owlery and watched him wing away into the horizon. I wondered how long it would take my owl to deliver the letter. I wondered how Sean would react, if he would react at all.

Sean. A Dark Mark. I can't believe it.

Maybe Peter had been lying. Or maybe Sean really did have a Dark Mark. But it wouldn't have been something he would have received willing. It would have been forced upon him. I knew personally how it felt to have your willpower subdued through the power of the Dark Arts. Right now, I needed time to process not only Sean's situation, but also to allow my emotions concerning Remus to settle down. We hid Folsom in his large jar with holes in the lid in the Shrieking Shack, in the chimney of the fireplace in our meeting area. I had sealed it with an Unbreakable Charm.

Days passed without word from Sean. Every morning when the owls delivered the post, I failed to see my familiar barn owl. It seemed that everyone was receiving more letters than usual this year, mostly worried families who weren't entirely convinced that Hogwarts was safe from the ever-darkening world. My subscription to the Daily Prophet was hardly a reassurance. It was now daily news to see headlines about a Muggle murder or disappearance of a wizard or witch. Once a week, an entire family or small-scale massacre seemed to take place. All of it was blamed on the Death Eaters and Voldemort's rising and seeming unstoppable power.

I wanted to reach out to Willow and hear from her, but each time I sent her a letter, it was returned with a red hand with an index finger pointed backwards reading: RETURN TO SENDER.

It seemed that even Willow didn't want to be reached right now.

Along with physical therapy several times a week and the onslaught of homework, there wasn't much time left for spending with the other Marauders. Even though I was able to finish the heavy weight of homework on time each night, Remus informed me that Sirius, James, and Peter were all struggling to complete their assignments. James had approached Lily in hopes she would tutor him, to which she had ignored him pointedly.

"She told me I would get T's on all of my O.W.L.S.," James grumbled moodily as we sat in our Defense Against the Dark Arts class in mid-October.

"What do T's stand for?" Sirius asked as he waved his wand casually, muttering "Levicorpus" under his breath as a Ravenclaw passed by. The student was hoisted into the air by his ankle, while the class roared with laughter. I rolled my eyes. It seemed that the popular hex was going to be around for awhile.

"It means 'Troll'." I informed James tartly as I opened my textbook to page 123, a section concerning werewolves. "There's three passing grades. O for Outstanding, E for Exceeds Expectations, P for Passable, and then there's three failing grades. P for Poor, D for Dreadful, and T for Troll. I'm sure you and Sirius will make excellent male strippers. You can call yourselves the double T's."

Sirius winked at me while James sighed gustily. "You make that sound like a bad thing, Lionheart."

I shrugged as Remus sat down beside me. "I would pay you to keep your clothes on. That's all I'm saying."

"Not all of us have a six-pack like Moony," James complained.

"That's something you can remedy, you know," Remus said modestly behind his book. "There's this little thing called 'working out'. I'm surprised you two don't do it more, being Quidditch players and all."

Peter sat beside James while Lily was surrounded by several other Gryffindor fifth year girls. She was extremely popular and had no trouble finding a seat in any class. I missed having her to myself but knew she didn't like to keep company with the other Marauders, especially James and Sirius. Despite their physical growth, their emotional immaturity was borderline disgusting. They claimed they weren't bullying other students, but I knew better. They singled out several Slytherins in particular, the lone wolves and the outcasts. James appeared to be personally insulted by the fact that he had to share a whole castle with Severus, who was still friends with Lily but increasingly in the company of known Dark Arts supporters. It was getting harder and harder to justify their actions. I didn't want to admit it, but James and Sirius were bullies.

"I'm sure it's easy to get muscles when you've got an animal side," James said in frustration. He was still unable to completely become a stag. Peter had transformed fully for the first time a week ago, leaving James the last one to master the art.

"You're almost there, Prongs." Sirius reassured him as Professor Fox swept down the aisle, her gray cloak swishing behind her. The class immediately plunged into expectant silence. Professor Sylva Fox wasn't as serious as Willow nor was she as lax as Mara. Her half-moon spectacles were perched on her delicate nose as she turned and faced us, her hawk-like yellow eyes alight with mischief.

"Today, we'll be taking a pop quiz." She waved a hand dismissively at the loud groans. "Just kidding. Today, we're going to do some extra credit work. Each of you will attempt to conjure Patronuses."

The groans dropped off into stunned silence. Everyone turned to stare at each other, sure we'd heard her wrong.

"I'm sorry, Professor Fox," Lily said slowly, raising her hand. "But did you say we're going to conjure Patronuses?"

"We're certainly going to try." Professor Fox said brightly, grinning wolfishly. "When you take your O.W.L.S., there's usually a chance to earn extra credit. Besides, I've been given instructions from the Headmaster to keep you all safe from the increasing Dark activity. As you know, many dementors have left their posts at Azkaban and are now serving You-Know-Who. I believe it's only a matter of time before all of them join You-Know-Who. My job is not only to prepare you for your O.W.L.S., but also to keep your souls in your bodies." She paused, the smile fading from her now-serious face. "I will not succeed. Not with all of you."

A chill swept over me as I remembered the dementor that had entered our train compartment last year. I knew Remus, James, and Sirius could already conjure a Patronus. I hadn't been able to last year, too overcome by despair. I had only done it a handful of times, and even now, it was still difficult. I slid a glance over at Peter, who was visibly pale. Would he be able to conjure one too?

"But Professor," Lily objected, as the class began to murmur nervously, "Patronus Charms are extremely advanced magic. Even most adult wizards can't produce a corporeal Patronus. It's not easy."

"I don't need easy, Miss Evans." Professor Fox said shortly, her glasses flashing in the candlelight. "I just need possible. I believe that each and every one of you has the potential to conjure a Patronus, and some of you can even produce a corporeal Patronus. That is, to say, a Patronus that isn't vapor or smoke, but one with a defined form and shape."

The Marauders and I grinned at each other. All except for Peter, who was sweating now.

"We'll go over the wand movement first." Professor Fox indicated for us to stand up with our wands out. She circled her wand in the air. "Now, once you've got that part down, remember that the Patronus Charm is all about holding onto happiness in spite of the dementor trying to suck the life out of you. Summoning up the happiest memory you've got is a common method of holding onto your happiness. Other times people imagine joyful fantasies. Whatever makes you happy or joyful. That part isn't terrible. It'll be easy enough in a bright classroom full of excited students, but the hardest part is when you're alone, in a dark forest, by yourself, hopefully with a wand, and feeling that biting chill, knowing that if you can't be happy, you will lose your very soul…"

As Professor Fox carried on, I saw the black forest in my eyes, the night that Folsom and Greyback had laid a trap for me. I was trying to run, trying to climb, to escape the inevitable...

Then the two werewolves jumped on me, and I was being mauled… and then I was gone, more than unconscious, more than that… I had died...

"Amber?" Remus shook my shoulder gently, and I flinched. I was trembling, a dizzy feeling sweeping over me.

"What?" I asked tersely, angry at the weakness I felt, ashamed that I hadn't been able to protect myself. I glared down at my scars, a permanent reminder of the carnage I had narrowly survived. "I was just thinking."

Remus frowned, not convinced.

"Professor Fox told us to pick a corner of the room and practice." James informed me, watching me with concern. "You look sick."

"I said I'm fine!" I snarled, leaping to my feet, my blood boiling hot. Several students turned to look at me in alarm.

"Is there a problem, Miss Harkstone?" Professor Fox asked coolly.

"No." I said through clenched teeth, fighting to control my rampant temper.

"Then start practicing." Professor Fox said tartly, turning to walk through the classroom to observe. I had to fight very hard to not leap after her and attack. The animal rage shocked and sickened me.

"Amber." Sirius said in a low voice. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know." I snapped, scrubbing my face with my hands until it hurt. Remus removed my wrists.

"Too bad it's not Potions class." James remarked as we walked to a quiet corner of the classroom. "We could give her a Happiness Draught."

"Or a Cheering Charm." Sirius added. I wanted to yell at them to shut up, but before I could, Peter ambled over, looking sullen.

"What's the matter?" James asked, his grin fading away at Peter's dark expression. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Peter shook his head. "Not a ghost." He mumbled. "What are we doing today?"

"Patronuses." Sirius answered, copying James as they both ruffled up their hair to make it look windswept. A gaggle of giggling girls across the aisle watched them with rosy faces.

"I'm telling you, the last thing they need is a better physique," I muttered to Remus, who smirked and shook his head.

"Aren't we supposed to be practicing?" Remus said, his green eyes alight with mischief. At his look, heat rushed from my toes into my face, chasing away the animal rage. Helpless in the ride of my emotion, I turned away, cheeks hot, unable to keep the smile from my face.

"Are you two going to actually produce a Patronus, or just snog?" James teased, and I whipped my wand at him, shouting, "Expecto Patronum!" as the thought of kissing Remus came into my mind at his words.

The silver griffin charged at James, who ducked under a desk to the laughter of the class.

"Miss Harkstone!" Professor Fox snapped. "We do not use the Patronus Charm on fellow students! Surely I told you that?"

I shrugged. "You may have mentioned it."

Her yellow eyes flashed dangerously. "And you'll do well to remember it. Five points from Ravenclaw." She turned on her heel and stalked back up the aisle.

Knowing it was childish, I stuck my tongue out at her turned back.

"Come on, then, Pete," Sirius said bracingly. "Give it a go."

Hands trembling, Peter muttered, "Expecto… expecto patronum."

The wand emitted a few feeble puffs of vapor, then stopped.

"Come on." James urged, rising from the safety of the desk. "Think of something happy. Think of winning the House cup for Gryffindor."

"Not if I have anything to say about it." I muttered, earning a dark look from James. Peter closed his eyes and tried again.

"You've really got to picture it, Peter." Remus said encouragingly. "You must play the part. You look down to nobody. You're a hero, Peter."

Smiling, Peter tried a third time. "Expecto Patronum."

A small silver rat burst from his wand and scuttled around the air, its long wormy tail bright as stars.

"You did it!" Remus cheered. "Excellent!"

"You're a good teacher, Mr. Lupin," Professor Fox said approvingly, coming over to appraise the Patronus. "Maybe one day you'll be a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

Remus laughed. "Maybe. I don't think many parents would want someone with my condition teaching their children."

Professor Fox shrugged, aware of his lycanthropy. "I don't think that really matters, do you?"

"You'd be surprised." I said bitterly. Professor Fox raised a brow. Before she could speak, however, there was a soft knock on the door. A moment later, a woman with a long scar across her face entered the room. Her black cloak billowed out behind her as her forest green eyes landed on me, and I could hardly contain my excitement.

"Professor Smith!" James and Sirius said together. Everyone looked at our former teacher, who smiled a smile that did not quite reach her eyes. She nodded once in acknowledgement before her gaze settled back on me.

"Professor Fox," she asked coolly, "maybe I borrow Amber for a few minutes?"

Professor Fox looked like she was going to argue, but decided against it. "As long as she's back in ten minutes."

"Well, come to think of it," Willow said, frowning, "I'll take her for the rest of the period. Talk to Dumbledore if you need another voucher."

Gulping, I took my things, avoiding the looks from the other students and followed Willow out of the classroom. "Professor, what-"

"Shh." Willow said, green eyes hard as agates. "Not here. We could be watched. Come on."

"But-"

"Shh!" She kept a quick pace and I was quickly out of breath by the time we left the castle grounds. As soon as we passed the boundary, Willow took my arm and Disapparated. We touched down in front of the Three Broomsticks a second later. I gasped, feeling as though I had left my insides back at Hogwarts.

"Sorry to be brusque, Amber, but this is important." Willow apologized as she lead me away from the merry light streaming out from the Three Broomsticks. She pushed open the rusty, filthy door of the Hog's Head. Except for the grizzled bartender, there was only one other occupant: a heavily scarred man with dark blue eyes who sat at a booth with dusty sunlight glowing on the tabletop. Willow sat beside me, boxing me in. The scarred man was drinking a mug of frothy liquid, and I was sure it wasn't butterbeer. Maybe firewhiskey, or something stronger.

"Amber, this is my partner, Alastor Moody." Willow introduced, nodding at the scarred man who grunted. He reminded me of Professor Kettleburn with his gruffness.

"You're Walter's girl." Moody grunted. Uneasy, I nodded once.

"Are you sure we're safe to talk here?" Willow asked Moody quietly.

"I checked three times, Willow." Moody growled. "It's only us and Aberforth."

Aberforth. That must be the name of the bartender.

"What's this all about?" I asked hesitantly. I wondered if I was going to be in trouble because of my status as an unregistered Animagus and gulped.

Moody fixed me with a penetrating stare. His scars were even more pronounced than mine or Remus's. I wondered if he was a werewolf.

"Have you ever killed anyone?" I blurted.

Moody stared at me. "Have you?"

My blood turned to ice water as Angelina's pale face flashed in my mind, her empty gray eyes open and gazing at nothing, her body horribly and eternally still.

"Enough, Alastor," Willow snapped. "This isn't an interrogation."

Moody shrugged, taking a swig from his flask. "That's your own choice, Willow. To me, anyone could be an impostor. How do you know this is the real Amber Harkstone?"

Willow rolled her eyes, annoyed. "Amber," she said in an irritated voice, "what is your Patronus?"

"A griffin." I answered at once. Willow gave Moody a scathing look. "See?"

Moody grunted. "Constant vigilance. There's no way to be completely sure."

"We don't have time to indulge your paranoia, old man," Willow said exasperatedly, but a small smile twitched on her lips, and I saw the same amusement in Moody's blue eyes. When Willow looked at me, I glanced at Moody and saw for the second time in my life the unguarded, helpless look in his face. The softness in his blue eyes confirmed what I had suspected: Moody was in love with his partner, Willow.

Did Willow share his affections, or was she still in love with Tom Riddle?

"Amber," Willow said firmly, "did you hear me?"

"Huh?" I blinked, feeling foolish. "Sorry. I was thinking about something."

"This is a waste of time." Moody muttered.

"Amber," Willow said, tossing her partner a sardonic look, "we've asked to meet you here because we've been tracking Mackenzie Folsom for awhile now. And we believe we've found him."

My brows lifted in mock surprise. "Oh?"

Willow cuffed me lightly on the arm. "Enough with the sass. This is serious. Alastor told me you tried to send me a letter a few weeks ago. Unfortunately, I was in the field and didn't receive it, so he sent it back to you."

"Why?" I asked suspiciously, glancing at Moody.

"Protocol." Alastor said. "And whoever sent it put a damn good Sealing Charm on it. I couldn't open it."

I grinned sheepishly. "I did that. Only Willow can open it."

Moody whistled softly. "And you're a fifth year?"

Glowing, I nodded. "Yes."

Moody rolled his eyes. "I could do that by the end of my second year. You've got a long ways to go before you're anything special, Harkstone."

I stared at him, deflated like a popped balloon. Willow made a noise of annoyance in her throat.

"Don't mind him, Amber. Alastor forgot to take his medicine this morning."

"I'm always this grouchy."

"Trust me, I know." Willow passed a hand over her face. "Anyway, Amber. I've been tracking Mackenzie, and I ended up here for obvious reasons. Mackenzie has been here, hasn't he?"

I began to sweat. I had promised the other Marauders that I would keep this a secret, but this was Willow. I had to tell her. And I hadn't taken an Unbreakable Vow, so I was safe.

I exhaled slowly. "Alright… I'll tell you. It's safe here, right?"

"Triple-checked it myself." Moody grunted. "Out with it."

I explained to them how we had found Mackenzie in Animagus form and captured him. "We don't really know what to do with him right now." I finished lamely.

"Where is he now?" Willow asked, green eyes very bright. "Is he secret? Is he hidden?"

"As far as I know." I said, taken aback at her intensity. "He's in a jar in the Shrieking Shack."

"Is someone guarding him?" Willow demanded.

"No." I said slowly. "We didn't think he needed to be guarded. No one goes near the Shack."

Willow and Moody exchanged a look. "We need to go right away." Willow said abruptly, rising and tossing a few coins on the table. Aberforth watched us silently.

"Wait!" I got up and tripped on the grimy bench. "Why are you in such a hurry? He's not going to get out."

"You're a fool, Amber." Willow said, shaking her head. I stopped, frozen. Shame and hurt washed over me.

"What?" I asked weakly, feeling like I'd been slapped. "Willow, I…"

But she hurried on. I stood for a moment, unsure of whether to follow or remain at the Hog's Head. I could feel Aberforth's gaze trained on me, and couldn't bear it. I hurried after Moody and Willow.

"Wait!" I exclaimed. "Let me show you where he is."

Reluctantly, Willow and Moody allowed me to take the lead. We sprinted towards the distant shape of the Shack. All three of us had drawn our wands like swords. Before I could use my wand to blast aside the gate that hung on its hinges, Moody had beaten me to it. The gate was obliterated in a shower of splinters as the three of us charged into the building after Willow cast a well-aimed spell that made the door burst open.

The air was thick and close inside. All of us lit out wands as we hurried up the stairs to our meeting area. The last meeting of the Marauders was evident, with the half-eaten muffins and tarts still in their basket on the table and a few spell books still laying open on the table. I hurried over to the hearth and reached upwards, expecting to find a jar.

There wasn't one.

My heart began to pound sickeningly in my ears. Drawing back, I hastened around the room. I looked at them wildly, my stomach sinking.

"His jar it was hidden in the chimney."

"Go ahead." Moody said gravely. "Use the Summoning Charm."

Feeling sicker with each passing second, I raised my wand. "Accio Jar." I said in a shaking voice.

The jar flew into my hand from behind the broken baby grand piano. The lid was missing.

"I thought I could begin to trust your judgment," Willow said in a quiet voice, full of disappointment. "But it looks like I was wrong."

The jar was empty. Folsom was gone.