Dealing with Danger
Chapter 32: The Middle of the Story (Year 4)
By Anne B. Walsh
Chapter 32: The Middle of the Story
"Sirius, here!"
Sirius tumbled down behind a tent, next to Frank Longbottom. "What’s going on?" he asked. "I’ve been out pulling people in..."
"We’re lucky so far. We were able to stop the Death Eaters from getting at the Muggle kids, and the fires in the tents aren’t spreading — it’s like something’s controlling them, holding them back..."
"As long as whatever it is doesn’t suddenly let go. What about plans for getting them down?" Sirius nodded at the two Muggles floating high above the encampment.
"We’re forming a perimeter now. Last names R-Z to catch the Muggles, the rest—"
Sirius grinned. "Blast the bastards where they stand."
"Exactly. Signal is one green flare — should be going up any minute now..."
A bright green light suddenly cast both their shadows on the tent in front of them. Sirius leapt up and fired a Stunner into the crowd of Death Eaters, yelling in triumph as one of them crumpled. Wait — why didn’t anyone else —
"Get down!" Frank pulled him back down behind the tent and shielded them from return fire just in time. "That’s no flare!"
"Then what was it—" Sirius’ question died on his lips as he turned around.
People had begun to scream all around. Green and ghastly, something out of nightmare, the Dark Mark floated over the wood.
Harry’s in there...
"Catch them!" shouted a trained female voice over the hubbub, and Sirius spun back just in time to add his "Wingardium Leviosa!" to the multitude. Most of the Death Eaters had Disapparated, leaving Mr. and Mrs. Roberts to their fate. Given the expressions on their faces, Sirius could almost believe they’d have preferred hitting the ground hard enough to get rid of the memories of the last few minutes, rather than being gently lowered as they were now.
The Obliviators will take care of them...
"Follow me!" bellowed Barty Crouch, eyes popping slightly. "To the woods! We can still catch whoever cast that hideous blazon of evil!"
Sirius rolled his eyes and Disapparated. The last thing he saw was Letha stooping to check the identity of the Death Eater he’d dropped.
He popped back into reality as part of a circle of about twenty-five — a small group stood in the middle of the circle, wands out and facing them — Sirius’ Auror reflexes took over, and he swung his wand up for a Stunner —
"DUCK!" yelled a voice he knew, and the group in the center fell flat, some of them knocked over by their fellows, just in time to avoid the spells which shot over their heads — Sirius quickly shielded himself from bounce-back, shouting at the same time —
"Hold your fire! Hold your fire!"
Behind him, a loud whoomph sound erupted.
xXxXx
He lay a short distance away, helpless. He’d been trying to do too many things — he should have known better than to try to Apparate so distracted, he should have just run —
Get the camp under control! he shouted mentally, feeling her starting to come to him. Leave me, I’m fine here! Get those fires damped!
Some people’s definitions of fine, he heard her grumble as she started concentrating on fire control. One leg here, one leg there, a hand over yonder... what is this, Creative Splinching 101?
I didn’t really need that. At least he still had his wand hand, and his wand. He could start Summoning his missing parts and putting himself back together...
Oh, no, you don’t. You hold still. I’m sending you some help.
Help like what?
Help like this. An image shot into his mind, a back view of Aletha running into the woods. And she has good news for you, too. So you just stay where you are.
Remus groaned, looking at where his legs had been. This is so embarrassing.
Deal with it. I’ll talk to you in a minute, this is getting out of hand.
xXxXx
Sirius was about ready to beat his head against a tree.
What did I say? I said go in the woods and stay out of trouble. Stay out of trouble. But I suppose that’s too difficult a concept for them.
"What are you all doing here?" Arthur Weasley demanded of the Pride, now back on their feet and staring around.
"We weren’t doing anything!" Ron said. "We were trying to stay out of the way!"
"Which one of you did that, then?" snapped Crouch, pointing upwards. "Speak up!"
"None of us!" said Harry indignantly. "We wouldn’t!"
"Do not lie to me!" shouted Crouch. "You are standing at the scene of the crime!"
"I don’t even have a wand!" Harry shouted back. "And we wouldn’t know how to do that!"
"Barty, settle down, they’re just kids," said a witch in a dressing gown. Sirius squinted at her. Let? No, that’s not her, it’s that casewitch. Davidson, Felicity Davidson. "How would they possibly know how to conjure that... thing?"
"Someone shouted something from over there," said Hermione, pointing into the woods to Sirius’ left. "It sounded like an incantation..."
"An incantation, did it?" Crouch peered suspiciously at her. "You seem to know quite a bit about the Mark, young miss..."
"Are you finished accusing my children?" said Sirius, stepping forward. Draco was with them, he could see that, but he couldn’t let that stop him now. Crouch was on the warpath, and he knew far too well what could happen in a situation like that. "None of them know anything about the Dark Mark."
"Are you certain of that, Black?" Crouch glared at him. "What about this one?" His wand darted out, and a ball of light sprang from it, striking Draco on the chest.
Draco looked horrified. The Pride shrieked collectively in outrage, Ron grabbing Hermione as she lunged forward.
"Shut up!"
"You liar!"
"Take it back!"
"Effing bastard!"
All in all, Sirius thought, it was a good thing the cries had been so intermingled that there was no way to tell which of the Pride had shouted that last epithet.
