Facing Danger
Chapter 4: Ideas and Escapes (Year 5)
By Anne B. Walsh
Chapter 4: Ideas and Escapes
Elladora Gamp crept quietly along the corridor, her nerves keyed high. Any minute, she’d see them... they had to come this way if they were leaving the house, unless they were going to be melodramatic and go out a window...
"You’re sure you have everything?" a man’s voice asked. "I doubt they’ll let you come back."
Sirius. Elladora bit down on her hiss. He’ll pay, she promised herself. He’ll pay for deceiving me.
"I don’t have much that I care about," a woman answered. "And it’s all with me. I’ll go to Gringotts in the morning and withdraw my part of the family money — they might be able to bar me from that, if they think of it in time, but I hope to get to it before they even know I’m gone."
Elladora’s lip curled. Not likely now, Corona. The goblins will have the order from the family tonight, and they don’t deny good customers’ requests, especially not old ones like ourselves...
"If need be, we can help you out for a month or two, until you find work," Sirius promised. His voice was getting closer. "And if you really want to help with the war, there’s a small stipend for that, and room and board where we’re going. We have someone taking advantage of that already, a liaison to some of the more historically Dark-oriented creatures..."
Elladora raised her wand high as her traitorous sister and the seemingly-returned prodigal rounded the corner. Lumos! she thought viciously, and searing white light flooded the corridor. Both the others cried out, stumbling back, throwing up hands to protect themselves. Elladora stood as she was, knowing she must appear the very spirit of vengeance to them.
"So," she said venomously. "To me, you have a Muggle wife, a daughter, a family. But to her, promises of help, money, a home..."
"Elladora, this isn’t what it looks like," Sirius said, raising his head and squinting against her wandlight. "Could you turn that down? It’s very bright."
"Turn down the light, is that what you want?" Elladora lowered her wand to shine the light directly into Sirius’ face. He winced and shaded his eyes. "You want to run away to the shadows, to hide on the outskirts, the way you have the entire time you’ve been here. I’ve watched you. Even before we were introduced, I watched you. You never put yourself forward, never tried to gain favor or place..." She heard the note of questioning, of surprise and wonder, in her voice, and hardened it. "Why did you come back, Sirius Black? Why did you come back, truly?"
A hand shot out and grasped her wrist, bending it downwards without hurting her. "I came back to find out what purebloods are thinking," Sirius said, meeting her eyes. "I came back to see what the old world is like. And it hasn’t changed a bit since I left twenty years ago."
"An unchanging bastion of hope," Elladora countered. "Stability in a fast-changing world."
"Absolutely no change over twenty years? That’s not stability, that’s stagnation. This place is dying, Elladora. If you have any intelligence at all, you’ll get out now, while you still can. You’re young, you’re smart, you’re strong. You can work, support yourself. I could help you, if you wanted it. The way I’m helping Corona..."
Elladora turned to glare at her sister. "Is he too much man for you?" she hissed. "Do you need me to help you tame him?"
"It’s not like that," Sirius said with the sound of rapidly thinning patience in his voice. "I am married, and I am not planning to change that any time soon. Corona is going with me as a friend, nothing more. If you can accept that, Elladora, you could come too. We always need more hands in what we’re doing."
"And what are you doing?" Elladora asked sneeringly. "Pleasuring yourself?"
"Fighting," Corona said, speaking for the first time. She set down her bag, one of the matching set Grandmother had bought for the sisters at the beginning of the season, and looked into Elladora’s eyes. "Fighting He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, Elladora. Or do you not remember why Grandmother has had our raising since we were children? I was only five, and even I recall how it happened. You were ten, nearly old enough for schooling. You would know it better than I."
"You lie," Elladora snapped. "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is long dead, he has nothing to do with this. As he had nothing to do with our parents’ deaths. It was accident, Corona, an accident in the mountains, it could have happened to anyone..."
"To a fully trained wizard and witch?" Corona countered. "Who were found with looks of fear on their faces, as though they had seen their fate approaching, and been unable to do anything about it? And not buried under avalanching snow, but in shallow graves, dug by human hands. Could that have been accident?"
"Enough!" Elladora twisted herself free from Sirius’ grasp. "Go your ways, if that is what you want, but stop telling these ridiculous lies!"
"Who is the liar here, Elladora?" Corona asked softly. "I remember the truth. You try to deceive even yourself. Who lies?"
"Go!" Elladora shrieked, and pushed blindly between them. But not so blindly that she could not see the expressions on their faces.
They pity me. The outcasts, the fugitives, they who have chosen to leave civilization and become barbaric — they pity me!
She could not decide if their pity added more to her anger or to her feeling that the world had come adrift around her feet, and nothing would ever be the same again.
xXxXx
"None so blind as those who will not see," Sirius murmured.
"You have a way with words," Corona said admiringly.
Sirius snickered briefly. "You could say that. We’d better hurry. I don’t know if she’s still coherent enough to talk to anyone, but if she is, they might try to stop us leaving. Not that I think they could stop us, in the long run, but we’d certainly be delayed, and with Hagrid in trouble, I don’t want to delay any more than I have to."
"Nor I." Corona lifted her bag again and followed Sirius down the hall. She had always liked Hagrid, with his cheerful openness, so different from what she was used to at home, and his great-hearted love for anything that crawled or swam or flew. Once or twice, he’d shown her a path that would take her through the fringes of the Forbidden Forest, where she could walk without undue danger and see some of the creatures that lived within the Forest’s bounds.
I wonder... and Sirius would know, if anyone would...
"You taught at Hogwarts for a year," she said, speeding up a little to keep up with Sirius’ longer legs. "And you know the Headmaster."
"Yes, I do."
"I’ve always wondered..." Corona tried to find a tactful way to say it, and couldn’t. "Do werewolves really live in the Forest there? I mean, I know there are dangerous creatures, but everyone always said specifically werewolves, and I just never knew..."
To her relief, Sirius chuckled. "No, I don’t think any werewolves live at Hogwarts. Not anymore, at any rate. There used to be one there, but he had to leave."
"Your friend," Corona recalled aloud, thinking of the stories in the Daily Prophet, and her grandmother’s loud declamations that such a thing never would have happened in her day. "And I’ll... I mean, will I... will we..."
Sirius slowed down to turn and look at her. "Are you trying to ask if you’ll meet him?"
Corona nodded, hoping the relative darkness in the hall concealed her blush.
"You’d have a hard time not meeting him," Sirius said neutrally. "He and I go back a very long way. And I can promise that he won’t bite you, or snarl at you, or anything else you might be thinking of. In fact, of the two of us, he’s the one our friends consider more socially presentable."
"Then he must be highly presentable indeed," Corona said, earning a laugh from Sirius. "I will be glad to meet him."
I will be glad to meet anyone whom you like.
Had she still been eighteen, Corona knew, she might have mistaken the feelings blossoming within her for true love, but she had been twenty-one since May, and she knew a crush when she felt it.
He is married, and happily so, if I may judge by the light in his eyes when he mentions his wife. He obviously dotes on his daughter, and on the other children he has helped to raise. And he has good friends, with whom he shares his life. I can hope to become one of those, and nothing more.
But oh, how it hurt to end the sweet dream of the tall, dark, romantic man who would come into her life, sweep her off her feet, and declare her his true love everlasting...
xXxXx
Sirius caught his breath after Apparating, tapped Corona’s knuckles to tell her she could let go, and had a look around. Grimmauld Place looked just as dreary and unpleasant now as it had twenty years ago, and perhaps a bit more run-down.
He summoned up Albus’ voice from his memory. The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix...
"Ahh," he breathed in satisfaction as the house revealed itself, shouldering into place between numbers eleven and thirteen. Ugly as ever... but Letha’s in there, and Pearl, and everyone else... except Harry, but he’ll be here soon...
"What is it?" Corona was still clinging to his arm, though no longer as hard as she’d needed to for the Side-Along. "Where are we?"
"I’m afraid I can’t tell you. Security."
"Don’t you trust me?"
"It’s not trust, it’s magic. I can’t say the name. But I can take you in, on two conditions. First, I need your wand. You’ll get it back, it’s just because Moody would have my hide if I let you come into Headquarters armed."
Corona produced her slender maple wand from within her robes and handed it over. "I doubt I’ll need to defend myself from any terrible monsters in the next three minutes," she said with a smile. "Especially considering my sister didn’t choose to come along."
Sirius chuckled. "True. Now, to get by the spells, you can’t see or know where we’re going. So I need you to close your eyes and let me guide you. I’ll muddle you about a bit, but we’ll get there."
Corona tilted her head back and squeezed her eyes shut, as though expecting to be doused with cold water. Suppressing a laugh, Sirius led her around in a few circles, then across the street and up the walk to the grimy, black-painted door.
He debated knocking, but decided against it. Mum’s portrait’s in the front hall, and she’ll have got worse, not better, for a few years being alone. Instead, he drew his wand and rapped it against the door, thinking carefully of undoing the locks and bolts he knew were on the other side, concentrating on his right to do so.
Seems like you always come back to where you started, no matter how hard you try to get away...
Locks turned, bolts slid back, and the door opened with a tiny creak of hinges. Corona flinched but didn’t open her eyes. Sirius drew her quickly inside and shut the door behind them. The hall, dimly lit by gaslights, looked no different than it had eight years ago, or twenty for that matter.
"You can look now," he murmured, setting down his own bag. "We’re here."
"Sirius!" cried a voice from the top of the stairs, and Danger hurtled down, nearly tripping over the loose carpet on the third step but recovering enough balance to fling herself at him. "What are you doing here, you shouldn’t have come, I’ve never been so glad to see you, did your pendants go off?"
Sirius caught Danger in mid-leap and spun her around to take a little momentum off her so they didn’t go flying into the door. "In opposite order, yes, good to see you too, I don’t care, and you already know." He set her on her feet again without letting go. "How have you been?"
"Working hard," Danger said, kissing him on the cheek. "But it’s been worth it — Hogwarts’ wards are stronger than ever, and we were even able to weave a little mind protection in, we hope — speaking of which, Remus has something he wants to ask you about, but not here, not now — wait, who’s this?" She had obviously just noticed Corona.
Sirius had to repress another laugh as he turned to look at Corona. She was staring at Danger, obviously trying to equate Sirius’ stories about Aletha with the chattering, fast-moving, pale-skinned woman in Sirius’ arms. "Corona Gamp, meet Gertrude Granger-Lupin, almost always called Danger," he said, letting Danger go. "Danger, this is Corona, a new friend of mine. She wants to help us."
"Wonderful." Danger held out her hand to Corona, who took it after only a moment’s hesitation. "We can use all the help we can get. I’ll get you settled in just a moment, I’m sorry to make you wait, but we have a pair of situations developing—"
"Sirius told me something’s the matter with Hagrid," Corona volunteered. "Is that one of them?"
Danger nodded. "And it’s created the other one," she said. "Because people are having to go over to the Continent to look for Hagrid and... his partner, and help them get out of whatever they’ve got into, we’re short on people for here, for a certain retrieval..." A tweak of her pendant chain told Sirius who she meant. "And we did promise it would be tonight."
"Is that a hint?"
"Well, you’re nearly as good as an army all by yourself, Sirius — and the list of who was going was getting to small army size, let me tell you. It was ridiculous. But Hagrid’s in trouble now, and..." Danger hesitated. Is she safe? her hands asked, indicating Corona.
"And Harry’s not," finished Sirius, answering Danger’s question obliquely. "No physical trouble, that is. I’m sure he’s blistering mad that we haven’t shown up yet. Is there anyone free to go with me, though? I don’t want to risk it completely alone."
So grown-up of you, Danger signed, her eyes twinkling almost like Albus’, and with some of his color in them as well —
No, that’s Moony I’m seeing. Sirius gave a little wave. Hi, Moony.
"Molly Weasley’s free, since I’m staying here," Danger answered aloud, her eyes cycling back to mostly brown. "She’s on her way up. And Moody says he’d be more of a liability on the Continent, since he can’t move fast with that leg. So that’s two."
"Molly and Mad-Eye and me." Sirius grinned. "Sounds like a song."
"Gilbert and Sullivan, maybe. I’ll get your broom, it’s upstairs..."
Corona gasped as a shaggy tan wolf bounded up the stairs and vanished into the gloom.
"She’s an Animagus, you’ll get used to it," Sirius said nonchalantly. "How do you like my sister?"
"Your what? But you don’t — you didn’t—"
"No, not by blood. Not even half." Sirius considered the time period. "Well, I suppose it’s possible, but not unless there’s something she doesn’t know. And I sincerely doubt it. So no, we’re not actually related, but fourteen-odd years of living in the same house have to count for something."
Corona stared at him. "I thought I knew what I was getting into," she said faintly.
"Don’t worry. This happens a lot to people when they first meet us." Sirius resisted the urge to chuckle. "Be grateful it was just Danger. All of us together can be a bit overwhelming."
"A bit," Corona said, moving to the banister to lean on it. "Just a bit."
"Sirius!" called Molly Weasley, emerging from the basement stairs. "How are you — it’s good to see you again — and who’s this?"
Sirius introduced Corona again, and to Mad-Eye Moody as he followed Molly upstairs. Both of the Order members were dressed for flying, and Moody had two brooms under his arm. Danger descended the stairs again, Sirius’ Nimbus over her shoulder. "I haven’t told the Pride yet," she said, handing the broom over the banister. "I didn’t want to deal with the stampede, and this way they can go crazy over you and Harry at the same time when you get back. Watch out for low-flying planes."
"Oh, we’ll take care of him," Molly promised as she accepted her broom from Moody. "Don’t worry about a thing."
"I never do. I worry about several things at once."
Moody snorted. "There are days I envy you and Lupin, Black," he said. "And then there are days I don’t."
Danger pretended she hadn’t heard this.
"Before I leave, I have to ask," Sirius said, pointing to the curtains which he had thought masked his mother’s portrait. "What happened to her?"
Danger grinned. "She insulted me and Aletha," she said blithely. "Remus took offense."
Sirius pulled the curtains back and laughed aloud — they covered nothing but an enormous scorch mark on the wall.
"We’ll get that off eventually as well," Molly said. "Or the house-elves will. Winky is here now, since the children are, and Dobby’s coming from Hogwarts tomorrow... and why we’re standing here chattering, when Harry’s still with his awful relatives, I have no idea."
"You heard the boss," Moody grunted, following Molly toward the door. "Let’s move."
"Back in a while," Sirius said, waving at Danger and Corona. Be nice to her, he signed to Danger. She’s scared.
Danger waved back, tossing the finger-sign for Understood into the middle of it. "See you when we see you," she said casually. "Have a nice time."
Sirius shut the door behind himself and sighed. "In and out, up and down, here and there," he said reflectively.
"Welcome to real life," Molly said. "We’ll need coordinates for Apparating, Alastor..."
xXxXx
Figures. I spend all day working, exercising, packing, staying out of Dudley’s way, waiting for sunset, and nothing. Nobody. Not even an owl.
Harry scowled at his window, reflecting his face clearly from the darkness beyond. It’s probably something to do with Hagrid, I hope he can get out of whatever it is... if they had to put off getting me because of that, it’s... no, it’s not all right, but I could live with it... but couldn’t they at least have told me?
The house was empty of everyone except him and Hedwig. The Dursleys had left as the sun was setting, Aunt Petunia nodding a brusque goodbye to Harry, Uncle Vernon and Dudley not bothering even with that much.
I think not liking me is the only thing they agree on.
Harry lay down on his bed and let his mind drift back over the month. Dudley stays out of his dad’s way a lot. When he wants something, he asks his mum, and she almost always gives it him. He never mentions magic, or Hogwarts, or anything unusual. And he doesn’t have any magical banners or posters on his walls, and his trunk and his schoolbooks are under his bed where nobody will see them...
It’s almost like he’s ashamed of being magic. Absently, Harry chewed on his lip. Or — he is a Slytherin, after all — like he wants to make someone think he’s ashamed of being magic. Someone like his parents. They were less than thrilled when their perfect little Muggle turned out abnormal, I know.
But he seems to like it well enough at school. He’s even in with the "purebloods good, Mudbloods bad" crowd. Wonder how he puts the two together?
A thump from the kitchen brought him upright immediately. Someone’s here. He flipped the light off, drew his wand, and eased the door open, twitching his nose. More than one person, and none of them Dursleys. All familiar scents, though...
"Anybody home?" called a man’s voice.
Harry took a firmer grip on his wand. "Who’s asking?" he called warily.
"Don’t you... oh. I came home early because of Hagrid, Harry. I’m for real."
"Prove it," said Harry promptly.
A gravelly chuckle. "Good boy, Potter," said Moody’s voice.
"Really, Alastor, must you be so suspicious?" asked Mrs. Weasley testily.
"Ah-ha," Padfoot said, apparently having thought of something. "The first thing Molly did when she found out who I really was, Harry. You remember?"
"No, not at all," Harry retorted. "It only traumatized me for life."
Padfoot laughed. "Thought so. You walked in with my DictaQuill, and she was kissing me."
"And then she slapped you across the face," Harry finished, listening to Mrs. Weasley chuckle as she remembered. "And you said something like ‘That’s more like it.’"
"Yes, I did. Convinced now?"
Harry dashed down the stairs, swung round the end of the banister, and demonstrated how convinced he was.
"Hi Mrs. Weasley, hi Professor Moody," he said breathlessly when Padfoot let him go.
"Good instincts, Potter," Moody said in lieu of a greeting. "Or should I say, good training." He shot an approving look at Padfoot.
"Oh, Harry, you’ve grown," Mrs. Weasley said, giving him a quick hug of her own. "I suppose I should have expected that, the other boys are all shooting up, Ron’s worse than ever..."
"Great Merlin, you have," said Padfoot, looking him over. "You’re taller than Danger now."
"I am?"
"I just hugged her a minute ago, and I don’t think she’s shrunk. You’re definitely taller."
Harry’s mind detoured for a second on the possibilities this opened up before returning to the main event of the night. "Time to go?" he said.
"Yes, time to go," Padfoot agreed, looking around at the Dursleys’ super-clean hall and wrinkling his nose. "Let’s get your trunk, and Hedwig."
xXxXx
Ron waved his wand again to bring another load of chipped paint off the walls. Paint-stripping wasn’t his favorite way to spend an evening, but it beat sitting around doing nothing, which was the other option.
And at least this way I don’t have loads of time to be worried about Hagrid.
This particular room was on the second floor, next to the boys’ bedroom, and had been assigned to the entire Pride, to clean and refurbish as they pleased in their spare time. Mum had hinted darkly that there wouldn’t be much of this, as the whole house was in terrible condition.
But that’s what house-elves are for. Winky was almost crying with joy when she saw all there is to do here. Of course, then she met Kreacher, and she was just crying...
The Blacks’ old house-elf had recognized Winky as the Crouches’ house-elf — how, Ron didn’t want to know — and had asked her rudely why she’d been dismissed and what she was doing bound to unnatural blood traitors like the Weasleys. Meghan had stepped in and told Kreacher to shut up, and Kreacher had had to obey, but the damage was done. Winky had retreated into the basket in which she’d made the journey from the Den and was refusing to come out, and none of the Weasleys were hard-hearted enough to order her.
Note to self: don’t get on Meghan’s bad side. "Now get in the basement and stay there, Kreacher, and be polite or don’t say anything at all!" Ron grinned to himself. Little sod might never talk again.
He swept his paint chips into a pile, then levitated them into the rubbish bin in the center of the room. Hermione turned to do the same, and their eyes met over the masks they were wearing for the dust. She pulled hers down and smiled at him, before the expression was replaced by the same worry Ron could feel working inside his head. He nodded to her in acknowledgement and returned to his work.
What could get Hagrid into this much trouble? That was the question no one had been able to answer satisfactorily. Hagrid and Madame Maxime both, no one’s bothering to deny they’re together. They’re big enough to deal with most things even without magic, and Hagrid may not be as good with his wand as he could be, but Madame Maxime’s the bloody headmistress of Beauxbatons — I’ll eat every speck of paint off these walls if she’s no good.
But they were looking for giants. That was the point Hermione’d had confirmed at the Order meeting, the suspicion the Pride had been harboring since the end of last year. Hagrid and Madame Maxime, both half-giant themselves, had been sent to try to convince the giants either to fight on the side of the Light or to stay neutral.
Giants are so big, some spells just don’t work, because there’s so much of them. And they’re resistant to others, like Stunners and Memory Charms. Makes them great to have on your side, but I wouldn’t want to fight one. Unless the same trick works on them as on trolls... He snickered.
And one other thing no one wants to say. They might be getting chased, or they might have been caught, by Death Eaters. Because as much as we don’t want You-Know...
Ron stopped, looking over his shoulder at Hermione, systematically stripping her section of wall. He could almost hear her voice: "Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself."
He grumbled under his breath. Oh, all right. Voldemort. As much as we don’t want Voldemort to have the giants, he wants them just that much.
Ron flicked his wand at the wall again, and a cascade of paint showered off it, rattling onto the floor and nearly coating him. There, I thought it, he thought sarcastically toward Hermione, brushing off his shoulder. Happy now?
As if she’d heard him, she turned to look at his section of the room. He could see her eyes dancing above her mask, and she threw him a thumbs up.
Suddenly a bit more cheerful, he returned it. You too, he signed with his left hand. Looks good.
Thanks, she signed back, one hand tapping her chin.
Smiling under his mask, Ron returned to work. Hagrid will be fine, he told himself. It’s not as if he hasn’t been in trouble before. What about the time he almost got busted for having Norbert in his house? But he got away with that, with a little help from us and the Pack’s parents...
He stopped, one hand on the wall. He’d said, or thought, something important in there, but he couldn’t figure out where.
All right, go back over it and don’t panic, Ron. Keep working. It might come back to you.
He stepped back to get the strip of paint next to the ceiling. I was thinking about Mr. Moony and Mrs. Danger, and Mrs. Letha and Mr. Padfoot... no, it’s not them. Something before that. The night we took Norbert out of Hagrid’s house, maybe?
The tingle of an idea was stronger. Norbert. Little Baby Norbert, except he isn’t such a baby anymore. And Charlie has to deal with him. I know it was a two-day deal, getting Norbert back to the preserve in Romania... wonder how he’s getting on...
The connections closed. Ron spun around, ripping paint from the walls all the way around the room. The Pride jumped back as one, the girls squealing, the boys shouting.
"Sorry," Ron said breathlessly, shoving his mask back. "Just thought of something. About Hagrid. There might be a way we could help him. Or not us, but someone we can get a hold of..."
"What?" Hermione demanded. "Tell us!"
xXxXx
Aletha jumped as her pocket emitted a musical chime. Two curses came from the darkness around her, along with Kingsley’s quiet, urgent, "Shut that thing off!"
"Sorry," Aletha said quickly, pulling the Zippophone from her pocket and flicking it open. "Freeman-Black, and this had better be good," she said into it.
"We think we know how to help Hagrid," said Hermione’s voice without preamble. "Do you know where Tonks is?"
xXxXx
Charlie Weasley’s eyes popped open. Someone was bending over him in the darkness, hand over his mouth. He grabbed onto the hand and yanked, bringing the person down on top of himself, then swung his legs into a clutch and rolled over to pin —
A hand slapped at his ear. "Stop it, it’s me!" hissed Tonks’ voice.
Charlie relaxed. "Could have told me," he muttered, letting her up. "Instead of scaring me half to death. Something wrong, or did you just think it would be romantic to drop in at midnight?"
"Hagrid’s in some sort of trouble. We don’t know what, and we can’t find him — he’s not where Dumbledore thought he’d be."
"Well, if he’s in trouble, that makes sense. What am I supposed to do about it?"
Tonks lit her wand, holding it below their faces. "This is official," she said, in a tone of someone making sure her listener believes her. "Orders, if you understand me."
"I understand. What about it?"
Tonks bent down and picked up a bundle of fabric, which she handed to Charlie. Unbundled, it proved to be a very large shirt, coarse flannel such as he had often seen Hagrid wear. "Give this to Norbert," she said. "And then let him go."
Charlie gaped at her. "Let him what? Are you mad? We can’t just let a dragon go! This is wild country, but there might still be people here, hikers or backpackers or something — Muggles! They wouldn’t stand a chance against a dragon!"
"He’s not going to be interested in them," Tonks countered. "Not with that smell in his nose. He’s going to want to go and find his mummy."
"He might not even remember his mummy. It’s been years."
One of the other dragon-keepers groaned and turned over. Charlie and Tonks both froze, but the man only muttered something unintelligible before falling back asleep. Charlie sighed in relief, then pulled his own wand out and lit it, leading Tonks out of their camp.
"This is a bad idea," he said firmly when they were a safe distance away. "Even if he does remember his mummy, his mummy’s going to look like food to him now."
"Hagrid was the first thing he saw when he hatched, right?" Tonks had her hands on her hips, and Charlie was struck for an instant by how much she looked like his mother. "Animals imprint on what they see when they’re first born. And you’re always telling me how odd Norbert acts, how he doesn’t seem to know he’s a dragon, how he fights with the other dragons, and how attached to you and some of the other keepers he is."
"Well, yes, but—"
"It might be our only chance, Charlie — it might be Hagrid’s only chance. Something’s masking his and Madame Maxime’s trail, and Kingsley thinks it might be Dark magic. But dragons have their own magic. Norbert might be able to find Hagrid where we can’t. Isn’t it at least worth a try?"
Charlie stared past his fiancée’s shoulder at the pen he and the other dragon-keepers had conjured before night fell. Norbert was asleep, of course — asleep was the safest way to move dragons — but magical creatures had been known to shake off spells unexpectedly, and the pen (covered, as was the entire area of the camp and their flight course each day, with Muggle-repelling spells) was a standard caution.
And if they can throw off spells, what else can they do?
"I’m out of my mind," he mumbled to himself. "I am out of my bloody mind."
"Out of it, in it, I don’t care," Tonks snapped. "Make it up already."
"Fine." Shirt over his arm, Charlie nudged Tonks aside and started for the pen. "Just stay back, all right?" he said over his shoulder. "I know you’re good with your wand, but dragons are tricky."
Tonks nodded and backed up a few more paces.
Charlie swarmed up the ladder on the outside of the pen, pausing for a moment at the top. I really am out of my mind. Hell, if this goes wrong, I might be out of a job. Or in Azkaban.
But my friend’s in trouble, and I have my orders.
He dropped to the ground inside the pen and started the spell which would wake the Norwegian Ridgeback.
Besides, what good is life without a little excitement?
xXxXx
Harry peeled his left hand off his Firebolt and flexed his fingers, then did the same with his right. Padfoot noticed and swooped in closer. "Cold?" he shouted over the rushing wind.
"Not too bad," Harry shouted back.
Padfoot gave Harry a skeptical look, moved right alongside him, and drew his wand. "Hands," he said.
Harry grinned, locked his legs around his broom, and took his hands away from it, holding them both out to Padfoot. Padfoot glared at him, then quickly conjured thin leather gloves around them. "You know I meant one at a time," he grumbled, putting his wand away. "Show-off."
Harry nodded cheerily and signed thanks. His fingers were already starting to warm up.
Now if my pendants just would...
xXxXx
Rubeus Hagrid had been in a lot of tight spots in his life, but seldom as tight as this. He and Olympe Maxime had spent the last hour dodging Death Eaters, and the job was getting no easier.
Trouble is, there’s more o’ them than there is of us. And I’m ruddy useless with me wand.
He sighed quietly, rubbing at his aching side. They’d found a place to rest, but at any moment one of their four pursuers might catch sight of their tiny fire, and the chase would be on again.
"I’m sorry abou’ this, Olympe," he said quietly.
"Sorry?" Olympe cocked her head inquiringly. "Why should you be sorry, ‘Agrid?"
"Well." Hagrid absently pressed a rock into the wall of the cave where they sat. "It’s just... I’m not a full wizard, y’know. Never made it through school."
"Oui, you ‘ave told me. And also ‘ow eet was not your fault." Olympe moved closer to him. "Are you thinking, perhaps, zat we might not be in zis trouble if you were a better wizard?"
Hagrid looked away. He could feel his face reddening. "That’s it," he mumbled. "Jus’ about."
Olympe chuckled slightly. "’Agrid, you are too funny," she said, moving closer again, so that she could rest her hand on his shoulder. "I knew zat you ‘ad been expelled from school when Dumbly-dorr asked me to do zis, and still I said yes. Would you ‘ave ‘ad me sit at ‘ome, safe and sound, while you went out to do zis alone?"
Hagrid turned to face her. "No, o’ course not. But..."
"No buts," Olympe said firmly, pressing two fingers against his mouth. "We ‘ave done our best, and wishing will not change zat. We will continue to do our best, and fussing will not ‘elp us. Now we must rest, rest our minds and our bodies both, so zat we can fight again when zey come..."
Her fingers lifted from his lips, but her face was very close to his. "Just one," she whispered. "Since we might not ‘ave anozzer chance."
Hagrid’s throat tightened at the thought, but his arms and his lips seemed to have taken Olympe’s point to heart.
Only trouble is, who stops at just one?
Some six or seven kisses later, they broke away. "Merci," Olympe murmured, smiling. "Merci beaucoup."
"Y’welcome," Hagrid said automatically, his mind still recovering.
Suddenly, sounds like firecrackers exploded across the small valley.
"Apparation," Olympe hissed, dousing the fire with her wand.
Hagrid nodded and edged to the front of the cave. A flicker of white across the valley, then another in a different spot. He held up two fingers behind him, added a third, then a fourth. "They’re all here," he breathed. "They mus’ know we are."
"At least one of zem will never leave ‘ere," Olympe growled, her wand ready in her hand. "Show me where, ‘Agrid..."
Hagrid was about to point out where he’d seen movement when a screech from above froze them both.
"What is eet?" Olympe whispered, her eyes wide.
"Dunno." Hagrid’s mind raced. He wished he dared look out of the cave — he knew what it had sounded like, but that was impossible...
Flames roared across the sky.
"Dragon!" screamed a Death Eater, breaking cover.
Olympe’s Stunner hit him dead-center, knocking him backwards down the slope.
Wings flapped, and the dragon flamed again, this time where Hagrid could see it, setting some of the shrubbery on the mountainside afire. Scales glinted a lustrous black in the firelight.
Black... and two little horns, and orange eyes, and that nice little ridge down his back...
Snapping branches and crashing sounds brought Hagrid out of his astounded trance — two of the remaining three Death Eaters were charging their position, wands out, spells firing — he snatched up his umbrella and threw an Engorgement Charm at one of them, but it was blocked — Olympe was having similar trouble with hers, and he had scored on her with a partial Paralysis Charm —
A huge black claw descended in front of the cave. Then another, and another, and the great black scaled body settled into place. Hagrid was by Olympe’s side in a moment, using her wand to take the charm off her, then holding her, holding his hands over her ears, and she caught on instantly and snatched up her wand, casting a partial Deafener on both of them —
The dragon roared, the sound filling and shaking the mountain valley. Both half-giants winced, despite their protection. Hagrid could only imagine what it must be like to be out in front of that kind of anger.
Serve them right, scaring decent people like that.
Then the great coils of dragon were unwinding, turning, working their way around —
"’Agrid..." Olympe began, her eyes widening as she backed away.
The dragon’s head came into view.
"Norbert!" Hagrid shouted happily. Then he noticed the look in the orange eyes and swallowed hard.
"Now, Norbert," he said in the voice he used to command respect from the larger creatures, "yeh don’ want ter do that. Settle down, now."
Norbert eyed him carefully, seeming to consider.
"Who’s a grand dragon, then?" Hagrid coaxed, switching tones. "Who’s his mummy’s best poppet? Lie down an’ let me get at yer eyebrows, yeh silly beast — I know yeh like a scratch up there, but you’re too big fer me ter reach all the way up there now."
Norbert lowered his head dubiously, then lifted it back up.
"Lie down, I said," Hagrid repeated, bringing his hand down to the cave floor to demonstrate. "Come on, Norbert, down."
Norbert sighed gustily, filling the cave with smoke, then dropped his great head to the ground and lay down. Olympe coughed and quickly cleared the air with a spell.
Hardly daring to believe it, Hagrid approached his baby and began gently to rub at the ridges above Norbert’s eyes, where eyebrows would be on a person. Norbert rumbled in his throat, as he had when he was a tiny dragonet.
"So, ‘Agrid," said Olympe in a carefully calm voice after a few moments. "You... know zis dragon."
"Yeh could say that," said Hagrid, letting his smile spill out onto his face.
"I did say eet." Olympe approached them tentatively, then, when Norbert didn’t move, sat down beside Hagrid and gently stroked one of Norbert’s shining scales. "And I would very much like to know ‘ow eet came about."
"Well..." Hagrid considered where to begin. "It’s a long story, y’know."
Olympe chuckled. "And what do we ‘ave but time? Somehow I think ze Death Eaters will not be back so soon."
"Think you’re right," Hagrid agreed, grinning as he scratched Norbert’s brow ridges harder. "Well, then, I s’pose it starts in the Hog’s Head, one o’ the pubs down in Hogsmeade..."
xXxXx
Ginny let out her breath and hugged her brother tightly. "Ron, you’re a genius," she said.
"Nice work, Redwing," Draco agreed, knocking fists with Ron over Ginny’s head.
Ron shrugged. "Someone else would have come up with it eventually," he said.
"But eventually might have been too late," said Meghan. "You came up with it in time to save Hagrid’s life."
"Maybe you should go to the Order meetings, Ron," said Hermione. "Different ones than I get to go to. They could use you to help them plan what they need to protect, and who."
"Maybe... what do you mean, different ones?"
"I’m sure they have meetings I don’t come to," Hermione said. "Meetings where they discuss really secret things, things that we can’t know about yet. They can’t let me hear everything — it’s too dangerous."
"But they know it’s also dangerous to keep us from knowing anything," Neville put in. "Because then we’ll sneak and try to find things out, and we might hear things we’re not supposed to. If they tell us some things, we likely won’t snoop around and listen at doors."
"We won’t," said Ron. "The twins will."
"Not if we keep them informed," said Ginny. "And we can trade, you know. Information is valuable. We could get lots of free samples of whatever they’re working on these days if we just promise to tell them what we know..."
Speculative looks were traded.
Draco drew a tissue from his pocket and handed it to Luna without comment.
Halfway through the discussion of what the twins were making and what the Pride might reasonably demand for their information, a door slammed downstairs. Seven heads came up.
"Harry?" said Meghan, her eyes widening as her smile began to grow.
"I’m home!" shouted the voice they’d all been waiting for.
"Harry!" Meghan dashed out the door, Hermione and Draco only a second behind her. Luna blotted her eyes once more, then put the tissue in her pocket and followed Ron to the stairs.
"Aren’t you going to go down and say hello?" Neville asked Ginny, letting the scroll on which he’d been taking notes roll up again.
Ginny shrugged nonchalantly. "Maybe in a minute."
"All right." Neville picked up the scroll and capped his ink bottle, putting his quill in his pocket. On his way out of the room, he paused and turned back. "I don’t think he’ll always be stupid," he said in a matter-of-fact tone.
Ginny hissed under her breath. "Why can’t he be more like you?" she asked, certain that Neville knew what and who she meant. "Nice, and smart, and not as dense as a rock about everything except what’s in front of his nose, and not always thinking he’s the most important thing in the world?"
"Because then he’d be me, not him." Neville might have been talking about anything. "And you don’t like me that way. You like him."
"But why?" Ginny demanded. "It doesn’t make sense! He barely even knows I exist, except as just another part of the Pride!"
Neville shifted from foot to foot, fiddling with the edge of the scroll.
Ginny slumped. She knew the symptoms of "I know the answer but you won’t like it" as well as any child in a big family. "Go on," she said dully. "Just say it."
"A lot of the time, you don’t act like anything but ‘just another part of the Pride,’" Neville said. "And the Pride is really great, but we all need to have ourselves too. If that made any sense."
"No, it does," said Ginny. "It’s like a family. We have to be people before we can be a group, or the group turns into all there is of us. So you think I need to be more me?"
Neville nodded. "I like you," he said. "And I think there’s a lot of you there." He colored slightly. "I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I meant..." He looked flustered for a moment, then relaxed as he hit on the words he needed. "It’s like your statue, the one you made the other day. You said it was you, and it’s very complicated and not easy to figure out. There’s a lot to you, Ginny. You just have to let it shine out." He smiled. "I think once you do, nobody will be able to ignore you anymore."
"Thanks, Neville." Ginny smiled back at him, and crossed the room to give him a quick hug. "Maybe you should be the official Pride cheerer-upper."
"I’d like that," Neville said thoughtfully. "Making people feel better is always good. Are you ready to go say hello to Harry, then?"
"Ready when you are."
They left the room side by side, Neville leaning back in to shut off the lights.
xXxXx
Harry couldn’t keep himself from grinning like an idiot as he went down the stairs to the basement kitchen, the noisy, jubilant Pride all around him. Hagrid was going to be all right — everything was going to be all right —
His scar burned, and he felt a wave of cold, indignant anger. Couldn’t they get anything right? Even the simplest, most basic of tasks seemed beyond them — bungling fools! But they would learn. They would learn, if he had to beat it into them with his own two hands —
"Harry!"
Harry’s eyes shot open. Meghan was kneeling beside him, her hand on the back of his head. "You tripped and fell," she said, her eyes wide. "And then... then..."
"Get off," Harry said, pulling away. "Don’t touch me."
Meghan stared at him in astonishment. "But you were hurt. I can’t just leave you..."
"You’ll have to." Harry found a wall behind him and used it to pull himself up to sitting. "I don’t want you anywhere near me if I fall down like that again, you understand? It isn’t safe. Don’t you remember what happened to you when Draco had that curse on him? You can get hurt with this kind of thing. Promise me, Meghan. Promise you won’t touch me if this happens again."
Meghan’s mouth formed a soft O of understanding. "Is that what I was feeling?" she whispered. "I mean... is that who?"
Harry explored the back of his head with his fingers and winced as he found the lump, but it was nowhere near as large or as painful as it should have been — Meghan must have done some healing on him before he woke up. "Yeah," he said aloud. "It must have been."
"Well, that didn’t take long," Padfoot muttered. "What was it, Harry?"
"He was mad," Harry said, letting his godfather help him up. He could hear footsteps on the stairs, someone else was coming in, but he didn’t particularly care who. His good mood had vanished, and all he could feel was tired. "He thinks they can’t do anything right."
"Who thinks who can do nothing right?" inquired Snape, appearing in the stairway.
"Voldemort," Harry said, leaning on the wall. A smile half-surfaced on his face as he watched Snape start. "And the Death Eaters, I guess. They must have bollixed something up."
Snape gave Harry a hard look. "You know so much, Potter," he said skeptically.
Harry met Snape’s eyes. "I was him for a second," he said. "I don’t think I’m wrong."
An expression Harry couldn’t quite identify flitted across Snape’s face. Harry inhaled deeply and coughed in surprise.
"You need to sit down, Harry," Padfoot said, stepping between Harry and Snape and shooting Snape a glare over his shoulder. "Do you want something to drink? Or any of you others, while we’re waiting for the rest to get back?" He shepherded Harry towards a chair, then started for the pantry. "Danger’s probably upstairs somewhere, I don’t know why she hasn’t come down yet, she’s the one who knows where everything is..."
"I’m coming, I’m coming, you helpless man, you," said Danger, dodging by Snape as he turned and hurried back up the stairs. "Honestly, anyone would think you’d never been in a kitchen before. Shoo. Go introduce your friend, I don’t think anyone else has met her..."
A young woman in finely cut robes stepped into the kitchen hesitantly, her fair hair spilling over her shoulders. Sirius hurried to her side. "Everyone, this is Corona Gamp," he said, waving to them. "Corona, that’s Ron and Ginny Weasley there, Molly’s two youngest — I’m sure you’ll meet the other boys eventually, they’ll all be here at some point — Neville Longbottom there, Luna Lovegood..."
Harry tuned out in favor of thinking over what Snape’s scent had revealed.
He figured something out, or had an idea. And he thought it was a pretty damn good one.
I just hope we think so too...
xXxXx
Meghan fell asleep at the table during the Pride’s catching-up, missing her plate of goulash by an inch. "Wore herself out," Sirius said, coming around the table to scoop her up. "I’ll get her to bed, just don’t let Harry eat my dinner."
"I don’t want your dinner. It’s full of dog germs."
"Ouch," Sirius said, shifting Meghan in his arms. "How long have you been waiting to use that one? Since you were five?"
Harry threw him a hand-signed insult.
"There, that’s better." Sirius mounted the basement stairs with his daughter in his arms, chuckling to himself as he passed the empty place where his mother’s portrait had hung. "Sorry, Mum, but it had to be done," he said aloud, and amused himself imagining her shrill, indignant replies as he started up the second flight.
Meghan didn’t even move when Sirius laid her down in her bed, pulled her shoes off, and tucked the sheet over her. "Sleep well, sweetheart," he whispered, and leaned down to kiss her forehead. "I’m so glad to be home."
The light in the room suddenly dimmed. Sirius looked up at the wall, where the lighted rectangle which was the open door had been diminished by the shadowy shape of a human being standing in the doorway. A woman, it was a woman watching him, and not Danger or Corona either...
He inhaled, and her scent flowed over him, clean and fresh and sharp. It was one of the things he’d missed most for the last month.
But something’s wrong...
He rose from his knees and turned to face her. "What did I do?" he asked.
Aletha’s lips twitched. "You know, some men would try to dissemble in this situation," she said coolly. "I admire your candor."
"What situation?"
"There’s a blonde woman in the kitchen. I’ve never met her before. She claims she came with you." Aletha looked him up and down. "Is there anything you want to tell me, Sirius? Or ask me, perchance?"
"Well, yes, there is something I want to ask you. Something I’ve been wanting to ask you ever since I met Corona — that’s her name, by the way, Corona Gamp. Lovely girl."
"Yes," Aletha said, still with the small half-smile on her lips. "A lovely girl indeed."
"Not nearly as lovely as a lot of others I saw. A lot of the ones who wanted to dance with me, and talk with me, and maybe get their hooks into me." Sirius hoped he wasn’t taking this too far. "I wish you could have seen some of them."
"Do you? Why?"
"Oh, just so you could see how much more beautiful you are than all of them put together."
Aletha was in his arms within a second. "I knew it had to be something like that, you horrid man," she whispered into his ear after their first long kiss. "But I didn’t want to spoil my compliment."
Sirius chuckled. "Good, then you’ll know not to spoil this." He disengaged and went to one knee in front of her. "Aletha, will you marry me? Magically, this time? I don’t ever want to go through this again. I’m yours, and I want the world to know it. Will you?"
"Why, Sirius," Aletha murmured, smiling although her eyes were very bright. "I thought you’d never ask."
In her sleep, Meghan smiled.
Author Notes:
Ten points for anyone who can figure out what Snape’s just thought of.
Sorry, everyone who wants LSSR. It is in the works, but this moved in and wouldn’t leave. If you’d rather I kept trying for something I can’t do well on, and didn’t write what is demanding to be written, just let me know...
Ah well. Hope you enjoyed it. Things are starting to go places, not the same places they went in canon, but places nonetheless. More summer next chapter, more Grimmauld Place... maybe even something like TheFox101’s Hell or Hex...