Facing Danger
Chapter 24: Reciprocity (Year 5)
By Anne B. Walsh
Author Notes:
BYOT. Lots of them.
Somewhere nearby, a baby was crying.
Harry groaned aloud, rolling onto his side and curling up. Merlin’s wand, I hurt everywhere, it feels like I was practicing Wronski Feints and didn’t pull up in time... what happened? Last thing I remember was looking at that stone archway, and being just about to touch that veil hanging in it...
From what he could see, he was still in the archway room, but there hadn’t been a baby here before, much less a screaming baby. Gritting his teeth, Harry dragged himself to his knees, then to his feet, shivering slightly as his pendants touched his chest. Where there was a baby, there had to be an adult to take care of it. He’d find them, he’d find out what was going on, and then maybe he’d get out of here...
He stepped around the corner of the archway and backed up involuntarily.
Streamers of silver light rushed past him into the archway, a gale-force wind made visible, dragging at him even where he stood out of its direct path. In the exact center of that gale lay a tiny, brown, naked baby, shrieking with indignation as the wind yanked at him. He’d fetched up against a slight projection in the stone dais, which was the only reason he hadn’t yet been pulled through the archway, but Harry could see the small body starting to rise from the sheer force of the wind—any second now, the power of the wind would overcome the obstacle in its way, and the baby would be gone—
No! Harry leapt forward before he could think, throwing himself between the baby and the arch, sheltering the child with his own body.
Then the wind caught hold of him, and he realized what a bad move he’d just made.
How can I—
The wind tore even the thought from him, as it did all thoughts except holding on. Harry kicked out of his shoes and dug his toes into the rock, struggling to breathe against the rush of the wind, and carefully detached one arm to scoop up the baby, now wide-eyed and silent.
"Got you," he breathed, cradling the infant to his chest. "Now we just have to—get out—"
"Animagus!" cried a woman’s voice, almost inaudible over the furious scream of the cheated wind. "Use Wolf, Harry—use Wolf!"
Wolf. Good idea. But—
"Your robes," a man called, a little louder than the woman, as though he were moving closer. "Use them like a cradle!"
Right. Harry undid the front clasp of his outer Hogwarts robes, then slid his top arm out of them, bracing harder with his toes to make up for the lost grip of his fingers. The next part would be the hardest—getting the robes out from under him without being dragged away in the process—
"Roll on your back," the woman counseled, her voice now stronger as well. "Get your other arm out. Then pull the robes forward, slow and steady. Don’t rush."
It seemed to take an hour, including one heart-stopping moment when Harry nearly lost his grip, but finally a crumpled pile of fabric lay before him. Harry lifted the baby again and laid him on top of the robes, then pulled as much cloth as possible to the top from both sides. I’ll only get one shot at this...which way do I go?
"Go to the side," said the man’s voice, which was coming from behind him. "Small steps, keep your paws on the ground." It sounded almost like Padfoot, but Harry didn’t have time to think about the ways he knew it wasn’t. The wind was getting stronger, if he didn’t start moving now he never would—
Planting hands and feet on the ground, he transformed. The effort pulled him up onto his paws, and the baby shrieked again as the wind caught at him—
No you don’t! Wolf snapped his jaws shut on the robes swathing the human cub, then began to shuffle forward in a strange parody of his usual movements. It wasn’t enough, he could feel the wind still dragging at him, he’d lose his balance in a moment—
Have to get low. He dropped to his belly, as though he were abasing himself before a wronged alpha. Low. Low like worm. Or snake.
Paws worked against the stone, and in a moment they were moving. The cub was wailing inside his improvised cradle, but Wolf didn’t have time to listen. He was focused on two things and two things only. Stay low. Keep moving. The world narrowed to those two things, it had never been anything else, he would be crawling out of this impossible wind forever—
And then his nose poked out of the edge of the wind, and his ears followed. A few seconds of frantic struggle later, Wolf lay panting beside the archway, the cub tucked between his paws, whimpering but settling down quickly. He would have to find the little one’s mother before much longer, but for now he was grateful they had survived the tempest.
We wouldn’t have, if it wasn’t for whoever told me what to do. Harry slipped back to the top of the mind without bothering to retransform. I wish I knew who they were. I’d like to thank them.
"No need to wish," said the woman’s voice, coming from beside and all around him. "We’ll come to you."
"You stay put," the man added. "After what you just did, I don’t want to take any chances!"
Harry nodded, then concentrated on his human form. Whoever had helped him, he wanted to meet them with his best face on. Besides, there was no point in giving too much away, even if they could read his mind.