Not that I don’t agree, of course.
"He’s been with us since we got into the woods," said Harry as Neville released his arm. His eyes glinted feverishly at Crouch. "If you’re accusing him, then you have to accuse all of us. It wasn’t us. It was someone over that way." He pointed.
"It’ll be too late now, won’t it?" said Alice Longbottom rather wearily. "We’ve wasted enough time over the children that whoever it was will have Disapparated."
"Not necessarily," said Amos Diggory thoughtfully. "We might have caught one in the crossfire... I’ll go check it out..."
Sirius caught Crouch’s eye as Diggory disappeared into the trees. "I don’t care what you have against me," he said in an undertone. "Leave my kids out of it."
"That one’s not even legally yours at the moment," said Crouch, indicating Draco with a trace of something that Sirius would have called a sneer in another man. "And I’ll thank you not to interfere when I’m trying to find the truth in a case."
"Got one!" shouted Diggory’s voice from beyond the trees. "Laid ‘em out flat! It’s — good Lord..."
"What?" Crouch sounded highly disbelieving. "Who? Who is it?"
Diggory walked back into the clearing with a tiny, limp body in his arms — house-elf size, and more than size, Sirius realized as he saw that it was wearing a tea-towel. Harry had said something about a house-elf saving a seat in the Top Box, saving it for...
Crouch had gone dead white. "Winky," he said under his breath. "Then... no..." He turned and stormed into the woods the way Diggory had gone.
"No use looking, sir," Diggory called after him. "No one else there."
"Amos, you can’t think the elf conjured the Mark," said Arthur Weasley, coming in closer to look at the unconscious house-elf. "It’s a wanded spell..."
"And she had a wand." Diggory pulled one from his pocket. "In her hand. You know the laws, Arthur — that’s one she’s broken right there..."
Sirius frowned, looking at the wand. "May I see that?" he said, and Diggory handed it over.
It took him only a moment. He had seen this wand before, and often. "Harry?" he said.
"Huh?" Harry looked up. He was very pale, even accounting for the green light of the Mark.
"You said you didn’t have a wand."
"Yeah, can’t find it. Think I must have dropped it."
Wordlessly, Sirius held up the wand he’d taken from Diggory.
"Hey, you found it! Thanks!" Harry pushed between his friends to take his wand back, but Sirius shook his head.
"It looks like whoever conjured the Mark used your wand to do it," he said quietly. "You all heard it being conjured?"
The Pride nodded, several of them looking incredulously between the Mark in the sky and Harry’s wand in Sirius’ hand.
"Was it a human voice conjuring it?"
More nods. "A man’s voice, I think," said Neville. "But definitely human."
"It couldn’t have been a house-elf," agreed Meghan. "They all talk squeaky."
"Can I have it back now?" said Harry, grabbing for his wand.
"Not yet." Sirius deflected his hand, then made a grab of his own. Harry’s skin was hot and dry. He cursed. "You’re getting a fever."
Draco swore under his breath.
Felicity Davidson came over to them, ignoring the shouting match now taking place involving Crouch, Diggory, Bagman (when had he got there, Sirius wondered) and a reawakened Winky. "You really shouldn’t be talking to the boy in public, Black," she said quietly. "You know that."
"No, he doesn’t," said Aletha’s voice from behind him. "And neither do I. Casewitch Davidson, who was it that brought up the charge of abuse against Sirius?"
"Christopher Curcio, you know that."
"Yes, but I was making sure you did." Aletha had her arm around Sirius’ shoulders, and her voice was filled with lazy good humor. "Now, what if it could be proved that Curcio had some ulterior motive in that allegation?"
"Well, it’s already rather shaky — one unsubstantiated report, nothing to back it up, and mounds of evidence the other way... do you have evidence of some ulterior motive by the casewizard in question?"
"I’d say I do." Aletha was practically purring. "He’s just been arrested as a Death Eater."
Davidson’s face showed high glee matching Sirius’ own for one second before it closed down to professionalism again. "I see," was all she said. "Well, in that case... I think I can feel free to say the charge was groundless. Master Black, would you like to return home?"
Meghan and Hermione squealed together. Draco’s smile was nearly as bright as the Mark overhead. "Yes, ma’am," he said firmly.
Sirius felt an honest-to-God smile on his face, for the first time since Hermione had blurted out her message in the tent nearly an hour before. "Thanks," he said fervently. "Thanks a lot." He took another look at the casewitch. "You’re not related to Leticia Halcyon, are you? Auror Office?"
"No, not at all." Davidson chuckled. "She’s only my sister."
Sirius snickered. "Your parents might have got along with mine," he said. "Naming children on a theme."
"I doubt it. Mine were Muggles."
Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Muggles named their daughters Leticia and Felicity?"
"It was just past World War Two. They were happy to have survived."
"Understandable," said Aletha.
"Black!" shouted Diggory, whirling around. "Where’ve you gone with that — oh, there you are. We need that wand."
"What for?"
"To do a Priori Incantatem on it, of course!"
Sirius drew his own wand and touched it tip to tip with Harry’s. "Prior Incantato," he said, and a ghostly skull-and-snake shape appeared. "So it was used to cast the Mark," he said, dismissing the smoky shape with a wave of his own wand. "Doesn’t mean anything — anyone could have picked Harry’s pocket."
