Dealing with Danger
Chapter 27: Reach Out and Touch Someone (Year 4)
By Anne B. Walsh
Chapter 27: Reach Out and Touch Someone
Sirius sat in his writing room, surrounded by piles of parchment, all of it dealing with magical law surrounding child welfare.
He was ready to scream.
I don’t understand any of this. I don’t think even the people who wrote it understand it.
He had picked up a few salient points, though. The Wizarding Family Services people were within their rights, though only just, in what they had done with Draco. Neither a suspicion of abuse nor a possible irregularity about guardianship would have allowed them to act immediately, but both together did.
But we can petition to get him back. We have the contract, and that proves that Narcissa intended us to be his guardians. They can always claim that she didn’t know what we were really like, though, or that we’re worse now than we were then.
He wished for a moment that Narcissa had lived. Legally, Draco could not have been taken from her as he had from Sirius. A child’s adult blood relatives of the first degree, parents or grown siblings, were automatically his/her guardians under wizarding law, unless they were somehow invalidated (being sent to Azkaban sufficed).
But if Narcissa were still alive, we’d never have had Draco in the first place... unless they both came to live with us...
Never mind. This is ridiculous in any case. No one who knows me could possibly believe I actually abuse Draco. Or any of the cubs. It’s just stupid.
The morning’s post had brought another letter from WFS, stating that interviews would be set up at the WFS offices for Harry, Hermione, and Meghan, as well as for Danger, Aletha, and Sirius himself. The letter had hinted rather broadly that any intimations of abuse would be acted upon immediately.
As long as they play fair this time... but who’m I kidding? They won’t. They’ve proved that already.
But the Pack had a stronger case for guardianship of the three remaining cubs than for Draco, so it was less likely that they would be snatched away as he had been...
I just stood there and let them take him away. Sirius dropped his face into his hands, taking perverse satisfaction in the ache around his blacked eye. Moony’s right. I was an idiot, and I deserved what he gave me.
The hallway leading up to the room where the hearing was to be held had been rather dark, and the room itself brightly lit. Sirius’ eyes hadn’t quite adjusted when he’d heard a yelp of indignation. He’d blinked back tears just in time to see Draco being bustled through a door on the opposite side of the room. Sirius had tried to go after him, but three people had surrounded him and all started shouting at him at once, barking accusations that staggered him more than a barrage of spells.
He had only enough presence of mind to realize that making any aggressive moves would be a mistake, so he’d tried to sort it out verbally, but by the time he could say anything over the noise, Draco was gone, and the casewizard in charge, a rather smooth-talking fellow named Curcio, refused to let Sirius see him, or even pass a message along. "How do I know you’re not trying to intimidate him?" Curcio had said with a sanctimonious look. "We won’t let you endanger him any farther than you already have."
But we do have allies. I have to remember that.
The letter from WFS had also informed the Pack that people who knew them would be contacted to give accounts of their character and their interaction with their children. Sirius grinned.
I hope they ask Molly. That ought to be pretty spectacular.
The Weasleys had both been outraged by the actions of the Ministry, but Molly’s outrage was generally more flamboyant than Arthur’s. Still, Arthur was an excellent man to have on their side as well. He would be spreading the truth about them through the Ministry, through his wide system of unofficial contacts and friendships.
Knowing Gerald might count against us... Sirius squashed that thought as unworthy. Gerald Lovegood was an unusual man, but a good friend and a good father, and it was hard to see how his testimony could hurt them.
After all, he can’t ever have seen us do anything harmful to the cubs. We never have.
And Gerald was intelligent enough to keep things like the Animagus training under his hat.
I hope.
Finally, of course, the Longbottoms. Sirius stared out the window in the general direction of Fireflower House. We’d never bring it up, nor would they, but they owe us. They owe us a lot. And even if they didn’t, they’re our friends. They’ll do right by us.
Not that we’re asking for much. Just the truth.
But since when was the truth easy to tell?
The scream and the heating of his pendants were simultaneous. The crashing thud came only an instant later.
xXxXx
Draco sat under a tree with a music book in his lap and his recorder in one hand. He was trying to work out a high harmony to a folksong he knew. The challenge was keeping the melody line in his head at the same time as he played the notes of his new descant on the recorder, to see if they went together well.
It really isn’t too bad here. The Notts’ estate had meadows and woods, a pond which might qualify by some standards as a small lake, and extensive gardens around the house. Draco had walked in the herb garden the night before and gathered sprigs of four of the herbs. They sat in the crease of the music book now, slightly wilted but still recognizable.
He picked up the herbs and sniffed them. The scents, and the melody they evoked, took him effortlessly back to the Den. He had only to close his eyes to see the Pack, working and playing, singing and laughing...
I wonder if they miss me?
He shook his head, banishing such stupid thoughts. Of course they missed him. But they weren’t going to let it ruin their lives. And neither was he going to let missing them ruin this opportunity to have fun and learn things.
