Sasha padded into the common room, looking exactly like my sister from my childhood, instead of the cruel and rule-following girl I'd known this year. She wore a faded Ruby series t-shirt that we'd found in a jumble sale in Diagon Alley three years ago and her hair in untidy plaits.

She curled up on the sofa next to me and looked very solemn. She was biting her nails and looked afraid.

"So, what is it?" I broke the silence first. "Are you going to scream at me again?"

"No."

I frowned. "Has something happened with Cedric?"

"No." she said too quickly. "Well, kinda. There's a lot I want to talk about."

Putting my book down, I squished up into her side, her curls tickling my forehead. "We've got time. And you never open up about things." My eyes flickered to her scarred wrists. "Not for a long time."

Sasha gave me a faint smile. "I'm tired of holding everything in. I want to speak to you—I trust you more than anybody in the whole world, Lyra." My stomach twisted in anticipation. "I'm going to speak for a hell of a long time—so please, please don't interrupt me."

"Okay."

Sasha began.

**

I know you think I hate our Father, but I don't. I loved him so much. He's the reason I love reading so much—he would do silly voices and act the dramatic parts out—and after Mum was kidnapped he was my whole world. Even though I was little, I remember that he was a hero—he saved Mum from the bad men.

I wanted to be just like him when I grew up.

But then he left, and I hated him. Mum tried to fool me, tell me he was a muggle-but I knew, I could still remember him creating fireflies from nothing to help us both sleep. But I was like you, Lyra—I didn't know he was in Azkaban until my first day at Hogwarts.

Some older students recognised Dad from the newspapers when they were little—and me as a result. It was horrible those first few weeks---if it wasn't for Fred and George, I would have wanted to transfer schools.

I was horrified that this murderous man was my Father, and I became determined that I would make the name Black good for us—good for you. I wanted something better---you know I want to work with dragons, Ly, and how much I love my books. I wanted something more than a cursed family name.

It was just before my second year that I noticed Cedric. He was so effortlessly kind to others, and to him smiles cost nothing. He became my fantasy—somebody who could keep me grounded, stop me spiralling into my thoughts of family curses, and worrying about how Hogwarts would treat you, Lyra.

And I was happy. But then, I failed you. And please don't even squeak, Lyra—because it felt like I failed you. I should have kept a closer eye on you and your friends---and God, I was a third year, I should have been able to overpower you...

Then when I found out you were in a coma, after saving one of your friend's lives I was heartbroken. I thought I was just like Dad—that I'd failed Mum, failed you... So, I stopped caring too much. I stopped caring at all.

The only way I can describe how I felt that year... it was like my soul was too small for my body. I felt empty, and I didn't cry, I didn't laugh. I started cutting my skin, trying to feel again but I just felt worse.

In my head, I thought nobody would want to help me, or understand what was happening in my head. I decided that there would be no filters in my life anymore—I would do what I wanted.

If I wanted to sleep in the Forbidden forest, I would. If I wanted to do homework next to my comatose sister, I would. If Elijah was asking too many questions, I'd expose his family history (which I still feel shite about, even though he forgave me). If I wanted to steal Firewhiskey from the kitchens and snog George when he tried to stop me----

Yes, Lyra, I snogged George—I thought you said you wouldn't interrupt? I wasn't very sane at the time, and it was an effective way to get away from him. But everything's cool—it's not like he loves me or anything.

But then... then I decided I wanted to absail down the Astronomy tower. Then I slipped and fell. I was lucky to land on the Charms corridor roof... So, Mum was called and I was sent to St Mungo's for four months.

Look, I'm sorry I didn't tell you—I just, I just---needed to get better without you watching me. I want to be the best big sister I can be.

The healers said I have moderate Bipolar disorder, and a touch of depression. Being bipolar means sometimes I have episodes when I get super happy, and sometimes I'll get sad. That's the simple way of explaining it—and it makes sense. It took a while, but they found me the best medication—and of course, the depression decreased a bit when you woke up.

Just before I was released from hospital, last March, Cedric visited. He confessed his feelings for me, told me he'd loved me for a while. He thought I was too cool to love him back, which was funny because I'd thought the same about him.

Things were good for a while, as you know. Then Dad escaped. I felt like things were closing in. He told us he was innocent, but then I was so confused. If he was innocent, why wasn't he doing it the legal way? Why was he running? Why had he taken thirteen years for him to try and get us back?

I was so angry at him—angry at myself for falling apart last year, angry at you and Mum for believing him so easily. I know I was out of line at Christmas—I just—I'm sorry. Things have changed now.

Last week, I talked to Elijah and he showed me your research. I was so stupid Lyra, only seeing what I wanted to see. There are so many un-answered questions about Pettigrew for it to be a coincidence. And I highly doubt Dad would send us all presents if he didn't think he had a shot of getting back to us...