"She had it in her hand!" Diggory shouted, pointing at Winky, who was curled on the ground, weeping.
"Merlin’s beard, Amos, she might have picked it up after whoever cast the Mark dropped it," said Arthur in disgust. "You said it was a human voice, you lot?" he asked the Pride.
"Definitely human," said Ron, casting a worried look at Harry, who was starting to shiver. Hermione and Ginny were standing close to him. "A man, I think."
"And whoever cast it probably Apparated straight out after dropping the wand," Sirius concluded. "Has anyone checked for traces?"
"I can do that," said a wizard in a set of plaid pajamas. He raised his own wand and waved it around the clearing once, squinting. "Lots of Stunner traces..." he muttered. "A few unusual wandless... one wanded, Dark-looking, that’d be the Mark... and yes, there, an Apparition..." He chuckled. "Must have been distracted — the trace’s fractured all over. He’ll have splinched himself badly. Wherever he went, he’s in pieces now."
"We should look for parts, then," said Frank Longbottom, peering into the woods. "A part can lead us to the whole..."
"No," said Crouch and Aletha simultaneously. They looked at each other in surprise, then Crouch waved for her to continue.
"The person who Apparated out of here is a friend of mine," said Aletha. "He was keeping an eye on my children, as I’d asked him to, and was startled enough by the appearance of the Dark Mark that he Apparated away carelessly. I’ve helped him deal with that, it’s why I was delayed getting here. But he would no more conjure the Mark than I would."
"The matter is closed, then," said Crouch sternly. "Our perpetrator obviously escaped on foot, to avoid being tracked. His identity will be an issue for the Auror Office. And I shall deal with Winky myself, Amos, if you would be so kind as to allow it."
"What do you mean, deal with her?" said Hermione before Sirius could stop her. "She didn’t do anything — she just picked up a wand she found on the ground."
"She disobeyed me," said Crouch, looking down at his sniveling elf without pity. "I instructed her to remain in my tent. I told her specifically to stay where she was. And she has disobeyed me. I have no use for a servant who cannot follow orders." His eyes bored into Winky’s. "This means clothes."
Winky let out a fresh howl and flung herself at Crouch’s feet. "Please, master, no! Not clothes!"
Someone cursed. Sirius turned to look. Harry was now leaning against Ron, his eyes half-shut. Aletha laid a hand on his forehead, her other groping for her wand. "We have to get him home," she said over her shoulder. "Something’s wrong..."
"I have to tell you something," said Draco urgently to her. "It’s about my lion." He tapped the bag he had slung over one arm. "I got it back from Nott, and he said it wasn’t safe to touch — but Harry had it in his mouth, when he was Wolf, I couldn’t warn him off in time... and I touched it too, just for a second with my hand..."
Aletha snatched the bag from him and waved her wand around it, then frowned and repeated the motion. "What’s wrong?" Sirius asked.
Aletha shook her head. "Tell you later. I don’t think there’s any immediate danger, but we should get them home before Harry gets any worse, and before Draco starts."
"By the way, who was this mysterious friend of yours who was watching the cubs? The one who splinched himself?"
Aletha chuckled. "None of your business."
"That’s what I thought." Sirius grinned. He now had something he could tease Remus about unmercifully. "Is he back together? All right?"
"Yes, and yes. Why?"
"Whereabouts is he?"
"That way — but you’re not to go looking for him now," Aletha said, grasping Sirius’ wrist as he turned. "I don’t trust myself Apparating with someone Harry’s size. But he needs to get home now."
"Fine, you go find him and tell him what’s going on, all right? Get him to pack up for us. I’ll take Harry home."
"Draco needs to go too. And Meghan should go with you to keep an eye on them until I can get there. But you can’t take them all..." Aletha looked around. "Arthur!" she called out. "Alice, Frank! Do you have a second?"
"Of course," said Alice, coming over as Arthur and Frank did the same. "What is it?"
"We need a hand getting the children home safely," said Aletha. "Harry’s ill, and it looks like some of the others may go the same way soon, so we don’t want to wait for the Portkeys in the morning."
"Understandable, not to mention how crowded they’ll all be after this," said Arthur grimly. "I don’t think I can leave my own lot, though."
"I’m not asking you to. But I was wondering if you could keep an eye on Neville long enough that Alice and Frank could help us get ours home — if you would, that is," she said to Alice.
"Of course we will," said Alice, turning to Neville. "I should have known you’d fall in with bad company," she told him fondly, giving him a quick hug. "Well done. We’ll be back soon."
"All right, who’s taking whom?" Frank asked, surveying the crowd of children.
"Hermione can come with me," said Aletha. "We have a quick errand to do here before we go home, and I don’t think she’s getting ill. But Draco and Meghan should go straight home."
"Very well, then." Frank offered his arm to Meghan, who smiled and took it. Draco grasped Alice’s arm, nodding thanks to her.
Sirius lifted Harry into his arms, feeling his godson shivering uncontrollably, though his skin was hot to the touch. Closing his eyes, he envisioned the den room at the Den, small and peaceful and almost entirely empty of furniture, since they used it for other things... a turn in place, willing himself and Harry there, into the quiet and peace of a starlit night...
