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Chapter 3: Exit the Dragon

"Lars Vilias?" repeated Danger. "The Minister of Magic is dead?"

"Give me that," said Sirius, taking the paper out of Remus’ hands and skimming the article. "Bones and Scrimgeour collapsed? That can’t be right, I saw them both just this morning, and they looked fine."

"Which is probably why Healers suspect foul play," Aletha said, reading over Sirius’ shoulder. "That, and three of the highest Ministry officials all falling ill at the same time. Someone is trying to overset our government."

"Who would do that?" asked Hermione.

Draco snorted. "Who do you think, Hermione?"

"But what would he get out of it? It’s not like he can become Minister."

"The more chaotic things are, the less likely it is that he’ll get found and arrested again. I bet he sent Wormtail to poison them all three, and Bones and Scrimgeour just didn’t eat enough of it to kill them, and Vilias did."

"But Vilias has been looking sick for a while," countered Harry. "Remember last year, at Hagrid’s? He didn’t look well even then. And Ron was saying how his dad never sees Vilias anymore."

"So maybe it worked better on Vilias because he was already sick," said Meghan. She looked at the Pack-parents. "What happens now?" she asked.

"Someone in the government will take care of things until they can hold emergency elections," said Remus. "I don’t know who’s going to be running, though."

"Maybe they’ll get Bagnold out of retirement," suggested Sirius.

"Or maybe Fudge," said Danger. "If he’s fully recovered from his own, er, ‘health problems.’"

Sirius and Remus carefully avoided each other’s eyes and whistled discordant tunes.

"I’m sure they’ll ask Dumbledore," said Aletha. "And I’m just as sure he’ll say no. He always does."

"Always?" said Harry. "How many times has he been asked?"

"What are we up to now, five?" Aletha asked the other adults.

Remus frowned. "Let me see... yes, I think five is correct."

"Why doesn’t he ever accept?" asked Hermione.

Aletha chuckled. "He told me once that he prefers pleasant surprises to unpleasant ones. Therefore, he’d rather work with students, who are expected to be immature and often surprise him pleasantly by showing a great deal of maturity, than with politicians, to whom the reverse applies."

The cubs, once they had worked through this, found it funny.

"And I hate to sound callous, but I don’t really see how this affects us," said Sirius. "I mean, it’s a shame Vilias is dead, he was a decent Minister, but as long as we don’t get a total idiot in his place, I don’t see that it matters."

"So long as we don’t find out that his people were using the same kinds of security we are," said Remus.

Sirius glared at him. "You’re a pain in the arse when you’re right, you know that?"

"I try. And I do have an idea about security, but we’ll talk about it later. You do have a point, though, about this affecting us personally. I don’t see that it will, except that everything even remotely related to the Ministry will now move exceptionally slowly."

"Everything?" repeated Hermione, looking a trace uneasy.

Remus nodded. "Everything."

"Who will you be reporting to on Monday, then?" Danger asked Sirius.

"Probably Gawain Robards, he’s Scrimgeour’s second-in-command. Not a bad type, overall. Very political, like a lot of the upper ranks, but that’s how they get there. You don’t stay at the Ministry unless you can play politics."

"And can you play politics?" asked Danger.

Sirius grinned. "Just watch me."

"Heaven help us all," said Aletha dryly.

xXxXx

Sirius arrived at the Ministry on Monday morning and, as he had predicted, was met by Gawain Robards, a harried-looking wizard who had only time to say, "Oh, Black, of course — good to have you — you’ll be working with Shacklebolt — down the hall, take a left, third cubicle on the right — he’ll brief you, I’m terribly busy, have to run..."

Sirius stepped aside as Robards dashed for the lift, just making it. He watched the door close, then turned back to the empty chair. "Good morning," he said to it. "Nice to meet you, sir. Shame about Auror Scrimgeour. I hope he recovers soon. Auror Shacklebolt? That’s excellent. Thank you, sir, I’m sure we will get along."

Footsteps and the shifting of a shadow on the wall warned him of someone behind him just in time for him not to yelp as he turned around and nearly ran into Kingsley Shacklebolt himself. The tall, bald, black wizard looked down at him with amusement. "Talking to yourself, Black?"

"Just having the pleasant conversation Robards didn’t have time for," answered Sirius. "Nice to see you again, Shacklebolt." They shook hands.

