Facing Danger
Chapter 6: Blood and Gold (Year 5)
By Anne B. Walsh
Chapter 6: Blood and Gold
"One of my better efforts, I think," said Alex, holding out the roll of parchment to Danger. "We can dispense with the special effects this time, since you already know where it’s coming from."
"Thank you ever so." Danger accepted the scroll and snapped her fingers. A chair trundled up behind her, and she sat down, already unrolling the parchment.
"Can she do that?" Alex asked the air. "I didn’t think she could do that."
Her attention focused on the lines, Danger barely heard him.
Seek black and white, for each holds part
Of answer that will gladden heart;
The lion’s son no harm shall take
From that which gold and red shall make.
The questioner unwelcomèd
May soon depart to clear her head,
But left alone, she will remain
And undeservèd places gain.
A flagging spirit must be fed;
Sing, then, O twin, of royal red,
And bring twofold rewards of glee
And necessary foolery.
The winter days bring sorrows all:
The once-endangered then shall fall;
The beast tries, as he said, to own,
And half-succeeds—but not alone.
Then flame shall rise to champion’s hand,
Alighting fires to cleanse the land,
For death and pain shall bring to light
The hidden, unacknowledged might.
He bows to fate, but not to yield;
He’ll use it to make fair the field.
And thus the path shall be begun
Which leads unto The Man Who Won.
"What do you think?" Danger asked, laying the parchment on her lap.
"I already told you," said Alex, brushing fussily at a crumb on his robe. "I think it’s rather good."
"I think she was asking me."
Alex jumped. "You walk too quietly," he accused Remus.
"You don’t pay attention." Remus sat down on the arm of Danger’s chair. "I think, that like the others, it will likely come true in its own time," he said, picking up the parchment to have a look through his own eyes. "The first two lines are in command form... something we have to do?"
"An answer to a problem of yours," Alex confirmed. "You’ll work it out, don’t worry. It may even come and find you."
"I like it when answers do that," said Danger, closing her eyes to concentrate on what Remus was seeing. "Then the next two lines are related to those. A reassurance, I’d say, that whatever we’re doing won’t hurt Harry."
Alex nodded, fiddling with the hem of his robe. "That’s all you really need for the moment," he said. "The rest doesn’t come into play until the fall. That gives you a month or so to sort it out."
"All right." Danger opened her eyes and accepted the parchment back from Remus, scanning the lines in earnest in preparation for committing them to memory. "If you’re sure."
"Would I lie to you?"
"Yes," Remus and Danger said together.
Alex shrugged. "What can I say? It’s a family failing."
xXxXx
Snow Fox crept down the hallway, ears pricked. The four Ravenclaw women had swooped down on Luna and carried her off as soon as they’d arrived, and she hadn’t been back since. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust them...
Yes, it is.
Shifting back to human form, Draco shrugged. People who’d been dead for a thousand years were bound to have different priorities than people who were still alive. He didn’t think the Ravenclaws would hurt Luna on purpose, but they might not realize that something they were doing was hurting her or making her unhappy.
Thus, I snoop.
He changed again and sniffed. They’d taken the next right... the second left...
Ah-ha!
Voices rose behind the closed door of a room.
"You’re getting closer, dear. Try it again."
"All right." Luna’s voice was shaky. "But it hurts when I try it."
Snow Fox growled deep in his throat, his fur beginning to bush out.
"Yes, it does hurt. But it will hurt much more if you don’t do it properly. Now, draw yourself in. Make all of you enclosed within your skin."
What? Even Draco’s human form couldn’t make much sense out of that. How can you be out of your skin? It’s what keeps you inside you in the first place.
"Don’t forget up here, Luna. Draw it all in evenly."
"I can’t do it all at once!" Luna cried. "It’s too hard!"
"You must learn how." Rowena Ravenclaw’s voice was unmistakable. "You’ve made a good beginning, but it will be worthless if you don’t progress. Release and try again. This is too uneven."
