Facing Danger
Chapter 14: You Should Get Out More (Year 5)
By Anne B. Walsh
Chapter 14: You Should Get Out More
Wham. Wham. Wham.
Harry flung the bread dough against the table, again and again, pretending it was—not Cho Chang, no matter what she’d said he didn’t actually want to hurt her, but his feelings for her. The feelings that had led him to tell her more than he should.
Wham. Wham.
His jaw ached where he was clenching his teeth, and his hands, when they weren’t actually holding the dough, were fists. He was breathing harder than the exertion of kneading the dough would account for, and realized distantly how angry he must look.
If anyone was here to see me.
He raised the dough high and slammed it down on the table once, resoundingly.
WHAM.
The dough quivered, then resumed its form as a pale and unoffending lump, and Harry sank his fists lightly into its surface, feeling the smooth resilience against his skin.
Ready for a second rising. And in record time, too. I should get mad every time I bake.
The absurdity of the thought made him smile, then wince at the pain in his face. He pulled over a chair, sat down, and raised his hands to his jaw to rub out some of the tension in the muscles there.
What is wrong with her? All I did was tell her we’d used blood magic, and she flew off the handle—she completely overreacted—it was as if I’d said we sacrifice babies! And where the hell did she get the idea that I sleep with people in the Pack or the Pride? I know there’ve always been stories, stupid stories, because there are more of us than would usually live in one house, but anybody who got to know us would see that’s all they are, stupid stories...
He stood up, shoving the chair backwards, and went over to the counter to get the bowl he’d put the dough in for its second rising. “The Pack is a family,” he said aloud. “And the Pride are just friends. Maybe we do some strange things, but not like that. Everyone who knows us knows that much.”
A small, cold certainty was growing in his gut that he’d said something important, and that whenever he figured out what it was, he wasn’t going to like it.
Whatever. How can I fix this? Whatever went wrong here, how can I put it right? Harry plopped the dough into the bowl and draped the floured cloth over it, then set it in the sheltered corner of the counter he used for things that needed some time to rest. Have to find her, get her alone somewhere, but not act like I’m being a stalker, just find some time to talk to her alone and ask her what’s the matter...
He looked around and sighed. “And that would be a lot easier if I weren’t in hiding,” he said aloud. “Add another reason to get rid of Umbridge.”
“As if we needed any more,” said Hermione from the door.
Harry jumped. “Don’t do that.”
“I wasn’t trying to be sneaky. You were just thinking so loud you couldn’t hear me.” Hermione stepped into the kitchen. “How did it go?”
Harry shrugged.
“That doesn’t look good.”
“She’s got some funny ideas,” Harry admitted. “About me being Pack, and what that means. And about the Pride, too. And I didn’t help any—she said something about us sleeping together, and I couldn’t help thinking about den, and it made me laugh, so now she thinks I think she’s funny—but everyone knows we don’t do stupid stuff like that! Everyone who knows us knows—”
He stopped.
“Everyone who knows us,” Hermione repeated into the silence. “Everyone who took a little time to get to know us all.”
Her tone was not judging, but Harry caught a whiff of guilty satisfaction and well-worn bitterness in her scent. “Did she—she never said anything, or did anything—I mean, you’ve never—”
“She was never rude to me,” Hermione said, shaking her head. “But she was never really polite either. She just never seemed to notice that I was there, that any of us were there except you, Harry. She would answer us if we talked to her, and she would notice us if something we did affected her directly. But she didn’t try to get to know us or make friends with us at all.”
“She’s older,” Harry said, hearing how weak his voice sounded even in his own ears. “She’s a different House. She’s got her own friends.”
“I wouldn’t ask for her to be best friends with me. But if she wants to date a boy who has a close family, maybe she should try to get that family on her side.” Hermione smiled a little. “Or at least notice they exist.”
Harry looked away. “So how stupid do I look right now?” he asked harshly. “How much of a fool am I?”