"Patroclus Nott was one of the higher-ranked Death Eaters," said Padfoot’s voice in Draco’s memory. "With Malfoy put away, Nott may actually be the highest ranked still out of prison. You could probably trace that diary that possessed Percy back to Nott if you tried hard enough, and we know his son tried to blackmail you lot back in first year with Moony’s condition."
Draco rolled his eyes. Well, that’s not a problem anymore. What I’m more worried about is how Nott kept trying to frame me for things at the beginning of last year. Or at least I think it was him. It was certainly him in Hagrid’s class, with the Mackled Malaclaws, and it could easily have been him with Buckbeak and with the firework Harry shot. And — hang on a second —
His mind had just presented him with a moment from a Potions class early in winter term. Nott fell down, and Zabini was helping him up — only there was this noise before I heard him fall, like someone fighting... did Zabini stop him doing something to my potion?
This was an entirely new idea — why would a Slytherin help a Gryffindor? Slytherins never help anyone unless there’s something in it for them. Not that they won’t help people who need help, but they always want their share afterwards. So Zabini must have thought there was something in it for him if he stopped Nott. But he never approached me about it — it’s like he didn’t want me to know.
Maybe it’s something he wants from Nott. Blackmail, maybe — give me what I want or I’ll tell Snape you were trying to mess up Black’s potion — except Snape would be more likely to give Slytherin points for that.
And that puts me back at square one. Zabini didn’t do it to get something out of me, and he didn’t do it to get something out of Nott.
So why did he do it?
Or did he do it at all?
Draco leaned his head against the tree trunk and closed his eyes. Now I’m confusing myself. I need something else to think about...
His pendants heated almost to the point of pain.
He bashed his head into the tree once. That wasn’t what I meant.
xXxXx
Sirius shoved his chair back, jumping to his feet, and spun in place, doing a spot Apparition, just from here into Remus and Danger’s bathroom — he was almost certain the scream had come from there —
The squashed feeling lasted only an instant. His fear and shock, though, redoubled.
On the floor, Danger jerked spasmodically, her body stiff and rigid, her hands fisted and bent back at the wrists. Sirius yanked out his wand and spun it in a circle, hitting everything in her immediate area with Cushioning Charms, just in time, as her head contacted the wall with what would otherwise have been painful force. At the same moment, he shouted, directing his voice out the open window.
"LETHA!"
Aletha was at his side almost before his shout had faded. She must have already been on her way inside, Sirius realized. Her wand was out, her face professional, and a diagnosis took her exactly two seconds. "She’s having a seizure."
"What does that mean?"
"It could mean anything. But you did exactly right. There’s nothing we can do at this point, just wait for her to come out of it on her own. They usually only last a minute or two. Intercept the cubs for me, tell them she’s going to be all right, but don’t let them in here. Especially not Hermione. I’ll tell you when to send Meghan in." Aletha was on her knees, holding her hand above Danger’s skin. "Something’s wrong here," she murmured. "There’s no way she should be this hot..."
Sirius turned as he heard a babble of worried voices in the hallway. "Everyone stay out," he said, moving into the bedroom and pulling the bathroom door almost shut behind him. "Out. Danger’s going to be all right, Letha says so, but she doesn’t need a lot of extra people cluttering up the room."
"Are you sure?"
"What’s happened to her?"
"What about me?"
"She’ll call you when she needs you, Pearl. Yes, Hermione, Letha’s sure, and you know she doesn’t lie. I’ll let her tell you what’s going on when she has a minute, Harry." Sirius sat down on the edge of the bed and beckoned the cubs to him. Meghan and Hermione came immediately. Harry hung back a little.
Starting to get touch-shy. Had to happen sometime. Sirius held the girls, one in each arm, and kept his eyes on Harry’s for a moment, hoping he could show his godson how much he cared just through this. I’ve seen it, Harry, seen how you’re trying to be the alpha for everyone, and I’m proud of you — you don’t have to, we’re not going to fall apart just because Remus isn’t here for a few days, but I’m proud that you’re willing to try...
Something about that series of thoughts hung onto the inside of Sirius’ head and refused to let go. Frowning, Sirius mentally pried it off and had a good look at it.
Remus isn’t here because he’s not allowed to be. But he’s linked to Danger. Something like this ought to have brought him running, no matter where he was or who said he couldn’t come.
Why isn’t he here?
He stood up abruptly. "I have to go out for a minute," he said. "Harry, you’re in charge right here. Do what Letha tells you and don’t get in her way, understand?"
The cubs all nodded. "Where’re you going, Dadfoot?" asked Meghan as Sirius pulled off his robes and grabbed a Muggle shirt off his dresser top.
"Just out. Behave yourselves." Sirius spun in place again, this time fixing on an alleyway in Muggle London as his target.