He was about to pick up the baby when a noise made him look up—no, it wasn’t a noise, it was the absence of one. The wind was gone.
That’s odd. Where did it go?
Lifting the baby carefully in the crook of an arm, his hand under a fuzzy head—he remembered vaguely, from long ago, Letha telling him that he’d have to support Meghan’s head because her neck wasn’t strong enough yet to do it herself—Harry got to his feet and backed away from the arch, waiting for his benefactors to appear.
The black veil hanging in the arch fluttered once. Twice. Then it drew itself aside, and Harry yelped and hid his face with his free hand as a bright light from beyond it hit him square in the eyes.
"Sorry!" said the man’s voice, sounding amused but also genuinely apologetic. "Sorry, hold on—here, love, you go first—"
"What a good idea," said the woman acerbically. "Harry, don’t look yet, we’ll be there as soon as we can."
Harry lowered his head, shielding his eyes, but his heart had started beating faster. A man and a woman who knew his name, who knew all about him, but whose voices he didn’t recognize...
Footsteps in front of him, two sets of them, and then a hand on his shoulder. "You can look now," the woman said gently. "It’s all right."
Harry looked up. The woman standing in front of him had dark red hair spilling down her back; her green eyes, fixed on his face, were filled with a joy so deep it was almost sorrow. A tall, thin man stood beside her, his black hair untidy in a way Harry knew well and wire-rimmed glasses shading hazel eyes which held the same emotion as the woman’s. It was his hand on Harry’s shoulder, and Harry knew now why he had thought the voice sounded like Padfoot.
"Mum?" he whispered. "Dad?"
xXxXx
Remus shoved through the final door, ignoring the freezing cold against his chest, his wand already leveled. "Stupefy!" he shouted.
"Protego!" Bellatrix Lestrange screamed, leaping back from the unconscious bodies of Danger and Arthur Weasley. "Come for your bitch, have you, werewolf?"
Remus dodged the reflected spell easily. "You never did understand, Bella," he said, moving forward to stand over his wife and his friend. "Perhaps it hurts Lucius—" He nodded to the slumped figure in one corner. "—but calling me what I am has never hurt me."
"Because you’ve accepted your perversion!"
"Because I’ve accepted what’s happened to me, yes." Remus kept his wand trained on Bella, waiting for the opening he knew would come. "It helps to have my family and my friends who accept it as well. And sufficient precautions taken on the full moon to be sure I don’t hurt anyone."
"Hah!" Bellatrix laughed explosively. "Why waste the time? You’ll get out eventually. Bite someone. Oh, wait, I forgot." Her death’s-head grin spread across her face. "You already did." Anger flashed down to replace the smile. "But of course Dumbledore’s good little wolfy got away with a slap on the wrist."
Remus chuckled. The sound seemed to take Bella by surprise.
"I am many things to Albus Dumbledore," Remus said when he’d caught his breath. "A student, a supporter, and, I hope, a friend. But one thing I am not and have never been is his ‘good little wolfy.’" He glanced down at Danger and let a smile appear on his face. "You see..."
"Arrgh!" Bellatrix clutched her free hand in her hair, then spun and sent a spell at him. "Incarcerous!"
"Oppilorbis!" Remus countered, his block materializing in front of him and absorbing the spell. "So you mean you don’t want to hear details of my private life, Bella? What a shame... and I was in a sharing mood, too... Stupefy!"
"Petrificus!" Bellatrix shouted, nullifying his spell with another spell. "Keep talking, werewolf, every second brings the Dark Lord closer! You won’t play silly word games with him!"
"You’re quite right." Remus lowered his wand slightly. "I have no intention of playing silly games with Voldemort."
Bellatrix blanched. "You—you dare speak his name..."
"All the games I play with him will be entirely serious," Remus finished. "Expelliarmus!"
"Oppiltholus!" Bella cried, her block appearing in a dome shape instead of Remus’ disc. "You dare to mock my Master! See how much you laugh at this! Aguamenti Maxima!"
xXxXx
"Hullo, son," said James Potter, an odd smile touching his face.
"Oh, Harry!" Lily closed the distance between them with two steps and threw her arms around him. Harry hugged her back, as well as he could with only one arm, and then James was hugging them both, and everyone was crying, and then the baby in Harry’s other arm started crying too, which broke up the hug.
"Hush, now, Marcus," Lily ordered, tapping a finger gently on the baby’s nose. "Behave yourself."