They hurtled through the compressing tube and popped out at the other end in the den room. Frank and Alice, not members of the household, would be Apparating to the yard, as good manners and the house’s wards called for. Sirius quickly knelt, laid Harry on the floor, and drew his wand to unlock and open the front door, then conjured a blanket to tuck around Harry. "Sorry, cub," he murmured, laying a hand briefly on Harry’s cheek. "I’ll be back soon, promise."
As Sirius came into the hallway, Draco darted in through the open door and jumped at him, hanging onto Sirius’ shoulders with both hands. "I’m baaaack," he said in Sirius’ ear.
"And I don’t know why we wanted you so much," Sirius said, rapping Draco’s knuckles lightly with his wand. "Gerroff there, you’re too big for this. Go sit with Harry."
"Yessir." Draco dropped off and ran through the living room towards the den room. Meghan had slipped past while they were talking, Sirius realized when he heard her voice admonishing Draco to "sit down and be quiet, I’m trying to work here!"
"Quite a character, isn’t she," said Alice, coming inside in time to hear this. "Frank’s gone back to see to Neville, so I’m in no hurry — do you need help with anything here?"
"Not at the moment... well, actually, yes." He could do it by himself, but it would take a while. "If you could just give me a hand getting some of the mattresses downstairs from the bedrooms."
"Mattresses downstairs?" Alice frowned, following him up to the first floor. "For the boys, so they don’t have to climb the stairs?"
"Yes, but... it’s a tradition of ours, if someone’s ill or unhappy, to sleep all in the same room. Moral support, I suppose. And also Letha’s sneaky little way of making sure we all get exposed to the germs at the same time, so she can dose us all and be done."
Alice chuckled. "I like that. All the mattresses?"
"Eventually, yes. If you could just start in there, there should only be one bed..."
It was as he was wrestling the second double mattress down the stairs that Aletha and Hermione Apparated into the living room. "Thank you for sticking around, Alice," said Aletha, hugging her friend. "You’re a gem."
"Oh, you’re very welcome. It’s not as if you wouldn’t do the same for us."
"I hope we someday can." Aletha had her wand out already. "Got it, Sirius," she called. "You can grab another one."
Sirius ended his levitation charm and took the stairs two at a time to get the remaining twin mattresses. Atop them, he piled seven sets of pajamas. It’s new moon, Harry’s ill, Draco might be getting it too, but he’s home, so we are going to have a den-night no matter what anyone says. Make up for the one that didn’t fly early this month.
The five of them had tried to make that month’s full moon a real den-night, but without three of the eight Marauders present, the den room had felt big and empty, and no one had been able to get comfortable or enjoy the stories which were listlessly offered in reply to Aletha’s listless invitation (she had told Sirius later that she felt wrong, saying what had always been Danger’s words to say). Eventually, everyone had moved back upstairs for the night, the first time in going on twelve years that they had slept in beds during a full moon.
But we can have it now. Make up for everything. He descended the stairs carefully and levitated his burden through two doorways. "Scat, cat," he said, nudging Neenie with his foot. "I need to put these here."
Neenie stalked out of the way with a look of injured dignity, then leapt onto Draco’s lap and began to wash a paw furiously. Meghan had a hand on Harry’s chest and one on his forehead.
"Pajamas, all," said Sirius, tossing sets to various people. "Get changed."
"We need to talk," said Aletha, snagging her own out of the air. "Living room."
Sirius nodded and followed her out. "What’s up?" he asked, kicking off his shoes and skinning out of his trousers.
"More reason to truly loathe Patroclus Nott." Aletha pulled off her blouse, and Sirius hastily used his wand to close the curtains on the front windows. The view was magnificent, but he didn’t want it shared. "I don’t know what is wrong with that man, but he seems to have it in for us. He put a contact poison on Draco’s lion, one with symptoms a lot like the Muggle flu. But he did something to it regarding timing, something I can’t quite figure out."
"How so?" Sirius took off his own shirt and pulled on the pajama top.
"Draco had agreed to meet the younger Nott at a certain time. If I’m reading the traces on the lion right, the poison would have been most virulent right then. If he’d touched it at that point, it would have gone to work on him immediately, and he would have been extremely ill. He’d recover on his own, it’s not fatal, but he would have been miserable for a while."
"But he didn’t."
"No, because Nott — the boy — warned him off touching it. So no one touched it for at least ten minutes. But then Harry, as Wolf, had it in his mouth." Aletha shook her head. "If the stuff had still been at full strength, he would have become ill almost immediately. But he didn’t. I can only think that the poison was designed to fade away very rapidly from the lion as soon as that moment in time — the moment of Draco and Nott’s meeting — was over. So that Harry got a lower dose than was intended for Draco, even though he had it in his mouth."
"And you can barely find traces of the stuff on the lion now," Sirius guessed, an idea starting to flutter in his mind.
"Yes. Draco was sure there was something wrong with it, so I tried the spell again at a higher level, and found the traces there, but I wouldn’t have thought to do it if he hadn’t been so insistent."
"So it did what it was supposed to do," said Sirius. "Because if you hadn’t known the lion was the whatchamacallit — the way Harry got ill..."
"Vector?"
"Yeah, that — you never would have known. You’d have thought he’d picked up the flu somewhere, not that he’d been poisoned."
"That’s true." Aletha smiled suddenly. "By the way, nice shooting. You have the one confirmed catch of the night. A few other people got off spells — I was one of them — but it was your spell that downed Curcio."