There’s only one reason Remus wouldn’t have come to see what’s wrong with Danger.
If he couldn’t.
He hurtled through the compressing tunnel and came out on the other end breathless for an instant. That didn’t stop him — even before he had his breath back properly, he was racing out of the alley, headed for a small building at the end of the street. He took the rickety metal stairs three at a time and banged on the door at the top. "Remus! Remus, let me in!"
No answer. Sirius checked quickly for Muggle observers, then rapped the doorknob with his wand and let himself in. The kitchen looked almost exactly the same as it had the day before. There were still dirty dishes on the counter, in the same arrangement, and no more had been added.
This is not good.
Sirius changed forms, fearing that he would find only day-old scent traces of his friend, that the Ministry had arrested him for something, taken him sleeping so that Danger wasn’t alerted, kept him unconscious so that he didn’t know she was ill now —
But instead, Remus’ scent hung over the whole flat like a pall, heavy and musky in a way Sirius hadn’t smelled in years. And, at the moment, filled with the acridity of fear.
He’s still here. Must be back in the bedroom or something.
He bounded forward, through kitchen and living room, into a tiny hallway which closed around him like Apparition, out again into the bedroom. Remus lay on the floor, dressed in crumpled and stained day robes, panting as from some great exertion, his eyes half-open. He jerked his head around to focus on Sirius, who changed back to human as he skidded to a halt. "Sirius... Danger..."
"She’s all right," Sirius said quickly, kneeling beside his friend. "She’s ill, Letha called it a seizure, but she also said it only lasts a minute or two and she’ll come out of it on her own."
Remus slumped back to the floor. "Thank God," he breathed. "Can’t move much."
"I noticed. How long has it been this way?"
"Don’t know." Remus had closed his eyes again, as if even keeping them open was a strain. "Sleeping a lot... not too hungry... cold."
Something about this felt familiar to Sirius. He touched his friend’s hand. It was indeed cold. Even Remus’ face and chest felt cool. "How long has it been since you ate anything?"
Remus’s shoulders jerked a little. "Morning," he said uncertainly. "Yesterday."
Sirius suddenly tracked down the familiarity of the scenario. It was exactly how Remus had always acted after full moons in school and during the war. He would sleep most of the next day, not want to eat anything, and bundle up in layers of clothes, complaining that he was cold, even if it was the middle of the summer.
But with Danger around, that doesn’t happen...
"Let’s get you back in bed." Sirius bent to help Remus up. He’d get his friend comfortable, then get in touch with Letha and tell her what he’d found. "You don’t have a Floo, do you?"
"No." Remus leaned heavily on Sirius, but made it to his feet, wincing as he moved. "Wait, not bed — I need to..."
"Well, let’s get you there, then, so I don’t have to clean up after you," Sirius said, trying for levity. Remus didn’t react, and that worried Sirius more than anything had yet. Moony without a sense of humor was Moony in a very bad way indeed.
He was even more worried by the time he got Remus out of the bathroom. His alpha had opted to sit, and when he stood up again, his knees had buckled. Sirius had caught him just in time to keep him from replicating part of Danger’s performance.
This is bad, and getting worse.
Sirius laid his friend in the double bed and tucked the covers around him, then performed a spot heating spell. Remus groaned pleasurably and nestled down into the bed. "Thanks... feels good."
"Don’t go to sleep yet, Moony. I need your help."
"What?"
"I need some way to get in touch with Letha quickly, and you don’t have a Floo."
"Call her."
"From here? She’d never hear me... oh, wait, you mean with that Muggle thing?"
"Phone’s in the kitchen."
Sirius turned and took two steps, then came back. "What’s our number?" he asked, feeling a little ashamed. "At the Den?"
His eyes drifting shut, Remus reeled off a string of digits. Sirius stopped him halfway through, conjured quill and parchment, and wrote it down as Remus recited it again. "Good. And what’s yours here?"
Remus opened one eye. "Getting smart in your old age."
Sirius let out a breath of relief. Moony wasn’t gone quite yet. "Letha’s rubbing off. What is it?"
Another string of numbers. Sirius didn’t know how Muggles remembered these things. "All right, I’ll go and call her and see what’s going on. You just stay where you are." He’d have to get something into Remus soon. Twenty-four hours without food would make anyone sick.
In the kitchen, Sirius found some apple juice in the refrigerator and mixed it with a bit of water and a little sugar. Conjuring a cup with a lid and straw, he poured it in, then picked up the telephone — a cordless type, he noted with pleasure, so he could do his talking without leaving Remus alone. Muggles had some good ideas sometimes.
We ought to have something like this. Portable Floo connections. Wonder if it’s possible?
"Here," he said back in the bedroom, putting the cup beside Remus, who opened one eye again to regard it. "Drink that."
"What is it?"
"Juice."
Remus sipped on the straw experimentally. Sirius sat down in the chair in one corner and punched the first string of numbers on his conjured parchment into the telephone, then put it up to his ear.
