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ONCE THEY REACHED HONEYDUKES, Robyn, Fred, and George set out to find the others. After fighting their way through crowds of students packed tightly into the narrow aisles of sugary candy, they reached the door out into the streets of Hogsmeade.

There was a heavy layer of snow packed across the cobblestone streets, disturbed by dozens of footprints that left slippery patches of slightly-melted ice along the roads. The trio marched their way through the cold snow to Zonko's to meet up with Rose, Flynn, and Lisa, careful not to slip on a hidden patch of ice as they made their way to the joke shop.

Zonko's was even more crowded than usual. Displays of sugar quills and nose-biting teacups were encircled by large groups of students, eager to get their Christmas shopping done before they left for the holidays. Robyn, Fred, and George shuffled their way to the back corner of the shop where they stocked the nastier products. The air reeked of Dungbombs, Stink Pellets, and smoke from Dr. Filibuster's Fabulous Wet-Start, No-Heat Fireworks, and that back corner was where their group spent most of their time when in the joke shop.

Just as they expected, their friends were waiting for them when they arrived. Lisa hopped up from where she was squatted on the floor, scouring through products on the lowest shelf.

"So what held you guys up?" Lisa asked, smiling widely. Robyn glanced up to meet George's eye as she felt her heart sink. She hated going behind Lisa's back, but lying to her face was doubly worse.

"Just thought we'd ask Harry if he wanted us to bring him anything back," Fred replied without missing a beat. Robyn broke her gaze with George to look at Lisa, nodding slightly. From behind Lisa, Robyn saw Rose raise an eyebrow.

However, Lisa didn't notice that anything was out of the ordinary. "That's so sweet!" she said. "Let's get started then! What'd he say he wanted?"

"Um, some Hiccough Sweets, a few Chocolate Frogs, and a butterbeer from the Three Broomsticks," Robyn said, feeling her voice hitch in her throat. This time it was Flynn that met her eye, shaking her head silently.

But Lisa still hadn't caught on. Desperate to change the subject, Robyn glanced up at Fred, trying to inconspicuously attract his attention. She could feel the guilt of lying to one of her best friends clawing at the insides of her stomach, and she needed a distraction.

However, just as Fred and Robyn locked eyes, a loud squeal erupted from behind them, diverting the entire group's attention away from the conversation and towards the source of the sound. Robyn quickly looked away, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath before turning around to face the human epitome of annoyance that awaited her.

While Jacinda Bradley's loud voice provided the distraction that Robyn wanted, it certainly wasn't what Robyn had in mind.

"Merry Christmas, everyone!" Jackie said, her voice far too high-pitched for any normal human being. Out of the corner of her eye, Robyn could see Flynn physically wince.

"Merry Christmas, Jackie," Rose replied, ever the most polite member of the group. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, I've just been looking everywhere for Freddie, and I wasn't gonna come back in here because this was the first place I checked for him, right? But then I thought, 'maybe I missed him the first time,' so I came in again just to double-check, and it turns out he was here all along! Silly me!" Jackie giggled, and for a moment Robyn wasn't sure if she was hearing laughter or the squeaking of a dying mouse.

"Anyways, Freddie and I have a lot of shopping to do, so we better get going! C'mon, babe!" And before anyone could object, Jackie grabbed Fred by the arm and yanked him behind her as she made her way out of the store. Fred looked back at the group and gave them all a pained smile before disappearing behind an aisle of Twirling Tidbits.

George sighed, shaking his head. "Poor Fred. May he forever rest in peace, loved to death by a girl he doesn't love in return." He held a hand to his heart and bowed his head low in feigned mourning. Robyn felt her heart stop for a moment.

Flynn's eyebrows shot up in surprise while Lisa pouted, grabbing onto George's arm. "That's so sad," she said.

"Sad? Merlin's beard, that's fucking brilliant! Maybe we'll finally be rid of her soon after all," Flynn replied with a grin.

Robyn slowly shook her head, realization washing over her. "Jackie may not give him a choice," she said quietly, and the smile on Flynn's face quickly slid off into a frustrated frown. Lisa's brow furrowed worriedly.

"Come on, let's get down to the Three Broomsticks so we can pick up Harry that butterbeer," Rose interjected, trying to change the subject. The rest of the group nodded, and the remaining five of them left Zonko's to trudge down the sloping hill to the Three Broomsticks at the end of the road.