"Marcus?" Harry looked again at the baby, who looked back at him solemnly out of wide gray eyes. The same silver-gray he saw every time he looked at Meghan, or at Padfoot—
"Padfoot!" Everything came rushing back—he’d stumbled into the archway room and become mesmerized by the arch and the veil, listening to the whispers, watching the ripples—the sound of Padfoot’s name had broken him from his trance, and he’d looked around the side of the archway just in time to see Crouch with his wand leveled at Padfoot, Letha with her own trained at Crouch’s back, and two mouths moving in unison—he had his own wand in his hand, but he hadn’t shouted a spell, just a desperate "NO!" as he realized what was about to happen—
"Harry!" His father’s hands were on his shoulders, shaking him gently, bringing him into focus. "Harry, calm down. It’s all right. Sirius is all right."
"That’s easy for you to say! You’re dead!"
"For which reason, we know the difference among our friends," Lily said firmly. "Believe me, Harry, we would know the instant Sirius Black crossed over to join us. Or Aletha, or Remus, or your Danger." She smiled. "Who is, incidentally, part of the reason your godfather is all right."
"How can he be all right?" Harry demanded. "Crouch used the Killing Curse! Unless..." He stopped, letting his mind and his ears catch up with his emotions. "What did Danger do?"
"She stopped any of the Death Eaters’ curses from killing or maiming anyone who’s fighting with you," said James, letting Harry go. "Thus, Crouch’s curse couldn’t kill Sirius. It would still have knocked him through the arch, though, and he’d have been gone then in any case."
"It would have knocked him through the arch if he hadn’t been shielded, that is," Lily added, holding out her arms. "Here, Harry, give me Marcus. I think he’s hungry, and he could certainly use something to wear."
"What? Oh. Right." Absently, Harry handed his mother the baby. "But who shielded him? If Letha was trying to get Crouch..."
"Silly boy." Lily chuckled, pulling a nappy from the pocket of her robes and laying Marcus down on the bench behind Harry. "You did. Don’t you remember shouting out?"
"But I didn’t say a spell!"
"Sometimes you don’t have to," James said, turning to regard the archway.
Harry looked down at his hands. "Do you mean I did wandless magic?"
"Did you have your wand out?" James asked, turning back with a grin.
"Well. Yeah."
"Then no, obviously it wasn’t wandless magic. But it was magic done outside the usual boundaries the wizarding world sets. As is this." James waved a hand at the four of them. "Which I hope you already knew."
"No, not at all," Harry retorted. "Rescuing my baby brother who isn’t born yet from a giant magical vacuum cleaner, having my dead parents tell me how to do it... all sounds perfectly normal to me."
"Ouch." James winced. "I’ll have to have a word with Sirius when I do see him. He’s been letting Letha teach you to be sarcastic."
"Be realistic, James," said Lily, bouncing Marcus in her arms. "Since when did Sirius ‘let’ Aletha do anything?"
"You have a point."
Harry couldn’t help but smile. "So where is Padfoot?" he asked.
"He’s right there." James pointed to the foot of the archway. "We just can’t see him."
xXxXx
Somewhere nearby, a woman was crying.
Sirius groaned aloud, trying to push himself upright. That’s Letha, she’s hurt, I have to get to her...
Wait. Am I dead? I’m supposed to be dead.
I don’t feel dead. I feel... bruised. And cold. And worried.
But I’m supposed to be dead...
OK. I’ll look at myself. If I’m white and transparent, I’m dead. If not... well, deal with not if not happens. One, two, three—
Sirius opened one eye. He was not white and transparent.
Then he looked up.
The arch of the Gateway to Hades stretched over him.
I think that I will now move forward. Very, very carefully.
And then I will faint.
That was probably the closest call in the history of the world.
xXxXx
Harry thought over possibilities and came up with one he didn’t much like. "Does that mean... if I can’t see live people... am I dead?"
"No!" James and Lily said at the same time, vehemently, then looked at each other in surprise. James made a little circular motion with his hand, a "go on" gesture, and Lily continued. "You’re not dead, Harry. Look at yourself. Does this remind you of anything?"
"Um..." Harry looked down at his body. It looked normal to him, except—
"My cord!"
"Precisely." Lily pointed to the slim silver line trailing away from Harry’s left wrist. "What does that tell you?"
"I’m... out walking?" Harry shook his head. "That doesn’t make sense. I didn’t say the words, I didn’t try to leave my body—"
"What you did," James said, "was get hit with the back-blast from a reflected Killing Curse. Because you’d been out walking recently, the shock was enough to throw you out of your body again, but because you’ve been fighting, Danger’s magic protected you from the full force of it."