"Other way," said Remus hoarsely.
"I knew that." Sirius reversed the direction he was holding the telephone. A ringing noise sounded twice in his ear, then a clicking sound, and a well-known voice said, "Hello?"
"Harry?"
"Padfoot! Where are you?"
"I’m at Moony’s. Let me talk to Letha."
"Um, she hasn’t come out of the bathroom yet. She called Meghan in there a minute ago."
"This is kind of urgent. Try knocking."
"If you say so." There was rustling in the background.
"Wait a second," said Sirius, an idea occurring to him. "Harry?"
"What?"
"Let me talk to Hermione while you’re doing that."
"All right."
More rustling, then Hermione said, "Hi, Padfoot."
"Hi, sweetie. I’ve got someone here who wants to say hello."
"Who?"
"I’ll let you find out. Hold on." Sirius took the phone away from his ear. "How about it?" he asked Remus.
Remus looked torn. "I shouldn’t..."
"Why not? They said no letters and no firecalls. They never said anything about telephones."
Remus rolled his eyes and held out one swollen-knuckled hand. "Sirius Black, master of loopholes. Give it."
After a few moments of Remus assuring Hermione that he was fine, just a little tired, and that he could tell Danger was going to be all right as well, Remus handed the phone back. "Letha," he said.
"We’ve got trouble." Aletha’s voice was brisk. "Are you somewhere you can talk without alarming anyone?"
"Hold on." Sirius stepped into the hallway. "Now I am. What’s wrong?"
"Danger has a fever. Around forty-five degrees."
"What?"
"Exactly. I have a feeling that magic of hers has something to do with it, otherwise she’d be dead right now. But her body can’t keep this up long, magic or no magic. What have you found?"
"Remus isn’t in good shape either." Sirius summarized his friend’s symptoms. "It’s like he went through a bad full moon without Danger, except no blood," he finished. "He’s getting a little better now that I got him to drink something and warmed him up, but he doesn’t look good either. He couldn’t even move when I found him."
"All right." Aletha hummed under her breath. "I had Meghan in here," she said after a few moments. "She said she can’t find anything in Danger’s body that shouldn’t be there. So she doesn’t have a disease caused by infection, and we can also rule out poison."
"Bloody-minded much, love?"
"It was a possibility. But that still leaves us with the same problem. There’s something wrong with her, and I don’t know what."
Sirius could hear the frustration in his love’s voice. "May I make a suggestion?"
"Please."
"I’m no Healer, but it seems a little odd they should suddenly both get ill within three days of their being separated."
A loud hiss came over the phone. Sirius jumped, then realized Aletha had exhaled hard. "Of course. Of course. I’m such a... never mind. I’m on my way over. With a passenger."
"We’ll be here."
A beep signaled the end of the conversation. Sirius looked at the phone’s face, found a button marked "off" amid the multitude, and pressed it. "Good news," he said, stepping back into the bedroom. "We’re going to have company."
"But I look a fright, Mother."
"Don’t worry, they’ve seen you worse. It’s Letha, and she’s bringing Danger."
Remus closed his eyes, his lips curving up in a thankful smile. The Pack’s Moony was still in there, Sirius saw, just hidden for the moment under fatigue and worry. He’d be back as soon as Danger was all right again.
As soon as they’re both all right again. What is going on here?
"What about the cubs?" asked Remus, opening his eyes.
"They’re big enough to take care of themselves for a little while. Or they’ll go to the Burrow or somewhere."
"They should still know how to get in touch with us." Remus eyed the phone. "Call them back, give Harry this number. In case something else goes wrong."
Good idea, considering how much seems to have been doing that recently. Sirius dialed the first string of numbers again, and was soon reciting the second to Harry. "How is everything there?" he asked.
"All right. Meghan’s here with me, and Hermione’s in her room. She said to come and get her if anything happened."
"Letha and Danger?"
"Letha’s getting Danger dressed. They’re about to leave."
"Good. Call if anything happens there."
"I will."
"Harry?"
"Yeah?"
"I’m proud of you."
"Me? What’d I do?"
Sirius laughed. "No, that’s what you say when someone says, ‘Why, you little—’ When someone says, ‘I’m proud of you,’ you say, ‘Thank you.’"
"Thank you. Why?"
"Because I’ve seen you keeping things on an even keel in the house. Stopping Hermione and Meghan quarrelling, pitching in to make sure we all get fed. It’s been a big help. I’m proud of you."
A long pause, in which Sirius imagined he could feel the heat of Harry’s blush rising off the phone. "Thank you," said Harry finally. "I have to go."
"You’re wel—" Sirius winced at the slamming sound in his ear. "Boy can’t take a compliment," he muttered, turning the phone off again.
xXxXx
Hermione lay curled on her bed, regarding her Pack-pendants.
