Content Harry Potter Miscellaneous
  • Previous
  • Next

Author Notes:

A slightly longer-than-usual chapter, to celebrate my return from my Lenten "vacation".

Sirius opened one eye. Why, he didn't know, as it wasn't going to tell him anything different than his other senses already had. He was alone in Aletha's nest, Aletha's own curl of blankets cold and her scent going stale, Danger's still warm and vivid.

Danger'd better not have gone far. She's got enough sense to Disillusion, but she doesn't know her way around here, and if she gets lost…

"If she gets lost, she'll smell her way back, same as I would," he muttered aloud. "No borrowing trouble, Sirius, you have enough of your own. Like getting us home."

Setting the back of his mind to that task, he peered out from behind the curtain, then pulled it aside when the coast proved to be clear.

We have to get out of here. Especially Danger. She's starting to fall apart, she should never have been away from Moony this long, I wish she'd stayed back at Headquarters where she belongs…

But having Danger nearby had been a comfort, he had to admit, even as it had doubled his anxiety for the women he loved most in the world. She had been his link to freedom, to safety, to everything normal and right, and though she could have found him in dreams from anywhere, it had helped to know that she was there, that the Death Eaters' little sanctuary had been invaded.

Without that, without her, they would have worn me down a lot faster than they did.

Hand wrapped around the butt of his potion piece, he eased down the corridors in the direction his nose told him Danger had gone, checking every corner before he rounded it.

Wish I had a mask. They wear them indoors sometimes, and it would stop anyone spotting who I am right off. As it is, I'll have to hope I see them before they see me…

From up ahead, a woman cried out in fear, a man in triumph.

Sirius was running before the first echoes had died away.

He knew those voices, and in that combination, they meant nothing good.


Lucius Malfoy smirked as he removed the Disillusionment Charm from the woman he had by the arm. He knew who she was, but he would look better presenting her to the Dark Lord if she were visible.

"Forget about your little gift to me?" he asked, tapping the side of his nose with his wand. "So kind of you, to make sure I can always smell intruders even when I can't see them…"

Danger snarled. Lucius' wand ignited. He cursed and dropped it, but the flames were guttering out even as it fell, and he stomped the last of them out with two quick blows of a foot, then backhanded Danger across the face. "Bad girl. I see where your sister learns her habits. Still, she's young. Plenty of time for retraining, especially with you as leverage against her and vice versa. Now, you're going to tell me what you did with—"

A hand clamped down on his shoulder and squeezed, breaking his grip on Danger and turning him to face its owner.

"Get away from my sister," said Sirius Black coldly, and punched Lucius in the face.


Sirius pulled out his potion piece as Lucius stumbled backwards across the corridor. Checking to make sure it was set on a yellow cartridge, he pointed it and pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened.

"Arm it." Danger had her own wand out now, and fired a Stunner into Lucius as she spoke, one hand on the wall to keep herself upright. "Push on the barrel, pull on the cartridge. You'll need it, he wasn't alone…"

Following her directions, Sirius nodded in satisfaction as the piece began to vibrate slightly under his hand. "What do you mean, he wasn't alone? I don't see anyone else—"

"Lucius?" called a voice from somewhere nearby.

"Bugger." Sirius got an arm around Danger's shoulders and guided her around the corner, away from the voice, leaving Lucius crumpled on the floor. It occurred to him when they were two corridors away that he ought to have had Danger hide the body, but by then it was too late. The hunt was on, and they were the prey.

"Can't Apparate us out of here, can you?" he murmured to Danger without much hope. "We could come back for Letha…"

"No." Danger shuddered against his side, her breath coming raggedly. "Can't concentrate, and they'll have this place warded in any case… I shouldn't have done that, Sirius. The fire. It's linked to Remus, it was given to us both, and when I tried to use it to fight with, the block on the bond nearly shattered."

Sirius gulped at his mental image of the last time Danger and Remus had been separated, before they'd known about the effects their bond had on them when it got overstressed.

And that was three days, where this is going on two weeks. If that block breaks now, it'll kill them both and save Voldemort the trouble…

As if he didn't have enough to think about, his storytelling mind had reactivated, placing the image from a few seconds ago of Lucius casually slapping Danger next to one from his memories of Draco practicing hand-to-hand against Hermione, wondering how best to use the two in comparison or contrast. He shoved the thoughts away, but they kept recurring, making him growl under his breath. If I don't survive to get out of this place, you're not getting written, so shut the hell up!