As the group approached the pub, Robyn glanced in the window to see Harry, Ron, and Hermione sitting around a table, all chatting while holding mugs of steaming butterbeer. Without thinking, Robyn stopped dead in her tracks. There was no way she could let Lisa see her little cousin sitting in there. Harry, you dumbass! What am I supposed to do now? she thought.

"Robyn, why'd you stop? Are you okay?" Lisa asked kindly, resting a hand on Robyn's shoulder.

Robyn bit the inside of her cheek as that feeling of guilt began to claw at her insides again. Lying to Lisa was even more difficult considering how incredibly sweet she was. "Yeah, yeah I'm alright," Robyn said, feeling her voice catch on her throat. "It just occurred to me, wouldn't it be easier if you and George went and got the candy for Harry over at Honeydukes? We don't need all five of us to get one butterbeer. We can get it and meet you over there."

Ever the oblivious one, Lisa nodded eagerly, entirely unaware of the growing pit of nausea in Robyn's stomach from lying to one of her best friends. However, she was also unaware of her cousin in the pub right beside them. "That's a great idea! What do you think, George? We could also get a little for ourselves, too, while we're there."

George nodded, following Lisa back through the snow towards the sweets shop at the top of the hill. As soon as they were out of earshot, Flynn rounded on Robyn.

"Alright, what the bloody hell's goin' on here?" she snapped, folding her arms and giving Robyn a pointed stare.

Robyn sighed. "Just...come on." With that, she led the other two into the Three Broomsticks.

They pushed open the doors to be welcomed by a gust of warm air that carried the fragrances of butterscotch, pine, and cranberries. The inn was packed full of Hogwarts students and staff as well as local residents eager to warm up next to a hot fire with a warm mug of butterbeer. Dozens of conversations overlapped into one solid hum, but one voice stood out from the rest as it called across the room:

"Welcome, girls, what can I get for you?" The voice belonged to the pub's owner, Madam Rosmerta, who was passing out glasses of firewhisky to a group of rowdy warlocks up at the front bar.

"Three butterbeers, please," Robyn replied as she took her coat and gloves off. Madam Rosmerta nodded, disappearing behind the bar for a moment before returning with three mugs of steaming, foaming butterbeer, bringing them over to the front of the building to give them to the three girls.

"I've got it," Flynn said, reaching into her pocket. She dropped a handful of Sickles into Madam Rosmerta's hand, who nodded in thanks before making her way back to the bar, her glittering emerald heels clacking on the hardwood floor.

Robyn led Rose and Flynn towards the back of the room by the window where Harry, Ron, and Hermione were sitting. As they approached, Harry's face paled, while Ron and Hermione gave them warm smiles.

"Hey, Harry," said Robyn. "Thought you'd be a little more careful than this, yeah?"

"Lisa's not with you, is she?" he asked frantically.

Flynn looked over at Robyn, eyebrows raised in understanding. "No, she went to Honeydukes with George. It's just us," she said.

"Can we sit with you?" Robyn asked. The trio nodded, and Flynn, Rose, and Robyn pulled up another table and chairs to join up with them.

"Alright, Robyn. What's going on?" Rose reached over Flynn to grab Robyn's butterbeer out of her hands. "Why are you lying to Lisa, and how is Harry here?"

"Fred, George, and I gave him the Map," said Robyn.

"Merlin's beard. No shit, then. She's gonna be pissed when she finds out," said Flynn.

"She's not going to find out," Harry interjected. "At least, I hope not."

"She will if you keep this shit up, sitting out in the open like this," Flynn shot back.

"We've got no issue with you breaking a few rules," Rose said with a wink, "but you're smarter than this, Harry. You need to be more careful."

A sudden, bitterly cold wind gusted across Robyn's shoulders and through her hair. She pushed her hair out of her face, turning to see who had entered the pub. Standing in the front doorway dusting the snow off their coats was Professors McGonagall and Flitwick, Hagrid, and the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge.

"Speaking of being careful..." Ron muttered. The group shared a look before grabbing Harry and quickly shoving him under the table. Hermione and Robyn seemed to think the same thing, as they both turned, pulled out their wands, and muttered, "Mobiliarbus!" The two Christmas trees that stood nearby rose gently off the ground, floated over just a few inches, and landed softly, concealing their large group from view.