Sirius leaped into the air. "Yes!" he half-shouted, remembering at the last second that Harry was ill in the other room. "Yes, yes, yes — I told that bastard! Well, no, I didn’t tell him, but I wanted to — I wanted to tell him, I wanted to say, ‘If I ever see you outside this office, I’ll hex you so hard your head spins around,’ and I did it!"
Aletha chuckled, watching him dance around the room. "I don’t know about his head spinning, but he was caught in full Death Eater rig, taking part in Muggle-torture. That’s at least five years, isn’t it?"
Sirius shook his head. "Ten," he said gleefully. "Ten years." A thought struck him, and he started to sing. "Ten years, ten years, he’s going to jail for ten years, hooray..."
Aletha caught his hands in hers, laughing, and they spun around the room together. "Ten years, ten years, he’s going to jail for ten years — hooray!"
Someone cried out in the other room. The dance stopped immediately as Aletha ran to see what was going on, Sirius right behind her.
"No!" Harry was pushing Meghan away. "I don’t want you touching me!" His eyes were bright with fever, his voice slurred but understandable. "It’s too bloody hot in here anyway."
"Let’s get you uncovered, then," said Aletha, stripping the blankets away from Harry with a quick, practiced gesture. "And it’s time to get into your pajamas."
"Don’t want pajamas."
"Too bad."
"Fight you," Harry said, bringing his hands up into a wobbly semblance of a boxer’s stance. It would have been more impressive if he wasn’t lying flat on his back.
"You can fight me later. You’re getting into your pajamas now."
"No."
Aletha drew her wand and waved it over Harry, and his clothes started undoing themselves. "Yes."
Harry stiffened his body, resisting, but the clothes slithered off him anyway. "Cheater," he said through gritted teeth. "Not fair."
"Life’s not fair." Aletha directed the pajamas onto his body. "There, isn’t that more comfortable?"
"No."
"Fine, then it’s not. Is there something you want I can get you?"
"No. Go away."
"In a moment." Aletha laid a hand on his forehead and took it away hastily. "That’s what I thought," she said in an undertone. "Harry, who am I?"
"How should I know? Never saw you before."
Across the room, Draco stared. Neenie raised her head from his lap and hissed. Meghan froze in the act of unfolding a sheet.
"Do you know me, Harry?" Sirius asked, coming to his godson’s side.
"Sirius," Harry muttered, focusing on him. "Shouldn’t be here... you shouldn’t... not safe..."
"He’s delirious," said Aletha quietly. "His fever’s confused him. Stay with him, I’m going to get him some potions."
"Don’t like potions," Harry said clearly. "Don’t like Snape. He’s a bastard."
"Probably is," Sirius agreed.
"You don’t like him either." Harry sounded as if he were drunk, Sirius thought — his voice was louder than usual, and he was taking special care to pronounce each word clearly, even though he sometimes failed. "You let him hit his head. And he doesn’t like you. He wouldn’t listen. I hexed him. Ron’n’H’mione helped. Remember? He smashed into the wall and fell down when we all hit him at the same time..."
"Sounds like it must have been fun," said Sirius as Aletha returned. "Now, Harry, Snape didn’t have anything to do with these potions. This is Letha. Can you say hi to her?"
"I’m fourteen, not four," grumbled Harry, but he turned his head to focus on Aletha. "Hi," he said grudgingly.
"Hello, Harry." Aletha sat down beside him. "As you said, you’re not a baby anymore. So you can tell that you’re ill right now."
Harry nodded.
"These potions will help you get better. Will you take them?"
Harry eyed the bottles suspiciously. "Swear Snape didn’t make them?"
"I made them," said Aletha firmly. "Severus Snape has never been near them."
"All right." Harry looked back at Sirius. A lopsided grin split his face. "You like her," he sing-songed. "Don’t you?"
"Yes, I do," said Sirius, keeping his tone light, although he was severely shaken. If this is permanent, I’ll kill Nott myself. "I like her a lot."
"You gonna marry her?"
"Maybe," Sirius said. "Come on, Harry, you need to sit up to take these. I’ll help you."
"Don’t need help." Harry started to lever himself up, then stopped. Tried again, and stopped. "Yeah, I do," he finally admitted shamefacedly.
Sirius got an arm behind Harry’s shoulders and lifted him up gently. Aletha was just uncorking the first potion bottle when Harry spoke up again.
"What’s he doing here?"
Harry’s tone was full of distaste. Sirius groaned under his breath. There was only one other "he" in the room. We don’t need this right now...
"He’s ill too," Aletha said quietly. "Now take this, please. It will help you feel better."
"Don’t like him," said Harry, pushing the potion bottle away. His eyes were fixed on Draco, who had turned his head away. "I’m gonna go hit him. Stupid little ponce. Or I’ll get Hermione to hit him again. She hit him once pretty good." He giggled. "She hit him right in front of everyone — just smacked him right across the face..."
"Drink this, now," said Aletha firmly, closing Harry’s fingers around the bottle. "Or I will make you."
"Fine, fine," grumbled Harry, still glaring at Draco. "Where’d he get the cat? I didn’t think he had a cat."
Aletha started to lift Harry’s hand to his mouth. "I’ll do it," said Harry fretfully, pulling his hand away. Sirius hastily waved his wand, restoring the potion that had spilled. "Not a baby — I can drink on my own..."