Luna’s sigh said more of her frustration than another girl’s scream would have. "Yes, ma’am," she said wearily.
"And you stay where you are, young man," Rowena’s voice arrested Draco in the act of leaping to his feet. "If you want to come into this room, you come politely. Knock on the door and ask for admittance."
Draco clenched his teeth briefly, then walked across the hallway and knocked three times on the door. "May I come in?" he called.
Sophia Ravenclaw opened the door. "You may," she said, stepping aside.
Draco knelt beside Luna, who was seated cross-legged on a cushion on the floor, and wrapped his arms around her. "Is it bad?" he asked in her ear.
"Some of it," Luna answered into his collar. "But they’re right, Draco. I do need to learn this. If I’d known it before, I could have stopped myself seeing the bad things as soon as I understood them, so that I didn’t always have to watch them. It just makes me very tired, and I feel as if I’ll never get it."
"Everyone learning something new feels that way," said Margaret, sitting down beside them. "You felt that way yourself when you were learning Animagus, didn’t you, Draco?"
Draco eyed her. "You know too much," he accused.
"An occupational hazard. Do you perhaps have a question for us?"
"Why should I bother to tell you? You already know."
"There are rules about these sorts of things, Draco Black," Brenna chided. "We can only answer the question you ask. And that requires that you ask one."
Luna nestled closer to Draco, and he stroked her hair. "What Luna Saw about us, while her Seeing was out of control," he said. "Will that really happen?"
"It will." Rowena’s face was impassive. "Everything that she Saw will come to pass."
The chill around Draco’s heart deepened a few degrees, and his arms tightened around Luna. "I thought the future was changeable until it happened," he said. "I thought that’s why Seeing was so unreliable."
"It is, in both instances," said Sophia, seating herself next to her sister. "But in this case, two wildly different possibilities converge in that moment. It will happen. We know this."
"What we do not know," Brenna added, "is what it means. Or what will happen after it, or, to some degree, before."
"You don’t know what’s going to happen before it? Really?" Draco laughed a short, humorless laugh. "I think I could tell you that."
"You could. But what would you or we profit by it?" Rowena looked across the room at them, her face softening slightly. "Do not despair, child," she said. "You will have fullness in your life, no matter its length. The love that binds you reaches beyond such petty things."
Draco stared at her for a moment. "I never thought I’d hear anyone call death petty," he said.
Rowena smiled. "Having experienced it does change one’s outlook somewhat."
xXxXx
Albus Dumbledore arrived at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, early the next morning, and sought out Corona Gamp and Brian Li. "I understand there was a disturbance in Diagon Alley yesterday," he said.
"That’s putting it mildly, Headmaster," Corona said. "Though I admit I was grateful for it."
"So was I." Brian chuckled. "You couldn’t have ordered two sets of people more likely to annoy each other."
Dumbledore leaned back in his chair. "Tell me more."
"We had been around Muggle London, to see the sights and the people," Corona began. "And we thought we would stop for something to eat before we came back here."
"So we went to Diagon Alley," Brian picked up. "And we were sitting outside at Florean Fortescue’s when two witches came running up behind Corona, one older and one younger..."
xXxXx
"Corona!"
Corona stiffened. "Oh no," she breathed, turning.
"There you are!" Sempronia Gamp descended upon her granddaughter. "Dear Corona, we’ve been so worried! Has he hurt you? Are you under some compulsion to return to him? We will make him pay double for every injury and slight..."
"Grandmother, what are you talking about?" Corona freed herself from her grandmother’s embrace. "No one has hurt me, or put me under compulsion. Why would you think such a thing?"
"Because I told her so." Elladora stepped out from behind Grandmother, her head lifted proudly. "It came to me shortly after my failure to stop you from leaving with him. The only reason for such a failure—and for your agreeing to go with him in the first place—is a coercive spell, likely one of a subtle nature. The sooner you come home, the sooner we can find it and remove it."