“I’m not qualified to answer that question. This is only a little bit stupid, and I’ve seen you do too many really stupid things.”
“Like what?”
“Like walk through fire to confront Voldemort alone when you were eleven. Or speak Parseltongue in public when you were twelve. Or fight a Death Eater wand to wand when you were thirteen. Or—”
“All right, all right, you win!” Harry held up his hands in surrender. “You win. And I lose.” He thumped his forehead against the wall. “I really lose.”
“It...” Hermione trailed off. “You’re just going to get mad, no matter what I say, aren’t you?” she asked. “Because you’re really mad at yourself and at her, but I’m right here and available, so you’ll feel better if you can yell at me and get it all out, won’t you?”
“Maybe. I don’t know.”
“You might feel even better if you tried something else.”
“Like what?”
“Like this.”
Harry turned to see what ‘this’ was.
“Want to play tug-o’-war?” Hermione asked, slapping the thick, knotted rope in her hand against the doorframe.
“I’d bowl you over,” Harry protested. “You’re too little.”
“I never said I’d play alone. Some of the others are on their way in. And I bet I can hold you until they get here.” Hermione caught the bottom end of the rope with her free hand and pulled it taut. “So, what do you say?”
“I say...” Harry pushed away from the wall, feeling some of Wolf’s endless energy returning to him. “I say you’re on!” He transformed and bounded across the kitchen, leaping up to clamp his jaws around the center of the rope, then worrying it back and forth, trying to get it out of his sister’s hands.
“You’re a crazy wolf, aren’t you?” Hermione teased, and jerked the tug-o’-war rope up and down, making Wolf’s head nod. “You’re a silly wolf, aren’t you?” Up, down, up. “You’re going to let me win, aren’t you?” Up, down—“Oh!”
Ha-ha. Wolf pranced around the room, the rope dangling from his jaws. Got you that time.
Instinct warned him to spin and drop as the calico cat pounced.
xXxXx
Nearly an hour later, the Hogwarts Den was the site of a free-for-all, everyone-for-himself, don’t-kill-anyone-but-no-other-holds-barred fight. Wolf had just got the better of Redwing after the hawk’s third stooping attack on his tail when a snarling ball of fur hit him from the side, and he went down hard.
Surrender, Lynx growled, her teeth around his throat and her claws prickling his shoulders. You’re mine.
Wolf slumped and closed his eyes. His tail thumped once, dispiritedly. Sneak attack. No fair.
Lynx climbed off him, and Wolf heard the faint pop that meant she’d changed back to human. “Weren’t you the one lecturing everyone about sneak attacks and there not being anything fair about war earlier tonight?” she asked.
Wolf grumbled in his throat and curled up, tail over his nose.
“I know what you need,” Ginny sing-songed. “You need somebody to scratch your ears. That’s what you need.” A small, warm hand pressed against Wolf’s skull, then began to rub behind his left ear. “There, how does that feel?”
Idly, Wolf considered snapping at the hand, but he had to admit, what Ginny was doing did feel awfully good...
A conversation he’d had with Padfoot during the summer meandered back into his mind, and he shot upright with a yip.
“What?” Ginny pulled back. “Did I hurt you?”
Wolf shook his head, then changed back to human. “No, you’re fine,” Harry said. “Just...” To his annoyance, his cheeks were heating up. “I...thought of something. That’s all. But I did mean to ask you...”
“Ask me what?” Ginny shifted until she was sitting with her knees to her chest, arms resting on top.
Harry squeezed his eyes shut to get his thoughts back on line. “Ask you...” His imagination provided a vivid picture, and he felt his face heat even more. No. No. Stop that.
“Are you feeling all right?” Ginny asked, her voice sounding worried. “You’re not having a flare-up, are you?”
“No. No, I’m fine. Fine.” Catching his breath, Harry opened his eyes. “I’ve seen you with Michael Corner after DA meetings,” he said in a voice that sounded almost normal. “I was just wondering...”