I was so stupid, scared of things being complicated, scared that I was wrong about Dad. But I'm with you all the way, Lyra. I want to help prove Dad's innocence. All these things you've researched, it's like the world has focused again... Things are making sense. He's trying to find his way back to us---and this time, I'm going to help lead the way.

**

Open mouthed, I stared at my older sister. She'd always been my older sister, but after all that she'd talked about she seemed to have aged several years. She took a long gulp of a glass of water, looking nervous.

"So, are you going to say something?" Sasha said, almost timidly. She sounded like she did when she accidently broke one of Mum's vases when we were little. "I talked for like a good twenty minutes—you can talk now."

There had been so many questions I'd wanted to butt in, but Sasha had forced me to keep my mouth shut. Instead, I blurted out the one I'd wanted to ask her since the moment I woke up.

"Can I heal your scars?"

Sasha bit on her lip, and slowly rolled up her undershirt. Neat lines coated her left arm, and zig-zags dotted her right one.

"I'm right handed, can't you tell?" she joked.

"Sasha..."

She dropped her sleeves and wrapped herself around me like a soft blanket. "I—Lyra, your powers are special, damn special, no matter how much suffering Mum went through for you to have them. Your powers are meant to help people."

"I want to help you!" my voice cracked. This conversation was more difficult than I thought.

"Yeah, but you should use them to save people who need it. Like saving Kat from being stabbed, or Harry from being poisoned... Not covering up the result of my mental breakdown."

I fumbled for her hands in the darkened common room. "Sasha, I won't heal you if you don't want me to. But I want to. You're my sister, and I control what I use my powers for. I choose you."

Sasha sniffed loudly, and I didn't need to look to see she was on the verge of tears. "It feels so selfish, though."

I reached out, and lightly poked her cheek. Hazily, I could remember when it was how I communicated with Sasha to say 'please' before I could talk properly.

"Okay." She said quietly. "I suppose others would take the opportunity if they could..."

Sasha rolled her sleeves up, and I wrapped my hands around her scarred arms. Slowly, I reached into my power, and drew little snippets out. It didn't take much of my energy---it was a lot easier than healing open wounds, and within seconds the pinkish marks had all but disappeared.

Tiny flecks of white lined her arms and a smile curled on her face. "Thank you." She kissed me lightly on the cheek, her nose cold.

The two of us huddled together for a moment, and my heart filled with warmth and love for my sister again. "So, you've got a dog patronus?" I broke the silence.

Sasha smiled into my shoulder. "So, if you try to punch a dementor again, I can be there and swallow it whole."

I giggled. "I don't think that's how it works."

She reached into my lap and picked up The Hollow Ruby. "So which part are you on?"

"Lacey and Hollie are going into the Whispering Forest to save the diamond dragon eggs."

"Let's read together." She opened the page I'd bookmarked. "The Whispering wood was called so, because so many lost souls had been buried there and peasants swore they could hear them wail at night..."

**

It was gone three am, when the common room door creaked open. Sasha and I looked up. We'd been reading together for hours, curled in front of the fire like cats. Looking up, I was surprised to see Mum, wearing her pyjamas.

"Girls." She said solemnly, and Sasha and I shared a look.

"Did they catch him?" Sasha's voice wobbled.

Mum shook her head and sat on the chair next to us. She stared into the fire. "He was lurking in the Gryffindor common room—some third year left the new passwords lying around—"

"Oh yeah, Fred said their guardian has been changing the password every day." I remembered. "He—he didn't go into Harry's dorm, did he?"

Mum shook her head. "A fourth-year boy, Cole Everett left his book down there and found your Father. He mistook him for Harry."

Sasha cracked a smile, which surprised me. "In that he has dark hair and glasses?"

Mum scowled at her. "Well, anyway—Cole told McGonagall that your Father believed he was Harry and told him he was only looking for a rat."

"A rat?" we chorused.

Mum sighed. "Yes, he claims he was looking for a rat. Cole told him he knew where the rat was and told him to stay there. But instead he got McGonagall and myself---but he was gone when we got to the tower."

Staring into the fire, I couldn't help sigh in relief that Dad had gotten away safely. But he was becoming careless, impatient.

"He's looking for Pettigrew..." I trailed off. "I suppose he is a rat if he betrayed Dad, but he wouldn't be in Gryffindor Tower..."

Mum almost slid off her chair. She scrambled to her feet. She looked as if she'd seen a ghost. "You—you both think Peter is alive—and that he framed your Father?"

"Yes." We chorused, and I warmed at Sasha's solidarity. Then I added. "Elijah and I have been doing research since we came back from Christmas---we think that maybe he faked his death, and then had that baby with Katherine's mother."

