A/N: As always, I thank my beta readers Greywizard and Bill Haden profusely for all their incredible work on this fic, and I also want to say thanks to everyone for their reviews and feedback throughout the course of this story, in reverse order of appearance they are:

setokayba2n, Celgress, red-jacobson, dancetheplanet, Bountyhunter1977, JanusGodOfPossibilities, Guest, notsing, EmeraldGuardian7, Ant Crown, KyliaQuilor, frisbeeg70, highlander348, duskrider, mobulis, Gja03, RHGroeninga, BajaB, and anyone else I've missed!

Okay, here it is – the big finale. I've been told the previous two chapters were way too depressing, so I put together something that's a bit lighter in nature, but still captures the essence of the tale and ties all the plot points together. Oh, and the Star Wars quote below obviously doesn't belong to me! So without further ado, I present to you...

Chapter Nine: A New Path

St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, London

March 1st, 1980

A rather famous literary muggle once wrote, 'surely the Emperor couldn't see everything, couldn't know every future, twist every reality to suit his gluttony.' Basically, what the writer had meant by that was that no one was infallible – and if there was any wizard who knew that right now, it was Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.

He stood disillusioned and covered from head to toe with various charms for no one to take any notice of him, here in one of the delivery rooms of the magical hospital's birthing wing. He was waiting for the arrival of a male child that had been prophesized to bring about calamity and disaster for the British wizarding world; and so, with a heavy heart, Albus was here to 'deal' with the situation.

{ If only it didn't have to be two loyal members of the Order who were his parents, that might make it a little easier for me to do this, } Albus thought to himself sadly, as he witnessed Molly Weasley scream and groan thanks to her birth pains. { Then again, 'if only' are two of the saddest words in the English language... }

Eventually the mediwizard wearing the lime-green robes – what was his name again, Edward Tonks? Ah, yes; Hufflepuff, prefect, graduated from Hogwarts ten, no, eleven years ago – he told Arthur Weasley, "It won't be long now, she's almost fully dilated –"

"She is right here in this room!" Molly Weasley abruptly yelled, before she started cursing viciously. "And she doesn't appreciate being talked about that way!"

"Sorry, Molly," Edward 'Ted' Tonks apologized, before waving his wand and performing several quick analytical charms. "But as I said, it won't take much longer – your child will soon be joining us. Probably any minute now..."

"She better get here soon, I can't take much more – AGGHHH!" the pregnant woman yelled at the top of her lungs, the birth pain suddenly agonizing for her.

"Now, Molly, we don't know for certain yet that it's a girl," Arthur started to say, in a conciliatory manner.

"It is! It has to be! I've already done this four times, Arthur, I want the daughter you promised me!" Molly screeched, grabbing hold of her husband's hand and squeezing to the point of almost breaking bones.

Arthur Weasley was spared from screaming in agony by Ted's quick spellwork, as the mediwizard smiled at his friend and then positioned himself in front of Molly, standing in between her widespread legs. "That's it! Push, Molly, I can see the head!"

"AHHHHHHH!" the red-haired woman screamed and grunted, attempting to deliver her child.

A few moments later, Ted held the newborn in his arms, still slick with blood and the effluvia of birth. After slapping the baby on the rump and a few quick cleaning and warming charms, the mediwizard presented the crying infant to its father. "Congratulations, Arthur, it's a boy."

"Oh! Mollywobbles, he's beautiful," Arthur said proudly, bringing his son around for his wife to see their latest child – their sixth son.

As soon as Molly heard that, though, she just grunted in despair and threw her head back against the pillow. "Oh, Arthur..."

"Now, Molly, don't be like that," Arthur said chidingly.

"I'm sorry, Arthur. I'm being unfair, I know," Molly replied, looking like she was about to burst into tears. "But I was so hoping... I just wished..."

"There's always next time, dear. However, don't take it out on Ronald, please," Arthur beseeched his wife, before passing the male infant over to her.

"Ronald, you say?" Molly asked vaguely, examining the newborn through the tears still welling in her eyes.

"Say hello to our son, Ronald Bilius Weasley," Arthur said firmly, not liking the fact that his wife wasn't exactly happy about the arrival of their youngest child.

"The name suits him," Molly said half-heartedly, before Albus decided that he had allowed them enough time with their doomed offspring, and sprang into action.

"Confundo! Confundo! Confundo!" the so-called Leader of the Light called out, the Elder Wand in his right hand.

The three adults instantly froze, as the magic took hold of their minds and they grew so confused, they no longer understood what was happening around them. Dumbledore quickly took the youngest Weasley son from Molly's arms, and deposited what appeared to be a dead red-haired infant in its place. "Obliviate! None of you ever saw or heard me, and you all witnessed this stillborn child be birthed by Molly Weasley just now..."

Once the Memory charm was cast, Dumbledore moved back, ready to remove the Confundus charms he'd cast as well –

But the next moment, something happened that Albus wasn't expecting, something that ruined all the plans he'd made to deal with the threat that Ronald Bilius Weasley posed to the British wizarding world.

There was a flash of fire, and a phoenix appeared in the delivery room. Dumbledore's very own familiar, as a matter of fact.

"Fawkes?" Dumbledore said in surprise, clutching his wand in one hand and cradling young Ronald in the other. The Headmaster quickly looked around to check on his three spell victims before he said to the phoenix, "What are you – NO!"

Fawkes was hovering in the air right above the infant, and far too late to stop it, Dumbledore saw his immortal companion had used one of its golden claws to nick open a small wound on its right leg, from which there emerged a single drop of phoenix blood. And it fell...

...directly into young Ronald's mouth, the newborn infant ingesting the red liquid before it began to wail and holler its lungs out.

"I don't know why you did that, Fawkes, but there's no time to discuss it now – you must take the boy to my office at Hogwarts, quickly!" Dumbledore pleaded with the phoenix, who obediently landed upon the infant and then vanished with him, in another burst of golden fire.

"All the best laid plans..." Dumbledore muttered to himself, before removing the Confundus from Ted, Arthur and Molly and exiting the room, before walking out of the hospital and into muggle London. He needed a few moments to think...

The plan to hand over Arthur and Molly's son to Saul Croaker had been utterly ruined now, of course; there was no point in trying to do that blood magic ritual and neutralize the threat the boy posed, according to Sybill Trelawney's prophecy. Not that way, not anymore. The presence of phoenix blood – who could tell what effect that would have, on the dark magicks involved?

Albus knew that he would most likely end up killing the baby if he tried that sort of thing now, and he already had enough blood on his hands. Ariana, Gellert... no, the Greater Good would not be served by the murder of an innocent.

And yet, Sybill's second prophecy during that unforgettable January night refused to leave Dumbledore's thoughts...

{ The sixth son of the Blood Traitor approaches... born as the third month is born, and marked in both love and death... love for a sibling will be his undoing, and his death will spell doom for the witch who loves him, and the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord... and also the British wizarding world, there shall be complete chaos and destruction in their absence... the sixth son of the Blood Traitor approaches... }

Albus decided to return to Hogwarts via one of the slowest ways to get there, to give himself enough time to think of what to do next.

Because he still needed to do something; that prophecy of doom and gloom wasn't going to sod off anytime soon.

Eastern Docks, Port of Dover, Kent

March 10th, 1980

Mundungus Fletcher wasn't happy about this. Merlin's left buttock, but he wasn't happy about this!

He was a business man, all right? Halfblood, and also a member of the Order of the Phoenix, but most of that lot either didn't like him or outright didn't trust him. So what if he occasionally considered his business dealings to be more important than gathering information for the Order? He risked his neck for Dumbledore the same as all the rest of them, didn't he?

Although, son of a bludger, this latest mission Dumbledore had sent him on – it was ridiculous! After all, travelling to Calais the muggle way, with this ginger-haired infant who couldn't be more than a few weeks old? Why would Dumbledore have deliberately ordered him not to leave the country with a simple long-distance portkey?