"We’re not on the really hard cases," warned Shacklebolt as they returned to his cubicle together. "No escaped prisoners. That might be a conflict of interest in your case, anyway."

"Might." Sirius kept his face level. He wasn’t about to betray how much he would have liked to be the one to find Malfoy, or Wormtail, or preferably both.

And how much have my priorities changed, that I list them in that order?

"We’re on a three week rotation. One week office work, one week patrols, one week training with the apprentices."

"Oh, that should be fun. You know the apprentices well?"

"Names and faces at least. I know the older ones better. Why?"

"You know a final year apprentice, Nymphadora Tonks?"

"The one who won’t let anyone use her first name. Yeah, I know her."

"She’s my cousin."

Shacklebolt looked Sirius over. "If I knew what she looked like normally, I might say you have a family resemblance," he said.

"Thank you." He was going to like working with this man, Sirius decided.

"This one’s mine," said Shacklebolt, turning into a cubicle. "You’re next door. And we have a little window we can talk through."

Sirius entered his own cubicle, which was bare of all but a desk, chair, and file cabinet at the moment. He found the little window and slid it open and closed several times. "I should warn you," he said through it. "I’m easily amused."

"I can see that." Shacklebolt had a tolerant grin on his face. "I think I’ll like working with you, Black."

"It’s mutual. And call me Sirius."

"Then I’m Kingsley."

They shook hands again through the window.

xXxXx

18 August

Dear Professor Dumbledore,

There’s been a most distressing accident. I was checking on the products of my summer’s jam making and found one jar of raspberry jam that didn’t seal correctly. It’ll have to be eaten right away, before it goes bad. I was hoping you could give us a hand with it, perhaps this afternoon with some fresh scones and tea.

GGL

P.S. We might find some time to talk about recent events and safety, if you don’t mind.

xXxXx

It was early on the morning of 25 August. Sirius yawned, partly to get that just-Apparated feeling out of his ears, and partly because it was early and he would have liked to be back in bed with Aletha.

I forgot about that part of work. Getting up at truly horrid hours of the morning.

"Morning, Arthur," he said as his neighbor Apparated in next to him. "Have you seen the Prophet?"

"Oh, yes." Arthur indicated the paper tucked under his arm. "Molly wasn’t sure whether to laugh or scream. But he was the only one of the candidates with any real experience."

"And that ‘reluctant leader’ act he put on was very convincing." Sirius scowled. "All that ‘well, if you insist’ and ‘for the good of the people’ and such. If we’d known he’d be back, we would have been more careful with those photographs."

"What photographs?"

Oops. Sirius pretended he’d gone suddenly deaf, and Arthur didn’t pursue it any further.

I need to be more careful. Cornelius Fudge is now once again a very powerful man. And it is not wise to humiliate the powerful.

Listen to me. I sound like Remus.

"Have you heard anything about Scrimgeour or Bones?" he asked Arthur. If there’s anything to know, he’ll know it. Best connected man in the Ministry.

"They’re still ill, but the prognosis is good. They’ve got one of the top research Healers investigating what happened to them. Your cousin, I think."

"Andy? Andromeda Tonks?"

"She’s the one. We’ve met occasionally, but it was some time ago, and I’m not sure she would remember me, except as Charlie’s father."

"I’ll have to reintroduce you," said Sirius. "Maybe at Christmas, or sooner if we get the chance."

"I’d like that."

The lift arrived, and the crowd of wizards and witches climbed aboard.

xXxXx

At that precise moment, Andromeda would have greatly preferred to be reintroduced to her bed. They hadn’t met in far too long.

I might not even recognize Ted if I saw him. Or Dora.

What was I thinking? Even working from home, I can’t do two full-time projects. No one can.

But they’re both so important. And I can’t give either of them to anyone else. Everyone else thinks the Longbottoms are a lost cause... but I’m the best candidate to find out if Vilias and Bones and Scrimgeour were poisoned...

She shook her head. Enough of this. I’m a Healer. I’ll Heal myself. No more work today. A shower, a good meal, then I’ll sleep until Ted and Dora get home tonight and spend some time with them before I start working again.

The objective here is not for me to kill myself.

xXxXx

Ron groaned and slammed a book shut. "I can’t find anything that looks right!" he complained. "Half this stuff doesn’t make sense anyway!"

"Don’t panic," said Danger, taking the book. "This is one of the longest phases of Animagus transformation. Finding the spells, and then learning how to do them."