Just in luck, in fact, as the professors and minister all took their seats at the table right next to theirs. Robyn could see right through the branches of one of the trees to Fudge, who looked incredibly exhausted as he slumped in his chair.

Madam Rosmerta arrived at their table and passed around drinks, before sitting down to join them herself. "So, what brings you to this neck of the woods, Minister?" she asked.

Fudge looked around cautiously, as if looking for eavesdroppers, before saying in a hushed tone, "What else, m'dear, but Sirius Black? I daresay you heard what happened up at the school at Halloween?"

"I did hear a rumor," Madam Rosmerta admitted.

"Did you tell the whole pub, Hagrid?" Professor McGonagall scoffed. Flynn snorted. Rose elbowed her in the ribs.

"Do you think Black's still in the area, Minister?" Madam Rosmerta whispered.

"I'm sure of it," Fudge replied.

"You know that the Dementors have searched the whole village twice?" Madam Rosmerta snapped. "Scared all my customers away... It's very bad for business, Minister."

"I know, I don't like them either," Fudge replied. "It's a... necessary precaution, however. Dumbledore won't let them in the castle, though, and they're in a right fit about it."

"Of course Dumbledore won't," said Professor McGonagall sharply. "How are we supposed to teach with those horrors floating around?"

"Hear, hear!" agreed Professor Flitwick with a hiccup.

"All the same," Fudge said, waving off Professor McGonagall, "they are here to protect you all from something much worse... We all know what Black's capable of."

"Y'know, I still can't believe it sometimes," said Madam Rosmerta. "Of all the people to go over to the Dark Side, I never would've thought Sirius... I mean, I remember when he was a boy at Hogwarts. If you'd told me then what he was going to become, I'd have said you'd had too much to drink."

"You don't even know the worst of it, Rosmerta," said Fudge.

"The worst? What could possibly be worse?"

"You remember his best friend in school?" asked Professor McGonagall.

"Of course!" replied Madam Rosmerta, laughing slightly. "Never one without the other, that devilish duo, Sirius Black and James Potter!"

Robyn glanced over at Flynn, whose chin rested on the table next to her empty mug of butterbeer, a deep glower stricken across her face.

"Potter trusted Black beyond all his other friends," said Fudge. "Nothing changed when they left school. Black was best man when James married Lily, and James for Black when he married Christina Griffiths. Then they named him godfather to Harry. Harry has no idea, of course. You can imagine how the idea would torment him."

Robyn saw Flynn's brow furrow in the flickering light of the fireplace. Godfather? she mouthed.

"Because Black turned out to be in league with You-Know-Who?" whispered Madam Rosmerta.

"Even worse than that, my dear," replied Fudge. "Not many people are aware that the Potters knew You-Know-Who was after them. Dumbledore, who was of course working tirelessly against You-Know-Who, had a number of useful spies. One of them tipped him off, and he alerted James and Lily at once. He advised them to go into hiding. Well, of course, You-Know-Who wasn't an easy person to hide from. Dumbledore told them that their best chance was the Fidelius Charm, and Black was the Potters' Secret-Keeper."

"James Potter told Dumbledore that Black would die rather than tell where they were, that Black was planning to go into hiding himself... and yet, Dumbledore remained worried. I remember him offering to be the Potters' Secret-Keeper himself," Professor McGonagall added. "He was sure that somebody close to the Potters had been keeping You-Know-Who informed of their movements. Indeed, he had suspected for some time that someone on our side had turned traitor and was passing a lot of information to You-Know-Who."

"And then, barely a week after the Fidelius Charm had been performed..." said Fudge.

"Black betrayed them!" whispered Madam Rosmerta heavily. Flynn's scowl grew larger, and Robyn saw her fists clench tightly around her empty mug.

"He did indeed," said Fudge with a sigh. "Black was tired of his double-agent role, he was ready to declare his support openly for You-Know-Who, and he seems to have planned this for the moment of the Potters'death. But, as we all know, You-Know-Who met his downfall in little Harry Potter. Powers gone, horribly weakened, he fled. And this left Black in a very nasty position indeed. His master had fallen at the very moment when he, Black, had shown his true colors as a traitor. He had no choice but to run for it."