"Which means it couldn’t kill you," Lily finished. "And it couldn’t kill the person it hit, either."
Harry frowned. "I thought you said it didn’t hit Padfoot."
"It didn’t." Lily had her head bent over Marcus, who had his toes in his mouth. "Your shield reflected it away from him."
"Crouch, then? No, you said it couldn’t kill the person it hit..." Harry felt his stomach sink. "It hit Letha, didn’t it?"
Both his parents nodded. "It is not your fault, Harry," James said, putting a hand on Harry’s shoulder again. "I want you to understand that. What happened is not your fault at all."
"But if it didn’t kill her, then what happened that’s so bad?" Harry asked. "I don’t understand."
"Danger’s magic could only protect the people who were fighting, Harry," said Lily. "There was someone in that room who couldn’t fight. That is who the Killing Curse took effect on."
"But there were only four people there. Padfoot, Letha, Crouch, and me."
"Five," Lily corrected without lifting her head. "There were five people there."
Harry looked at her, then down to where she was looking.
Marcus gurgled cheerfully and switched feet.
xXxXx
Sirius hoisted himself forward until he was well clear of the arch, then crawled past Crouch’s crumpled form towards Aletha. She knelt near the first row of benches, her face hidden in her hands, a dark pool of liquid spreading around her robes—
Oh, Merlin’s wand, no—
"Letha!" Sirius went to his knees beside her. "Letha, look at me, talk to me, love. Where is it? Where are you hurt?"
"S-Sirius?" Aletha raised her head and stared at him, disbelief naked in her eyes. "Sirius—no, I saw you fall, and the pendants—"
"I fell, all right. Straight down. I’m still here." Sirius caught one of her hands and winced at the chill of her skin. "Letha, you’re bleeding, and your hands are freezing. What happened to you?"
"To me?" Aletha began to laugh, great tearing laughs that sounded more like sobs than her crying had. "Nothing. Nothing’s happened to me. Danger’s magic—oh, yes, it protected me from the Killing Curse..."
"How could you get hit with the Killing Curse? You threw one at Crouch, Crouch threw one at me—"
"There was someone else here." Aletha’s hand shaped circles in the air above her head. "A third spell, a shield—I don’t know. It came from somewhere. It couldn’t kill me, but I wasn’t alone..."
Her free hand slid across her belly, forlornly, as though she would cradle something no longer there.
xXxXx
"But..." The room had gone very cold, and Harry’s lips didn’t seem to want to work. "He’s just a baby," he forced out after a moment. "He isn’t even born yet."
"Which is probably why a reflected curse still killed him," James said quietly.
"He’s not dead!" Harry shouted, rounding on his father. "He can’t be!"
James met Harry’s eyes. "I wish we had some way to change it. But what’s done is done, Harry. Marcus is dead."
Harry’s throat tightened, and he squeezed his eyes shut. A moment later, his father’s arms were around him, holding him, comforting him.
"It’s not fair," he choked out into James’ shoulder.
"I know." The arms tightened briefly, then released.
"He never even had a chance to live."
Squeeze, relax. "I know."
"I mean, what was the point?" Harry demanded. "What was the point in my saving him? What was the point in him living, if he was just going to die anyway?"
James shook his head. "I don’t know."
"Ha!" Harry dredged up a grin and plastered it on. It felt awful and fake, but he held it anyway. "Made you change!"
"Heh. So you did." James smiled back. "I used to play that game with your godfather, you know."
"I know."
xXxXx
The message had gone out, and the DA was starting to arrive in the Room of Requirement. Ginny sat by herself in a corner of the room, her legs curled under her, her hand around her pendants.
"Something wrong, Gin?" Ron asked, bending down to meet her eyes.
Ginny shook her head. "Something was," she said. "When the pendants were so cold, a minute or two ago. But then they warmed up again, and now something’s right. Whatever’s happening to Harry, it’s more happy than sad."
"That’s great. D’you know what it is?"
"No. Just that it’s good."
Ron shrugged. "Better than nothing, I suppose."
"What is?" Hermione asked, joining them.
"I know something good is happening to Harry," Ginny said, "but I don’t know what."
"I hope he’s being rescued," Hermione said, shivering briefly. "What if they’re too late? What if all that cold was for him?"
"Then his carving would have lit up instead of that all-over glow we got, and he wouldn’t be having good things happen to him now, would he?" Ron said reasonably. "Harry always comes out all right, Hermione. He could fall in the lake and come out dry."