“If he was curious about the Pride the way Cho was?” Ginny shook her head. “No, he’s never asked. But then, it’s not as easy to see with me, because I don’t live with anyone unusual—not that you do, but...”
“Yes, I do,” Harry interrupted her, but without the anger he thought he ought to feel. “The Pack’s not usual. We never have been.” His mind caught up with him and handed him the reason he wasn’t angry, and he smiled. “And you didn’t say normal. Which is good, because we’re not that, either.”
“Who is?” Ginny looked around the Den. “Neville never knew his parents until he was thirteen, Luna believes in Crumple-Horned Snorkacks, Ron learned to fly by falling off Gryffindor Tower... I don’t think the word ‘normal’ should be allowed in this room.”
“Move that it isn’t,” said Harry promptly.
“Second,” Ginny came back.
“Attention, everyone!” Harry called over the conversations in the Den, which promptly ceased. “We have a motion that the word ‘normal’ never be used, referred to, or otherwise referenced in this room! It has been so moved and seconded—all in favor?”
“Aye!” shouted the other six members of the Pride.
“Vote is unanimous, motion carries,” said Hermione, licking her finger and drawing a tally mark in the air.
“That’s normal,” Ron said.
Meghan swatted him on the back of the head with a pillow.
xXxXx
“Have you been feeling low-level upset from Harry today?” Aletha asked Remus and Danger at dinner.
The Lupins both nodded. “Not at a level where we must intervene, but one where it seems we’d be welcome,” Remus said. “He can’t have been caught or anything drastic of that sort, but perhaps a personal problem...”
“Who’s got a personal problem?” asked Sirius, coming through the door. “You, Moony? We’ve known that for years... it’s little and furry and really rather cute when it’s not trying to kill us...”
“Blow it out your ear,” Remus said good-naturedly. “Harry, as it happens. Haven’t you felt it?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t think it was anything we needed to get involved with. Kids get upset sometimes.”
“But our pendants have been getting smarter about that,” Aletha pointed out. “They don’t usually go off anymore unless it’s for something that we can and should deal with. Which means Harry could probably use one or two of us to go talk to him for a while.”
“If we can get in,” Danger said. “The school’s under tighter security than ever these days, what with Albus worried about Voldemort and Death Eaters, and Madam Umbridge worried about keeping ‘her’ students under control...”
Remus smirked. “I can get us in,” he said.
“How?” Aletha and Danger asked at the same time.
“Ee-ih ah?” said Sirius through a mouthful.
“Yes, exactly.” Remus nodded. “The wards won’t be a problem—we helped to build them, so they should recognize us—and I know at least two places we can start from that will get us into Hogwarts without anyone seeing us...”
xXxXx
“Where do you lot keep disappearing to?” George asked Ginny later that night, when most of the Pride had returned to the common room (Meghan had stayed behind to take advantage of her mothers’ unexpected appearance from the kitchen entrance of the Den, while Mr. Moony and Mr. Padfoot and Harry went off together for some boy talk). “We never see you anymore. And don’t tell me you’re in the library or off studying somewhere, because I know you’re not. You almost missed Quidditch practice yesterday, and you wouldn’t miss Quidditch for studying.”
“If I tell you it’s none of your business, will you leave it alone?”
“Only if you answer one question about it.”
“I don’t know if I can answer a question about it until you tell me what the question is.”
George smiled ruefully. “We should never have taught you how to argue.”
Ginny made a face at him. “I would still have learned, you know.”
“I know. Trust me, I know. So here’s the question.” George lowered his voice. “Does wherever you’re all going off to have something to do with Harry?”
Ginny nodded once, slowly.
“He’s found somewhere good to hide, then.” George pantomimed wiping his brow. “We’ve been worried.”
“You two? Worried?”
“He’s our friend too, you know,” said Fred, looking up from the book he’d been studying. “And we see him at DA, but never any other time. We didn’t know if he was just hiding in different places around the castle and moving to keep Umbridge or Filch from finding him, or if he’d actually found someplace they don’t know about...”
