A Dangerverse Datebook
23 December 1990: Andy and Aletha
By Anne B. Walsh
Author Notes:
This scene has never before been published. It was cut from Chapter 43 of "Living with Danger" and is now presented here for your reading pleasure!
23 December, 1990
Aletha Freeman-Black was bored. There was no better way to put it.
Of course, being in jail is supposed to be boring. That’s why you stay out of jail if you possibly can.
To pass the time, she had taken to rewriting Sirius’ novels in her head. She found she enjoyed playing with the characters and the worlds he had created. Occasionally she would laugh aloud as she came up with a truly enjoyable or memorable moment.
I wish there was some way to save this, she thought wistfully. Or maybe share it with other Valentina Jett fans...
"Letha?" said a voice, jolting her out of her half-trance.
Aletha looked up. "Andy," she said, torn between delight and embarrassment. "Of all the people to visit me in jail. It has been a while, hasn’t it."
Andy nodded thoughtfully. "Six years. No, six and a half. We last saw each other while I was shopping with Dora to get her ready for Hogwarts, and she’ll be finishing school this summer."
"That’s right — she’s in the same class as Charlie Weasley."
Andromeda conjured herself a chair and sat down. "I’m not going to pretend I’m surprised that you know the Weasleys," she said quietly. "I’m not going to pretend anything. Letha, I knew you had Draco. I’ve known for years."
Aletha stared at the other woman. "How?"
"Dora. She’s so used to seeing her own face change that the changes you laid on Draco didn’t fool her the way they did the rest of the world. She saw him when you used to bring him to Hogwarts. And then again when she went to visit Charlie over the summers. And now I know a few other things."
"Like what?" Aletha asked warily. Andy’s tone was not of the friendliest.
"Like your daughter. You claimed she was adopted. She’s not. And I know who her father is. My cousin." Andy leaned forward, her eyes almost accusatory. "Your husband."
"And I know what you must think of me for marrying such a man," Aletha said, realizing the difficulty. "But I think I can explain. At the very least, I can try. Will you listen?"
Andy hesitated, then nodded slowly.
Aletha told Sirius’ story as succinctly as she could without leaving anything out. When she finished, Andy leaned back in her chair, eyes closed. "It explains a lot," she said distantly. "It explains just about everything. It’s... almost too good."
Aletha sighed. "It’s the truth. It’s all there is."
"And you’re afraid it won’t be enough, tomorrow."
"I am. Truth to tell, I’m just plain afraid about tomorrow. Hell, I’m afraid about right now. I’m worried sick over the cubs — the children," she amended hastily. "I have no idea where they are."
"What?" Andy sat upright in her chair.
"We were following Danger’s instructions," Aletha said, feeling the familiar weight press on her heart. "We owe her everything, after all, and she’s never been wrong before... she took them downstairs to the cellar, and only about a minute later we found her unconscious there, alone. Have you seen her?"
"Yes. She was one of the reasons I was called here."
"Anything you can share?"
"I didn’t tell Remus this," Andy said slowly. "He looked as if he had enough to worry about. But... her soul seems to be missing."
"Missing?" Aletha repeated faintly.
Andromeda was obviously unhappy about this. "The closest equivalent I could think of was... someone who’d undergone the Dementor’s Kiss."
Aletha felt as if the room had suddenly chilled ten degrees. "That’s impossible. We would have known — we would have been able to feel its effects..." She shivered suddenly, recalling...
xXxXx
Sirius blinked and put a hand to his chest. "That’s odd. This thing just got cold."
"Mine too," Aletha said, touching her chain. "Do you think it means something?"
xXxXx
"Oh, God, no," she whispered, suddenly able to imagine, all too clearly, living without Danger. The all-important alto line would be missing in every song, every joke would seem incomplete without her hearty laugh, and the cubs would set eight places at the table every night out of habit and make everyone cry over dinner...
Assuming there would be dinner. None of us can cook worth anything. Harry’s probably better in the kitchen than we are.
She had to laugh at the thought of her black-haired Pack-son taking full charge of the kitchen at the ripe old age of ten and a half, and the sound pulled her back to the present.
"You care a lot about her," Andy said softly.
"As much as you care — cared — about Narcissa," Aletha answered in the same tones, then could have bitten her tongue for being so foolish. But Andy was watching her, so there was nothing to do but go on. "She’s been a sister to me these past years. Remus has been a brother. They’re the family I always wanted."
"What about Sirius?"
"Oh, he’s just my reason for getting up in the morning," Aletha answered lightly. "Just the first and last thought in my head over the course of the day, and a good deal of the ones in between. Just the man I love more than life itself."
"And your... cubs?"
