The Blackthorns

*~*~* Hogwarts, November 29, 1974 *~*~*

*~*~* Hogwarts, November 29, 1974 *~*~*

In Gryffindor Tower, three boys struggled with a complex Transfiguration project. They were learning, secretly and illegally, to become animagus. They knew their forms and were working feverishly to actually transform. Animagus transformations were intense and difficult, but they were determined. They had to learn.

Screams of agony had finally tapered off into the lonely heartbroken howls of a wolf. So alone. Always so alone.

*~*~* Blackthorn House, November 29, 1974 *~*~*

Vi stared out the window of the tower library, a mug of tea held in her hand. There was a corkboard installed on the wall and all the information they had gleaned from the years of Harry and Hermoine were there. Timelines, deaths, Horcruxes (was that the proper plural of that?), lists of death eaters, lists of order members, anything and everything. So many things depended on timing. What could they be doing now? That's what she had been wrestling with as she stared out at the full moon.

She knew, of course, that Damocles Belby was going to perfect the Wolfsbane potion sometime in the early eighties, but tonight she could only think of Remus. The years he would suffer. Alone, since she didn't think the boys had completed their transformations yet. She remembered Sirius commenting that they spent their first full moon together in 5th year. Then there was the journal that held her notes on the animagus transformation. What Evan was teaching Baz and Vi was nothing like what she had seen in Sirius's journal. There was no potion, no stupid leaf.

To the border people magic was all about intent. You didn't need a specific incantation, all that did was direct the magic in your mind, you only needed to think about what you wanted to happen. It was a much simpler, and in her humble opinion more elegant, way of looking at magic. It also removed the concept of light and dark. It was all about intent. After some research into their creation and some honest soul-searching, she and Baz had agreed that the only spell they would flat-out refuse to use was the torture curse. There was no way to use that with good intent.

An arm dropped around her shoulders. She didn't need to look to know who it was and it wasn't as if his presence had startled her. The bond between them had only strengthened.

"We can't do much yet," She sighed with a flick of her eyes to the corkboard. "The ring. The locket, we have to wait for. We need to figure out a way to stop Regulus dying there. The diary has been made, but where is it now? The diadem will require access to Hogwarts. It's.."

"Isn't it just?"

She gave another heartfelt sigh. "He'll be all alone right now."

"I know. It's so odd. It's a sort of double vision sometimes. Our life now and the life then. It's funny how the magic worked. Our lives here parallel theirs in so many ways."

"Maestro Lopez-Ochoa comes to mind."

"It's better now though. When I think about that life, it's not so ...painful. I can work through it," Baz confessed.

"Yes, Unless I have...what do you and Dad call them 'Episodes'?"

"Sometimes. Sometimes when they're bad we call them 'attacks'," he mused.

"It's been getting better."

"I saw Ron in my last one."

"What?" Vi snapped her head around to him.

"He was trying to convince his wife they should name their son Harry. Didn't take much convincing."

"Who'd he marry?" Vi hissed in glee.