"Of course he could. He’d just heat his clothes until they dried out."
Ron grimaced. "That’s not what I meant."
"Of course not." Hermione grinned. "I just love—"
"Won-Won!" squealed a girlish voice from behind them.
"Seeing you with Lavender," Hermione finished, her grin converting instantly to a rictus.
Ginny caught Hermione’s eye and beckoned her closer. "There’s enough room in my ‘something wonderful’ for two," Ginny said, holding up her pendant chain. "Join me?"
"Please." Hermione cast a scathing look at Ron, who was backing away from Lavender under a barrage of questions about Harry, none of which Lavender was giving him time to answer. "Before they start snogging."
Ginny handed Hermione a loop of chain. "Enjoy."
And you, brother of mine, need to figure this out pretty fast before this beautiful girl gets tired of waiting...
xXxXx
"Let’s go see your mum, how about?" James suggested.
Harry let himself be led over to where Lily still sat, Marcus in her arms. She stood up, handed the baby to James, and embraced Harry herself.
"Something funny about this," Harry mumbled into her hair.
"Oh?"
"First time I’ve hugged you... at least, to remember it... and I’m taller than you are."
"Such a fine big boy oo is!" Lily teased, reaching up and rumpling Harry’s hair. Her smile turned wistful, then shrank away altogether. "You were such a sweet baby. And such a wonderful little boy. I only wish..."
"I know." Harry looked from his mother to his father. "I don’t want to sound horrible," he said hesitantly, "but if I say what I’m thinking, I will."
"Say it anyway," said James, swaying back and forth on his feet, Marcus cradled to his chest.
"I’ve... never missed you. Not because I didn’t want you for parents, but just because..." Harry’s tongue tripped over its own words, and he shook his head helplessly.
"Because you had four of the best foster parents any child could ask for?" Lily finished for him. "Harry, we’re not hurt in the least. We’re glad."
"You are?"
Both Potters nodded. "We’d rather you be happy," said James. "And you are. You always have been."
Lily winked. "We’ve been watching."
"I always knew who you were," Harry said, piecing the feelings together as he spoke the words. "But I’ve always known who my parents are, too. And I think because I don’t remember you, but I did have parents who loved me, that now I can meet you like this, and... it doesn’t hurt." He smiled, watching the smile echoed on his father’s face, seeing it dance in his mother’s eyes. "I’m glad to have met you. I’ll never forget it. And I do love you."
"We’ve never doubted that," Lily murmured.
"But it isn’t going to haunt me that we can’t be together after this," Harry went on. "I won’t do anything stupid. Because... as much as I love you, I have a lot of other people to love too. And I know they love me back. Not that you don’t, but..."
"But they’re in your world," James said. "And we’re not. We’re always watching over you, but we can’t be there for you the way your Pack can."
"Yes." Harry paced back and forth once. "Am I making any sense?"
"Quite a lot," Lily said, reaching out her hand to clasp Harry’s. The sleeve of her robe slipped up, revealing a green stone bracelet on her wrist, elegantly carved in the form of a snake. "I think we’d be upset if anything else were the case."
"We were actually hoping you’d say something like it," James continued, changing grips on Marcus to take the hand of Harry’s Lily wasn’t already holding. "Because... Harry, have you ever heard of the Law of Reciprocity?"
"I don’t think so."
"Ask Moony about it. It’s a magical law, but what it basically amounts to is ‘tit for tat.’ Fair trading. If you get mine, I get yours."
"What your father is trying to say," Lily interjected with a smile, "is that since Sirius and Aletha have taken such good care of you—loved you as if you were their own blood son—that we can now do the same for their son. For Marcus."
"Until we’re no longer needed," James added, a strange look on his face, as though he were listening to something Harry couldn’t hear.
"But we wouldn’t have been here in time to take him if it hadn’t been for you, Harry," Lily finished. "So that is the point in you saving him. You saved him for us."
xXxXx
Remus slumped against the door, coughing. His chest hurt in the way that meant there was still water in his lungs somewhere, but he knew he’d get it out eventually. Arthur, Danger, and Malfoy were all crumpled on the floor nearby, their breathing slow but regular.
I shouldn’t have gone back for Malfoy. That was what nearly did me in. Bella left him when she’d triggered off that spell—why couldn’t I?
Danger stirred, moaning slightly, and Remus reached out and took her hand.
But that’s what makes us different from them. They’ll leave anyone behind, and we... won’t.
My enemy or not, my son’s father or not, I couldn’t leave him in there to drown. He snorted wearily. Besides, now he owes me his life. I wonder if I could collect by forcing him to leave the Death Eaters?