{ Because it feels as if I stick out like a niffler at a hippogriff party, } Dung grumbled to himself, having noticed that people were staring at him in confusion, despite how he'd already ditched his wizarding robes (on Dumbledore's orders). { Do muggles not wear overcoats, then? }

The little tyke started to carry on and cry a bit, so Mundungus quickly calmed down the infant he was carrying, and the passengers queuing up to board the passenger ferry to Calais eventually lost interest in them. Then Mundungus thought about Dumbledore's orders, yet again:

{ Take the boy to a muggle orphanage as far away from Britain as you can, and leave him there. Allow no one from our world to see you, or him, until you have placed the child with his new carers. Obliviate anyone as necessary, if you must, and then return to Hogsmeade. I will contact you for your next assignment then. }

{ Wonder who your mum and dad are, then, that Dumbledore's having me do this for you? } Mundungus asked himself, examining the baby carefully – and not for the first time. { Well, whoever your parents are, or were, I hope you enjoy living life as a Frenchie... }

Just as the queue moved forward and Mundungus was about to board the ferry, there was an explosive crack! And then, it all went tits up, of course –

"DUNG FLETCHER!" the wizard nicknamed Warty Harris shouted, ignoring all the panicking and screaming muggles around them. There was a definite slur in his voice as he ranted, "Leavin' the country, are you? Without handin' over the dosh ya owe me first? I'll make ya bleed fer that!"

Mundungus instantly started running as fast as his short, bandy legs could carry him, barely managing to dodge the other wizard's spell fire by using the muggles for cover as he ran. He couldn't apparate, not with an infant – he was hopeless at side-along apparition, and Dumbledore had warned him not to harm his human cargo in any way. He could only hope that Harris would have sense enough to give up and flee, before the Aurors and the Obliviators showed up –

Unfortunately, he didn't – and the drunken fool was quickly taken down by a Stunner, the nearest red-robed Auror yelling "Stupefy!" and causing the muggles to scream even louder in fear and confusion.

"Fletcher! Stay where you are!" the Auror's partner yelled out as Mundungus stopped running, it was a familiar-looking bloke – even though he was pointing his wand like he wanted to use it at any moment. "You – what are you doing here with a baby?!"

"Auror Longbottom, heh-heh," Mundungus grinned nervously, as the Obliviators showed up and started erasing the memory of what had just happened from the muggles. He waited until the magical copper came up close and asked, "D'ya mind if I calls ya Frank?"

"Yes I do, Fletcher. I don't like you – and besides, this isn't a meeting of the Order," Longbottom hissed, briefly looking around to make sure he wasn't overheard. "Now, what are you up to with the sprog?"

"Was on me way ta France when that idiot Harris went 'n caused that ruckus, di'n' he?" Mundungus tried to sound honest and helpful. "Honest, Frank, I di'n' do anyfink wrong!"

"You must have done something, Fletcher, and I told you not to call me that," Longbottom semi-growled. "And the baby?"

"Orphan," Mundungus quickly lied, knowing that he couldn't tell Longbottom the truth – Dumbledore had impressed the need for utter secrecy on him with regards to his current mission, and might severely punish him if he disobeyed orders – even if it was confiding in a fellow member of the Order. "Was takin' care o' him, see, s'pose I shoulda contacted the Wizardin' Orphan Office – but ya know 'ow ruddy busy they are, You-Know-Who's been killin' off fam'lies left 'n right lately –"

"So you decided to take an orphan with you to magical France, instead? The muggle way? Now, Fletcher, why don't I believe you?" Longbottom demanded, his eyes narrowing.

"'Ere, now, it's the truth!" Mundungus spoke rapidly, starting to panic. "I swear on me mother's grave – Merlin forbid anythin' should 'appen to her," he added in the qualifier rapidly.

"All right, Fletcher, listen to me – there's two options available to you. One, I take you with me to the Ministry right now, and we pour veritaserum into you on suspicion of kidnapping and child trafficking. I think we both know that even if you're innocent of that, we'll still find out plenty of things that'll send you to Azkaban – for at least six months, probably more," Longbottom said coldly.

"And, err, the sec'nd option?" Mundungus gulped in fear.

"Give me the baby right now, and disappear. Go back to your normal haunts, and start doing your job for Albus and the Order properly," Frank said, with a hint of distaste. "Your choice, Fletcher. And you've got five seconds to decide."

Oddly enough, it took Mundungus less than an instant to make his decision. May as well as be hanged for a dragon as an egg, after all; plus he couldn't afford to be taken into custody, and let Dumbledore become aware of just how badly this mission had gone. { No point crying over spilled potion – just got to make the best of things, same as I've been doing my entire life! }

"Alrigh', fine, 'ere 'e is," Dung grumbled, handing over the baby, and working up the nerve to say the next part. "But I needs ya ta do me a favor, Frank."

"I told you, don't call me that! And what do you want?" Longbottom snapped.

"Obliviate me," Mundungus said simply. "Don't wanna remember you, or any o' this, do I? Just make me fink that I went 'n dropped off the kid at some orphanage in, I dunno, south o' France – reckon that Avignon place'll do, went there once 'n all –"

"Why? I mean, why don't you want to remember the truth?" Longbottom interrupted, his eyes narrowing suspiciously again. "Fletcher, what in Merlin's name have you gone and gotten yourself involved in?"

"Can't answer that, Frank, 'n I reckon Dumbledore won't be 'appy if he finds out ya asked," Mundungus shrugged. "So, wha'll it be?"

Longbottom hesitated, one hand holding the baby to his chest and the other one still gripping his wand tightly. Mundungus looked around – the Obliviators had almost finished cleaning up the mess Warty Harris had caused, there wasn't much time left if he had to do a runner, if Frank decided not to help him out –

"Obliviate! You..."

And just like that, even before Longbottom had finished talking – Albus Dumbledore completely lost track of the one and only Ronald Bilius Weasley.

115 Lower Hamilton Road, Kingston Upon Thames, southwest London

May 15th, 1980

That evening, as Ted Tonks looked at his wife Andromeda and seven-year-old daughter Nymphadora, he wondered if he should keep his mouth shut – or else finally ask the question he'd been wanting to ask for nearly a week now.

It had all started back in March, that disaster with the death of the latest Weasley child to be born. An investigation had begun into what exactly had happened, as the parents were both purebloods (even though Ted had heard the words 'blood traitors' muttered by one of the Healers in question, followed by a rather cold and dismissive look) and certain elements at the Ministry had wanted answers. And even though neither Molly nor Arthur had blamed him for what had happened, it had still caused something of an uproar in certain circles – those which cared about blood status more than anything else, of course.

Quite honestly, the events of that morning still haunted Ted to this very day. How, how had he not known anything was wrong until the very last moment? Ted had proof enough to convince everyone (even himself) that he had followed all the proper procedures, cast all the correct diagnostic spells, monitored both the child and the mother carefully – everything he had done, it should have resulted in a normal, healthy birth!

Instead, it had resulted in nothing but an infant's corpse and two traumatized parents, who had to somehow still be there for their other five children; the oldest of which was actually able to understand what had happened, given he would be of Hogwarts age in a couple of years' time.

Ted had cooperated with the inquiry completely, of course, testifying under veritaserum before the hospital board and certain members of the Ministry about what had happened, in addition to presenting his wand as evidence – and so, he had been cleared of any suspicion of incompetence or malfeasance almost immediately. And in the end, the Healers and the Ministry investigators concluded that the baby's death must have been due to an unfortunate last-moment magical accident of some sort, thanks to all the stress the mother's body had been under – even though learning that didn't give Ted any comfort, any more than it did Arthur and Molly Weasley.

In any case, after the investigation was over, Ted had tried to put the whole terrible business behind him; his own family needed him to be strong, after all, the war that had been started by You-Know-Who a few years ago was getting worse. A lot worse. And it wasn't as if they could call on anyone for magical assistance and protection; he was an only child, and his parents were both muggles. His wife's family – former family – wasn't willing to provide them any succor, either; in fact, the Blacks were more likely to help the Death Eaters kill them...

Maybe that was why, when Auror Longbottom had arrived in St Mungo's with an orphan that looked so much like the late Ronald Weasley it hurt, he had volunteered to examine the infant and confirm that it was indeed a magical child. And after discussing it with his wife and liaising with the Wizarding Orphan Office, he'd arranged to temporarily take the baby into his own home...