The jewels are one use only. I shouldn’t waste them.
But this isn’t wasting. Draco’s going to be scared. And they probably won’t even let him use the Floo. All right. I’ll do it.
She closed her eyes, pinching one blue gem between thumb and forefinger. I want to be able to talk to Draco in my mind without touching, she thought carefully. And have him talk to me. For as long as we need to.
As long as you need to? The voice was powerful, almost frightening, but not menacing in any way. A dangerous way to put things, little sister. Need is hard to define.
Until we know that the danger is past, then.
Better. And you are willing to trade a gem for this.
Yes.
Very well. Speak the words.
So I speak, so I intend, and so let it be done.
And so let it be done indeed. A curious fluttering feeling invaded Hermione’s mind, and then —
—don’t even know what’s going on and the damned house-elf won’t let me near the Floo, I won’t go groveling to that little Slytherin bastard even if he does owe me, I might need that favor for later but how can I need it any more than this, something’s wrong with Danger and Moony and everybody else and I haven’t any way to know what—
Have you tried asking? Hermione cut in.
Neenie? Is that you?
No, it’s Celestina Warbeck. Yes, of course it’s me. Who else would it be?
Wish fulfillment?
Not likely. I traded a blue jewel for this.
Oh. Then I’m not going insane.
Sorry. Maybe tomorrow.
Draco blew a mental raspberry at her. What’s going on?
Danger’s going to be all right, Letha said so. She was ill, but she’ll get better on her own. And I just talked to Moony.
Relief rolled off Draco’s mental tone. That’s good — but I thought we weren’t allowed.
It was on the telephone. The Ministry doesn’t think about Muggle things very much, so they never told him he couldn’t talk to us that way.
Draco laughed. Too bad they don’t have one here.
He said to give you his love if I heard from you first. He sounds tired, but he said he’d be all right.
He’d say that no matter how he was, to keep you from worrying.
I know. But Padfoot’s with him, and Meghan says Letha and Danger are going where he is too. They’ll be all right. The pendants never got cold, did they?
No, but you can be miserable without being close to dying. Draco laughed humorlessly. Case in point.
Is it any better today than it was yesterday? The three remaining cubs had slept in the same bedroom the night before, Hermione and Meghan sharing Draco’s bed, so that Meghan and Harry could use Hermione’s chain to dream with Draco.
A little. But being tired isn’t making it any easier. We’re going to have to pick nights for dreaming together and not go over that — it does take some of our energy to do that, you know.
I know. I noticed that I was more tired when I woke up from a night of dreamscaping than I would be if I’d just slept and dreamed by myself. Except...
Except what?
Except if I was dreaming just with you. Then I would hardly be tired at all the next day.
I suppose we reinforce each other, take turns keeping the dream there. That way we don’t get drained so quickly.
But with more people in the dream, we have to work harder. So we’re wearing ourselves out. All right. Let’s think. Hermione rolled onto her back and looked up at the ceiling. Two nights a week shouldn’t be too much. Tuesdays and Fridays, maybe?
That makes sense to me. Tuesdays and Fridays. And lots of letters in between.
And don’t forget I promised to come visit somehow. Hermione giggled. I have a plan.
Why don’t I like the way that sounds?
Don’t worry, nothing could possibly go wrong.
Which means something will.
Stop being so pessimistic.
Draco snorted. Fine. You find something else for us to talk about.
All right. You said something about Nott owing you when I had just tuned in — what did you mean?
Oh, that. I was outside when my pendants went off. On my way in, I ran into him — literally, turned a corner and ran into him. He had a cloak on and his broom in his hand, he’d obviously been out flying. The house-elf popped out of nowhere and started scolding him, saying his father would be mad that he’d been out flying when he was supposed to be studying.
What did you do?
I told it —
House-elves aren’t it. They’re he or she.
She felt Draco roll his eyes. All right, her. I think it’s a her. And she’s a royal pain. I told her that Nott hadn’t been flying, that he’d just been showing me his broom, and that we were both going right back to studying. So, of course, I had to go and study with him for a while. And he kept looking at me like I was one of those things Snape keeps on his wall in jars. Finally, when I got up to leave, he asked me why I did it.
What did you tell him?
Said I had experience with having a Death Eater father mad at me, and ran like hell.
Hermione groaned. I’m not surprised. Did he get you with anything?
A Twitchy Ears. I got rid of it.
Would you please not do that? It isn’t good for you. And what if he’d hit you with something you couldn’t reverse on your own? Do you really want Mr. Patroclus Nott fussing around your body with a wand?
All right, point taken.
Someone knocked on the door. "Come in," Hermione called.
Harry stuck his head in. "We’re going to wait downstairs," he said. "Do you want to come?"
Do I hear Harry?
You do hear Harry. Hold on a second. "Come here first."
"What’s going to happen if I do?"