Ron sighed hugely. "Why does it take so long anyway?"

Danger beckoned for him to follow her. "We’ll go in the other room," she said. "So we don’t disturb anyone else."

Ron reddened slightly. "Sorry," he said to the rest of the Pride, who either waved dismissive hands at him or ignored him entirely.

"So you want to know why it takes so long to find these spells?" Danger asked in the kitchen, pouring both of them pumpkin juice.

"Yeah. I mean, they’re just spells, aren’t they? Why can’t everyone who turns into the same sort of animal use the same spells? There have to have been other hawk Animagi before me. Why can’t I find out what spells they used and use them?"

"That might be a good place to start," acknowledged Danger. "But tell me this. Are you the same as any other wizard?"

"No."

"How are you different?"

Ron stared at her. "Lots of ways."

"Name some. How are you different from... let’s say, Harry?"

"Well, I’m taller. I don’t wear glasses. I have red hair, his is black. I play chess better than he does, but he flies better than I do..."

Danger held up her hand. "That’ll do for the moment. Now, imagine for a second that you and Harry had the same Animagus form. Do you think, in light of everything you just said, that the two of you could use the same spells?"

"I don’t see why not. I mean, the spells are just changing us into animal form. We’d look different when we got there, but we’d be the same every other way."

"And how would you get back to human form, afterwards?"

"By undoing the spell..." Ron’s eyes cleared slightly. "Is that why the spells have to be special for us? So that when we undo them, we’re still us afterwards?"

"Yes. And so that you stay you, even in animal form. When I turn wolf, I still have my human mind, and all my memories and thoughts. I think a little differently, a little more simply, but I’m still essentially human. As you will be, even in hawk form."

"So we’re finding spells, not just to turn us into animals, but to turn us into us as animals." Ron frowned. "Did that make any sense?"

"Perfect sense. And you’ve got it exactly."

"Has it ever happened the other way? Where someone didn’t use the spells right, and got turned into just an animal, not them as an animal?"

"Yes."

"What happened to them?"

"They were trapped in animal shape all their lives," said Danger. "Because they didn’t have any humanity left. It’s one of the greatest dangers of this process."

Ron gulped. "I think I understand now," he said. "I wish our teachers at school would explain things like this. I never understand why they want us to do things the way they do."

"Usually they have good reasons," said Danger. "Occasionally they’re just set in their ways. I’m sure you can think of a few like that."

"A few." Ron grinned at her, then downed the rest of his pumpkin juice. "Thanks, Mrs. Danger — I mean, Professor."

"Back to your studying, hawk-boy, before I decide I need a new quill," said Danger, shooing him towards the music room.

xXxXx

He soared on high, his wings set to make the most of the thermal currents rising from the rocks below. He could see everything below him in wonderful detail. Including the slight shifting where no such movement should be.

Ah-ha. Invisibility Cloak, indeed.

But as he circled once more, he saw that this was due less to his own eyesight than to the foolishness of the Cloak’s owner. A long, straight, dark-furred tail lay on a rock, apparently with nothing attached to it.

Perfect. If I come in fast, he’ll never know what hit him.

He wheeled once more, to set up, then dove. Faster — faster — faster —

Suddenly, where the tail had been, there was a scurry of movement, and a flash of white teeth grinning up at him —

He screeched and broke off his dive barely in time, as the teeth clashed together just below him, harvesting one tail-feather for their pains. With his flight thus interrupted, his landing was the opposite of graceful, and just to put the final touch on, he lost control even of his form and hit the ground hard, human once more.

Laughter behind him clued him that his erstwhile prey had also changed back. He rolled over, brushing dirt off his face. "You think you’re funny, don’t you?" he said angrily.

"Yes," gasped out his friend, rolling around on the rocks in an ecstasy of mirth. "You fell for it! I set you up, and you fell for it!"

He sat up and dusted off the rest of him. "You little piece of dung," he said, but without any real anger now. He must have looked pretty funny, after all, and it was his own fault if he couldn’t recognize a setup after living all his life with the twins. "See if I help you the next time Draco steals your towel."

"The next time Draco steals my towel, he’s going to turn blue," said Harry, catching his breath. "Fred and George are letting me test one of their new products. It’s a paired thing, soap and towel. If you use one of them and not the other, after about fifteen minutes you turn a pretty color. Green for the soap, blue for the towel."

"Remind me not to borrow your soap."