“Nice try,” said Ginny, grinning, “but I’m not telling.”
“Nuts.” Fred snapped his fingers. “She’s onto us, O twin of mine.”
“We’ll have to try a more subtle plan next time,” George agreed.
xXxXx
“So, girl trouble,” Remus said on the Den’s Quidditch pitch, nodding. “It happens to everyone.”
“Everyone?” Sirius wiggled his eyebrows. “I don’t seem to recall you losing your heart to anyone in school, Moony...”
“That’s because I was convinced I was cursed,” Remus retorted. “Which I may have been. There’s speculation that lycanthropy began as a truly nasty curse, rather than a disease as such... but there’s also speculation that lycanthropy developed out of a magical strain of lupus. We may never know.”
“Speaking of which, how’ve you been feeling?” Sirius asked Harry.
“Fine, just fine. I take the potions, and it doesn’t bother me, except the day I got here, and I was really upset that day...” Harry frowned. “I was upset when everything happened earlier,” he said. “But I didn’t have a flare-up. Ginny even asked if I was, and I told her no, I felt fine. And I do.” He looked up at his Pack-fathers. “Shouldn’t I be...”
Remus shook his head. “There’s no ‘should’ in matters of the heart, Harry. They are the way they are. You can learn some measure of control—and you should be practicing that, to get yourself ready for when you can emerge again and begin your Occlumency lessons with Professor Snape—”
Harry grimaced. “Do I have to? I mean, I’m blocked off two or three different ways now—I hardly ever go out of here, and I have the blood bond with you, Moony, and Voldemort might even be blocking the link himself if Professor Grumpy’s plan worked—”
“I would really rather you not call him that during the school year,” Remus said in a tone of fraying patience.
“Oh, why not?” Sirius came in on Harry’s side. “He’s not in class, is he? At least, not so old Sevvie can hear him—”
“That’s not helpful either.” Remus’ words were short and bitten off.
“Remus, what’s wrong with you?” Sirius asked, looking closely at his friend. “Danger been away and I haven’t noticed?”
“No. It’s...” Remus sighed deeply. “Albus has me working closely with Severus on certain matters of Order business, and I prefer to be able to talk to him with a straight face. And thinking of you two exchanging disrespectful nicknames for him is not helpful.”
Sirius and Harry exchanged a disbelieving look and started laughing helplessly. Remus resisted for a few moments, then joined in.
“Jokes aside, though, Harry, yes, you do have to work on Occlumency,” Remus said when they had all gotten the mirth out of their systems. “Because you won’t always be here, Voldemort might decide to investigate that bond between you at any time, and the blood protection might not always work. We don’t know how it would stand up to a concerted attack, and I would far rather you practice Occlumency and not need it than not practice it and need it.”
Harry looked at Sirius. “Why does he always have to make sense?” he said, pointing at Remus.
“It’s a bad habit from our school days he’s never been able to ditch,” Sirius said promptly. “I’ve tried everything to wean him off it, but Danger and Letha just encourage him. Sad story, very sad. Probably end with him dead by the side of the road, of excessive sense-making.”
Remus dropped his face into his hands as Harry snickered. “I think I was temporarily out of my mind the day I made friends with this man,” he said through his fingers.
“Temporarily?” Harry said.
“Don’t start.” Remus reached over and ruffled Harry’s hair. “I know all your baby stories.”
Harry pouted. “You fight dirty.”
“I’m a Marauder. It comes with the territory.”
“Padfoot,” Harry whined. “Moony’s being mean to me.”
“Who said you could be mean to my godson?” Sirius demanded.
Remus raised an eyebrow. “You did, the night we decided to share him and Hermione.”
Sirius deflated. “Oh.”
xXxXx
In the blue bedroom, Danger and Aletha rebraided Meghan’s hair, one braid at a time, while Meghan, sitting very carefully still, talked about the plans to rescue Graham.