Hermione let her head fall back onto her pillow. Prank-happy stupid idiot.
He has reason.
Shut up. "You’ll get to talk to Draco. I used a blue."
"Meghan!" Harry called over his shoulder. "Girls’ bedroom!" He came in, sat down on Meghan’s bed, and took the chain Hermione handed him. His greeting and Draco’s reply were jovially disgusting.
"Boys," Hermione muttered under her breath as Meghan ran into the room, looking worried, a look which vanished as soon as she found out why she was there.
How long is this going to last, anyway? Draco suddenly asked a minute or two later. Don’t these have time limits on them?
I said until we knew the danger was past, said Hermione. So if they’re better, it could be almost any time now...
We should move downstairs, said Harry. We’ll be nearer the phone there. Moony’s flat doesn’t have a Floo, so that’s how they’ll be in touch.
Still chattering, the cubs descended the stairs and established themselves in the music room, the cordless phone from the kitchen in Harry’s lap.
No chance of getting anyone else over, is there? asked Draco a little too casually.
Anyone in particular you want to talk to? Harry asked.
I know who he wants to talk to. Meghan giggled. He wants to talk to Luna.
Mind your own business, runt. Actually, I have something I need to tell Ron. But I wouldn’t mind talking to Luna if she’s around.
Hermione was already at the fireplace.
They were waiting for Neville and Luna to come through the fire when a hooting erupted in the kitchen. Harry ducked out of the chain to go get the owl. "It’s from Dumbledore," he said when he came back in. "Addressed to ‘the Pack.’" He hesitated with his finger under the seal, looking at his siblings and friends anxiously. "Should I?"
"Padfoot left you in charge," said Hermione as the fire flared green for Neville. "You decide."
Harry looked tempted, but shook his head. "If it was urgent, he would have Flooed. It can wait." He went back into the kitchen to set the letter on the table.
So what do you have to tell me? Ron asked when the Pride was all in the chain.
Something to ask you, actually. Do you happen to know if there’s a limit on the size of magical chess pieces?
Ron frowned. Not offhand, he said. But there’s laws about animating statues. How big are we talking?
Person-sized or better. Like the set you faced back in first year, I think.
Well, that was special. On Hogwarts grounds, and protecting something important. But yeah, I think for just everyday stuff you’re not supposed to have statues that are alive for more than... Ginny, do you remember?
Ginny wrinkled her brow. Three hours a day, she said finally. And none at all if it’s somewhere Muggles can see it.
Not a problem here. But the Notts have this whole room for chess, life-sized pieces, and I think they’re alive all the time. I was in there a good hour and they never shut up.
Do the knights have real swords? Neville asked.
Real how? They’re sharp and pointy.
That’s good enough. And the bishops carry big staffs?
Right. The castles have catapults on top, the queens have bows and arrows and the kings have maces. And all the pawns have pikes.
That sounds like a private army to me, said Neville. Or maybe a torture chamber.
Everyone stared at him. He shrugged. Mum and Dad have been telling me some stories from the first war, he said. They’re not pretty. And I think having chess pieces that big and with that many weapons might be illegal. I can ask.
So can I, said Ron.
The conversation drifted to other topics. Draco related the story of the formal dinner he’d eaten with the Notts the night before. There were four of everything, knives, forks, spoons, plates, everything. I’m glad Padfoot taught us to always work from the outside in.
What’s it like there? Meghan asked again, apparently still curious despite the night before.
Quiet. Very quiet. Like a tomb, almost. All the halls are covered in this carpet that muffles footsteps so you can’t tell if someone’s coming or not. It’s not quite black, but you can’t tell what color it is, it’s so dark. It could be red, but it could be green too. No pattern at all.
Do they have a music room? asked Luna. Is it carpeted too?
Yes, and no. When Mr. Nott found out I play, he insisted on having a concert. Draco had told the other cubs this story already, but Hermione was willing to hear it again. Theodore played first. It’s obvious he’s been taking piano lessons since he could reach the keys, and it’s just as obvious he hates it and never practices. I had to make a couple of mistakes on purpose so I wouldn’t look too good. Mrs. Nott thinks it would be sweet if we learned a duet.
Sweet? said Ron. She thinks it would be sweet?
That’s what she said. I don’t know if she thinks her Dora — which she called him right in front of me, and I thought he was going to die — I don’t know if she thinks he’s gay or if she just doesn’t realize how that sounds.
Dora, eh? Ginny sounded speculative.
Don’t, said Harry sternly.
Don’t what?
Don’t start. We need that for security.
Security? Oh, you mean blackmail.
Be still, my heart, said Draco. Harry Potter, bastion of all that’s good and pure, is talking about blackmail.
No, I’m not. I never said that word.
But you meant it.
Harry looked smug. I might have. Dora. God, that’s so wrong.
Maybe Mrs. Nott wishes Theodore was a girl, said Luna.