"Don’t worry, I won’t."

"Good." Ron held out his hand to Harry, and as Harry took it, pulled harder than was necessary, yanking his friend past him, off-balance. Harry went with the movement, using it to try to twist Ron’s arm, but Ron brought a foot up and shoved him away, and Harry let go and collapsed in a heap, laughing.

"Nice," he said, getting up by himself. "We’re all getting pretty good at that."

Ron nodded. "Now all we have to do is convince the Death Eaters to come after us without their wands."

"We’ll figure something out. Race you back to the castle?"

"Give me a start?"

"Sure."

Ron concentrated. The world went a funny shape and became much clearer, with every movement instantly noted. Harry, suddenly a giant, bent down and offered his wrist, and Ron sidled onto it, bating a little. Harry stood up, leaned back, and shot his arm forward as if throwing a ball, and Ron launched himself into the sky.

He loved flying on a broom, but this was even better. This was real.

"Ready?" called Harry from below.

Ron positioned himself on a thermal, caught his breath, and squawked a yes.

"Go!" Harry vanished. In his place was a rangy, black-furred wolf, bounding towards the Forest and distant Hogwarts. Ron broke out of the updraft and dived towards Harry, giving voice to a long, joyous shriek as he came, and brushing his talons through Harry’s back fur at the bottom of his dive.

Nothing in the world could be as much fun as this.

xXxXx

"Ron, wake up."

Ron blinked. His face was pressed against something firm and smooth, which smelled like paper. His back was bent at an odd angle. All he could see was a large expanse of white and black.

"You fell asleep in your book," said Ginny in a patient tone. "You need to wake up now. It’s almost time to go home for dinner. Charlie’s coming tonight, remember?"

"I wasn’t sleeping," said Ron, lifting his head. "I was resting my eyes."

"Do you always drool when you rest your eyes?" inquired Harry from behind Ginny.

"Shut up. You snore."

"I do not."

"You do so. Doesn’t he?" Ron appealed to Ginny.

"I’m not getting into this," said Ginny, shaking her head. "You two fight it out."

Harry looked around the room. "Hermione!"

"What?" Hermione looked up from her book.

"Do I snore?"

"Yes."

Ron laughed. "Thank you!"

"I do not!" protested Harry indignantly. "Neville!" Neville, who had just come in from the kitchen, jumped at being so loudly addressed. "Do I snore?"

Neville looked uncomfortable.

"Just tell me the truth," said Harry with a sigh.

"Yes," Neville admitted. "But it’s a very polite snore. Ron’s is much worse."

Ron bridled. "Oy!"

"He’s right," said Ginny. "When you snore, it sounds like the castle’s falling down."

"First I drool, now I snore. Make up your mind!"

"You do both," said Hermione. "And you talk in your sleep."

"I do not!"

"Yes, you do. At our last den-night last year, you yelled something about Quafflepocking that woke me out of a sound sleep. I wanted to kick you."

"You always kick at den-night," countered Ron. "That’s why no one will sleep near you. They know they’ll wake up all black and blue."

"Better than deaf, next to you," shot back Hermione.

xXxXx

In the kitchen, Remus looked at Draco, who appeared to be ready to hide under the table, and Luna, who was her usual oblivious self, immersed in one of the books about avian transformation. Meghan was attempting to make an unobtrusive exit. Remus coughed slightly, making her jump guiltily, then motioned her to go. The shouting from the music room, rather than ceasing, was elevating.

"Is it just me," he said conversationally, "or do Ron and Hermione seem very conversant with one another’s sleeping habits?"

Luna looked up from her book but didn’t say anything. Possibly she’d caught sight of Draco’s hand, which was signaling an emphatic Shut up where he thought Remus couldn’t see it.

"And did I hear Ron mention the words ‘den-night’ and ‘always’ in the same sentence? Seeming to argue that he is familiar with den-nights as a recurring phenomenon?"

Draco tried an ingratiating smile which didn’t quite work. "Would we be in trouble if I said yes?"

Well, that answers that question.

As if I didn’t already know.

"Does anything go on at these den-nights that parents wouldn’t like knowing about?"

Draco shook his head. "We tell stories and sing songs," he said. "Practice hand-to-hand. Do homework. Sleep. That’s about it."

"Where?"

Draco gave an artfully careless shrug. "Around."

"All right, if you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine, as long as ‘around’ isn’t anywhere you shouldn’t be."