He raised the bottle to his lips and drank the whole thing down, then licked his lips thoughtfully. "Doesn’t taste bad," he said. "Tastes good. Not like most of Madam Pomfrey’s..." The final sibilant trailed off as he suddenly went limp in Sirius’ arms.
Aletha sagged. "Thank God it worked," she said quietly. "Sometimes it doesn’t when they’re that bad. How does he feel to you, Sirius?"
"Heavy," Sirius said, lowering Harry to the mattress again.
"No, I mean temperature-wise."
Sirius laid a hand on Harry’s forehead and frowned. "Actually... no different."
Aletha swore bitterly. "That’s what I was afraid of," she said. "Resistant — he would have to lay in a resistant fever. That was one of the strongest fever reducers I’m allowed to give, since I’m not qualified yet, and it should have worked right away if it was going to work at all."
Across the room, Meghan was hugging Draco. "He didn’t mean it," she told him. "It’s the sickness talking, not him. He didn’t mean that."
"Will I get that bad?" Draco asked under his breath, as though he were afraid of the question.
Meghan laid a hand on his wrist and shook her head. "You’ll barely get it at all. Just a normal fever and chills. Not deliriousness."
"Delirium," Aletha corrected absently. "Sirius, I don’t know what to do. We could take him to St. Mungo’s, but I don’t know that they could do anything more for this than I could. We may be stuck just waiting it out, and I don’t know how long this was supposed to last..."
Harry moaned a little.
"Let me guess," said Sirius. "He won’t stay under as long as he should either."
"No, he won’t. And I can’t give him another dose of that for at least an hour, it’s not safe."
Meghan came across the room to touch Harry. "He’s not as bad as he was," she said certainly. "It made some difference."
"Thank you, Pearl." Sirius saw his wife’s face lose ten years in age. "That’s good to know. But he’s still sick?"
Meghan nodded. "It’s all through him," she said, her eyes half-shut. "A lot of it was in his mind, but your potion made it go all through him again. He’ll be more sick all over, but he won’t be sick in his mind now." She let go of Harry’s hand and returned to the nest she was sharing with Draco.
"I suppose that’s good," said Aletha unsurely.
"Definitely good," said Sirius. "You can’t treat him properly if he doesn’t trust you."
"Padfoot?" Harry’s voice was tentative. "Where..."
"Home," said Sirius quickly, turning to face Harry. "We’re back at the Den. You’re sick."
"No, really," Harry said, closing his eyes. "Thought I felt like this every day."
"You look like it every day," Draco volunteered. "Like a drowned rat."
"What’re you doing home?"
Aletha let out a silent sigh of relief. "Long story, Harry," she said. "How are you feeling?"
"Awful."
"Does anything hurt?"
"Everything."
"I think I can do something about that." Aletha sorted through her potion flasks. "Here." She conjured a straw in the mouth of one and set it in front of Harry. "Sip on that."
Harry sipped as ordered. "Padfoot?" he said uncertainly.
"Still here," said Sirius, placing his hand over Harry’s.
Harry smiled a little and sipped on the straw again. "What’s wrong with me?" he asked after a moment.
"Another long story," said Aletha smoothly. "Better for later."
"All right."
Sirius got up and stepped carefully over Harry, then changed forms and curled up at his back, first giving the back of Harry’s neck one soft lick. He felt rather than heard Harry’s tired laugh. "Tickles. Where is everybody?"
"Mostly here," said Aletha. "Do you want to see them?"
"Uh-huh."
Neenie burst out of Draco’s cocoon of blankets and ran to Harry’s side, rubbing her face against his and purring loud enough to be heard at the Burrow. Meghan followed, leaning over Harry to hug him briefly, and Draco came over in a dignified manner on all fours, which Sirius wouldn’t have believed if he’d been told about it. "You look terrible," he said conversationally when he arrived.
"Thanks. So do you."
"I don’t look as bad as you."
"No, but it’s your fault. You said not to touch that damned lion."
"So you do remember," said Aletha.
Harry nodded slowly. "Remembered a minute ago. Nott poison it or something?"
"Guess so," said Draco. "You shouldn’t have done that dance. It’s already working."
Harry gave a rough chuckle. "Danger’ll be mad," he said. "She told you not to make a habit of it."
"Of what?"
"Messing up and getting me hurt. Back with Buckbeak, at the beginning of last year."
"How was I supposed to know you’d pick the thing up in your mouth?"
"How else do wolves pick things up?"
Draco spluttered a little. "Well... you could have let me do it!"
"And you tried so hard to go do it..." Harry broke off as a wave of shivering overtook him. Aletha put her hands against his face, changing them from his forehead to his cheeks. Harry leaned into them, whining in his throat. Meghan and Draco found places next to him, and Neenie lay on top of him, purring. Sirius wished he could will his own strength into Harry, or pull the fever out of him, but that was impossible.
"Where’s Moony?" Harry asked, looking around the room. "Where is he?"
"He can’t be here right now, Harry. Lie still."
"No!" Harry shook his head, twisting. Neenie yowled and dug her claws into the blankets to hang on. "I want him! I want him to come!"
Sirius changed forms. "Harry, settle down," he said, putting his hands on Harry’s shoulders to hold him still.