His colleagues had warned him against it, citing the need for professional detachment and prophesizing that the longer he looked after the child, the harder it would be to give up custody to someone else. But Ted had ignored their advice, because... well, because his beloved Dora was an only child, and for nearly a year, she had been asking when she was going to have a sibling. She was too young to understand how much that question hurt both her parents, how much it hurt that 'Dromeda couldn't have another child...

{ I just need to find out if my wife is willing to make it permanent, if she's willing for us to adopt the boy. }

"Sorry, mum!" Dora apologized, after dropping a plate in the kitchen and it had smashed into a hundred pieces. Her hair turning pink in embarrassment, the little girl added, "Ugh, I don't know why I'm so clumsy!"

"It might be because you're a metamorphagus, darling," 'Dromeda smiled, before casting the Reparo charm and fixing the mess. "Always switching back and forth between different bodies, it's bound to get confusing at times."

"Dora, m'dear, could you possibly give your mother and I some privacy? We have something to discuss – alone," Ted spoke up, coming close and holding the orphan boy in his arms.

"Is it about me?" Dora asked fearfully and innocently, the way only a child could.

"No, it's not about you, it's about something else. Now off you trot, go on," Ted told her with a smile.

"That girl," his wife snorted with a small smile, once their daughter had left. "Nymphadora is going to be the death of me before she eventually grows up, I swear! Oh, Ted, give the baby to me," 'Dromeda then ordered him imperiously, hints of her pureblood upbringing showing themselves in her tone. "Can't you tell his nappy needs to be changed?"

{ How do some women simply know that way? } Ted asked himself in sheer amazement, when it turned out that his wife was right – the boy's nappy did need to be changed immediately. { Ah, well, if even the greatest minds of history have never been able to figure women out, why should I be ashamed that I can't do it either? }

"There, now, all better. Oooh, aren't you a good boy?" 'Dromeda smiled at the infant tenderly, before placing him in his high chair. "So, Ted, what did you want to discuss?"

"Well, I think you already know, love. We both know you're much smarter than me, after all," Ted smiled, somewhat nervously.

His wife's look of amusement vanished, and 'Dromeda quickly became all business. "You want to make it official, don't you? Adopt him as our son, once and for all?"

"The WOO is willing to sign the parchmentwork, if we are," Ted replied neutrally. "There are so many orphans nowadays, and most of them hurt or wounded, that they're pushing for anyone who's willing to take a child in –"

"Ted. Answer my question," 'Dromeda cut him off. "Yes or no?"

He took a deep breath and said simply, "Yes. We've both come to love him as our own, and Dora already thinks of him as her little brother. I know you've always wanted another one, and I..."

"What?" his wife asked curiously, as he trailed off.

"Well, not wanting to sound like a complete toff – err, muggle word, it means a member of the rich upperclass or aristocracy," Ted hastily explained himself at his wife's look of obvious confusion, "but, well, I was thinking – one day, Dora's going to grow up and get married and take her husband's name, isn't she? And – I just thought it'd be good if the Tonks name didn't die with me, you know? I know it sounds like I'm being a –"

"A good Head of House Tonks," 'Dromeda interrupted, an admiring look briefly appearing on her face. "Darling, I understand – and what's more, I approve! And yes, before you ask, I want to adopt him as well. And he'll need a name – we can't keep calling him 'the baby.' Any ideas?"

"Ronald Cygnus Tonks," Ted replied without hesitation, having already thought about it a great deal before now.

"Ronald I can understand, I know that the death of that Weasley baby still troubles you, but Cygnus – for my father?" 'Dromeda looked shocked.

"Yes, love, because I know how close you and he were before you married me, and your parents disowned you – for sneaking off behind their backs and not marrying a proper pureblood, like your sisters," Ted said sympathetically. "Who knows? Maybe your father will want to reconcile with you and meet his grandson and namesake one day, once he hears the news."

Overcome with emotion, the former daughter of Noble and Most Ancient House of Black hugged her husband and kissed him in gratitude and understanding. "Maybe, but I doubt it..."

London branch of Gringotts Wizarding Bank, Diagon Alley

June 21st, 1980

Andromeda Black Tonks (though she couldn't actually claim that maiden name anymore) was feeling rather concerned. Not so much about the blood adoption ritual – but the fact that she didn't know whether or not her father would be showing up today, and if he did, how she would handle it.

{ With your head held high and like a Black, girl, } Andromeda could practically hear her mother's voice in her head, chiding and irascible as ever. { The odds are he won't come, but if he does – treat him like he treats you. You have nothing to lose, after all. }

{ Well, no, that isn't quite true, } Andromeda admitted to herself, as Ted spoke with their goblin representative – Bogrod, she believed his name was. If her father was of a mind to make things difficult for her and her family, Cygnus Black could certainly do it...

"Mum, how much longer is it going to be?" Nymphadora complained, the little girl obviously having grown bored.

"Nymphadora," Andromeda said warningly. "We're in public, so be on your best behavior, understand? No whining, no tantrums and most especially, no morphing into any of the guests! I'll paddle your backside once we get home if you do, understand?"

"Yes, mum," her daughter nodded. "But pretty soon, I'll be able to change my bum so that that won't have any effect, I really will!"

{ Yes, unfortunately, she will, } Andromeda sighed to herself, shifting Ronald around in her arms. { Being a metamorphagus means that Nymphadora will have to be punished some other way, when she misbehaves. Ah, well, I wasn't a Slytherin for nothing – I'm sure I'll be able to come up with something... creative. }

"Are we late?" a familiar male voice asked rather nervously, as a number of people started to enter into the room. Her cousin Sirius then said, "Sorry, Andi, it was just one of those things..."

"Yes, if you count chatting up one of my friends in the hopes of shagging her 'one of those things'," Lily Potter, who looked to be roughly eight months pregnant, interjected, as she waddled into the room with her husband James's help. "Honestly, Sirius, when are you going to realize that Marlene just isn't interested?"

"Probably around the time he gets nominated for Witch Weekly's Most Eligible Bachelor award," Remus Lupin hypothesized, the thin, scar-faced youth smirking at his friend.

"And don't laugh, that might actually happen," Peter Pettigrew hypothesized, his small watery eyes growing wide at the thought. "Oh! Hello, Mrs. Tonks."

"Mr. Pettigrew. Mr. Lupin. Mr. and Mrs. Potter," Andrew nodded to them all politely. "I wasn't aware Sirius would be bringing you all today."

"Oh, come now, Andi – how I could not bring them?" Sirius gestured grandly. "Moony was utterly thrilled at the chance of being able to observe something like this ritual in person, Prongs and Mrs. Prongs and Prongslet had to come to Gringotts anyway for a meeting with their vault manager, and we never go anywhere without Wormtail! Isn't that right, Wormy?"

"Yeah, Padfoot, I guess so," Pettigrew smiled, even though there was something about that smile that troubled Andromeda – she wasn't sure what, though. { Dislike? Envy? }

"Uncle Sirius? You came!" Nymphadora said excitedly, after running over from the other side of the room, and she quickly jumped into her cousin's arms. "I knew you would! I just knew it!"

"Well, naturally, 'Dorable Dora," Sirius smirked at her, as he gave the little girl a hug and a quick peck on the cheek. "How's my favorite little cousin doing?"

"Okay! Because today's the day I'm finally getting Ronnie as my new brother!" Nymphadora said excitedly. Then the girl asked her, "Mum, why did we have to wait so long? You and Dad decided to adopt him weeks ago!"

"You know why, Nymphadora," Andromeda replied with a hint of exasperation. "We had to wait for the summer solstice –"

"But why? What's so special about today?" Nymphadora pouted.

"Sympathetic magic," Peter spoke up, as everyone turned to look at him curiously. "Um, that is to say – wait, Moony, you're the smart one, you can explain it all better than I can..."

"Bugger that, he'll talk for an hour and still not get to the point!" Sirius interrupted, before Remus could even open his mouth. "Listen, Morphy –"

"Don't call her that, Sirius," Andromeda immediately scowled at her cousin, as Nymphadora mouthed the word 'Morphy?' to herself. "Or you can turn around and leave, right now!"