The rest of the Pride fell over laughing.
xXxXx
Aletha knocked on the door of Remus’ flat, Danger standing beside her, eyes half-shut and muttering to herself. Sirius opened the door. "There you are — Danger!"
"Don’t try it," said Aletha, directing Danger inside, then following her. "She’s not going to answer."
"How do you know?"
"I’m controlling her."
"You’re what?"
"She’s delirious. Half-conscious at best. And I couldn’t exactly float a stretcher up three flights of outdoor stairs in a Muggle neighborhood."
"So what did — oh." Sirius wasn’t stupid. "Imperius."
"Going to arrest me for it?" Aletha set the package she’d taken from the refrigerator on the table.
"Not likely. Let’s get them together."
"Not yet. I want to talk to Remus first, and do some tests."
Sirius frowned. "Tests? Letha, you said yourself her fever’s beyond the level that kills a normal person. And Remus isn’t looking so good himself. He’s cold to the touch, and he keeps drifting awake and asleep. If being apart is what triggered this, we need to get them together."
"If either of them starts to go into crisis, we can get them together immediately. What we need right now is information. I have a hunch, but I have to confirm it. Catch her." Aletha ended the Imperius, and Danger sagged against Sirius. "Can you get her into a chair?"
"A hunch about what?" Sirius scooped Danger into his arms and carried her into the living room.
"What’s wrong with Remus. I think I may know what’s wrong with Danger. It came to me as I was bringing her over here."
"What is it?"
"It’s a disease called lupus."
Sirius snorted, depositing Danger in the chair. "Appropriate. You think she got it from Remus?"
"Not exactly. Stay with her?"
"Sure. Anything I should know?"
"She might start talking. Don’t pay too much attention — she’s unlikely to remember anything — but answer her if you want. She probably won’t recognize you. Try to keep her there, and don’t let her do anything by herself even if she seems lucid. She’s not."
Sirius sat down on the couch beside Danger. "Can do. Should I call the cubs?"
"Not yet. Let’s wait until we have some actual news to tell them."
"Right."
Aletha opened the package she’d brought and pulled out her Healer’s kit and a covered cup of chicken broth. A tap from her wand brought this to drinking temperature, and she carried it carefully back to Remus’ bedroom. "Knock knock."
"C’min."
Aletha obeyed and took a long, careful look at Remus. She didn’t like what she saw. His face seemed to have aged since she’d seen him last, with more wrinkles and pain lines in it, and the knuckles of the one hand she could see were swollen. "You look like hell."
"Nice bedside manner, Letha." Remus summoned up a small smile. "Feel like hell too."
"I’m not surprised. Not eating for a full day? What were you doing, may I ask?"
"Sleeping." Remus accepted the broth and took a careful sip through the straw Aletha had conjured in it. "Just wasn’t hungry."
"Next time that happens, would you mind calling me before it gets this bad? Or calling Danger, maybe? She would have come right over and made you a decent meal, and maybe slept in a bed instead of in that cot."
"Tried to talk her out of that," Remus mumbled as Aletha checked his pulse. "She wouldn’t listen."
"You of all people should know talking her out of things hardly ever works."
"Does for me. Unless she’s being stubborn."
"She was being stubborn."
"How’d you guess."
"Sheer dumb luck. I need to take some blood. Is that all right?"
"Want my first-born son too?"
"I already have him. Or not your first-born, but your first-loved. He’s been a big help since you left." Aletha siphoned some blood from Remus’ forearm painlessly with her wand and deposited it in a glass vial. "Though he seems to think that since you’re not there, he has to be the alpha of the house."
"How’s he doing?"
"Very well, actually. Though he’s been looking frazzled by it. I keep meaning to talk to him about it, but he keeps avoiding me."
"Get Sirius to do it." Remus’ voice was a little clearer, a little stronger. "Harry’ll listen to him."
"I hope." Aletha took a small box of metal shavings from her kit, then reconsidered. She stood up and moved across the room, as far from Remus as possible, before she opened the box, and cast a quick Shield Charm around herself to keep any stray particles near her.
I so hope I’m wrong...
She dropped a few shavings into the vial of Remus’ blood. The blood hissed and boiled, then turned black and congealed.
I’m right, then. Damn it.
She packed the silver filings away very carefully after Vanishing the vial, then returned to Remus’ bed. "I think I know what’s wrong with you," she said.
"What?"
"You’re testing as a werewolf again. That means Danger’s taming power has worn off. There’s probably a set period it lasts for, and after that period is up, your lycanthropy reasserts itself with a vengeance. You’re paying right now for ten years of transformations."
Remus blanched and characterized the situation with one short word.
"Precisely. It seems to be progressive, so we’re damn lucky we caught it when we did. I think if this had gone on much longer, maybe even another few hours, you both would have been dead."
Remus went even whiter than before.
"But we did catch it. And we’re going to fix it. Oh, Sirius, darling!"