“—and I’m going to be the sentry on the ground, the one who keeps watch and lets them know if anyone is coming. Luna will be in the air, but it always helps to have someone down below. It might take Draco and Neenie and Neville longer than we think to get inside and find Graham and wake him up and convince him to come along, so we have to make sure that no one sees us, or if they do that they don’t realize who we really are. Luna can just look like any other post owl, and they’d probably think I came out of the Forest...”
“That’s assuming you can do your transformation reliably by then, Pearl,” Aletha reminded her daughter.
“But I can! I can! Watch!” Meghan pulled away from Danger’s hands, leaving one braid half-undone and waving in the air. “Celeripes et ventosa sum,” she recited carefully, her eyes shut in concentration, “ungulis quattuor et luminibus suffuscis magnis. Niteo similis concha atra, igitur amici mei vocant me Margaritam. Cerva sum, nec periculum timeo nec lupo fugio, et veritam et astrum nimis amo.”
For an instant after her recital had finished, nothing changed. Then, all at once, where Meghan had been standing was a dark-furred yearling doe, eyes still shut tight and one patch of fur sticking straight up on the top of her head.
Danger hid a laugh behind her hand. Aletha smiled warmly. “Congratulations, Meghan,” she said as the doe opened her eyes. “Well done.”
Pearl turned her head, blinking rapidly, then closed one eye and looked at the two women with the other.
“You’ll get used to it,” Aletha told her. “Try not to think about it too much.”
“Would you like me to transform?” Danger asked. “Your mama’s form might not fit too well in here, but mine will.”
Pearl nodded a little gingerly.
“I won’t eat you, I promise.” Danger stood up and leaned forward, letting her wolf shape slide onto her. I never thought I’d be able to do that so quickly—
Of course, before I was twenty-one, I had no idea it was possible at all!
I did it, I did it, I did it! chanted the doe in front of her, prancing slightly. I really, really did it!
Yes, you really, really did, Danger agreed, moving forward to nuzzle the doe’s shoulder. Good work.
Pearl pulled back a little, then wrinkled her forehead, sidling her back end towards her mother at the same time. You don’t smell scary, she said doubtfully. Well, a little in the back of my mind, but you smell more not scary than you smell scary.
Danger retransformed so she could laugh. “That’s because you’re still human under that fur, Meghan Lily,” she said, stroking the flyaway tuft which was Meghan’s still-undone braid. “And like you said yourself in your spell, you don’t run away from wolves or from danger. Your human side knows that I’m not about to eat you.”
“Unless you’ve been making messes in the kitchen again and calling it potions,” Aletha amended, caressing Meghan’s flank. “Oh, love, you’re beautiful. Your father and Moony will be so proud of you. Shall we go show them?”
Pearl pranced again, and Danger didn’t need to be in wolf form to understand an ecstatic Yes, yes, yes!
xXxXx
“The best way to not mope over something,” Harry muttered through his teeth as he walked backwards down the hall under the Invisibility Cloak, “is to think about something else.”
Though really, I haven’t been moping much. I only think about Cho every now and then, and I feel funny when I do, like she’s missing from the place in my mind where she used to be...
Well, if she’s missing, she pulled herself out. And I have other things to think about right now.
Namely, getting the invisible net Fred and George had supplied into position.
They ought to sell a few of these to the Order. Just as long as we know how to detect them, so the Death Eaters can’t use them on us.
He pulled what looked like a set of clip-on tinted lenses for his glasses from his pocket. George had spelled them to let him see most common spells, including the ones the twins had enchanted the net with, and Harry had found that if he wore the lenses when he went ‘walking’, the ability transferred.
I wonder what else I could take with me... or what it would do, in spirit form...
Later. The net was perfectly in position. Harry started off, trailing the invisible string behind him. Just as he reached the T-junction at the end of the hall, Luna walked by in the cross-corridor, her nose in a book and one hand bumping along the stones of the wall. Harry slid the spool of string into that free hand, which closed around it and dropped to Luna’s side to hang naturally.
Perfect.