An oddity caught Remus’ eye. Danger and Arthur lay quiescent, except for Danger’s one moment of mobility. Malfoy, though... why were his eyes moving, under their lids?
xXxXx
Harry squeezed his mother’s hand, then let go of it and stepped closer to his father, looking at Marcus. The baby had his eyes shut and one fist against his mouth, as though he wanted to suck his thumb but couldn’t figure out where it was.
"We’ll miss you," Harry said, stroking the side of Marcus’ face. Marcus opened one grey eye, regarded Harry for a second, then closed it again and sighed deeply.
"That’s baby for, ‘get back to me later, I have napping to do,’" said James, chuckling. "And you have work of your own, Harry. A certain Dark Arse is on his way—ow!"
"Not in front of the boys," Lily said as James rubbed the back of his head with his free hand. "As your father was saying," she continued to Harry, "Voldemort is on his way here. Think about what he knows, and what he expects. You may be able to catch him out."
"And give our best to everyone," James said. "We’re keeping an eye out for them."
Harry nodded, his throat tightening once more. "Will..." He coughed. "Will I see you again?"
"I think at least once or twice before everything’s over," said Lily, pulling him into an embrace. "We’re hard to get rid of, you know."
"Voldemort himself had to try three times," James added, putting an arm around the outside of the hug. "I don’t think you’ll have any better luck than that."
"I don’t want better luck than that." Harry closed his eyes and hugged his parents, letting himself believe for one instant that this was the way it had always been.
Not that the way it has been is so much worse, it’s just...
Well, Padfoot and Moony and Letha always said I would have loved them. Now I know they were right.
After some fraction of forever, the Potters let go of each other. "I have to go," Harry said, starting to walk towards the side of the archway that hid his body. "I love you."
"We know." Go get ‘em, tiger, James signed with his free hand. "We’ve always known."
"We love you too," said Lily. A grin sparkled into being on her face. "Go kick his arse for me, Harry."
James Potter turned on his wife. "Oh, so you’re allowed to say it? How come you’re allowed to say it and I’m not allowed to say it?"
Lily planted her hands on her hips. "I’m allowed to say it because I know when to say it. You, on the other hand, will throw it into every conversation if I let you."
Harry fought back a laugh and started fitting himself back inside his body. He had a Dark Lord to fight, a prophecy to guard, and a message to deliver.
xXxXx
Draco leaned his back against one of the walls of the Room of Requirement, which obligingly molded itself to the contours of his spine. Ginny and Hermione were sitting side by side up front, identical expressions of worry-flavored bliss on their faces. Ron was off in a private corner with Lavender; no one with any sense had any question what they were doing. Neville and Meghan were whispering together in low tones with Meghan’s cadre of younger students in the DA, most of whom had arrived before their older peers. And Luna was—
"Boo," said a voice behind him.
Draco turned to smile at her. "I was just thinking about you."
"I know." Luna sat down on his lap. "I can feel it."
"You can?"
Luna nodded. "I can feel all your thoughts," she said. "I just don’t know what most of them mean. I know me, because it’s the way your mind feels whenever we kiss. But I don’t know almost any others."
"Almost?"
Luna giggled and clapped her hands over her mouth, shaking her head in wide arcs. Back and forth, back and forth, back and—
She stopped. The hands came down.
"What is it?" Draco asked.
"I don’t know." Luna frowned. "Nothing, I think it’s nothing. Just a bad thought, and now it’s gone. False alarm."
"Oh, good." Draco ran a hand through her hair, reveling in its feel over his skin. "Where did you see this bad thought?"
"Hermione."
"Huh." Draco stroked Luna’s hair once more, then lifted her out of his lap and stood up. "Let’s go see her, then."
"Let’s."
Hermione opened her eyes as they approached. "Is everyone here yet?"
"Almost," Draco said, dropping cross-legged to the carpet beside her. "We’re just waiting for a few of the older Ravenclaws."
"Ginny was right." Hermione lifted the younger girl’s chain off her head. "Something wonderful happened to Harry. It was tied up with something very sad, but..." She shrugged. "There aren’t words for it."
Draco held out a hand. "Show me, then."
"All right." Hermione took his hand in her own and opened her mind, letting a torrent of emotions crash through—joy, disbelief, wonder, shock, sorrow, anger, determination, and underlying it all, love. Not quite the love of the Pack, not as interwoven or as age-strengthened, but it varied by such a tiny amount that only someone as attuned to the Pack’s love as Draco and Hermione could have felt the distinction at all.