"Don’t wanna," Harry complained, squirming restively. "I want Moony."
"I know you do. But there are times when you can’t get what you want."
"Fortunately, this isn’t one of those times," said Remus’ voice above them. Sirius turned in surprise. It had to be Danger, Danger letting Remus speak through her...
Well, no, I guess it doesn’t.
Neenie’s purring grew louder still as Remus knelt down. "Hello, Harry. Not feeling your best?"
Harry’s face broke into a drowsy smile. "Better now," he said, reaching for Remus’ hand. "Where were you?"
"Delayed. I’m sorry it took me so long to get here." Remus settled himself beside Harry and stroked his face. "I think you’ll feel better now."
"Danger with you?"
"Right here," said Danger, sitting down beside Remus. "Maybe now you’ll remember not to pick things up in your mouth if you don’t know what they are. Even if your wolf form says, ‘Oh, look at this, isn’t it fascinating!’"
Harry laughed a little, but Sirius didn’t hear his answer. He was on his feet, headed out of the den room.
Well, that’s that. They’ve showed up, so there’s no more need for me.
He sat down heavily in one of the chairs in the living room and started pulling moodily on a thread. Not a word to me. Not even thanks. Just, "I want Moony," and as soon as he shows up, it’s like I was never there.
He stared towards the curtained windows, half-listening to the quiet talk and laughter from the den room.
I guess they don’t really need me anyway. Not unless Remus isn’t around. I’m the beta, the second-rater. He grinned humorlessly. And I’m a poet, and didn’t know it.
Maybe I was being unrealistic. Harry’s the alpha of the Pride. It’s only natural he should want to be around Remus more now, to watch what an alpha should be like. It doesn’t mean he hates me. Sirius bit his lip, trying to keep the inevitable from happening. But why does it have to happen like this?
"Knut for your thoughts," said Danger’s shadowy shape from the corner of the room.
"Not worth it," Sirius said roughly.
"I doubt that. I got a good look at your face when Remus showed up." Danger slipped across the room and sat down on the floor in front of the chair, looking up at him. "What’s wrong, Sirius?"
Sirius explained, haltingly. Danger listened quietly until he ran out of words, then shook her head. "What are we going to do with you?" she asked rhetorically. "You’ve completely missed the point of what it means that Harry was calling for Remus."
"No, I haven’t. It means that he wanted Remus more than he wanted me."
"No, it does not! Would you kindly let me finish?" Danger glared at him until she was sure he was going to stay quiet. "What it means is that he cares for both of you. And he wants you both there when he’s ill and afraid. Or aren’t you aware that the first thing he said after you left was ‘Where’d Padfoot go?’ and the second was ‘Did I do something?’"
Sirius perked up a little. "He wants me back?"
"Yes." Danger closed her eyes for a moment, to roll them, Sirius was sure. "He wants you back. He was afraid that he’d said something that had offended you. And he’ll be more coherent now that Remus has drawn some of the fever off him."
Sirius’ mood shattered again. "Why should I come back? I mean, I will if he wants me, but what’s the point? I can’t do anything to help him. Letha knows what she’s doing with those potions, you and Remus can help keep him comfortable, but what can I do?"
"You can do what I saw you doing when we got here. Hold him when it looks like he might hurt himself. Sit with him when he needs you there. Talk to him, for God’s sake, be his father! The way most men do!" Danger swung her legs around and knelt up. "Sirius, is it at all possible that you’re feeling... how shall I say it... not special?"
"A little." Sirius pulled at his thread again. "A little."
"A little in the way that Severus Snape is a little prejudiced against Gryffindors, right?"
"Right."
"Look at me."
Sirius looked. The flat of Danger’s hand caught him between the eyes. "Ow. What was that for?"
"For being your wonderful, lovable, stupid, unthinking self. Sirius, don’t you understand what you do for us?"
"No."
"No, you don’t, do you? Have you ever considered that you’re by far the most normal of this little crowd of crazies?"
"Hunh." Sirius thought about that for a moment. "I guess I am."
"All the rest of us like to think. And sometimes we think too much. If it wasn’t for you, we’d all go floating away on our grandiose ideas and plans and get so full of ourselves that no one would ever want to be around us. But we have you. And because we have you, we have to think about you, and we have to realize that no matter how special we are, we’re human, and we can’t do everything." Danger stopped. "God, this sounds so pretentious."
"No, go on."
"All right. I think the reason you’re here with us — the big cosmic reason, not the practical reasons or anything, but the reason you are who you are — is to stick a pin in us and keep us from getting too full of ourselves. But even that’s not right, because it makes it sound like we’re your only reason for being here, and that’s not what I mean at all."
"Really?" Sirius slipped a hand down to find the ticklish spot on Danger’s neck. "You all seem like a good reason for being here to me."
"Yes, but not like that — stop it!" She smacked his hand. "I don’t mean that you’re not important except because of what you do for us — I mean that what you do for us is important, it’s vital — if it wasn’t for you, this whole Pack idea would never have worked — you’re our grounding pin, that’s what you are. You keep this whole family from short-circuiting."
"If I knew what that meant, it would be very nice."
"Ask Arthur, I’m sure he could explain it."
"I’m sure." Sirius slid out of the chair to sit on the floor next to Danger. "But I see what you’re trying to say. Stop wallowing in self-pity, of course we need you, now come back in and sit with your sick godson who wants you, right?"