Danger pressed her face into his side, muffling a moan. "He's waking," she whispered. "I can feel it, Remus is waking up, and I won't be there for him—he doesn't know about the block, he'll think I'm dead, I don't know what he's going to do—"

"Take it easy." Sirius maneuvered them both into a small and dusty room, sliding back to keep them from being visible on a casual inspection, making sure he could reach the potion piece at his side. "We'll get you home soon."

She sniffled once, then made a face at him. "Liar."

"Yeah, but it made you smile, didn't it?"

If this is where I'm going to die, I can't think of better company to do it in.

Well, always excepting two.

He tightened his grip on Danger's arm and prepared to take a few of the bastards with him.  


Harry curled himself into a ball, forehead on his knees and arms around his head, hoping that would stop it from exploding as it seemed to want to do. First Voldemort's glee, then his terrible fury, had whiplashed through the link, and Harry knew the wards had to be reducing the effect. What would it be like when they fell?

Because they are going to fall. Once all the Dursleys are either dead or sworn to Voldemort and not living here anymore, they'll fall. That's the piece we missed, the one thing we didn't think about. Dudley being willing to give up his own parents to advance himself as a Death Eater.

So the wards are going down. And I don't know that I can move, much less run. I would feel better—he pitched the thought to carry, aiming it across the room at the furry creature perched anxiously on the windowsill—if certain people weren't here so I can be sure I won't hurt them if I get taken over—

You really think Hermione would let me live if I left you now? Fox snorted, letting Harry know his own opinion of the likelihood of that. What happens, happens to both of us. Besides, if he takes you over, that constitutes enough of an emergency that no one's going to be worrying about a little thing like Animagus. And in that case, I have a plan.

The four most frightening words in the English language. Harry buried his face more deeply, trying to keep his breathing even and regular. It might not stop the pain, but it would help with the sickness he could feel rising in the back of his throat. Just don't die, all right?

Can't, Fox sent cheerily. Not time yet.

And here I thought there couldn't be anything good about that vision of Luna's…

Harry almost managed a smile, then stuffed the back of one wrist into his mouth to keep himself from shouting. Half the pain in his scar had vanished, but confusion, dizziness, terror were battering at his mind. His free hand went out, groping at the bedclothes, and a sharp smell made him cough. What is—

Lock it down! Fox shouted, crossing the distance between them in three jumps and planting his front paws on the bed. Your fire magic, Harry, it's getting away from you, lock it down! All comments about destroying this place aside, I'm not in a mood to experience it from the inside!

Trying. Harry fumbled for the right spells, the combinations of thoughts that would control the flames he could now feel spurting from his fingertips at random intervals. It's hard. Something's wrong. Something's not there that should be there, and it's making everything hard…


Ron, Neenie on his shoulders, beat everyone to the end of the hall and skidded to a halt behind Dumbledore, who was standing in the doorway of Mr. Moony's bedroom, his wand sketching patterns in the air.

Runes, Neenie whispered, following the wand tip with her eyes. Protection, defense, healing—Ron, say something, ask him what's going on—

"What's happening?" Meghan demanded, arriving with a breathless Neville behind her, Ginny and Luna at their heels, both covered in white and smelling like bread. "Is Moony all right? Is he awake?"

"Stay back." Dumbledore's voice sounded absent at first, but Ron caught the notes of worry underneath it, and Neenie's nose picked up the sharp spike of fear in the Headmaster's scent. "He is half-awake, caught between his memories and reality, and he thinks there are enemies here to be fought. The magic he is using to combat those enemies is formidable. I must concentrate to keep it from damaging the house, or any of its occupants."

Meghan started to open her mouth again. Ginny put a floury finger firmly on Meghan's lips. "That means be quiet," she said in answer to the ferocious glare Meghan bestowed on her. "Otherwise you're making it worse, not better."

Ron plucked Neenie off his shoulders, swallowing against the wobbling the movement induced in his borrowed vision, and held her where she could see past Dumbledore. Think he'll be all right? he asked silently, watching through her eyes as Mr. Moony twisted restlessly in his bed, shoots of fire appearing and disappearing in the air around him. Once he wakes up, I mean.

I don't know, Ron. Neenie shivered against his hands, her tail wrapping around his wrist. I don't know if he can wake up. Not all the way. Not without Danger here. And my pendants have been just a little bit cold all day, the way they might be if she were in trouble and I was too far away to do anything about it…


A gray mist crept into the corners of Sirius' vision. He scowled and squinted, trying to will it away.