"It isn’t," said Luna. "The Map said it was safe, and Alex said we could use it."

Draco winced. Remus didn’t blame him. He was having a hard time believing what he’d heard. "Alex said?" he asked delicately.

"Should I not have said that?" Luna asked Draco.

"Probably not."

"Oh. I’m sorry."

"It’s all right."

"Why don’t you try saying that less like someone’s twisting your arm," suggested Remus.

Draco glared at him.

"It really is all right, you know," Remus added. "If you don’t want to tell me any more, you don’t have to. As long as it’s nowhere dangerous and you’re not intruding on anyone."

"Thank you, it isn’t, we’re not. Excuse me?" Draco slid off his chair and headed for the stairs.

"He’s been touchy ever since his father escaped from prison," observed Luna. "Do you think he’s afraid?"

"Probably."

"He shouldn’t be. The wards on your house won’t let anyone through who means to hurt him."

"How do you know that?"

"I can see it. I see lots of things other people don’t seem to. It’s why I like being with the Pride. All of us are a little different than other people." Luna smiled, then returned to her book.

Luna Lovegood, mistress of understatement.

And just where are you that you can hear her?

Upstairs in our bedroom, borrowing your ears.

Without asking me?

What’s wrong with that? It’s not like I’m snooping on anything private, you’re not hiding in a room somewhere telling secrets about me.

It’s the principle of the thing.

Of what thing?

Are you being deliberately obtuse?

No. Are you?

No, but... Remus stopped, taking a deep breath. I would appreciate it if you didn’t use my senses without my permission.

Oh, come on, Remus. What does it hurt? You never know I’m even there.

That’s the point!

It is?

Yes! I shouldn’t have to wonder if you’re looking through my eyes or not before I look at something!

Are you looking at things you don’t want me to see?

No!

Really now? Then why don’t you want me along?

It’s... it’s just... it’s a matter of privacy.

Privacy? Since when have either of us had that?

That’s the point. We deserve it. And if you’re just going to sneak into my mind whenever you want, I can never be sure I’m alone.

Well, be fair, Mr. Righteous. You could just as well do the same to me.

Yes, but I won’t!

That’s what you say now, but the first time you suspect I’m up to something you won’t approve of, I know you’ll be right in there.

No, I won’t! I wouldn’t do anything like that to you!

Oh, really? This from the man who drilled a hole through the wall in the prefects’ bathroom to get a good look at the girls’ side?

Remus’ hands contracted on the edge of the table. Confound you, woman, I was fifteen years old!

I’ll remember that for two years from now.

Two years... oh. Remus chuckled slightly. I somehow doubt either of our boys will be named prefect.

Oh, one never knows, does one? Danger paused. Weren’t we fighting a minute ago?

I think we were. But now we’re not.

Funny how that happens.

Yes, it is. But the point remains. Please don’t just come into my head unless there’s an emergency.

Point taken. And the same applies to you, even though I know you never do anyway.

I’ll admit I’ve been tempted...

Ah-ha!

But as far as I can recall, I’ve never followed up on that temptation. Remus allowed his tone to range a bit into the "smug" zone.

Well, you know what they say. A clear conscience is the sign of a bad memory.

And the only person who quotes proverbs is one who has nothing original to say.

Come here so I can hit you.

Can I convince you to kiss me instead?

Possibly, possibly.

In that case, I’m on my way.

xXxXx

Ted Tonks got up the next morning to find his wife still working.

"Andy, sweetie, you don’t need to do this to yourself," he said, leaning on the doorframe of her study. "Is this really so important? No one’s going to die if you don’t finish this at a certain time."

Andromeda shrugged. "I don’t know. I just feel driven right now. Like I might not have another chance. And I slept most of yesterday — I have my days and nights all turned around — so I’m fine for another few hours here. I promise I’ll sleep when I need to. And eat."

"Good. Ruddy Healers, never take care of themselves."

"Stupid parchment shufflers, always think they know how to run everyone’s lives."

They kissed.

"Make sure Dora’s up," Andy called after her husband as he left. "And ask her to come and say goodbye to me before she goes."

xXxXx

Nymphadora Tonks rummaged through her bag, then swore. She’d left her essay at home. And she could absolutely not look like a scatterbrained little twit in front of her cousin Sirius. He’d tease her about it for years.

She checked her watch. She had just enough time to run home and get it if she hurried.