"She's got a point, you know," Lily said disapprovingly. "Those ridiculous nicknames you four came up with at Hogwarts, you can keep them to yourselves. I swear, Sirius, the first time you call my son 'Prongslet' directly to his face? I'll hex you, good and proper!"

"Now that's just unfair, Lils!" Sirius protested, somewhat overdramatically. Then he turned to face his best friend, "Aren't you going to defend me?"

"Not if it means going against my wife, Pads," James shook his head at once, sliding an arm around Lily to support her. "Besides. I still think you came up with my Marauder name just because it rhymes with thongs and bongs and –"

"I want to be 'Tonks'," Nymphadora suddenly spoke up, her prepubescent face looking strong and determined. "That's my new name, the same way 'Padfoot' is Uncle Sirius's!"

"Really, Nymphadora –" Andromeda started to say dismissively.

"It's TONKS!" the little girl said insistently, her hair cycling through brown to pink and then red.

"Well, I for one approve!" Sirius said heartily, as just about everyone rolled their eyes at hearing that. "Welcome, oh Tonks, to the ranks of hononary Marauders!"

"And what 'Marauders' are these, boy?" another male voice, old and somewhat disapproving, said from the doorway to the room.

Apart from Ted and Bogrod, who were still discussing things over on the other side of the room, everyone went quiet as the old man walked into the room. He was in his late seventies or early eighties, but he was wearing expensive dragonhide robes and gave off an aura of great magical power, and his face –

{ Great-Uncle Arcturus. The Head of House Black, } Andromeda thought to herself nervously. { What's he doing here? }

"I asked you a question, grandson," Arcturus frowned at Sirius. "And as my Heir, I expect you to answer –"

"Me? The Black Heir? That's ridiculous!" Sirius suddenly found his voice, the contempt suddenly oozing from his pores. "I was disowned when I was sixteen, Grandfather, you know that! Mother was utterly gleeful in her Howler –"

"Your brother Regulus is dead, thanks to his own folly – and your mother pushing him to his unfortunate fate," Arcturus interrupted, the words causing Sirius to instantly shut up. "Your father Orion is dead as well. Likewise, your Uncle Alphard. The previous generation produced no other male heirs; and Cygnus only had two – no, three daughters..." He then paused, and finally looked at her directly, "Andromeda."

"Mr. Black." At his raised eyebrows she elaborated, "Given that I was formally disowned by the people I used to call my parents, it would presumptuous to address the Head of my former House as anything else."

Her great-uncle nodded – maybe in approval, she couldn't tell – and then Arcturus shifted his attention to James. "Potter. My condolences on the deaths of your parents last year – I knew Fleamont and Euphemia for nearly six decades, they were good people. Even if they were somewhat entrenched in their pro-Dumbledore viewpoints."

"Thank you for your condolences, Mr. Black," James curled his arm around Lily protectively. "Now, what's all this about Sirius being your Heir again? As the Head of House Potter, I can confirm that my father's decision to take Sirius in as a member of our House still stands. And I can't believe for a moment that Sirius's mother would accept –"

"That mad little witch has no say in this," Arcturus cut him off at once. "Walburga has already done enough damage to my House. That's why she's been stripped of any authority in House Black affairs and confined to her home at Grimmauld Place, with only her personal elf to attend to her needs."

"Kreacher?" Sirius suddenly smirked. "Ha! Couldn't have happened to a nicer house elf!"

"Be that as it may, you are now the future of House Black, boy," Arcturus lectured his grandson. "You need to marry and produce your own Heir, there is no one else –"

"Can't you do a blood adoption ritual, though? Like my parents are going to do with Ronnie?" Nymphadora suddenly asked, injecting herself into the conversation with a puzzled look on her face, her hair turning back into its normal brown color.

"Not likely, Tonks," Sirius answered her with a smile. "Toujours Pur, and all that."

"Indeed. The Black line will always be pure," Arcturus nodded. "Blood adoption is a resort of last choice – although I am willing to consider it, if my grandson proves himself to be infertile."

"Me? Infertile? Oh, now, I'm insulted!" Sirius said facetiously. "I could have had nearly half a dozen kids by this point, you know, all those girls I took up to the Astronomy Tower when we were back at Hogwarts!"

"Be that as it may, I'd like to ask why exactly you're here, Mr. Black?" Andromeda asked, not wanting to hear about her cousin's (most likely fictional) attempts to sire a child. "My invitation to my former family to attend this event did not dare presume to include you."

"You should have been born a boy, Andromeda, I'd have declared you the Black Heir and prevented your parents from ever disowning you," Arcturus nodded approvingly. "And I came here not only to speak to Sirius in a setting where he can't act like a spoiled brat, to inform him of his new family duties – but I also wanted to indulge my curiosity about this boy you're adopting, after Cygnus complained to me about you having the cheek to give the child his name and to invite him to this 'disgusting ceremony', to quote his words precisely."

{ I should have known, } Andromeda thought to herself, wanting to shut her eyes in pain but refusing to do so in front of this man. { I'm sorry, Ted, but I did warn you that this was how my father – former father – would most likely act. Well, so be it – I have no father, in spirit as well as in name! }

"I don't understand, what's disgusting about this? I mean, I'm getting a new brother! Aren't I? How can that be wrong?" Nymphadora looked very confused and upset.

"It's not wrong," Lily spoke up, as everyone turned to look at her. "Adoption is very common in the muggle world, Nymphadora, but not so much the magical one. Because bloodlines tend to be something that the more... hidebound members of wizarding society get rather prickly about, you see."

Arcturus opened his mouth to say something, before he hesitated and merely said, "True enough. And for good reason – for example, there hasn't been a metamorphagus born to any member of the Black family in decades –"

"But I'm not a Black, I'm a Tonks," Nymphadora interrupted in confusion. "And what's wrong with being a metamorphagus?"

"Nothing," Remus instantly spoke up.

"Just like there's nothing wrong with being a werewolf, as long as you take all the right precautions," Lily added, staring at Arcturus as if daring him to deny it.

"Um, Mr. Black, would you care to take a seat? Mr. Tonks and the goblin seem to have finished, they're coming this way," Peter said nervously, grabbing a nearby chair and obsequiously offering it to the Head of House Black.

{ He's smarter than I thought, } Andromeda nodded to herself, acknowledging that the young man's actions quickly defused what might have become a tense moment as Ted and Bogrod joined the group. { It seems there's a valid reason why my cousin includes Pettigrew in his inner circle of friends, after all. }

"Are there any questions before we proceed?" the goblin asked in a curt, no-nonsense tone as Ted levitated a small golden bowl onto the table.

"A quick summary of the process first would be most appreciated," Remus answered eagerly, the former prefect's desire for knowledge easily visible for everyone to see.

Bogrod stared at him for a moment. Then he stated, "The adoptive father will shed blood into the ritual bowl, and pronounce the adoption oath. The adoptive mother will do likewise. Their blood will then be mixed with that of the child. That is all."

"You oversimplify things a great deal, goblin," Arcturus spoke from his chair. "I hope for your sake that you carry out your financial duties with a bit more care to detail."

"Of course, Mr. Black," Bogrod nodded, even though Andromeda could tell the creature was almost seething with anger. "However, time is gold, and as an uninvited guest, I must ask you to bear with me as we undertake the ritual."

{ Clever, imaginative goblin, } Andromeda inwardly smirked as everyone sat down in their chairs, and Arcturus glowered at Bogrod. { Barest civility on the one hand, and veiled insult with the other. No wonder we're due for another goblin rebellion soon, once the civil war ends! }

"Libellus magicus," Ted said before he tapped the bowl with his wand, and silver sparkles erupted out of it. Bogrod handed him a silver goblin knife and Andromeda's husband cut his palm with it, allowing his blood to drip into the bowl. Then he spoke the oath, "I, Edward Tonks of the House of Tonks, take thee, Ronald Cygnus Tonks as my son, by blood, by magic, by law and by this oath. So I have sworn; so mote it be." He then healed the cut on his hand using his wand, and took Ronald into his arms, as Andromeda stepped up to join him.

She took Bogrod's knife and added her own blood into the bowl. "I, Andromeda Tonks of the House of Tonks, and formerly of the House of Black, take thee, Ronald Cygnus Tonks as my son, by blood, by magic, by law and by this oath. So I have sworn; so mote it be."