"Something like that, yes."
"Sounds like good advice to me."
Harry’s face lit up again when he saw Sirius. "Hey, Padfoot," the boy said, reaching up just as he had to Remus earlier. "Where were you?"
"Oh, I just had to go rinse my head out," said Sirius lightly. "Get rid of some of that annoying waxy buildup."
"That’s called brains. You need those."
"Oops."
Everyone laughed, and Sirius felt his spirits lighten. That was stupid — more than usually stupid, I mean. Just because Harry wants Remus doesn’t mean he doesn’t want me. He doesn’t have to choose between us. And I’m glad Moony’s here too... though not if it means he’s going to get arrested...
Aletha caught his eye. "Start the den," she mouthed at him.
Sirius dismissed his worries for the time being and sat down cross-legged. "Be welcome, all, to this den-night," he said, getting everyone’s attention right away. "We are Pack now. Pack together."
"Pack forever," the others chorused.
"Who will tell a story?" said Danger, her eyes on Remus, dancing with mischief. "Who will remind us of what it means to be Pack?"
"I’m not telling that," said Remus firmly.
"Fine, then I will."
"All right, I guess I am telling that." Remus rubbed his forehead. "Do I have to?"
"Come on, Remus, two of us already know," said Aletha, grinning. "And the cubs will find out soon enough."
"Not if you don’t tell them," grumbled Remus.
"Things get out," said Danger lightly. "Even if you don’t mean them to."
"You are mean, cruel, horrible women," said Remus flatly. "Why did we marry them again, Sirius?"
"Because they asked us?"
"That has to be it."
"What happened?" asked Harry, now propped on one elbow and looking far more comfortable.
Remus sighed and leaned back against the wall. "I splinched myself."
Hermione gasped. Meghan squealed. Draco frowned. "Didn’t that one wizard say something about a failed Apparition trace back at the clearing?" he asked.
"Yes," said Remus sourly. "It was mine."
"I thought I smelled something," said Harry. "It was you."
Remus nodded. "I was keeping an eye on you," he said. "And at the same time, helping Danger keep the fires under control at the campsite..."
"Of course!" Sirius slapped the mattress. "Frank said things weren’t burning like they usually did — that was you two, wasn’t it?"
"Well, it was just me after a while," said Danger. "Remus heard something in the trees — must have been whoever conjured the Dark Mark — and went to see what it was."
"I got a whiff of him," said Remus. "And it was a him. Human male, not very old, and..." He frowned. "Not entirely sane. But that’s only a guess."
"It sounds about right for a Death Eater," said Aletha. "What happened then?"
"The Mark went up, you lot Apparated in, and I knew I had to get out of there — but I was so distracted that I couldn’t keep my mind on what I was doing, and the next thing I knew..."
"You were lying in the forest without either leg or your left arm," Danger finished when Remus hesitated.
The cubs burst out laughing. "Thank you for letting me tell it," Remus said wearily.
"Get over yourself, Moony," Sirius said, chuckling. "There really isn’t much way to make that sound better."
"You got splinched," Harry chortled. "Moony got splinched..."
"See, this is exactly what I was hoping to avoid," said Remus, shaking his head.
"Not going to happen," said Danger. "Not with these cubs."
"Lucky it didn’t happen while you were still teaching," said Aletha. "It would have been all over the school by morning."
Remus blanched. "Yes. Thank God."
"Remus — why are you here?" asked Sirius, deciding to be direct. "Not that I’m not happy to see you, but I’d rather a den-night not get broken up by your being arrested..."
"No fear of that," said Remus. "You made sure of it."
"I did?"
"Yes. Or didn’t you know that Christopher Curcio was also the main force behind the directive that I couldn’t see the cubs at all?"
Sirius shook his head. Remus nodded. "While I was packing up the tents, I ran into a casewitch, or rather she ran into me," he said. "Felicity Davidson, she said her name was..."
"I know her."
"She told me about Curcio getting arrested — which I knew — and that she would personally stand surety for letting me come see the cubs at least twice a week — which I didn’t. And which I was very grateful for. Especially because I knew somebody was sick." Remus looked pointedly towards Harry. "And that when somebody gets sick, he likes to have everyone around him, because he likes to be the center of attention."
"Wonder who that is," Harry said with a sleepy grin, lying down again. "Padfoot?"
"Yeah?"
"Tell a story?"
"Yeah, tell a story," echoed Meghan from her place next to Aletha. "Please."
Draco nodded, settling himself more comfortably against wolf-Danger. Hermione pressed his hand once, then changed forms, whisked across the room, and leapt into Remus’ lap. Sirius watched his friend’s face melt into bliss as he stroked the soft tri-colored fur.
This is what it should always be like.
But that was why he liked stories. In stories, it always could be like this. At least at the end. There had to be a middle filled with problems, or what was the story good for?
You know, that’s our problem. We’re always right in the middle of the story. We can’t see the good parts coming, and we sometimes forget about the good parts we’ve had. But we just have to trust that they’re there, and that they will be again.
And that’s enough philosophy for now. The Pack wants a story, and I’m a storyteller.
Resting his back against the wall, making sure everyone could see him without straining, Sirius began.
Author Notes:
The tune Sirius and Aletha sing to is "My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean."