In mid-August, in the heart of Hogwarts Castle, a group of witches and wizards were crowded into the Potions classroom.  They had been meeting all evening, a very secretive meeting, regarding the newly risen Voldemort and the growing power of his Death Eaters.  All the regular faces were there, including the entire faculty, Arabella Figg, Mad-Eye Moody, Mundungus Fletcher, Arthur and Molly Weasley, and many more.

            "Dumbledore."  It was Arabella Figg.  She was a tiny woman, well into the later years of her life, while looking very able to take on anyone who approached her.  "Albus, I was wondering where O'Shaughnessy is?  I should think that under the circumstances-"

            "Christopher is dead, Arabella," someone in the crowd called out.  "You're losing your mind again."

            "I know that," she sneered, clutching her wand.  "I mean his daughter."  She looked back up at Dumbledore.  "She helped us after Chris died, tracking You-Know-Who.  Exactly like her father, Albus.  Perhaps more powerful."

            "I know, Arabella.  I had a similar thought not long ago.  Moira has relocated to the United States, and quite possibly has no idea what has happened here.  Arthur Weasley has located her through the Ministry.  I am contacting her as we speak."

            A low murmur spread through the room.  From where he stood, Dumbledore could hear the questions.  Would she come back?  Everyone knew her history, and no one could blame her for leaving, but would she return when she was needed?

            Dumbledore's own thoughts mirrored these.  He had sent her an owl, but received no reply.  At this moment, Remus Lupin was on his way to visit her personally.  If she did not return, at least she would be forewarned of what was happening

Lupin leaned across a large wooden counter, trying to find someone who could help him.  A small woman approached and examined him through a pair of cat-eye spectacles.

            "Yes, I'm looking for a woman I heard might be here."

            "I'm sorry, we do not give out student information."

            "No, I believe she may be a professor."  He smiled.  "She's an old school chum.  I thought I'd look her up while I was in the States."

            The woman sat in a chair and peered at a computer monitor.  She pressed several keys on her keyboard.

            "Name?" she asked, without looking up.

            "Moira O'Shaughnessy."

            "Spell her last name, please."

            She typed the letters as Lupin said them.

 "Hmm," she peered closely at the screen.  "No, sorry.  Are you sure you spelled if right?  That sounds like a lot of letters for that name."

            "Yes, I'm sure."

            "Maybe she's married.  Changed her last name?"

            "I hadn't even thought of that."  It had been nearly fifteen years.

            The secretary smiled at him.

            "Ex-boyfriend?"

            "No.  Old friends.  We lost touch some years ago, and I heard she was here."

            "Nope, sorry.  Do you know what department she might be in?"

            "No, do you have any Irish-born professors here?"

            She looked at him over her glasses.

            "You kidding me?"

            Remus shook his head.

            "Look, I'm sorry, but we have hundreds of professor's on staff.  Unless you have something else to go on, I really can't help you.  I only have so many ways to search for someone."

            "Do you know anyone that can help me?  It's very important.  I must get in touch with her."

            "You're sure she's here?  We have several satellite campuses.  She could be at any one."

            "No, I'm positive.  I have it from a very reliable source."

            "Reliable sources have been known to be wrong."

"Do you have some sort of a directory I can see?  With the faculty's pictures?"

            "Is it that important?"

            "It is urgent."

            The woman disappeared into an office and returned several moments later carrying a very thick book. 

            "This book contains the professional information for the entire faculty.  I can't guarantee the accuracy of the pictures.  Most of them haven't had a picture taken since '79."  She passed the book to him.  "You can sit over there and look through it."

            Lupin sat in the wooden chair she had pointed to and balanced the large book on his knee.  Slowly, he began flipping through at random, hoping someone jumped out at him.  Most of the photos were of men his old age, but the clothes they were wearing, he knew, had been popular when he was in school.  He flipped a few more pages, glancing at each picture and dismissing them quickly.  He scanned the next page and stopped, laying his finger on a picture.

            Moira.  She was looking straight at him.  There was not smile, as if this muggle picture had known why he was coming for her.  He looked at the margin to find the name she worked under and nearly dropped the book.

            Moira Lupin?