Corona swallowed a desperate desire to laugh and gathered her dignity. "Grandmother, sister, please, sit down with us," she said, waving to the empty seats at the table. "I would introduce you to a new friend of mine, and speech is more comfortable when all are seated. I believe there is much I must explain to you."
"You need explain nothing, my dear Corona," said Grandmother firmly. "We understand that it was not your fault in the least, and no stigma will attach to you as long as you come home immediately."
"Grandmother, that is part of what I must explain. Please, will you sit down?"
"If you insist, child. For a moment." Grandmother’s expression and tone combined to give the impression that Corona was five years old and demanding more time in the sweetshop.
Brian rose quickly to pull out a chair for Grandmother. His eyes met Corona’s as he did. Courage, the unspoken message passed between them. You are not alone.
Elladora drew out her own chair and sat down in it. "And who might you be?" she asked brusquely.
"My name is Brian Li, and I am honored to meet two such lovely ladies," Brian said easily. "Corona has told me only a little about her family. I hope to learn more from your own lips."
"Li," Grandmother mused. "Is your family recently come to our fair isles?"
"My mother and father were born here, madam, but their parents were not. I believe that is recent enough to count as such."
"It is. And your bloodline?"
"My..."
"Are you pureblooded, or do you have Muggles in your background?" Grandmother clarified. "I will not permit my granddaughter to fraternize with mongrels."
Corona had to put her hand over her mouth, recalling the breakfast table. Elladora shot her a suspicious look.
"My parents were magical, as were their parents," Brian said cautiously.
"Excellent." Grandmother was practically purring. "I will give you our direction, so that you know where you may call as soon as Corona is restored to herself..."
"There he is!" shouted a hoarse voice from across the street.
Brian’s shoulders went up, and his jaw clenched. "I apologize to you, ladies, for what you may witness in the next few moments," he said, standing.
"So you’ve finally come out of hiding, Li," sneered the man who swaggered out of the crowd. He was of medium height, rather thin, with scars marking his face in several places. At his shoulder lingered a short, burly man with a dangerous look in his eye, likewise scarred. Elladora wrinkled her nose and edged her chair away from them. Grandmother was staring, aghast.
"Not with any interest in taking your offer," Brian said quietly. "Simply to enjoy an afternoon with a new friend."
"A new friend?" The taller man eyed the three women contemptuously.
"Her sister and grandmother have joined us unexpectedly. Now if you will excuse me, we were in the middle of a conversation."
"And what if I don’t want to excuse you?" A nasty smile curled the man’s lip. "What if I want to have a conversation with you? I think I outrank them, don’t you?"
"How dare you say that!" Grandmother shouted, rising to her feet. "My granddaughters and I are pureblooded members of the House of Gamp! We bow to no one, and this young man is a prospective ally of ours! Leave at once, before I summon the authorities!"
"The authorities aren’t very interested in people like us, old witch," the man said, smirking at her. "And you’d bow to me in my world. You’d be nothing but food, there." He looked her over. "I probably wouldn’t even take you. You’re too stringy and bony."
Grandmother’s complexion was turning mottled purple.
"So this is how Sirius Black treats the women he kidnaps," Elladora said coldly. "Not even a day after ravishing them away from home and family, he hands them over to inhuman creatures to be devoured."
"I don’t know about Sirius Black, but you have the other bit right, miss pureblood," the man said, bowing mockingly to Elladora. "Li’s no human, though he may pretend."
Brian closed his eyes for a moment, and Corona watched well-worn resignation pass over his features. A tight restraint within her chest, one she had worked on all her life, broke at the sight.
"Enough!" She was on her feet, her wand in her hand, pointed straight at the two men. "Go away! Take your filthy lies and your filthy selves elsewhere!"
Brian’s eyes flew open. Surprise warred with gratitude and something else Corona feared to name, before all was wiped away by a careful serenity. "Ladies, I’m afraid you’re mistaken about Corona," he said, turning to Elladora and Grandmother. "She came away from your home of her own free will, and if she comes home, it will be because she wants to, not because you bring her."
"Go now, before I find out if you still bleed red," Corona snarled at the men.