No more than a minute later, she fell out of the fireplace at home. "Mum, it’s just me!" she called out. "I forgot something!"

There was a loud bang, as if her mother had dropped something. Then silence.

"Mum? Are you all right?"

No answer.

Tonks frowned, then started for the stairs. "Mum?"

Still no answer. She was halfway up now, and starting to get worried. "Mum, this isn’t funny. What’s going on?"

Something cream-colored caught her eye on the hallway floor. Parchment, it was a scrap of parchment, dropped by someone in a hurry, it looked like. Had her mother had an urgent call from the hospital?

Tonks came level with the doorway and squinted into the room. "She keeps it so dark in here," she muttered, drawing her wand. "Lumos."

Then she screamed.

xXxXx

The Floo at the Burrow chimed, making Molly Weasley look up in surprise. Had Ron or Ginny forgotten something?

But neither of her children emerged from the fireplace. Instead —

"Aletha! What a surprise! I wasn’t expecting—" Molly got a look at her friend’s face and stopped. "Is something wrong?"

"Yes, I’m afraid so. Is Charlie here?"

"He’s upstairs. I’ll get him."

"Thank you." Aletha sat down at the kitchen table, looking as if she were holding off tears by sheer force of will, as Molly hurried up the stairs.

What in heaven’s name could have happened that she needs to see Charlie?

Thankfully, her second son was a light sleeper. A few good shakes, and he was following her down the stairs. "Mrs. Freeman-Black," he said respectfully, offering his hand.

"Hello, Charlie." Aletha shook hands with him. "Would you sit down, please? I’m afraid I have some bad news for you."

Charlie sat, as did Molly.

"Andromeda Tonks is dead."

Molly gasped in horror. "Dead? How? What happened to her?"

Aletha was looking at neither of them. "She appears... to have been murdered." She turned her attention to Charlie. "Tonks is at our house, and asking for you."

"I’ll go right away," said Charlie in a rough voice, and shoved his chair back, standing up and Disapparating.

"He’s in his nightclothes," said Molly, staring at the place where Charlie had been. "But I suppose that doesn’t matter... oh, Aletha, how horrible. I’m so sorry." The words couldn’t possibly do what she wanted them to, but she hoped they would help, at least a little bit.

Unfortunately, they seemed to have the opposite effect.

"Oh, dear." Molly got up and pulled her chair around the table, setting it directly beside the now sobbing Aletha, so that she could put a comforting arm around the other woman’s shoulders and Summon a box of tissues for her.

Murdered. But who would do such a thing? Who would murder a Healer?

"I’ve made up my mind," said Aletha a few minutes later, wiping her eyes. "I’ve decided."

"About what?"

"I’m going back to school. I’m going to finish my training and become a Healer myself. There are always too few. And now there’s one fewer than there used to be. I’m going to change that."

"Good for you," said Molly, and meant it. She had often thought that her brothers would have been quite annoyed with Aletha for giving up her Healer’s training over them, although she had never told Aletha so.

I only hope Dora doesn’t give up her own training over this.

xXxXx

"I’ll find them," said Tonks’ voice, muffled both because of her tears and because she was speaking into Charlie’s chest. "I’ll find them, and I’ll bring them in, and I hope they get the Kiss for this. They deserve it."

Tonks and Charlie were in the music room. Sirius had gone back to the Ministry, to find Ted Tonks and break the news to him as gently as possible, and to get a team of Aurors in to study the Tonks’ home and see what they could find out. Remus was upstairs with the cubs, comforting them and answering their questions as best he could.

And I... am doing the dishes. By hand. I don’t think I could concentrate enough to use my wand right now.

Danger sniffled and watched a tear fall into the dishwater. God, who would do this? Who would kill Andy? She never hurt anyone, and she’s helped so many people... she suspected us for all those years, but she kept our secret, even after she sent us Narcissa’s ring for Draco...

She stopped, her hands closing convulsively around a wooden spoon.

Narcissa’s ring. Andy was there when Narcissa died. And she saw Lucius there, in custody, and Stunned him because she couldn’t stand the look on his face...

I wondered how long it would take you.

Now who’s eavesdropping?

You were broadcasting again. You never have learned not to do that.

Never mind that now. Do you really think...

It seems plausible. But let’s not jump to conclusions.