"But he didn't manage to disappear, did he?" said Madam Rosmerta. "The Ministry of Magic caught up with him next day!"

"Alas, if only we had," Fudge muttered. "It was not we who found him. It was little Peter Pettigrew — another of the Potters' friends. Maddened by grief, no doubt, and knowing that Black had been the Potters' Secret-Keeper, he went after Black himself."

"Pettigrew..." Madam Rosmerta trailed off, as if in thought. "The little lump of a boy, always tailing off after them?"

"Pettigrew died a hero's death," said Fudge sadly. "Eyewitnesses—Muggles, of course, we wiped their memories later—told us how Pettigrew cornered Black. They say he was sobbing, 'Lily and James, Sirius! How could you?' And then he went for his wand. Well, of course, Black was quicker. Blew Pettigrew to smithereens. All that was left of him was a finger. Just his pinkie finger! When we got there, all that remained was this big crater, and bodies everywhere, and Black standing there laughing with what was left of Pettigrew in front of him."

Fudge paused, dabbing his eyes with a lavender handkerchief he'd pulled from his waistcoat. "Black was taken away by twenty members of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad and Pettigrew received the Order of Merlin, First Class, which I think was some comfort to his poor mother. Black's been in Azkaban ever since."

"My, what a story," said Madam Rosmerta with a heavy sigh. "Why, you remember the one about the Dumbledores, don't you?"

Hagrid sniffled loudly. "Wha' about Dumbledore?"

"Not Albus Dumbledore. His great-nephew, Abraham. Aberforth's grandson, I believe?" said Professor McGonagall.

"He was always a bit of a worrisome fellow. Those Dumbledores and their tempers, you know, we had to keep our eye on Abraham, just in case he went sour like the others," said Fudge, with an air about his voice that implied he was very tired of talking.

Madam Rosmerta, however, didn't notice. "And he sure did. Lost his mind, that is. What was it, St. Valentine's Day of '78, if I remember right?"

Fudge nodded curtly. "Saddest Valentine's Day I've ever seen. Got a report from the Muggle Prime Minister of a mysterious mass murdering in Cokeworth. The Minister at the time, Harold Minchum, sent me and a couple hit wizards down and we found half a dozen Muggles just lying there, dead in the streets."

Rose leaned forward and tapped Robyn's arm. "Aren't you from Cokeworth?" she whispered. Robyn nodded slowly, beginning to feel a wave of realization wash over her. She would have been there. She would have been just two days old.

"The trail led us to the Dumbledore's house, where we found Abraham, standing in his sitting room above the bodies of his wife Amber and their newborn child. He was just standing there. Didn't say anything. He killed his wife and kid, and didn't show any remorse for it. I mean, that infant had to have been just born," said Fudge.

All of a sudden, Flynn sat up straight. Amber! she mouthed. Rose had her hand over her mouth in shock.

"What was the baby's name?" asked Professor Flitwick.

"That's the thing, Filius," said Professor McGonagall, "Amber and Abraham went into hiding from the Ministry before the baby was born, so her name's not in our registry, and both Amber and Abraham are long dead now. We don't know what her name was."

"The fact of the matter, Minerva, is that we don't need to know the name of the baby. It's dead. And good thing Abraham killed it so we didn't have to. Good riddance to the Dumbledore line, I'd say. They were nasty for us at the Ministry to deal with. Horrifically nasty. Too many Muggle murders to cover up," said Fudge matter-of-factly.

An eerie silence fell over the group of adults. Flynn and Rose stared at Robyn, shocked, while Hermione and Ron looked over at them in confusion. Robyn merely diverted her eyes, instead turning her attention to stare at her empty butterbeer glass.

Finally, a loud cough broke the silence. "Well, then, Cornelius, if you're dining with the headmaster, we'd better head back up to the castle," said Professor McGonagall.

The sound of shuffling chairs and stepping feet filled the air for several seconds as the professors and minister bade Madam Rosmerta goodbye. They made their way over to the front door and let in another cold gust of air upon their exit.

As soon as they were gone, Rose leaned forward and folded her muscled arms on the table. "Merlin's beard," she said with a sigh.

"Robyn..." Flynn started. "If we're right, and that story is about you, then...the Ministry thinks you're dead."

Robyn paused, then nodded slowly. "The Ministry wants me dead."