"I would suggest you leave this to us, unless you care for fighting," Brian counseled the women.
The shorter man, who had been silent all this time, backed up a pace, then stopped as the taller man growled under his breath. "I hope you like fear, girl," he said, his eyes boring hatred into Corona. "You won’t live a day without it if you stay with Li."
"I wish you joy of my granddaughter," Grandmother snapped. "Selfish, heartless bitch that she is."
Brian’s expression changed not at all, and Corona kept her own face still. After a long moment, the two werewolves backed away, keeping their eyes on Corona’s wand until they had several people between them and her. Corona watched them around the corner, then relaxed.
Elladora stood up and went to Grandmother’s side, taking the old woman’s arm. "This may be the last time we see each other, sister," she said to Corona. "I hope you find happiness in your choice."
"As do I for you." Corona lowered her wand. "May you find what you seek."
"May you also."
"Enough," Grandmother snapped. "You will not speak to her again, Elladora. You will forget that you ever had a sister. She is outcast, as low as the filth she consorts with. Let us go home."
Corona sank weakly into her chair and watched her past walk away from her. "All bonds are broken, all ties unbound," she whispered, reciting part of the Outcasting that had come down through the centuries in pureblood society. "She never was, and is no more, and will be never again."
"I’m sorry." Brian seated himself across from her. "I wish that hadn’t happened. Either part of it." A smile worked its way reluctantly onto his features. "Though I think it’s rather ironic that both our pasts caught up with us at the same moment."
"Ironic. Yes." Corona began to smile as well. "You could call it ironic." The smile grew larger. "Or you could call it utterly ridiculous."
"That works as well as anything."
They met each other’s eyes for one moment, then broke into helpless laughter.
xXxXx
"Yet despite their actions, you will miss your family," Dumbledore said to Corona.
"Of course. I still love my sister, and as much as I hate what my grandmother wants from me, I can understand it. In her world, the only possible interpretations of my actions are heartless and selfish." She looked around at the room where they sat. "I sought a wider world."
"Wise of you." Dumbledore met Corona’s eyes and held them for a long moment. When they looked away, Corona was blinking hard, as to hold back tears, but Dumbledore was smiling.
"Are you all right?" Brian asked anxiously, passing Corona a tissue.
"Yes, I’m fine." Corona dabbed at her eyes. "I was just... I mean..." She shook her head. "Never mind."
Dumbledore rose to cross to them. "Allow me to be the first to welcome you, Miss Gamp, to our side of the war," he said quietly when he was close enough for her to hear. "The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London."
Corona’s eyes widened as this information sank in.
"Would you like me to explain, sir?" Brian asked, a hint of challenge in his dark eyes.
"If you would be so kind."
Dumbledore did not smile again, or even look as though he might, until he had left the room, when he allowed himself the luxury of chuckling.
Young men are so touchy about their dignity.
Then he went in search of the adults of the Pack.
xXxXx
"Two ideas?" Aletha said. "You have been busy."
"One of them is not mine," Dumbledore admitted. "Severus Snape originated it, but I believe it has merit."
"Don’t worry," said Sirius, raising a hand. "I’m through rejecting anything he came up with just because he came up with it."
"Yes, you’ll listen to it and find some other reason to reject it," Danger said.
Sirius grinned with no trace of self-consciousness. "She knows me so well."
"We’re listening, Albus," said Remus, raising his eyebrows at Sirius and shooting Danger a mental Behave yourself.
"Severus’ idea is that he, in his role as Voldemort’s spy, should tell Voldemort about Harry’s strange experiences and dreams," Dumbledore began. "He will lay emphasis on the fact that I am interested in them—which I am, but not for the reasons Voldemort will assume."
Aletha frowned. "Voldemort will think you want to know what he’s thinking," she said.
"Yes, and for that reason, he will likely block off the connection between himself and Harry, to deprive me of this source of information. It will accomplish our goal immediately, without endangering Harry’s health."