I don't care how recently I got healed. I refuse to pass out and let them kill me without a fight. Go away, you stupid mist, I don't want you…

But the mist persisted, pooling along the bottom of the doorway, eddying higher and higher in little swirls. Sirius blinked a few times and waved his hand through one of the eddies. It felt like a light touch of nothing, a breeze neither hot nor cold.

Where did it come from? And what is it? I've never seen anything magical like it, unless you count potion fumes, and those I should have been able to smell by now—

With a rush, the mist sprang upwards to fill the doorframe. Sirius jerked back, still shielding Danger with his body. She made a tiny questioning noise.

"I don't know." The mist was settling into a definite form now, edges and lines taking shape. "It almost looks like—"

"This way!" shouted a voice in the corridor outside. "They have to have gone this way!"

"We'll have them soon now!"

"The exits are covered, they can't get out!"

Sirius drew his potion piece once more, but kept it aimed at the floor rather than at any of the speakers. He was starting to think he wouldn't need it just yet, and besides, he couldn't see anyone to fire it at.

Not through that very nice illusion stone wall that someone kindly conjured across the door for us. The illusion stone wall which apparently looks so much like the rest of the stone walls around here that none of the Death Gobblers have noticed there ought to be a door. Not a form of conjuration I've seen before, but it's keeping me breathing, I'm not about to complain, though I would like to know who—

As the noise in the corridor died down, Danger went rigid against Sirius' side. Instinct and years of Pack-living warned him what was about to happen, and he pulled her face against his shoulder just in time to muffle her half-conscious wail.

She's losing it, she'll give us away if this keeps up—I can put her out with the yellow if I have to, but that leaves me with no magic and her to carry, and Letha lost somewhere in the house, that's not exactly a recipe for getting home alive—

A form hurtled through the illusory wall. Sirius had the potion piece pointed at it before his mind had time to register its appearance, and pointed back at the floor the moment it had. "Where the hell have you been?" he demanded of Aletha, her hands wrapped around a small stiff bundle of cloth and a strange mixture of fear and exaltation on her face. "I woke up and you were gone!"

And isn't that a charming way to speak to the woman I'm hoping to make fall in love with me again.  If I keep this up, I'll be able to scratch my voicebox with my toenails…

"Oh, I am sorry." The tone in Aletha's voice made Sirius wince. She might have lost her memories, but she had retained all her skill in sarcasm. "I was only looking for the tools to make sure we can get out of here. That is what you want, isn't it? You wouldn't rather I put you back where I found you?"

"No, of course I—" Sirius hauled back on his temper. "I'm sorry," he said simply, stroking Danger's hair as her shivering increased in response to his tension. "I shouldn't have been rude. How did you know where to find us? Did you see who set up the illusion?"

Aletha nodded, watching his face closely. The heel of her right hand pressed against her side for a moment in a motion Sirius found achingly familiar. "What's the matter with her?" she asked, indicating Danger. "The block on her bond with Remus, is it failing?"

"Yes, it's—" Sirius stopped mid-word, a wild hope dawning in his mind. "How did you know that? Are you—"

A raised hand halted him once again. "There's no time. Not now. They'll be coming back and the illusion won't hold much longer, or against anyone with really strong magic. If you had your wand, how long do you think you could hold them off?"

"If I could use it, you mean?" Sirius re-ran the mental calculations he'd been performing on that very subject with the potion piece as his weapon. "A minute or two at least, and that's if they're smart and use massed fire to overwhelm my shields before I can pick them off. But I can't…"

He trailed off as Aletha unwrapped the bundle she was still holding. "You found it," he breathed, stretching out his hand automatically for his wand, then pulling it back. "It won't do any good, Letha—Mare, I mean—whoever you are, I can't do magic, it got burned out of me when I broke my vow—"

"You only broke that vow because you were forced to break it," Aletha interrupted him, stepping forward with the rhythm of her words, still holding out his wand towards him. "And you were given permission to break it, ordered to do it even, by the only person with a right to give that order. Don't you think that should count for something?"

"It should, but obviously it doesn't." Sirius laid his left hand over the grip of his wand and tried not to grimace at the lack of warmth and welcome. "Magic's a bitch like that."

"Then maybe this will." Closing her hand around his and the wand, Aletha met Sirius' gaze with her own and held it. "Sirius Valentine Black, I forgive you."

For one breathless second, nothing happened. Danger's weight sagging onto his shoulder, Aletha's firm grip stopping just short of pain, the polished smoothness of mahogany against his fingers, were all Sirius could feel—

And then the warmth began.

It blossomed simultaneously in his left palm and all five fingertips, flowing together in a tingling explosion of heat, then shot up his arm into his chest, leaving him gasping for breath and his heart pounding. His right hand, still holding Danger close to him, warmed with it, as did the tips of his toes, his ears and his chin. He wouldn't have been surprised to find his eyes glowing with it.

Is this—it's got to be—

He grasped his wand, swung it up and out of line with Aletha, and focused on the last non-battle spell he'd consciously used, on the first time he'd seen Evanie and the last time he'd been happy…

Aletha reached out and caught the bunch of roses as it flew from the wand's tip. "You do have a romantic side," she remarked, cradling them in the crook of her arm. "I thought you must."

"I—" Sirius swallowed against the cracking of his voice. "I don't know how to thank you—"

"Give me that two minutes you said you could." Aletha set the flowers down on the floor and came to his side, reaching for Danger. "I have an idea, but I don't know if it's even possible, and if it is, I'm going to have to give it all my attention and every bit of power I have."

"Will it get us out of here?" Sirius shifted Danger into Aletha's arms, helping his wife lower her semi-conscious burden to the floor. "Or at least give us a clear run at it?"

"It should."

"Take what time you need, then." Squaring his shoulders, Sirius stepped up to the door. "I'll hold them off."

"Don't get killed if you can avoid it. I'm getting quite fond of you."

Getting quite fond, are you? Sirius stole a glance over his shoulder at Aletha, leaning over Danger and laying a hand on her forehead, before turning a patch of the illusion-mist invisible from his side only so that he could watch the corridor beyond. That sounds like your memories haven't come back after all. But you knew Remus' name, and that he and Danger are bonded. And you figured out how to reverse what happened to me—even a forced betrayal requires forgiveness before it can heal…

Auror training came to his aid, slowing his racing thoughts, shutting them off from the part of his mind that would take action if and when the Death Eaters returned this way. For it to matter if Aletha's memories had returned or not, they had to survive.

And that, right now, depends on me.

Gripping his wand a little tighter, Sirius prepared to defend the women of his Pack.


The alpha wolf howled in frustration, snapping at the wraiths gibbering and dancing around him. Where is my mate? he demanded of his insubstantial enemies. What have you done with her? Give her back to me!

She left you of her own free will, one ghost taunted, floating close enough for him to see the features of the friend-turned-enemy he had tried to catch—was it only a few moments before? It must have been, since he remembered nothing between that time and this. She went away from you to look for your betas, but she will never find them, and she will never come back to you!

You lie! The alpha snarled and attacked, but the enemy was gone, and another had materialized behind him, this one wearing different features. He had not seen this face in the fight, though perhaps it had only been hidden, and it was subtly wrong—unscarred, that was it, the face was lacking scars he knew it now wore, and without them it bore an uncanny resemblance to a member of the alpha's own Pack…

Poor little wolf, so lost without his precious Pack around him, this enemy crooned, a note of triumph in the words. What would he do if he woke and found that instead of his foes, he had been striking out at the ones he adores so much—that he had killed the very things he claims to love?

The alpha growled low in his throat. My mate guards me when that rage tries to take me away from myself. She would never stay away from me when that time had come.

And if it comes out of season, out of its proper time, what then? The enemy laughed, smug and sure of himself. Or what if the reason you cannot find your so-loving mate is that she is dead? What will you do then, when your rage comes back and destroys everything you care for?

I will destroy myself first. The alpha crouched, gathering all his power, preparing for the fastest and most powerful strike he knew. But first, I will destroy—

Remus, no!

The name, the voice in which it was spoken, and most of all the desperate need in that voice froze the alpha in mid-spring. The ghosts vanished as though they had never been, and in their place two women came running toward him hand in hand. He was on his feet, human, before he knew how it had happened, reaching for them eagerly. Danger, he called out. Letha, you're all right—

We will be now, the taller woman answered, stopping a pace or two away and releasing the smaller one, who ran into his embrace and clung to him as though she would never let go. I've got to keep moving, though. This is tricky work. Which way to get to Harry?

Remus looked around, reaching without thinking into Danger's dreamsculpting magic and forming the featureless plain around them into something more closely resembling his usual concept of his own mind. There, he said, pointing at the flame-walled tunnel as it formed. But what's going—

No time. Aletha darted down the tunnel, her mental voice echoing behind her. Tell you later…


Neenie tried to keep her claws from flexing into Ron's shoulders, but it was hard, so hard, when she could smell the fear and confusion rolling off Moony, the mounting worry in Professor Dumbledore's scent, and clearest of all the wisps of smoke as Moony's fire powers broke again and again through the strongest wards the Headmaster could cast—the other girls were clustered in a little knot at the side of the hall, Neville standing guard beside them with one hand on Meghan's shoulder and the other on his potion piece—

A hissing inhalation from within the bedroom was followed by a shuddering sigh, and the tension went out of Professor Dumbledore's shoulders. "Well," he said, clearing the air with a brisk wave of his wand. "I cannot claim to know exactly what has happened, but I would venture a guess that someone of our allegiance has scored a victory."

Meghan hurried forward and peered into the room. Her hand went up to her mouth. "He's back," she said indistinctly around it. "He's back, Neenie, Moony's back where he belongs, he's going to be all right now!"

Without being asked, Ron leaned around the doorframe. Neenie rubbed her cheek against his ear in thanks and watched as Moony's hand moved to caress an invisible face beside his own. Danger must have found some way to reconnect their bond without being here…

They've still got to be together, though, haven't they? Ron asked worriedly. Touching, I mean, actually physically next to each other. Doesn't it hurt them to be apart too long? Isn't that why she had to cut it off in the first place?

Yes, but I think—I hope—she wouldn't have connected with him again unless she were on her way home. Neenie let her jaw drop, breathing in Moony's scent laden with calm and trying to make it her own. And since she already knows where home is, she won't be nearly as long coming as she was going. I only hope…

She's been able to help Mr. Padfoot and Mrs. Letha? Ron reached up to stroke the top of her head. Me too. Have to wait and see, though.

Neenie smothered a laugh in Ron's robes. I thought I was supposed to be the patient one.

Do you good to have a change, said Ron loftily.

The second laugh refused to be smothered.


With a suddenness that left Harry's mind reeling, the pain and confusion vanished. He sucked in a breath and damped the tiny fires he could now see all over the room. Here's hoping the Ministry can't track Heirs' powers…

Fox wiped a paw across his furred forehead in exaggerated relief. Had me worried there, he said. What happened?

Don't know exactly, but I think Moony must be awake—

Harry!

The voice, being female, was definitely not Moony. It was, however, familiar, and Harry had his eyes shut to obey its call almost before he knew what he was doing. Give me a hand? he sent to Fox.

On it.

A brush of green-prickle-pine swept through Harry's magical senses, and then he was standing in the clearing where he had battled Voldemort with his siblings, Draco's brown-haired dream-form at his side and Letha just emerging from the trees. "There you are," she said, hurrying forward. "And—" She frowned at Draco for one moment, but then nodded, as though confirming something she had been told. "Yes, that's right. Harry, Draco, I'm going to need both your help, and I'm going to need it without questions. Will you give it to me?"

"Yes," Harry said immediately, over Draco's, "Of course."

"Good." Letha planted her feet, settling them as Harry had seen her do many times before when she was preparing to cast a particularly tricky spell. "Harry, I need you to find me the direction that Voldemort's mind is from yours. I know it's blocked off, but that doesn't mean it's gone. Which way is it?"

Harry turned slowly on the spot, casting about. No… no… no… a-ha. "That way," he said, pointing.

Draco snapped his fingers, and the trees on that side of the clearing disappeared, replaced with a wall of red stone which managed somehow to be simultaneously solid and flickering with fire. Around the edges of the wall Harry could just see an ooze of greenish black, the stench of which was already threatening to bring his headache back.

So that's what it looks like…

"Nicely done," Letha said to Draco, who bowed. "Now, I need you to make me something. About so long and so wide—" Her hands moved gracefully to indicate. "Made of wood, good and sturdy—"

"Beater's bat?" Harry suggested.

Letha chuckled. "I knew it had a name. Thank you."

The bat materialized in her hands without fanfare, and she took a few practice swings with it, nodding in satisfaction. "Very good. Now, here comes the trickiest part. I need both of you—and you two as well," she called over her shoulder, towards a light Harry could now see between the trees. "I need you to think of everything you've missed over these last two weeks. Think of everything you could have been doing, and what you had to do instead. Let it all come out, every bit of it, or as much as you can manage."

Let it out? I think I can manage that much…

Harry shut his eyes and started at the beginning, The shock and violation of having his soul ripped out of his body came first, followed by the fear for his siblings when they came seeking him in Voldemort's own stronghold, succeeded by the anxious hours waiting for news and the horror and disbelief at the news when it finally arrived. Moment by moment, moving in fast-forward, he relived the past two weeks, running on a parallel track the way he had wanted those weeks to go.

Parties for the birthdays, Draco's first, then Neville's and mine. Practice with potion pieces, with wands, with partners and alone. Sharing gripes over homework, flirting and stealing kisses, teasing each other about getting spotted stealing kisses. Damn it, I wanted a little time to be normal, to have my life the way I like it, not the way His Dark Lordliness wants it to be, and instead I get stuck in a bedroom at my relatives' house for two solid weeks—

"Excellent, Harry," Letha's voice broke into his reverie. "Have a look."

Opening his eyes, Harry stared at the glistening black ball hovering over Letha's outstretched hand. "Is that a Bludger?"

"It is and it isn't." Letha smiled, as though she had a delightful secret she planned to share. "You'll see in a moment. Now for the last part of what I need from you. I know you're happy to have your protection back—" She nodded towards the wall across the connection to Voldemort's mind. "—but it's in my way at the moment. I need you to take it down."

"Take it—"

"For three seconds, that's all," Letha continued as though she hadn't heard Harry's outburst. "Three seconds down, and then by all means put it back up. By that point, you'll need to. Will you do that?"

Harry turned halfway around and signed to Draco with the hand Letha couldn't see. We're sure she's the real thing?

She couldn't be here if she weren't. Draco flicked his eyes through the trees towards the light Letha had called out to earlier. Besides, I think they'd have noticed.

Following Draco's line of sight, Harry couldn't resist a smile at the two figures who might as well have been one, so tightly were they embraced. Good enough for me, he signed. I'll need to be awake for this, though…

I can split your consciousness if you let me. Draco waggled his fingers back and forth. Get you just awake enough to pull the locket off and put it back on, and let you see what goes on here.

Sounds good.

"Yes," Harry said aloud, turning back to face Letha. "I'll do it."

"Thank you." Letha's voice had begun to sound a bit strained, and Harry noticed for the first time that her hand was quivering, as though she were holding the Bludger in place with her own magic.

Which she'd have to be. Bludgers don't hold still of themselves. But I still don't understand where she got it—she's no dreamsculpter…

Abruptly he was in two places at once, the forest glade with the wall to one side superimposed on the bedroom at the Dursleys'. His hand went to his chest in both places, his fingers closed around the locket, and his mouth shaped the word, "Ready?"

"Ready," piped Letha's dream-voice, and her hazy figure took a stance in front of the Bludger and raised her bat.

Harry pulled at the locket. The pendant chain obediently released it.

Pain and fury lashed him like lightning. He raised his wand for another spell, only to have the impudent creature's pitiful efforts cut it off short. How had the blood traitor regained even his human form, to say nothing of his magic, and what was he so determined to defend? Whatever it was, Lord Voldemort would destroy it, and force the treacherous fool to live long enough to see it die, just as he had done with Potter's Muggle relatives—

A cold nose shoved at Harry's hand, pushing it upwards. With a wrench, Harry pulled himself partly free of Voldemort's mind. He knew he ought to be doing something, but what?

The chain, several voices called in chorus. Put the locket back on it—tell it to let the locket back on—hurry, there's not much time—

Harry looked hazily down at his chain. Well, you heard them, he told it, as his hand guided the locket back towards it with the help of a small and furry muzzle. Let it back on…


Sirius fired three offensive spells in quick succession, following them up with yet another reinforcement on his Shield Charm. When he'd told Aletha he could hold for at least two minutes, he'd expected to be battling Death Eaters. Possibly a lot of Death Eaters, but still, Death Eaters. He had not expected to be facing Voldemort himself.

Though the way everything these past couple weeks has gone, maybe I should have…

He was about to reinforce his shield again when it happened. Voldemort, standing in all his offended evilness in the center of the corridor, froze with his wand halfway up to cast another spell. His mouth opened, and out of it came the most unholy shriek of pain Sirius had ever heard.

What the—

Sirius shook himself. Never mind what, get him! Now!

The Stunner seemed almost a mercy blow. Voldemort slumped where he stood, and Sirius finally turned away from his post at the door to find Danger sitting up and Aletha kneeling beside her, head in her hands. "You all right?" he asked them both, waggling the wand between them.

"I am," Danger answered, jumping up. "She will be. But we need to get out of here right now, if you wouldn't mind, oh Heir of Slytherin House…"

"Heir of—right." Sirius pulled his pendants out of his robes and tossed the chain over Danger's head, then over Aletha's as Danger helped her to her feet. "Think it'll take all three, since there are three of us?"

"It might not, but let's not take the chance." Danger jerked her head towards the hallway, which was beginning to sound like someone had kicked over a beehive. "Saving jewels won't do us any good if that lot gets us."

"Agreed." Sirius focused on his pendants. Green jewels, please, he thought clearly, remembering Draco and Hermione's story of the way Draco had escaped from Lucius at the Shrieking Shack in their third year. We need that now, but not too much—we've got to be able to go up as well as through, so give us a little resistance, please, enough to climb…

The gems pulsed with emerald light once, twice, three times, and went out. Sirius hooked an arm around Aletha's shoulders, Danger steadying her from the other side, and stepped into the solid stone wall as if he did so every day.

We'll get back to ground level and past the wards, and then I want to find out what exactly is going on with Letha.

She may have healed me, but the Wizengamot's still out on whether or not she's healed herself.


Harry opened his eyes in the Dursleys' master bedroom for what he fervently hoped would be the last time. The catflap was still swinging where Fox had gone out at a run. Rolling carefully onto his side, Harry sat up, then stood when his head remained on his shoulders and nothing exploded inside it.

Get out of the house, but stay nearby. Moony's orders repeated themselves inside his mind. Someone will come for you within a few moments. If you see Death Eaters, hide. Defend yourselves only if necessary.

Humming under his breath, Harry pulled out his potion piece and snapped it around to the red cartridge. He armed it, pressed his hand deliberately to the antidote patch, then began to apply tiny drips of the Semi-Universal Solvent to the tops and bottoms of the bars on the window, leaving the one on the farthest right intact. They would need it.

The rattle of the catflap alerted him to Fox's return. "Got it?" he asked without looking around. A muffled bark was his answer. "Good. Bring it over here."

Go here, go there, Fox grumbled as he got his head back inside Harry's pendant chain and spat out the coil of rope on the bed beside his brother. Do this, do that. Everybody bosses me around.

"That's right. Make sure everything's packed up? I wouldn't want to have to come back for a textbook or anything like that."

Yeth mathter. It wasn't easy for a fox to pretend to have a hunchback, but Fox managed it for a few steps before leaping off the bed just ahead of Harry's hand. Whatever you thay mathter.

A very few minutes later, a rope affixed to the one remaining bar in the window was trailing down to the ground outside number seventeen, Privet Drive, and nothing—apparently—was climbing down it. Wearing the Invisibility Cloak over his bag was a bit awkward, but with Moony's warning about Death Eaters, Harry wasn't minded to leave his back vulnerable for even the length of time it would take to descend a rope one story.

Which seems to have been a good idea, Fox commented from his perch in the bag. Junior Death Eaters, your six. Looks like the same three you caught picking on Graham that time. No, wait, there's one more now—

The pause after this was so long, and filled with so many confusing emotions, that Harry sent a general questioning feeling through the link. What's wrong? Can't you tell who the last one is?

Oh, I can tell all right. Fox's mental tone included a good helping of snicker. I just don't think they can. Don't shout…

The image flashed across the link as Harry's feet touched the ground, and he understood the warning. Even with it, he was hard put to keep from a yell, and considered himself lucky to get off with a sharp inhale. So what do we do now?

Personally? I'd say get behind a hedge and take the Cloak off, then poke your head out like you just sneaked out the door or something. Get their attention and see where we go from there.

Going to his knees beside one of the bushes which gave Privet Drive its name, Harry slipped out from under the Cloak. To quote a certain brother of mine: Yeth mathter.

A certain brother? Is he taller than me?

Harry was grinning as he got to his feet.

"Freeze, Potter," snapped Henderson, the closest of the three Slytherins to Harry's actual position. Carrow and Giorno, his usual compatriots, were coming from their places at the trot, all three wands out and trained on Harry. "Hands where I can see them."

Slowly, Harry brought his hands up, displaying them empty, then made a little twirling motion with his finger. Henderson scoffed. "Oh, right! Like I'm going to fall for that old thing! Turn around and let you get away—not likely!"

"You must think we're stupid," Carrow seconded, glaring at Harry. "Think we don't know you got that godfather of yours to kill Dursley for you, because you were afraid of him. You'll come with us to answer for that, and a lot more besides—Giorno, where's that Portkey we got off my uncle?"

"L—l—" stuttered Giorno, who had been the only one of the Slytherins to turn around at Harry's gesture.

"L—l? What's that supposed to mean?" Carrow turned bad-temperedly to follow his Housemate's line of sight, and his own eyes bulged. "L—li—"

"What's wrong with you two?" Henderson demanded. "What's an l-li any—"

Behind him, something growled, very softly for itself but still loud enough to make the earth tremble slightly.

Henderson spun in place, and his jaw dropped. "Li—li—"

"Lion?" Harry suggested.

Moony lifted his lips to display his teeth and growled again, this time adding in a hint of roar.

Was that Henderson or Carrow who screamed like a girl? Fox asked, peering out of Harry's bag to watch the Slytherins' rapidly retreating backs.

Not sure. Harry was grateful he didn't have to speak aloud. All his breath was currently occupied by laughing harder than he had the entire summer. Pretty sure it was Giorno who wet his robes, though.

Doesn't smell like the first time today, either…

The necessity of Harry's answering this was removed by Moony, who paced up to them solemnly and beckoned Fox with one claw. Fox jumped lightly down and crossed to Moony's side, and Harry recovered his breath and pulled himself upright just as the lion's paw patted the ground for the third time. A moment later, Draco shook himself all over, arching his back with a sigh of pleasure, as the human Moony smiled at both boys.

Harry started to kneel at his Pack-father's feet, Draco beside him, but Moony's hand on their shoulders stopped them both. "No," he said, his voice rough. "Not anymore."

Sensing something in the offing, Harry squared his shoulders. Draco held his head high, his face alight with anticipation.

"Children kneel to their parents to show their authority," Moony continued, his voice beginning to smooth though still catching every few words. "But you two did what was best for everyone these last two weeks, even when it was hard, even when it was painful. You did it not because you were told to, but because you knew you had to. Those are not the acts of children." His eyes glinted in the light from the lamp overhead. "You may not come of age by our laws for another year, but tonight I am proud to say that my sons…" He stopped to get his voice back under control before finishing. "My sons are men."

Someone had to have moved first, Harry knew, but he didn't think even replaying the memory would shed much light on the subject.

Better just call it a three-way tie. It all ends up the same way in any case—world's biggest Pack-hug ever enacted on Privet Drive.

"Let's get home," Moony said when they finally let each other go. "Danger and Sirius and Letha are already on their way. Letha…" He hesitated. "She isn't quite herself, but she's alive, and she's coming home. That's what matters."

"That, and she downed Voldemort," said Draco, grinning. "What was that Bludger made out of?"

Moony chuckled. "All the negative emotions we've had the last two weeks—or should I say you've had, since I don't remember a bit of them until a few minutes ago—and all the positive ones we wish we'd had, all wrapped up in a big confusing whole. A clever idea, though I doubt it will work twice…"

Still chattering about the things they had missed in their various exiles, the three wizards took firm hold of one another. With a loud crack, they were gone, and peace fell over Privet Drive once more.

  • Previous
  • Next

Author Notes:

Sorry about the long break, everybody. First I had something semi-exciting related to work, and then it fell through and I had the disappointment, and then a big upheaval at my actual job kept me hopping for the last few weeks, but I am back now and shall be trying to get back on the weekly schedule, so please give me encouragement!

Also, an advance announcement. Not now, but at the end of Facing Danger, I will be asking everyone who reads this story a very simple question: Would you, or would you not, buy an original novel of mine in e-book format for three dollars? You don't have to answer now, though you can if you want to, but at the end of FD I will ask all my readers, even those who don't usually review, to please just drop me a line with the answer to that question. It can be as simple as "Yes" or "No," it can be more elaborate—just please do answer, because (drumroll please)…

If I get a certain number of "Yes" responses, I will leave my job to focus on my writing.

So review the chapter now and think about that for later!

Oh yes, and the scene where Sirius punches Lucius is blatantly stolen, if slightly adapted, from the OotP movie. Couldn't resist.