Harry watched Luna meander away, occasionally veering towards a wall but always correcting in time, the string stringing itself out behind. When she reached her destination, she would loop the string three times around it and melt it into itself. That would seal the spells laid on the net for three hours.
Depending on how many people notice, that might not be long enough, or it might be just perfect.
So it’s time for step two.
Making sure enough people notice.
xXxXx
Dolores Jane Umbridge flounced towards her office, her temper seriously out of kilter.
No matter how many detentions I give out, no matter how many punishments I assign—and I cannot use my favorite one, with Dumbledore watching over me like the meddling fool he is—the students seem to have some secret I do not share. Some rallying cry, some central locus that binds them all together. If I knew what it was, I could learn about it, learn how I can replace it, but without that knowledge I am powerless...
Even if she had been looking, she wouldn’t have seen the net. It was invisible, after all.
Though she certainly felt it when she stepped onto it.
What is—
The fibers leapt up and twisted around her. She opened her mouth to scream—
But all that came out was an animal-like bellow.
What has happened to me?
Her feet were moving without her consent. She tried to reach for her wand, to call for a house-elf, for Filch, for anybody, but the net pinned her arms to her sides, and her legs seemed to be completely out of her control.
Not completely, she discovered. If she struggled a little, she could fight the compulsion to walk. But as she did, the net twisted itself tighter around her. Not tight enough to cut off her breathing, but tight enough to hurt, to make her squeal with pain. Or rather, bellow.
That is not a natural sound. Or not a natural human sound. It amuses some of the students, I see, to cause me to make sounds as though I were an animal...
xXxXx
“The only real drawback to this,” Fred said mournfully, “is that it’s illegal.”
“Bloody hard to make, too,” George added. “We gave you our only really good prototype, Ronniekins. I hope you didn’t waste it.”
The portrait hole opened, and Katie Bell tumbled in. “Everyone get outside, quick!” she squealed. “Professor Umbridge is on the Astronomy Tower and she can’t get down and she’s mooing!”
Ron looked back at the twins as all of Gryffindor House stampeded for the portrait hole. “Good enough?” he said.
The twins frowned at each other. “For now,” said Fred finally. “I expect more from you as time goes by, though.”
George reached out and patted Ron’s shoulder. “Tha’ll do, Ron,” he said in a ridiculously thick accent. “Tha’ll do.”
Ron leveled a look at George that promised revenge in the fullest.
xXxXx
“Mooooooooo,” rang out in desperate tones over Hogwarts’ lawns. “Mooooooooo!”
“I wonder what she’s trying to say?” said a light voice next to Draco. He turned to see a red-haired girl he recognized vaguely from DA. “Amanda Smythe,” she said, sticking out her hand. “And you’re Draco Black.”
“That’s me.” Draco shook her hand and looked up at Umbridge. “Maybe she’s calling for help. Or for Filch—he seems to do everything for her.”
“Or maybe she’s trying to say, ‘Detention for everyone for the rest of your lives!’” Amanda giggled. “I wish I knew who did this to her. I think I’d kiss them.”
“Would you kiss me if I said I knew about it?” Draco said impulsively.
“Maaaaaybe.” Amanda looked him up and down. “Make that yes. I didn’t realize you were quite so... so...”
Draco struck a pose. “Manly?”
Amanda grinned. “That’ll do. You just always seem to fade into the background at meetings. Is it because Harry Potter is there?”
“It could be.” Draco considered this. “It probably is. He’s almost always been the most important of us, the one people notice more.”
“Do you resent him for that?” Amanda was studying him intently. “My dad’s brother, my uncle I guess except we never see him, he was always the golden boy, and I think Dad resents that just a little, even now after all this time.”
Draco shrugged. “We don’t do a lot of ‘I’m more important than you are’ at home, unless we’re fighting over the last bun or something, and even then it’s tacky. I guess we get enough of that when we can’t avoid it. When we’re at home, it’s more like, ‘Phew, glad that’s over, now gimme that last bun, I’m five days older than you so I’m in charge’...”