"A dead man couldn't get into the school though." Sasha frowned. "He must be impatient for us to find something big..."

Mum let out a deep, rattling breath. "A rat... of course... of course..." she wrapped her dressing gown around herself. "Girls—get some sleep. Things are going to get crazier around here..."

She hurried from the common room, while Sasha and I exchanged a glance. "What was that about?" Sasha demanded.

"I have no idea."

**

There wasn't much drama regarding Dad breaking into the Castle again—apart from Cole, who ended up being the point of interest of the fourth year. Elijah said it was insufferable as Cole thought he was a hero for getting the teachers: Elijah thought he was a lame Harry Potter impersonator.

Mum didn't shed any light on her strange behaviour that night in the common room, though she did seem more on edge these days. Cassie and Kat were more open than ever which was good: but Cassie practically lived in our dormitory, still betrayed by Daphne's behaviour.

But March turned into April. The Quidditch Final passed, and Gryffindor won. Fred, George and Harry were elated and couldn't stop talking about the match in detail for a good few weeks.

Fred kept claiming I was his good luck charm, as I let him wear the necklace my Father gave me. I didn't mind—I wasn't the biggest for superstitions, but I had the sweetest and most passionate kiss on the Quidditch pitch, so I wasn't complaining.

On the final week of April, Sasha posted a notice on the common room board. She looked gloomy as people crowded around to look and she joined me, Cassie and Kat on one of the sofas.

"What's crawled up your bum and died?" I asked her, and she angrily shook out a copy of the Quibbler. It was a magazine Elijah loved to read, and often bought extra copies for us: it was good, but weird.

Sasha huffed. "It's the last trip to Hogsmeade this weekend."

"Oh yay!" Cassie exclaimed, abruptly stopping her plaiting of Kat's hair. "Oh—wait, no, that sucks."

After Dad had broken into the castle (again) Mum had been told by Dumbledore that under no circumstances could we leave the castle. Sasha and I had shrugged it off, thinking there wouldn't be any other visits: how wrong we were.

"It's not a total loss of a day." Kat pointed out. "You can both do more research."

I turned to my sister. "We would have the library to ourselves.... First and second years are allergic to it..." then I realised something. "Unless you already have plans with Cedric this weekend."

"No." Sasha said instantly, almost too quickly. "I'm all yours."

I raised my eyebrow but didn't press the matter further.

**

That Saturday began with Hermione storming up to the Hufflepuff table and grabbing me by the arm without a word. "Hey—what's the matter—" I tried to speak, or ask for back up from Kat or Cassie, but Hermione's grip on my arm was too strong.

"Try and talk some sense into this idiot." Hermione said, as we reached the Gryffindor table where an annoyed looking Harry and Ron were sat. She lowered her voice. "He's going to go to Hogsmeade!"

"Harry!" I hissed, squishing in-between him and Ron. "You can't!"

Harry scowled at me. "You're the one who said the other day you and Sasha are close to proving your Dad's innocence! He wouldn't hurt me!"

"I know that." I lowered my voice to barely above a whisper. Nobody could overhear this. "But Mum said there's twice as many dementors in Hogsmeade than the start of the year. And if you remember, you're not the strongest around them."

Harry seemed to take this as a personal offence. "I'm going, and you can't stop me."

"C'mon Lyra, lighten up." Ron grinned at me. Him and Hermione still weren't speaking. "Don't let this pet-murderer bring you down."

I stood closely to Hermione in solidarity. She was frazzling with anger as she leant down and whispered: "I'll tell McGonagall about the map."

Harry and Ron gasped. Harry narrowed his eyes. "You wouldn't."

"We would." I said, though I was bluffing. They didn't need to know that. "You are being an idiot, Harry."

"He is." Elijah appeared over my shoulder, and I realised he'd been standing there a while, silently. "Like dude, if you want to be snogged by a dementor—go for it."

A flash of guilt flashed across Harry's face, but he said firmly again: "I'm going and you can't stop me."

Hermione tutted. "If even Elijah Carrow says you shouldn't go—"

"And what is that meant to mean?"

Hermione blushed. "Well you did set fire to your dorm—"

Elijah began to visibly sweat. "That was one time—"

Harry and Ron then decided to ignore the three of us, so seeing they were a lost cause, we headed to the library.

Elijah, Sasha, Hermione and I were crowded around one table stacked high with messy papers and dozens of text books and articles. Hermione had another small stack of books next to her but was also helping us.

"So, you think drafting a letter to the Ministry would help?" Sasha asked hopefully.