A sound like a dishtowel snapping jerked Danger back to awareness of her surroundings. Sirius sat down wearily at the table. "Her study was ransacked," he said. "Her notebooks were in the bottom of her cauldron, covered with all the samples she’s taken and all the potions she’s tested. No one’s sure if all the notes are there, or if anyone will be able to read them and find out what she’d just figured out that made someone so sure they had to kill her."

"Remus and I had a thought," said Danger quietly. "Andy had history with Lucius Malfoy. Besides being his wife’s sister, she Stunned him the night Narcissa died."

Sirius nodded. "Makes sense. And if it was him and Wormtail behind the poisonings, they’d want to get rid of anything that might lead back to them. Besides, what better way could they have to remind us that we’re none of us safe?"

"Yes." Danger dropped the spoon into the sink and sat down beside Sirius at the table. "Yes."

Neither adult heard the light footsteps on the stairs.

xXxXx

Draco ran into the boys’ bedroom and dropped down on his bed, shaking, utterly grateful that his siblings were with Moony in his and Danger’s bedroom.

I should have known. Damn it, I should have known.

Padfoot said it himself. "We’re none of us safe."

No one is safe, as long as I’m here.

It’s me he wants. And he’ll go through anyone in his way to get me. He just proved it.

I can’t let him hurt the Pack. But he will, if they try to protect me.

So I can’t let them protect me.

I’ll go tonight, after it’s dark. They can’t stop me if they don’t see me.

He started thinking about what he could take with him, and where he could go.

I can’t stay anywhere too long. If I keep moving, he’ll take longer to find me. The longer he takes, the more likely it is he’ll get caught. Then I could come home...

He snorted at his own folly. Fat chance. More likely, he’ll catch me and do whatever he wants to me — try to turn me — and get caught while he’s doing that, since he’ll have to stay in one place to do it.

Or maybe he won’t get caught. Maybe he’ll succeed. Maybe he’ll turn me into a spy and send me back here to bring the Pack down from the inside...

He purposely thumped his head against the wall. Stop that. Think about the present, what you can change, not what you can’t. The future will come soon enough.

My father will come soon enough.

And it’s only going to be me he hurts. No one else.

xXxXx

It was a long, miserable day. Everyone’s pendants were warm verging on hot, and no one could seem to summon up enough energy to bespell them quiescent again.

The Auror Office gave Sirius two days’ compassionate leave. Sirius said he would rather have been working.

An owl arrived from Hogwarts with the cubs’ letters. Hermione seemed very happy to see hers, but then, she was always happy to see reminders that the school year would soon begin.

Charlie took Tonks back to the Burrow with him in mid-morning. Ted Tonks was under the care of some friends from work. Both father and daughter seemed all right where they were, as much as anyone who had just lost a wife or a mother could be all right, and no one had the heart to take them back to the house where Andromeda had died. They stayed where they were.

Lunchtime arrived. No one really wanted to eat, but everyone forced something down. Then they went back to their solitary pursuits — the cubs finishing summer homework, Aletha studying in fierce earnest for the tests she would soon take to qualify as a third-year Healer student, Sirius, in his writing room, pounding out his feelings on his old typewriter, and Remus and Danger doing last-minute preparations. Their expected package from Fred and George Weasley had arrived a few days before.

"It almost seems wrong to be getting ready for fun, when someone we know is dead," Danger said quietly, tapping the edges of a stack of parchment to neaten it.

"Andy loved having fun," said Remus, though his eyes were suspiciously bright. "She wouldn’t want us to give it up because of her."

Danger sniffled. Are you sure?

Remus blinked hard. No.

They held each other and cried together.

The cubs drifted out to play with their friends after a while, or rather, Harry and Hermione drifted out. Meghan had cried herself to sleep in the girls’ bedroom, and Draco was holed up in the boys’. Even their play was subdued, quiet and without much fun to it.

Dinner was almost as cheerless as lunch. The usual jokes and laughter of the Pack were completely gone. They ate in silence, cleaned up in silence, and returned to their own places.

All except one.

xXxXx

"Moony?"

Remus turned. "Hello, Kitten," he said.

Hermione crossed the room and sat down on a footstool near Remus’ chair. "I have something I need to ask you," she said. "About school."

"Go ahead."

Hermione withdrew a letter from her pocket. "I want to take an extra class," she said. "But there won’t be enough time for it, unless I do something unusual."

"Unusual, like what? Private lessons?"