Amanda laughed with him. “But he’s such a leader,” she said. “I can feel it from him. He was born to be that way. Even if he’d grown up in a place that hated him, he’d be a leader. But his family, your family, they made it stronger. And now...” She looked up at Umbridge, leaning over the edge of the tower and mooing down at the cheering crowd of students. “Now he can show stupid people up for the fools they are, and maybe bring Voldemort out in the open and destroy him. And nothing is more important than that.”
Draco blinked at the burning passion in her voice. “I’m glad you’re on our side.”
“I wouldn’t be anywhere else in a million years.” Amanda’s eyes were narrow as she stared at Hogwarts. “The House of Slytherin has tried to destroy my family for centuries. I want a piece of them. And if it just so happens that getting that piece will help end a brutal and completely pointless race war, and save thousands of lives...” She turned back to Draco and smiled impishly, all trace of fury gone from her face. “What’s not to like?”
Draco nodded. “Definitely glad you’re on our side.”
“Thanks.” Amanda shivered. “Merlin’s socks, I should have brought my cloak, I didn’t realize it would be so windy out here...”
“Here, share mine,” Draco said, pulling it halfway off his shoulder and holding it out.
“Thanks.” Amanda huddled into the curve of his arm and sighed in satisfaction. “Much better.”
No, Draco told himself sternly. You’re taken. You’ve been in love since you were eight. You don’t have too much longer, and you are not going to give Luna another reason to cry over that gravestone.
But the combination of the warmth against his side and the smell of lavender wafting from the red hair was starting to make him a little dizzy.
And I thought Harry had girl trouble...
xXxXx
I feel like we should have music playing, Neenie said through the mental link Meghan’s blue jewel had established as she loped down the path towards Hogwarts’ gates. The intrepid rescuers departing.
Do you really want music? Snow Fox, the brown of his coat darkened with the same spell that hid Neenie’s white and orange patches, twitched his nose in the air to catch the wind. Music would give us away.
Music like in a movie. Where nobody can hear it and be distracted by it, but where it adds to the tension.
I don’t know about you, said Captain from his carry-sling on Pearl’s harness, but I don’t think I need any more tension right this second.
True, Neenie conceded.
Starwing drifted above them, her feathers a shadowy gray for this one night. We will all do well, she said surely. Because we have to.
People have messed up things before that they ‘had to’ do, said Harry, who was walking—in both senses of the word—beside the half-Pride of Animagi. If Neenie didn’t think too hard about it, she could see a vague glowing shape in the air that might be Harry...
Or I might be making it up.
That’s cheerful, said Ron with a mental snort. Let’s try and think positive about this, all right? Mum would have a litter of knittens if I ran out there to try to save you, and you know I’ll run out there and try to save you if you get in trouble.
Harry chuckled. All right. Just for you, Ron, we won’t get in any trouble.
You can’t get in trouble anyway, Harry, Ginny chimed in. No one will even know you’re there.
The yellow bedroom at the Den as Neenie had last seen it drifted into her mind’s eye. Ginny was curled up in a comfortable chair beside the bed where Harry’s body lay, her fine gold chain looped around his neck as well as her own, while Ron sat at his modeling table with the house in front of him, waiting for the Pride’s descriptions to lay out his modified chess figurines, black for Death Eaters, white for Pride members...
—if any of them are like Luna, Harry was saying as Neenie returned her attention to the conversation. For that matter, I haven’t gone anywhere near Voldemort like this. And I’m not going to. What if he could grab me and keep me out of my body, or split me off from it and turn me into a ghost? I’m not that stupid.
How stupid are you? asked a small chorus of voices.
Stupid enough to give you lot a straight line, Harry answered promptly.
Everyone laughed, and Neenie felt her spirits lift slightly.
We will do this. We will. We have everything we need, and we know everything we can. We can fight, we can sneak, and we will not let Graham Pritchard die just because His High Darkness wants Graham’s father to fight for him.