Hermione nodded. "Yes. If you can attach significant evidence and cause for investigation—the Ministry can't ignore you." She sniffed loudly. "Unless they're all a bunch of bigots and animal haters—"

Elijah, Sasha and I exchanged a glance. "What's the matter, Hermione?" I asked.

Hermione looked deflated as she said: "Hagrid wrote to me this morning. They're going to execute Buckbeak."

The three of us started a storm of loud whispers—as loud as you could in the library anyway—and Sasha broke through the hubbub. "Why didn't you ask us for help with the appeal?"

Hermione shrugged. "I didn't want you all to worry about something else, on top of this spider's web of lies and truths." She pointed at our messy research. Then she sighed. "I'd really hoped our appeal did something---but Lucius Malfoy kept trying to claim Draco's arm almost fell off."

My heart panged at the thought of Cassie. "Are we the only ones who know?"

Hermione nodded sadly, clearly thinking the same lines as me. "I'll tell her later. She should enjoy her date with Kat for now."

"Poor Hagrid." My stomach twisted at the thought of Buckbeak being executed, but we had to push on with this task for now.

We were half-way through our draft to the Ministry, when Fred joined us, which was a lovely surprise. He swung onto the chair next to me, planting a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Hello, cupcake."

"Hello, pumpkin." I shot back, smiling. "I thought you were in Hogsmeade?"

Fred shrugged. "Turns out I'm completely oblivious—George and Angelina are on a date. I didn't want to be that guy."

Sasha looked up at Fred, an odd look on her face that I couldn't place. "George and Angelina? She didn't say anything to me about liking him."

Fred shrugged. "You know George—he's as secretive as he is loud." He frowned. "Wait---where's Harry? If you lot are here, shouldn't he as well?"

Hermione made an irritated noise. "He decided going to Honeydukes was worth the risk of a dementor's kiss and expulsion. Even when Lyra and I threatened to tell McGonagall about the map."

"He's an idiot." I agreed. "Especially since we could use him here, he's so good at spelling and I keep mis-spelling Pettigrew—"

Fred swore loudly and leapt out of his chair like Tigger from Winnie the Pooh. "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God—"

"Is he broken? Did we break him?" Elijah stood up, snapping his fingers in front of Fred's face. "Fred—we're in the library, it's 1994—"

Fred scowled at him, brushing his hand away. "I'm not broken—I just—I think I cracked the case." We all looked up at him expectantly. "I remembered something---you mentioned the map and then Pettigrew and it clicked---"

Sasha leant forward so far, she was practically on the table. "Well tell us Fred, please!"

Fred leant forward and whispered: "I've seen Peter Pettigrew on the map. When you started researching, I thought the name was familiar I just couldn't remember where from..."

We all sat there in silence for a moment, trying to process this. Hope was bubbling and fizzing in my chest like a cork on a Champagne bottle. I grabbed onto his hand tightly. "When—when did you see it—"

Fred racked his brains. "A good few times over the last couple of years—always in Harry's dorm. George and I assumed it was another Gryffindor—but then it would always be next to Ron, so we did wonder for a while if Ron liked guys and—"

"Your stupidity is not important." Sasha interrupted. "Did you see that name this year?"

Fred frowned. "Twice actually—before we gave the map to Harry. There was Peter Pettigrew in Harry's dorm, and then an invisible Pettigrew lurking on the charms corridor—"

Something dawned on me. Dad was looking for a rat. What if he meant literally? What if Pettigrew could turn into a rat?

I shared my thoughts with the group, and Elijah scribbled it all down, looking excited. "Yes—yes—this could be it! Why else would Sirius risk coming into the castle so much? And let's be honest, this place is old as shit—there could be hundreds of rats running around—" Elijah frowned. "Wait, what did you mean by an invisible Pettigrew?"

Fred himself looked puzzled. "Well George and I thought the map was broken, it was one reason we gave it to Harry. But sometimes we'd see the name Pettigrew flicker on the map, but the first name was always smudged.... Then it would disappear all together..."

Sasha dropped her ink pot, and it shattered on the floor, black smears catching on our shoes. "That has to be Pettigrew's child—they're in the castle."

Fred made an irritated noise. "Well if they were—then why wasn't their name showing up?"

Everything seemed to slow down around me, and something I'd thought about in the depths of the night surfaced into my brain. I hadn't wanted to believe it, and yet...

"I think Pettigrew's child has powers too, I think Kat's Mother was wrong about that—and whoever they are... they're unlike anything we've seen before."

------------

A/N  We're getting closer to the end.... But there will be a sequel, called 'Drops of Jupiter'

Just to ask you all in advance: how would you feel if I did a Q&A after this story is finished? You could ask about the characters, my writing process, your theories and I'd answer them! I remember the Q&A I did for Obliviate was fun, and I'd like to see what you're all thinking :)