"No." Hermione handed him the letter. "I asked Professor McGonagall about it at the end of last term, and she’s been writing to the Ministry about it ever since. She would have had an answer before now, but everything’s been so disturbed."

Remus squinted at the letter in the fading light from the window, then drew his wand and turned the lights on. "Let’s see here. ‘Exceptional student... value of hard work... extraordinary measures...’"

He read through a sentence, stopped, and went back to the beginning.

That cannot say what I think it said.

The second reading did not change the meaning.

Remus looked at Hermione in amazement. "You want to use a Time-Turner? To attend an extra class?"

"It’s the only way I could — and I’d only use it for class, I’d be as careful as anything, I wouldn’t tell anyone about it..."

"You’d meet yourself coming and going, you’d wear yourself down to nothing, and there are no secrets in this house. No."

"No?"

"No. You are not going to use a Time-Turner. You can read the books for Muggle Studies, you can even have some private lessons with the adjunct professor, but I will not allow you to meddle with time for something as silly as wanting to take an extra class. You have enough on your plate as it is. No."

Hermione stared at him. "But—"

"No buts. The answer is no."

"You’re being completely unfair! You won’t even listen to me!"

"I have listened to you. You have no idea the dangers of playing around with time—"

"Yes, I do! I know the laws! I have to be back where I left from by the time I left, and I can’t let me see myself, or let anyone see me being in two places at once, and I can’t do anything to change what’s already happened — and I wouldn’t! I just want to take the class!"

"That is quite enough!" Remus was on his feet. "You will not use a Time-Turner, and that’s final!"

Hermione shot upright as well. "I hate you!" she shouted. "I hate you, I hate you! I wish we’d never met you! I wish I’d never changed my name! I hate you!"

She turned and ran out of the room. Remus watched her go.

That’s one thing we never thought of when we founded the Pack. Three children the same age in one house. Which means, three teenagers.

What have we got ourselves into?

xXxXx

Hermione stormed upstairs, headed for the big bedroom the four cubs had shared until this summer. She had a stash of chocolate in the closet she intended to raid.

The window which led to the big tree was open. Draco was halfway out of it. A loaded backpack lay on the bed within his reach.

"Are you running away?"

"Yeah. Are you going to tell?"

Hermione scowled. They’re so fond of running people’s lives, let them figure it out for themselves. "No."

"Thank you."

"You’re welcome." Hermione pulled the closet open, knocked over a stack of boxes, and dug through piled clothing until she found what she was looking for. Bag of chocolates hugged to her chest, she crossed the hall to the bathroom and locked herself in.

The rest of this family can go eat a puffskein for all I care.

xXxXx

"Hermione?" Danger knocked on the bathroom door. "Come on, sweetheart, I know you’re in there. Don’t make me unlock the door myself, please don’t."

There was no reply.

"Danger?" Sirius came out of his and Aletha’s bedroom, which had his writing room attached to it. "Have you seen Harry?"

"No. Why?"

"I was just wondering where he was. I haven’t seen him since just after dinner."

"Nor have I."

"Here, let me try something." Sirius went into the boys’ room and came out with a shirt of Harry’s. "Induco Erum," he said, waving his wand around it.

The shirt flew out of his hands and plastered itself against the door of the linen closet. Danger jerked the door open, and Sirius leaped into place just in time to stop an unconscious Harry from falling on top of her.

"Oh my God." Danger felt quickly along Harry’s neck as Sirius lowered him to the floor. "He’s alive — I don’t think he’s hurt — but how could he have been attacked, here in the Den? Who could have done this?"

"We’ll find out." Sirius went to one knee and aimed his wand at Harry. "Ennervate."

Harry’s eyelids flickered, then came open. "Padfoot?" he said uncertainly. "Danger?"

"We’re here," said Sirius, pressing Harry’s shoulder. "We found you in the linen closet. What happened?"

"Where’s Draco?"

"We haven’t seen him for a little while," said Danger. "Why?"

"He did this," said Harry, rubbing his forehead. "He didn’t want to hurt me, he said, but he couldn’t let me stop him. So he Stunned me."

"He couldn’t let you stop him?" repeated Sirius in surprise. "Stop him doing what?"

Harry sat up and looked into the boys’ bedroom, then back at the adults. "Running away," he said. "He’s running away. Because he thinks that we won’t ever be safe with him around."

Danger had to lean against the wall for support.

Why does everything have to happen at once?

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