She bared her teeth and hissed. Look out, Death Eaters. Here comes the Pride.
xXxXx
Graham Pritchard awoke in the darkness to someone shaking his shoulder and a hand over his mouth. For one instant, he panicked. They’re here to kill me—
No, why would they wake me up?
Because they like to see people scared—
“Meghan sent me,” said a low voice in his ear.
The panic vanished, and he realized he knew the voice. “Longbottom?”
“Yeah.”
“Who else?” He could hear someone else breathing in the room, maybe two people.
“Her sister and brother. She’s outside. Long story. Listen, we need you to drink this.” The cool glass shape of a flask touched his fingers. “You’ll feel strange, then you’ll fall asleep, and when you wake up we’ll have you out of here.”
“Why—”
“No time. It’s the only way.”
Graham almost put the flask to his lips, then stopped. “Is it going to hurt?”
“No more than my coming over there and smacking you if you don’t get a move on!” snapped Hermione Granger-Lupin’s voice from a few feet away.
“Way to be inspirational, Neenie,” said Draco Black under his breath.
“I’m not trying to be inspirational, I’m trying to be scary!”
Graham smiled for the first time in a month and a half. I wasn’t imagining it. I didn’t make it up. They came after me. I’m going home.
Lifting the flask to his mouth, he drank off the potion—or I guess that’s what it is—without hesitation.
A moment later, he knew why they hadn’t explained.
xXxXx
The baby on the bed drew breath to howl in frustration—
And Hermione slid the nipple of the baby bottle deftly between his parted lips.
Automatically, baby-Graham’s mouth closed around the rubber nipple, and he sucked. His eyes opened wider at the taste, and he continued sucking for about five seconds before suddenly sighing and going limp with the finality that only infants could manage.
Hope he’s not too attached to these clothes, Draco remarked, pulling out the soft cloth they’d brought along to wrap up the baby.
I think he’ll want to get rid of anything that reminds him of this place, said Harry. But we should take them with us. Make it seem like he just vanished.
Hermione grinned. And I have one final touch.
What? asked Neville, looking up from the sleeping baby he was now cradling.
Make the bed. Hermione took the cloth from Draco and started wrapping Graham in it. I’d do it, but my hands are full.
Harry laughed. And I don’t have hands. At least, not corporeal ones.
Slave-driver, Draco grumbled, stepping up to the bed and beginning to pull the sheets straight. So this way, it looks like he got away before he ever went to bed?
Right. And if any of them saw him in bed—you mentioned, Harry, that there was a woman taking care of him—they’ll start thinking maybe they didn’t see it, maybe it was a trick... Hermione tucked in the loose end of cloth and nodded to Neville.
Captain the demiguise held up his arms. One invisible monkey, ready to carry baby, he said. Ron, how are we doing?
No guards anywhere near you, Ron’s voice answered. Most of them are downstairs talking and drinking. One’s at the back window, but he’s not really watching for anything. He missed you coming in completely.
He hasn’t seen Pearl, Ginny added, and she’s out in plain view.
She’s what? Everyone winced at the force of Captain’s mental shout. Pearl, hide, for Merlin’s sake—!
But then I won’t be able to see when you come out! Pearl protested. I won’t be able to start opening the wards for you!
You won’t be able to do anything if you get caught!
I won’t get caught! The thump of a hoof being stamped on pavement rang through the link. You always think I’ll get caught, or get in trouble, or get everyone else in trouble, and I won’t, I never do—
Um, everyone? Harry broke in. The guard at the back just heard something, or at least he’s acting like he did...
Author Notes:
Yes, I’m evil. You knew that. Next update will not take another month to write, so I’m not that evil, but I’m still evil. Let me know if it was worth the wait.
Meghan's spell: I am swift-footed as the wind, with four hooves and great brown eyes. I shine like a black pearl, therefore my friends call me Pearl. I am a deer, but I neither fear danger nor run from the wolf, and I love the truth and the star very much.