"Yeah," Draco breathed. "Yeah, that’s good, all right." But good with bad right in the middle of it...
Beside him, Luna made a small, wondering sound. "Did you just have a bad thought, Draco?" she asked.
"Sort of. Why?"
"It felt the same as Hermione’s looked. I was just wondering."
xXxXx
Silently, he withdrew, well pleased with what he’d been able to accomplish. The worry the pair were feeling over their absent ‘brother,’ combined with the momentary link between his own magic and another’s, had allowed him just that little crucial way in. Not enough to influence them directly, but enough to plant the tiniest of hooks into them.
From now on, wherever they went, he would know.
And one day, when they were least expecting it, there he would be.
Just as I promised, my son. I will take you back.
And once you are mine, you will never be another’s. Ever again.
xXxXx
"We probably had just about the same bad thought, Luna," Hermione said. "Wondering what Harry felt that made him sad and angry, even in the middle of being so happy."
"Someone’s dead," Ginny said distantly.
"What?" The question came from all directions, including the door, where the absent Ravenclaw members of the DA had just arrived.
Ginny opened her eyes and got to her feet, moving with no trace of the stiffness Draco was sure she was feeling after so long in the same position. "You all know by now that Umbridge kidnapped Harry," she said without preamble. "You might not know, but I’m sure most of you guessed, that she took him to the Ministry. What you don’t know is that people went after him, to try to rescue him. His parents, my parents, Professor McGonagall, Professor Longbottom, and a lot of other people. And what I didn’t know until just a moment ago is that someone has died there."
A ripple of surprise and worry fluttered around the room.
"Professor Dumbledore spoke to me, on behalf of all of us," Ginny said, turning her head slowly to encompass the entire room. "He asked us to stay here. To stay safe, out of the fighting. But he also told me that after tonight, he would never ask us that again."
The area of floor on which Ginny was standing had begun to elevate, Draco noticed. She was a few inches above the DA now and still rising.
"With Umbridge gone from Hogwarts, we can come out of the shadows." Ginny’s eyes fixed on the far wall, as though she could see beyond the stone and mortar into the future. "We can become the core of the new Defense program at Hogwarts, because we are going to need one. After tonight, at least to Professor Dumbledore, we aren’t just students anymore. We are fighters."
"He told you that?" blurted Zacharias Smith. "Is he crazy? We can’t fight You-Know-Who!"
"That’s what he’s counting on," said Ron from the back of the room, drawing all eyes to himself. "That attitude. ‘I’m just a kid, I can’t do anything.’ But look at us. Look what we did. We got this thing together, we made it work, and we’re good. We’re not Aurors, no one’s going to expect us to be, but we can at least put up a fight if we have to."
"That’s what the DA is all about," Hermione picked up the thread, stepping up onto Ginny’s dais. "About training all of us to fight as best we can. Not to take the place of the adults, but to free them up to do what only they can do, because they won’t have to worry about us being helpless without them."
"And sometimes we can do things they can’t," Neville added. "Things they wouldn’t think of, things they don’t know about, or even things we can get away with because nobody pays attention to kids."
"It’s what we have that they don’t," said Luna, her gaze roaming the crowd. "We work together without someone telling us to. Even against someone telling us not to. And with all our minds and all our magic together, we’re strong. We can help win the war."
"And this is a war," Ginny said, drawing all eyes back to her. "The Second War against Voldemort. The Ministry doesn’t want to believe it, the Prophet doesn’t want to talk about it, but that’s what it is." She paused, one hand on her pendants. "And I think by tomorrow everyone will know about it. Whether they want to or not."
"So... what can we do?" asked Hannah Abbott into the silence.
"We can plan," Draco said, squeezing Hermione’s hand and letting go. "Wars are usually about getting hold of important places. If you can get enough of the enemy’s without letting him get too many of yours, then you win. And we’re standing in one of the most important right now."
"Of course it is," said Ernie Macmillan. "Everyone in the wizarding world went to Hogwarts. People make friends, get promotions, decide who to marry, based on what House they were in. It would be awful if the castle got taken over."
Murmurs of agreement filled the room.
"And that’s not even mentioning all the students!" Amanda Smythe said strongly. "Seven years’ worth of the wizarding population of Britain is right here. And almost everyone who’ll be fighting has children here, or nephews or nieces or brothers or sisters or something. What if they knew that if they kept fighting, we would die?"
Silence, except for nervous swallows and shuffling feet.