She noticed that everyone was watching the ritual in silent interest and/or fascination, even her great-uncle. Andromeda then healed her own cut, and accepted the baby back from her husband as Bogrod said, "These vows have been witnessed by me, Bogrod of Gringotts, according to the Wizard-Goblin Treaty of 1752." He held his hand over the golden bowl, and it briefly glowed thanks to a dose of goblin magic – which was very different to wizarding magic, Andromeda knew. "The parents will now present the infant which is to be blood adopted."

Andromeda and Ted both stepped forward and Bogrod said to them, "I am obligated to ask; are you aware that this ritual, once completed, cannot be undone? If you do this, then from this day forward, the child will be your son, by law, by blood and by – wizard and goblin magic," he finished up with a small frown.

"We are," Ted answered for both of them.

"And you swear to enter into this adoption knowingly and of your own free will, as stipulated by the relevant Wizengamot statute of 1953?" Bogrod asked again.

"We do," Andromeda answered this time.

"Then mix the child's blood and magic with your own, and confirm the new status of the wizard henceforth known as Ronald Cygnus Tonks," Bogrod said simply, stepping back to give her and Ted enough room to finish the rite.

Andromeda noticed everyone eagerly staring at them, and briefly wished she'd insisted that Sirius come alone, before dismissing that thought. "Shall I do it, darling?"

"May as well," Ted smiled at her. "I know it's not the same as birthing him yourself, love – but it comes close, I must say. Our blood shall be his, and his shall be ours – and that's what's important, right?"

"For a muggleborn, you seem remarkably well informed," Arcturus nodded approvingly.

"Thanks. Well, I did try my best to learn about the new culture and attempt to fit in as much as possible, while I was at Hogwarts," Ted told the old man. "One of the reasons I got accepted as a mediwizard at St Mungo's, I suppose."

"Dad's the best!" Nymphadora called out, making Andromeda smile. "He'll be able to heal Ronnie of anything, once he starts growing up like me!"

"Thank you, Nymphadora; but that's enough, please," Andromeda told her fondly. "And now – welcome to the family, Ronald."

She took the silver knife and made a small cut on the baby's right thumb. Immediately, Ronald woke up and started shrieking – but ignoring that, Andromeda dipped his hand into the bowl of blood, magically sealing her claim and Ted's over the boy's blood and magic.

But that was when something unexpected happened.

A silver mist rose up out of the bowl, and then abruptly morphed into the image of a – a phoenix, it looked like. It was hard to tell. Concerned, Andromeda immediately stepped back and pulled Ronald away, but it was too late – the silver magic rushed into the baby before she could do anything to prevent it.

"What's happening?", "Is this supposed to happen?", and "Merlin's beard!" were some of the cries that issued forth from the guests for the adoption ritual, as everyone other than Arcturus Black surged up from their chairs.

Andromeda ignored them all and said demandingly, "Bogrod! What's going on? This isn't normal, is it?"

"Indeed not, Mrs. Tonks. That shouldn't have happened!" The goblin rushed over and examined the bowl. "As I thought, the ritual bowl hasn't been tampered with, but –"

"LOOK AT THAT!" Nymphadora cried out, after a flash of golden fire appeared and a real phoenix manifested itself. The crimson bird then began to sing its unearthly song, eerie and spine-tingling; it lifted the hair on everyone's scalp, as Arcturus finally scrambled up off his chair.

"Fascinating," he said, looking excited. "Andromeda, place your son on the table. Quickly!"

"Why-?" Ted started to ask, but she had already obeyed her great-uncle's orders.

And not a moment too soon, as golden flames erupted out of the baby's hands – just as the phoenix flew a circle around him, still crooning its inhumanly beautiful song.

"Bloody hell, what-?" Ted said, looking astonished and bewildered at what was happening to his son.

"That, that can't possibly be normal," James spoke up, looking amazed at how the baby appeared to remain unharmed.

"It isn't," Lily nodded. "Care of Magical Creatures was never my strongest subject, but I'm sure that isn't normal phoenix behavior!"

"Bugger the phoenix – there are flames coming out of that kid's hands!" Peter yelped, confused and concerned. "That's what isn't normal behavior!"

"You're right, it isn't," Remus looked flabbergasted by everything that happened.

"Congratulations, Ted and Andi; that's one unusual boy you've got there!" Sirius suddenly cheered.

"What about me? I'm a metamorphagus!" Nymphadora protested, but then she smiled. "Oh! We're both unusual, aren't we? I can change shape, and Ronnie can make fire! He really is a Tonks now!"

At that moment, the phoenix stopped singing, and vanished with another burst of golden fire. The flames instantly vanished from the baby's hands, as Ron calmed down and started gurgling, his chubby little arms reaching for his mother.

"Oh! He's hungry, I can tell," Andromeda said knowingly, grabbing her son and cuddling him protectively.

Ted quickly examined Ronald and satisfied himself that the infant was unharmed, before exhaling in relief. "Bogrod, is there somewhere we can go so that my wife can feed our son properly?"

"Of course, Mr. Tonks, Mrs. Tonks, come with me –" Bogrod started to say eagerly.

"HOLD!" Arcturus suddenly shouted. "Before you go anywhere, goblin, I want a vow from you. Swear on your life and magic that you will reveal nothing of what has transpired here to anyone, or to any creature; that you will keep secret the fact that the Tonks boy is a pyromagus!"

"A what?" Nymphadora asked in confusion, staring at her new baby brother.

"A pyromagus? There hasn't been one of those in, what, at least... two, maybe three centuries?" Sirius asked dazedly, staring at Ronald in astonishment.

"Mr. Tonks, are you sure you don't have any magical ancestry?" Peter asked in amazement. "Because –"

"Because what, Peter? Are you suggesting that muggleborns are lesser wizards and witches than halfbloods, or purebloods?" Lily abruptly glared at him, her hand resting protectively over her belly as she suddenly groaned in pain, her unborn son kicking her unexpectedly.

(Far away in Crawley, the toddler named Hermione Jean Granger started to cry as well, even though her dentist parents assumed it was because she didn't like the new formula milk they had decided to try out today.)

(Within the Department of Mysteries, a prophecy orb went dark, as the subject of its prediction had vanished from existence.)

(And over at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, the Mirror of Infinite Possibilities – not yet hidden by Walburga Black's portrait – likewise vanished from existence, its ultimate purpose as foreseen and designed by Frugoldus Weasley fulfilled at last.)

"You alright? And I don't think that's what Wormtail is suggesting at all, love," James told his wife comfortingly, taking one of her hands into his.

"Yeah, it's just – unusual, seeing a muggleborn and a pureblood produce such magically powerful kids," Sirius started to grin. "Bloody hell, but Uncle Cygnus and Aunt Druella were obviously complete fools, disowning Andi the way they did! I mean, if the combination of Black blood and Tonks blood can produce the first pyromagus in centuries, as well as a metamorphagus –"

"Indeed, but that is a subject for later, grandson. Now, goblin, your vow," Arcturus interrupted, staring at Bogrod.

"And if I refuse?" the goblin in question demanded.

"Then you won't leave this room alive," the Head of House Black promised him with a scowl.

"Wars have been started between my kind and yours over lesser threats, wizard!" Bogrod abruptly snarled at Arcturus. "If you think –"

"Obliviate!" Remus abruptly drew his wand and cast the Memory Charm on the goblin, who stiffened in shock. "You remember nothing unusual happening in the blood adoption ritual just now. And the last thing you remember is Mr. Tonks requesting a private room for Mrs. Tonks to feed her son, after the ritual was over!"

Everyone could see the goblin fight against it, but in the end he lost the battle and the mind magicks took hold. A bored expression appeared on his face as Bogrod said, "Right this way, Mrs. Tonks."

"Ted, Nymphadora. Let's go," she nodded to her husband and daughter, as the Tonks family closed ranks and started to leave the room.

Andromeda had no idea that in another world, Luna Lovegood – someone who wouldn't even be born until next February, here and now – she would have started dancing in delight at Ron's inner heliopath having finally been unleashed...

Platform 9 and 3/4, Kings Cross Station, London

September 1st, 1991

{ How quickly they grow up, } Andromeda thought musingly, as she and Ted escorted their son to the Hogwarts Express. { It was barely a few months ago that Nymphadora finally finished her schooling at Hogwarts, and now Ronald's starting his first year there? Swing out the old and swing in the new, so to speak... }

Andromeda glanced at the eleven-year-old boy; he was tall and somewhat well-built for his age, which was the product of good food and plenty of exercise (as a Healer, Ted had insisted on it). Ronald's hair had turned out a rather odd shade of dark auburn, neither red nor brown but somewhere in between; his eyes were blue-green; and there was no sign of any freckles, either. His nose was the oddest part of him; it was aquiline in shape, utterly unlike either hers or Ted's.

{ Well, I suppose it's possible that part of him might not have been affected by the blood adoption ritual, } Andromeda mused, as Ronald spotted his friend Harry Potter and raced off to greet him. { Still, as long as Ronald's healthy and in good spirits, that's the important thing. And as long as he doesn't burn Hogwarts down to the ground during the next year or so, as well... }

Frowning, Andromeda thought back to those initial chaotic days after the blood adoption, how fire had erupted out of the boy's hands at random intervals and it had taken a while for them to adjust. Plus there was the fact that Ronald had almost become a... a bargaining chip, in the negotiations between House Black and House Tonks. A negotiation for an alliance between the two Houses, and reinstatement for her into the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black – if she wanted it, of course.

The secret of her son's powers had been kept secret, though, and so her former parents had become so incensed by the negotiations with Great-Uncle Arcturus, Cygnus and Druella Black had raised such a fuss... that both of them had earned themselves the same punishment as Aunt Walburga. Namely, being imprisoned in their own home, with only a house elf to meet their needs. It was ironic how being disowned seemed like a far lesser punishment, in comparison!

In any case, less than a month later, Lily Potter had given birth to her and James' son – Harry Potter, or 'Prongslet' as Sirius had insisted on calling him (and true to her word, Lily had hexed the new Black Heir very painfully for doing that). Maybe it was better that her cousin hadn't been named godfather to the Potter Heir, like had originally been the plan; she and Ted had already asked Sirius to be Ronald's godfather, and so Peter Pettigrew had been chosen instead. Given that Remus Lupin, a registered werewolf, would have been stripped of all rights by the bigots at the Ministry if Harry's parents died.

Apparently Pettigrew had stammered in disbelief for nearly thirty seconds, before smiling widely and saying it was a great honor, and of course he would accept –

{ That poor man, } Andromeda mused to herself, recalling Peter's gruesome fate roughly sixteen months after the adoption. Apparently the Potters had gone into hiding using the Fidelius charm, and had used Harry's godfather as the Secret Keeper; but Pettigrew had been found by the Death Eaters, and brutally tortured to give up the secret of their location.

A few years ago, her cousin had gotten somewhat drunk and revealed to her that he had seen Peter's mutilated body, the same night James and Lily had been murdered. It had been enough to give him nightmares, Sirius had said, and Andromeda knew he might have done something stupid if he hadn't discovered it was his own cousin – Andromeda's sister, Bellatrix – who had done the vile deed.

Instead, Sirius had gone straight to Potter Cottage and retrieved Harry from the ruins of the house, dropping him off at the Tonks residence before gathering Remus Lupin and Frank and Alice Longbottom and a few others to go on a... a hunting expedition, for want of a better description. One that Bellatrix and her husband and her brother-in-law and Bartemius Crouch junior hadn't survived, apparently.

Andromeda hadn't protested against Bellatrix's assassination, even if she had grieved in private. It was unfortunate, but her older sister had been dead to her by that point, in more ways than one – just like her other sister, Narcissa, who had been smart enough to grab her own husband and son and head for wizarding France before Sirius found them, where the Malfoys still remained to this day.

It was likewise unfortunate that Albus bloody Dumbledore had tried to stick his overly-large nose into their family affairs, afterwards. He had shown up at the house on Lower Hamilton Road wanting to take custody of Harry, and it had taken quite a while before he had given up and left, when it became obvious she wasn't going to let him into the house – not willingly, anyway. But that hadn't been the end of it, oh no –

That whole Boy-Who-Lived mania had started, and Dumbledore had petitioned for custody of the Potter orphan. Andromeda couldn't understand what the old man had been thinking – what did he know about raising a toddler, and with three jobs – Supreme Mugwump of the I.C.W., Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, and Headmaster of Hogwarts – he wouldn't have had time to do it, anyway! Still, it was a good thing Sirius had had a copy of the Potters' will, or else Dumbledore might have succeeded – in the end, with the backing of Great-Uncle Arcturus her cousin had been granted custody of Harry, and luckily, Sirius had listened to Ted and herself when they had told him not to do anything Dumbledore 'suggested' for him to do.

Especially when it was revealed that Dumbledore wanted Lily's magic-hating sister Petunia, and her ignorant muggle husband, to raise the boy! Andromeda couldn't think of a worse possible fate for any magical child, and she and Ted had made sure that Sirius knew it, too. Still, it took nearly a year before Dumbledore finally gave up on that scheme – and even then, it was only because they had anonymously informed The Daily Prophet what the old man was trying to do, and Dumbledore had been forced to behave in order to combat the damage done to his reputation.

{ It makes me rather worried what Dumbledore might do, actually, now that Harry will be attending that man's school, } Andromeda mused to herself. { But Ronald will be there with him, and I've told the boy to keep in contact with his friend, whichever House they end up being sorted into. My son will keep both me and Sirius informed if Dumbledore tries anything, I'm sure. }

"Knut for your thoughts, love?" Ted asked her, as they approached the scarlet steam engine and the long line of passenger cars behind it.

"Just thinking about the past, and the future," Andromeda smiled at him. "Ah, here come the boys – and Sirius."

Indeed, Ronald and Harry were tearing along the platform, somehow dodging around the crowds of people while a bemused-looking Sirius followed them with Harry's trolley, with Remus bringing up the rear.

"Come on, old man, faster! Can't you go any quicker than that?" the Potter boy demanded challengingly.

Instantly, Sirius morphed into his animagus form – a huge black dog, reminiscent of a Grim – and he quickly outran both Ronald and Harry over to herself and Ted. "I certainly can, Prongslet. Quicker than you and your best mate, here," Sirius remarked, after transforming back to human form. "That reminds me – Ron, have you chosen your Marauder name yet?"

"Not exactly, Sirius," the pyromagus shrugged. "I mean, Harry suggested 'Heliopath' after reading an article about them in The Quibbler – and while that's not bad, I reckon it might be better to wait until we've become animaguses, like you and Harry's dad and his godfather," Ronald said earnestly.

"Oh, Merlin help us if that ever happens," Ted groaned. "Boys, haven't I warned you both how dangerous that sort of thing is? So don't you dare try to do anything like that unsupervised!"

"He's right, you know," Remus Lupin said, as he finally joined the group. "When I think back to some of the insane risks Peter, James and Sirius took just to be there for me, whenever I transformed –"

"Insane? Oh, Moony, are you actually calling your employer – not to mention, the Head of House Black – a madman?" Sirius interrupted, grinning madly.

"The Black madness is present in every generation, cousin. As I'm sure Ronald here knows," Andromeda replied primly.

"Mum! I only tried to fly like a phoenix that one time!" Ronald protested, his face growing red.

"That was one time too many, young man, and I shudder to think what might have happened if Nymphadora hadn't been there to save your life!" she scolded the boy.

"Where is Tonks, anyway?" Sirius asked with a chuckle, glancing at the werewolf.

"She's either at the Auror academy, or else snogging her boyfriend – that Charlie Weasley bloke," Ronald replied promptly. "Maybe even both."

"Ronald!" Ted told him sternly.

"What? Dad, it's true!" the boy replied passionately. "And to think, the Weasel was planning to say cheerio and head off to Romania, that dragon preserve job... I mean – I had to warn the git that if he did that, I'd roast him alive, didn't I? He wanted to break Tonks' heart, he had to accept the consequences!"

"Spoken like a true Black," Sirius nodded approvingly, smirking.

"And a Tonks," Ted added proudly.

"Be that as it may – stop calling your sister 'Tonks', Ronald. Her name is Nymphadora," Andromeda said warningly.

"Sorry, mum, but I already promised Tonks that I wouldn't call her that anymore. My godfather taught her too many painful spells that she's willing to use on me," Ron replied frankly, which caused both Ted and Remus to start chuckling.

Andromeda wasn't feeling amused, though, glaring at her cousin. "Sirius..."

"Oh, look at the time! Harry, Ron, you two need to get aboard the train – and both Moony and I need to return home... Today's a busy day, isn't it?" Sirius grabbed Harry and started to hustle him away.

"You mean, apart from meeting with Rufus Scrimgeour at the Ministry, and you trying to chat up Amelia Bones yet again? Not particularly," Remus shrugged, as he grabbed Harry's trolley and Ted grabbed Ronald's, and the group made their way towards roughly the middle of the train.

"Alright, now, you two remember the rules once you're at Hogwarts?" Sirius smiled at his godson, and the son of his heart.

"Be good, and if you can't be good, don't be caught," both Harry and Ronald said in unison.

"Sirius!" Andromeda hissed at him.

"What? Both Prongslet and Heliopath will have to be careful, well... until they find the other two members of their generation's Marauders, of course. Their own versions of Moony and Wormtail – Merlin rest his soul," Sirius added parenthetically, a nostalgic look of sorrow appearing briefly on his face.

"Well. You two make sure you write a lot, understand?" Andromeda said to Harry and Ron. "Have fun, make lots of friends, and make sure you study hard! And stay out of trouble!"

"The kind of trouble that lands you in detention, anyway," Ted smiled with a slight shrug, before he winced at his wife's disapproving stare.

"You know what, Ted's right. So don't burn Filch's office into ashes until at least your third year, it'll be a lot more fun after pranking him for a long while first," Sirius said with a straight face.

"SIRIUS!" Andromeda nearly lost her composure completely.

Ronald abruptly hugged her and Ted goodbye, and then Sirius and Remus as well. "Bye, mum, bye dad! Bye Sirius, bye Uncle Remus!"

Harry did likewise before saying his own farewells, and then the boys grabbed their trunks and hopped aboard the train. Soon enough it was eleven o'clock and the Hogwarts Express slowly pulled out of the station, leaving the adults behind.

"It's going to be a long year, and the house will feel so empty now that both Ronald and Nymphadora will be absent," Andromeda said fretfully.

"We'll make do, love," Ted hugged her, before Sirius and Remus said their farewells and headed for the local floo terminals. He then added, "Kids grow up, you know that – it's just part of life, that's all. We'll adapt, just like we did when Ronnie was learning to control his powers – remember?"

"How could I forget?" Andromeda shook her head, recalling all the flame-freezing charms they'd had to install all over the house. "Oh, look who's coming..."

"Ted! Andromeda! It's lovely to see you both," Arthur Weasley greeted them, as he and his wife and daughter came over to the Tonks parents.

"Yes, it's been too long – you two should come over to the Burrow for lunch or dinner sometime," Molly offered graciously. "Oh, Ginny, you remember Mr. and Mrs. Tonks, don't you?"

"A little," the ginger-haired girl said shyly, looking at Ted. "Aren't you the mediwizard who delivered me?"

"And it was a pleasure to do so, dear girl," Ted smiled at Ginny. "Believe me; your arrival was a true blessing, in more ways than one."

"What do you mean?" Ginny asked with childlike confusion.

"Errr..." Ted trailed off, looking at Arthur and Molly.

Molly's eyes suddenly grew wet. "This would have been his first year at Hogwarts, you know," she mused sadly. "I should have sent off four sons this year, instead of three..."

There was an awkward silence before Ginny asked, "Are you talking about him again, mum? My, my dead brother Ronnie? The one you cried about this morning?"

"Yes, dear, but it's all right – six children are enough for any mother, you know," Molly said to the little girl, obviously lying through her teeth – but fortunately, Ginny was too young and innocent to pick up on it. "Well, your father needs to return to the Ministry, and we need to return home to the Burrow. Ted, Andromeda, please don't be strangers – send me an owl soon for us to meet!"

There was another flurry of farewells, and soon enough, Platform 9 and 3/4 was emptied of Britain's wizards and witches until the next Christmas holidays.

The Hogwarts Express, roughly five miles from Kings Cross Station

A short while earlier

"Finally! We're on our way to Hogwarts," Harry said happily, as he and Ron finally settled their luggage in place and sat down in their seats. "Can't wait to finally see the place!"

"Me too. Well, just as long as we steer clear of that Dumbledore bloke, anyway," Ron nodded, stretching his legs all the way over to the seat on the other side of the compartment. "Heard enough stories about that nutter from both the parents and Tonks, to make me sure neither of us should go anywhere near him. Especially you, mate!"

"I know. Funny thing is, Sirius used to practically worship him, just like Uncle Remus. Just like my parents did, or so I'm told," Harry frowned. "Makes me glad your mum and dad were able to convince Sirius not to send me to those muggles – I actually met them recently, did I mention that? Didn't like them at all. My mum's sister, my Aunt Petunia – her face almost looked like that of a horse! Her husband, my Uncle Vernon, he reminded me of a walrus with a moustache. And my cousin Dudley? A pig in a wig, if there ever was one!"

"You're better off without them, it sounds like," Ron nodded his head. "Not that I'm against muggles – I love my dad's parents, Gran and Grand-dad are great! But if you don't want those people to be part of your life, then you shouldn't be forced to."

"Yeah, well, given how the Dursleys called us 'freaks' and whatnot? I'm really glad I was able to live with Sirius, well – whenever I didn't stay with you and your family," Harry replied, before he grimaced. "Is Tonks still mad at me, then?"

"What, for you telling mum how she was caught in a broom closet with her boyfriend last year? I dunno. Probably," Ron shrugged. "Anyway. You still planning to try out for your House's Quidditch team next year?"

"Just 'cause you think Quidditch is boring," Harry retorted, giving his friend a light shove.

"Oi! I told you I'm planning to become a Healer like my dad, and that means I'll not have time to waste on things like that. Besides, I'm pretty sure I'll be busy enough just trying to keep up with my normal running and athletics exercises! And you brought it, didn't you?" Ron asked knowingly.

"Brought what?" Harry asked, trying to act as innocent as a three-year-old. It didn't work, though, and so he grinned and brought out his Nimbus 2000 and unshrunk it, staring at the broom lovingly. "I'm telling you, Ron, it's so unfair how we aren't allowed our own brooms as first years!"

"Tch, the way you carry on like that? You're mad about that broomstick – in the 'until death do us part' sort of way," Ron snorted. "Maybe you ought to marry it, or something –"

"Shut up!" Harry gave him another playful shove, before he shrunk the broom and placed it back in his pocket. "And as if you didn't bring your own stuff that's forbidden by the school rules!"

"Well..." Ron said hesitantly, glancing up at his stowed trunk and giving Harry a quick and somewhat nervous grin.

"What? What?"

"You remember how roughly six months ago, Sirius's grandfather died and we visited the house on Grimmauld Place to retrieve his personal stuff?"

"Yeah, so?"

"Well, while we were there, I met the Black house elf named Kreacher," Ron said pensively. "And when he saw me set the living room curtains on fire after they tried to strangle me, he practically begged me to do the same thing with this golden locket he had. Thing is, I had to create a fire hotter than anything I've ever done before – mum said it was as hot as fiendfyre, actually – and after that blasted locket screamed and finally exploded from the heat, Kreacher gave me a book called 'Secrets of the Darkest Incantations' to show his gratitude..."

"Well, with a title like that? Sounds like you'll be able to use it to create rainbows and puppies, no problems," Harry wisecracked.

"Don't be daft, Harry; I brought it along just in case we run into the monster from Slytherin's chamber, or something equally as bad – there's a banishing incantation in there that Kreacher said is guaranteed to get rid of anything," Ron shrugged. "Better to have it and not need it than the other way around, I just thought."

"The Chamber of Secrets? Oh, come on," Harry said scornfully. "You actually believe that ridiculous story your mum told us about? That Chamber's just a myth! Even Sirius says so!"