Aletha blinked, but the room stayed blurry. I am not going to cry. End of story. "They’re the reason there is a Pack. They’re everything to us. They’re all so sweet, so different, and so devoted to each other and to their friends, you wouldn’t believe it — Draco’s been writing to you, so you know he’s very much interested in music — he sings, he plays the piano and the flute, and the recorder—"
"I’ve seen him play," Andy said quietly. "I came to the place where they play Quidditch. The Weasleys’ orchard. I saw him play. And I saw your Meghan dance. She’s beautiful."
"Thank you." I know where she is, Aletha reminded herself. She’s safe. She’ll be fine. "Harry loves to fly. I don’t know if you remember James Potter — if you remember how much he loved flying—"
"I do."
"Harry’s just the same. He’d spend the whole day in the air if he could. Except for eating. And the occasional book. He does like to read sometimes. But he’s not our bookworm. That’s Neenie."
Andy looked quizzical. "Neenie?"
"Hermione. She’s crazy about reading. She thinks all the answers are in the books, and all she has to do is find them." Aletha turned away for a moment to pull out her handkerchief. "I can’t wait until that girl falls in love..." She pressed her face into the cloth, feeling the wetness of tears spread on it. "Nothing like... love... for curing that..."
I guess a new story is going to be written.
She was sobbing, hard, wracking things that hurt to come out of her. "I don’t know where they are," she managed to say. "Moody thinks they’re dead — but Danger wouldn’t do that — but I don’t know!"
"I’m sorry," Andromeda murmured, the true sympathy of one mother to another. "I’m so sorry."
"Don’t — it’s all right—" Aletha got herself under control. "I mean, thank you. I guess I just need to keep trusting Danger. She’s never let us down before. I mean," she closed her eyes, "if it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t have Sirius or Meghan or anyone..."
Of course, Andy wanted to know what that meant, and of course, Aletha was only too happy to tell her. I have to keep my mind on the good times. Keep my spirits up. So stories were shared about games and pranks, holidays and traveling, and the everyday life of the Pack. Aletha had almost forgotten over the years that it wasn’t normal to share one’s home and life with another couple, or to hold children in common with them.
"Don’t you ever run into discipline problems?" Andy asked. "I mean, can’t they play you one against another?"
"We really don’t have too many hard and fast rules," Aletha answered, thinking it out as she spoke. "And everyone knows what they are, and what the penalty is for breaking them. More minor things, like a slap or a kick in a moment of anger, are usually just dealt with by whoever’s closest at the time. The cubs know we’ll do our best to be fair to them exactly as long as they return the courtesy. They tried playing that game once. ‘Padfoot said I had to do this, but you won’t make me, will you, Letha?’"
"They call you by your name?"
"Harry always did, and Hermione learned from him, and Draco from them. Meghan calls me ‘Mama Letha,’ and Sirius ‘Dadfoot.’"
"Dadfoot," Andromeda repeated with a chuckle. "That’s darling. Did she come up with it all on her own?"
"By her very own self. She’s a smart little thing. Sneaky, too."
Andy smirked. "Sirius’ child and yours? No surprise."
"I am not sneaky!" Aletha exclaimed.
"And who exactly was it that hid her husband for five years in her house, then hid from the entire world for three more?" Andy demanded — with, Aletha had to admit, a fair amount of justice. She looked at her watch. "Oh, damn. 3:15 already. And I told Remus I’d be back in an hour, and I haven’t even seen Sirius yet — look, Letha, Remus asked if there was anything I could do to get you moved together. Not in with him, of course not, not tonight, but you and Sirius could be together, and be near him. There may not be much hope for it, it’s against all the rules, but what do you think?"
Aletha nodded firmly. "He needs us," she said. "Now more than ever, with Danger gone. Please, if you can, do it."
"All right." Andromeda rose, then stopped. "Letha?"
"Yes?"
"Sirius really didn’t... I mean, it wasn’t him."
"It wasn’t him."
"It’s just... I’ve been thinking of him in that way for so long... it’s hard to change all of a sudden..."
"Think of it as a change back, rather than a change," Aletha suggested. "Remember how he was when you knew him at Hogwarts, and after. How he loved to laugh. How he would play pranks on anything that would hold still, and a few things that wouldn’t."
"Like me," Andy said tartly, but with an echo of laughter in her voice.
"But if he gave his word on something, you could trust him."
"I do remember. He was very proud of never breaking his promises."
"He still is. What hurts him most about all this hiding is that people see him as a traitor, as someone whose word is no good. If he was just wanted for simple murder, it wouldn’t bother him nearly as much." Aletha paused. "That sounded so wrong."
"But I understand." Andy took a deep breath. "Letha, can I trust him?"
"I do," Aletha answered simply.
"Even now?"
"Even now."
"Then I will too," Andy said decisively. "I hope to see you again very soon, Letha. Thank you. For everything."
She strode off down the hall, and Aletha lay down on the lower bunk in her cell and stared at the bottom of the upper one.
Sirius, take your own advice, she prayed. Don’t do anything stupid.