"Yes, Aletha, dear?"
"Would you please bring dearest Danger in here?"
"With all my heart, lovey duck."
Remus had a small fit of laughter. "Lovey duck?" he repeated hoarsely.
"He’ll pay for that one." Aletha smiled one-sidedly. "Trust me, he’ll pay."
"Delivery," said Sirius, squeezing sideways through the door with Danger in his arms. "Where do you want her?"
Aletha pulled down the sheets on the bed. Remus moved over a little, shivering as he did. "Right here. You won’t have to worry about being cold in a second," she told Remus. "She’s got a fever like you wouldn’t believe."
Sirius laid Danger down in the bed, pulling off her shoes after he’d got her positioned. Remus was already reaching out for her hand. Aletha quickly cast the Show-Me-Health spell on both of them. I’ll want to watch whatever happens. If anything does happen.
Danger glowed red-hot with fever, her joints little pockets of magenta pain, as were the irritated places on her skin. Remus’ joints, too, were magenta, but he showed as a dull blue, meaning he was borderline hypothermic, mixed with dots of a sickly green which meant minor malnutrition, as well as the odd shade of silvery-gray over the werewolf bite on his thigh.
Then Remus’ hand closed around Danger’s, and colors blurred before Aletha’s eyes with remarkable speed. When she could see clearly again, Danger lay nestled against Remus, her cheek against the part of his shoulder that his shirt left bare, both sets of eyes closed. Remus was no longer blue, and Danger’s redness was decreasing rapidly. The magenta ovals over their joints were shrinking, and the gray which indicated a werewolf vanished even as Aletha looked for it.
Thankfulness welled in her. She removed the spell to do a straight visual inspection. Things had improved just as dramatically here. The rash on Danger’s face, which had belatedly registered with her as one of the telltale signs of lupus, was all but gone already. Remus’ face, too, seemed less lined and worried than it had a moment or two before.
"That didn’t take long," said Sirius.
"No, it didn’t. Which means you were exactly right." Aletha hugged her love hard. "Thank you, so much. I might not have thought of this until too late." The phrase chilled her. Too late. We might have lost them — lost them both, because there’s no way one of them would want to live without the other...
Remus’ eyes opened and focused on them. "Good morning," he said.
"Morning," said Sirius. "How you feeling?"
Remus brought a hand out from under the covers and flexed it, then looked down at the top of Danger’s head, which rested against his collarbone. "Normal," he said. "More or less. Hungry is all."
"That we can fix," said Aletha, finding a smile coming easily to her. "Sirius, would you? I want to check them both right away to make sure I know what’s going on."
"Do this, do that. Bring this, get that. It’s all I’m good for around here." Sirius grumbled his way into the kitchen, making Remus chuckle.
"Good to hear that again," said Aletha, sitting on the edge of the bed. "You started to feel better as soon as you touched her, didn’t you?"
"Better isn’t the word." Remus kissed Danger’s head. "Letha, there’s something between us. Something physical. I felt it, when we touched — my whole body reacted. It was like getting a part of myself back. Everything started working better, working right. We must be connected somehow. Like two kinds of creatures that need each other to live. What’s that called — symbiosis."
"Magical symbiotes." Aletha tapped Remus’ arm with her wand again, drawing another blood sample. "There’s probably a paper in that somewhere. Or would be, if it wouldn’t expose you to the entire world."
"Maybe someday." Remus watched her add silver filings to his blood without getting any reaction at all. "Someday when the world is better, and we don’t have to hide anymore."
"If you’re waiting for the world to be better, you’ll have a long wait."
"Maybe." Remus smiled slightly. "My world got better today. What about yours?"
"Mine too," Aletha had to admit. "All right, maybe not so long at that."
Sirius reappeared in the room, floating three large containers of food, dishes and cutlery, and the telephone with his wand. Aletha conjured a table quickly, and Sirius lowered everything onto it. "Here, you can call the Den," he said, tossing the phone to her. "I’ll serve."
"Spill anything on me and I’ll kick your arse out the window," muttered a familiar voice.
"Look who’s awake." Sirius reached over Remus and rubbed Danger’s scalp briefly with his knuckles. "Feeling better?"
"Yes. Much." She turned her head upwards and smiled. "Of course, that could just be a function of the location."
"It is," said Remus, pushing himself upward in the bed with no apparent difficulty at all. "We’ll explain after we eat. I’m starving."
"I’m not surprised! I knew you were sleeping a lot, but really, not eating for a whole day? Do I have to go everywhere with you?"
"It looks like."
"Excuse me a minute," said Aletha, and stepped out of the room, ostensibly to make her call, really to have a moment where she wasn’t sure if she was laughing or crying with relief and joy.
What did I ever do to deserve people like this in my life?
And how can I do it again?
She dialed the Den’s phone number. This was one call she was happy to make.