"Well, either way, it's not like I'm planning to ever go look for the bloody thing – like I told you, I plan to study as hard as I can to become a Healer! Problem is, though, I'm not all that smart – I'll have to find someone to help me out, a swotty study partner or some such," Ron said musingly.

Just then, there was a knock on the door and a girl with lots of bushy brown hair stuck her head inside. "Do you two mind if I come in? Just about every other compartment is full, I'm afraid."

"Sure, come inside," Harry said generously, as he and Ron got up off of their seats. "And please, let us help you with your luggage."

"Oh, thank you. You're awfully kind," the girl said gratefully, as Ron waved Harry aside and grabbed the girl's trunk by himself. "I'm Hermione Granger."

"Ronald Tonks," Ron introduced himself, before groaning at the sheer weight of the trunk. "Merlin, what have you got in here? Rocks?"

"No – books, of course," Hermione replied stiffly. "Nobody in my family's got magic at all, and it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was so pleased, of course, because Hogwarts is the very best school of witchcraft there is, or so I've heard – so I bought all the books I could, and I've learned all our course books by heart, naturally, I just hope it will be enough – oh, I'm sorry, who are you?" she babbled very fast, looking at Harry.

"Harry Potter," the young wizard introduced himself. "And d'you normally talk that fast? Probably better if you slowed down a bit – hang on, you've already learned all our course books by heart?! Ron, I think we've just found the best possible study partner for you," Harry added as an aside to his friend.

"Are you really Harry Potter?" Hermione asked, ignoring that last bit. "I know all about you, of course – I got a few extra books for background reading, and that's how I learned you're in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century."

"I wouldn't believe what's written in those books, if I were you," Ron warned her, as he finished hoisting the trunk up and out of the way. "The authors more or less made it all up, given that Harry has never given any interviews – and both he and my godfather, Sirius Black, they lived in hiding for the first five years after James and Lily Potter were killed."

"What? Why?" Hermione asked in confusion.

"Lots of Death Eaters who'd claimed they were 'under the Imperius' wanted to kill me," Harry shrugged. "And that Bartemius Crouch git wanted Sirius dead for killing his son – until my parental guardian killed him as well, a few years after Crouch's wife died. It was a really nasty duel, apparently; and it's not like they were gonna put that in the history books, is it? Especially since I was involved, and that would conflict with all the tripe they'd already made up about me..."

"But, but – it was still written in print! I don't – how can the books be wrong? They've been around for years! I mean, if what you say is true, then surely someone would have objected to the falsehoods, and had those books recalled by now?" Hermione protested, looking as if she couldn't believe what she was hearing.

Harry and Ronald glanced at one another, before the younger boy cleared his throat. "You're lucky we're both halfbloods, Hermione, I'm pretty sure a pureblood would just look at you as if you're completely mental. But luckily, Ron's dad is a muggleborn and he exposed us to the muggle world, so we can clear up the confusion."

"Yeah, and the first rule is – forget all the rules that muggles live by," Ron said simply. "The British wizarding world may share the same land and speak the same language, but other than that, it's a completely foreign country. And in the wizarding world, whoever has the gold and the power, they make the rules. It's that simple."

"He's right. Few years back, some idiots went and published a book about me living the life of a pampered prince or something, and they tried to pass it off as the truth – just to make a bigger profit," Harry snorted in contempt. "So Sirius went to the Wizengamot about it, and instead of getting the publishers to stop selling that trash, he got a court order that forced them to hand over every single galleon, sickle and knut they earned for using my name and image without my permission. And everyone quickly got the message not to try to do that again, I can tell you!"

"But, but, but..." Hermione looked stunned and shocked.

"Different culture, different rules," Ron said frankly. "Tell you what – once we get to Hogwarts, why don't we set up a study group? Harry and I give you the inside knowledge and etiquette lessons regarding the wizarding world, and you help us with our class work. What do you say?"

"I'll have to think about it," Hermione said vaguely, her mind obviously elsewhere. Then she focused and added, "But I will give you an answer soon, I promise. Anyway, I was wondering about the sorting ceremony – do either of you know how it's done, by any chance? I couldn't find any details in any of the books, you see. And I'm hoping for either Gryffindor or Ravenclaw – oh, which House do you two think you'll end up in?"

"No clue about the sorting, it's tradition for it to be a 'surprise.' And myself, I'm guessing either Slytherin or Hufflepuff, like one of my parents. But whichever one it is, I'm hoping Harry will be in it as well," Ron gestured to his friend.

"Same here. And me? I dunno. Sirius reckons I'm a sure thing for Gryffindor, Ron as well – but..." Harry trailed off.

"But what?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Sometimes I can't help wondering whether Sirius sees my father in me, and himself in Ron, just a bit too much," Harry confided.

"Actually, that's far more common than you might think," Hermione began to lecture her companions, sounding far too knowledgeable for any normal eleven-year-old. "I've read about it, and that's how I know that psychological projection is a defense mechanism many people subconsciously employ, in order to cope with difficult feelings or emotions. Especially those brought about by trauma or loss!"

"I have to admit, you do remind me a lot of Remus Lupin – he's the honorary uncle to both Harry and me," Ron shook his head in amazement, before he smiled at the young witch. "And that's quite a compliment, you know; he's one of the smartest wizards I've ever met!"

"Well, I think we've definitely found our third Marauder," Harry said to Ron, raising his eyebrows. "What do you reckon?"

"Marauder? What?" Hermione looked at both of them in confusion.

"My godfather, Harry's dad, Harry's godfather and their friend, Uncle Remus; that's what they called themselves, when they were in school," Ron shrugged. "Hrmm. Yeah, all right – but if Harry's Prongslet and I'm Heliopath – for now, anyway – what Marauder name would you like? I mean, what best describes the inner Hermione Granger?"

"Oh! Well, the children at the muggle primary school I attended, they all called me names like 'bookworm' and 'know-it-all'," Hermione confessed, looking down.

"Well, that won't do," Harry shook his head. "No, not at all! Um, how about..." he trailed off.

"How about Mane?" Ron suggested. "Your hair, you know, it's very distinctive. Reminds me of my sister, when she went through that 'bushy hair' phase – even if Tonks' hair was that awful shade of pink!"

"Well, I don't know," Hermione said uncertainly, chewing her lip for a moment. "I mean, I'm not sure I even want to be part of your group yet!"

"Don't be silly. You can't fight fate," Harry tsk'ed. "It was obviously destined for you to join us. So I say welcome, Lady Mane, into the next generation of the Marauders!"

"Hear, hear," Ron added, smiling. "All hail the first female Marauder of her time!" He then ignited a fireball in his right hand, and it floated upwards towards the ceiling of the compartment, before it flamed out.

"How did you-? That was wandless magic, wasn't it? That's, that's N.E.W.T. level work! Tell me, please, how did you-?" Hermione started to babble again excitedly.

"I'm a pyromagus," Ron admitted simply, as Harry rolled his eyes.

"A what?" Hermione's eyes almost bugged out with disbelief.

"Oh, you'll soon learn all our secrets, if you join up with Ron and me. What do you say, Lady Mane? Will you accept us into your heart?" Harry struck an exaggerated pose, Sirius's influence making itself known to Ron instantly – and this time, he was the one who rolled his eyes.

"Oh, stop it," Hermione giggled slightly. "All right, fine. I suppose I could do a lot worse than you two in terms of friends, couldn't I?"

"You couldn't find two more loyal friends in all of wizarding Britain, milady!" Harry struck another exaggerated pose.

"Well, yeah. But we still need a fourth Marauder, you know," Ron said musingly, ignoring Harry's theatrics. "What do you think the odds are he or she will walk in through that door, anytime soon?"

And right on cue, Neville Longbottom (someone who, in this timeline, had been raised by his parents instead of his grandmother) knocked and stuck his head inside the compartment. "Hullo. Sorry to bother you all, but has anyone seen a toad by the name of Trevor, by any chance?"

"You said that just now on purpose," Harry accused his best friend, and the events of the next seven years were finally set into motion.

And if the antics of the new generation of Marauders were to cause Albus Dumbledore to have a hatal fart attack, as Sirius would put it – then surely that was a cheap price to pay for the Greater Good working its will, throughout the British wizarding world?

The End...

For now!