"That’s why we have to fight," said Ginny, jumping down from her dais. "That’s why we will fight. And that’s why we will win." She grinned. "Of course, we’ll also win because we have a castle. And we know how to use it."
Laughter swept through the DA. Draco chuckled, but also called up his internal image of the castle. There were doors and secret passages all through the place, but as long as the defenders knew about them all and kept them covered...
She’s right. With a good defense plan and strong leaders, we could hold out at Hogwarts forever.
He caught Amanda’s eye and gave her a thumbs-up. Good for you, bringing up hostages. They’ve proved they’ll do it if they get the chance. Let’s not give them any more.
Amanda smiled back at him, and Draco felt his heart squeeze a little. Beautiful, smart, and funny... this isn’t fair, really it isn’t...
"What are you thinking about now?" Luna asked in his ear.
"Uh." Draco wrenched his eyes away from Amanda. "Nothing."
"So that’s what nothing feels like," Luna said ruminatively. "I’ll have to remember that."
Mentally, Draco hammered the heel of his hand against his forehead.
Why does my heart have to be an idiot?
xXxXx
Albus Dumbledore opened the door still marked with a dim smear of red fire and stepped inside. The members of the Order of the Phoenix had spread out through the Department of Mysteries, finding and battling the Death Eaters, fortified by Remus’ word that there was a general spell in place that would not let them be killed here tonight.
But it seems there has been a death in any case.
Aletha knelt on the stone floor, blood trickling away from her, her arms around Harry and sobs shaking her frame. Harry was speaking to her in a low tone, too low for Dumbledore to hear, but the fact that his young Gryffindor was giving rather than receiving comfort raised Dumbledore’s hopes of a good ending to this night.
Or as good as can be arranged.
Sirius stepped out from behind the door and lowered his wand. "Albus," he said, nodding.
"Sirius." Dumbledore nodded to Aletha and Harry. "It is Marcus, then?"
"Yes." Sirius’ voice nearly cracked on the word, but he kept it steady. "Yes. Marcus." A deep breath, let out slowly. "But if Harry’s to be believed, he’s in the best possible hands. He says... he says he saw James and Lily. That they came to him, spoke to him. That they took Marcus with them, and they’ll take care of him. Because we took care of Harry..." He trailed off, his eyes fixed on Dumbledore.
"Do you see a reason to doubt Harry?" Dumbledore asked.
"No, of course not... it’s just... it seems so..."
"Unbelievable?" Dumbledore started down the steps, hearing Sirius fall in beside him. "All things are unbelievable until they are believed. Think of Lily Potter’s love for her son, and all that it has done for him. No, Sirius, I do not find this hard to believe."
They reached the floor. Sirius went immediately to Aletha, taking her in his arms, and she released Harry, running a hand through his hair before she turned to Sirius and laid her head on his shoulder. Harry got to his feet, straightened up slowly, then crossed to Dumbledore. "Sir," he acknowledged with a brief nod of his head.
"I am glad to see you well, Harry." Dumbledore knew the boy would hear in his voice the things he dared not say in words.
"I’m glad to be well, sir. Thank you for sending Fawkes. But I need to talk to you." Harry put a hand inside his robes and drew out—
"This changes things," Dumbledore said dryly, regarding the one thing Voldemort wanted almost more than he wanted Harry Potter himself.
"Not necessarily, sir." Harry lifted his head and met Dumbledore’s eyes. "Nothing good has happened to us so far tonight. I’d like to change that."
"And you have an idea."
"Yes, sir, I do." Harry’s grin was pure wolf. "If you’ll help me set up for it, I think I can sucker Voldemort."
Author Notes:
You honestly thought I was going to let him die? Our best-beloved Padfoot? Gimme a break, people! We need him! Of course, that doesn’t mean I won’t kill off other characters if the story demands it. (coughDracocough)
Before you all castigate me, no, it’s not a mistake that Remus didn’t save Umbridge in the room where he fought Bellatrix. You’ll find out what happened to her in due course, but rest assured, I haven’t forgotten about her. (And no, Remus didn’t leave her behind either. As tempted as he would have been.)
Yes, I’m bringing the OotP section of the DV to a close half a year early. There’s a reason for that. Namely, that I need the latter half of the year for the plot (such as it was) of HBP, because I have my very own plot for year six! And if you read a certain portion of year three in conjunction with some of DH, you might even be able to figure out what it is, or at least part of it...
Wow, this is a long AN. But I think we needed it. Anyway, you all know what I’m going to say next, but I’ll say it anyway... all together now... one, two, three... please review!