"Key word there," said Sirius. "Likely. Voldemort’s never been one for likely. He’s unpredictable, and for all we know, he’s got some way to hear every word we say." He raised his voice a little. "In which case, up yours, Snakeface."
Danger snickered.
"He does have his spies, as we have ours," Dumbledore conceded. "But I know who his spy in the Order is, and I shall continue to take precautions against him, as I did in the matter of bringing the children safely here."
"Precautions including not telling us who he is?" Aletha asked.
"I would not want you to act differently around him. That will tell Voldemort immediately that his spy has been found, and that above all I wish to avoid."
"Because as long as you know about the spy, and he doesn’t know you know, he won’t put in another one that you’d have to find out about," Danger said.
"Precisely." Dumbledore nodded. "Simply do not share information with anyone you have not been instructed to, and things should go well enough."
"We got off track," Remus said. "Sirius brought up a good point, Albus. What happens if Voldemort decides to strike back at Harry rather than blocking himself off? He’s always believed in attacking rather than defending, and Harry’s Occlumency is starting to come along, but it’s still very shaky. He can’t even stop these little, unintentional invasions—he couldn’t possibly repel one with Voldemort’s full strength and will behind it."
"That is true. Which brings us to my idea—which, sadly, is not truly mine either." Dumbledore sighed, but his eyes were twinkling. "I was visited by an old friend last night, a friend I believe we have in common. A lovely lady named Maura."
"Yes, we know Maura," Aletha said. "What did she have to say?"
"A great many things with which I shall not bore you, mostly dealing with my mental capacity and my age. One thing greatly to the point. ‘Not everything in life must be permanent.’"
"Very philosophical," Sirius said. "Not very helpful, unless, as always, I’m missing something."
"If you’re missing it, I’m missing it too," said Danger. "Albus, what exactly doesn’t need to be permanent here... wait a second, do you mean what I think you mean?"
"I believe it would address Aletha’s objection." Dumbledore sketched a bow towards her.
"Is there some way to do that, though?" Aletha looked skeptical. "That serious a thing, can it be done on a temporary basis?"
"It can. It will entail more paraphernalia than the permanent form, but Harry wears his pendants constantly in any case."
"The temporary form involves linking it to an amulet, doesn’t it?" Remus said. "So that Harry would have it when he wears the amulet, and lose it when he takes it off."
"Yes."
Sirius sighed. "Would somebody please just give me a hint of what we’re talking about?" he said plaintively.
"I don’t know if you’ve heard about it yet," Remus said. "A blood-bond between me and Harry, to counteract the one he has with Voldemort."
"That’s a good thing..." Sirius’ eyes narrowed. "But it’d give him lupus, wouldn’t it? Like Danger has?"
"We think so. That’s Aletha’s main objection to it."
"Do you mind if I join you?" Sirius asked his wife, waiting only for her nod before turning back to Remus. "You’re out of your mind. What could possibly be worth that?"
"Voldemort couldn’t touch him mentally if we went through with it," Remus snapped. "Or maybe you’d rather he blood-bond with Snape. That was suggested as well."
Sirius rocked back on his heels. "Blood-bond... with..."
"Told you he wouldn’t like it," Danger said.
"But what Albus has just suggested makes sense," Remus said, pressing Danger’s hand to calm himself. "If Harry and I place blood in a locket, with the right spells, we’ll be bonded so long as he wears that locket. And he’ll have lupus for just that long. As soon as he doesn’t need the bond anymore—when he’s learned Occlumency, or when the war’s over, or whatever happens—he can take it off and destroy it. No more bond, no more lupus." His voice acquired a trace of bitterness. "Is that good enough for you?"
Sirius, recovered from his shock, snorted in exasperation. "Remus, you know it’s not you I’m objecting to. I just don’t want Harry sick."
"And you also don’t want to be supplanted," said Aletha. "And somewhere in your irrational mind, you’re afraid that’s exactly what might happen."
"Am not," Sirius said automatically, frowning in thought.
"He is," said Aletha, nodding. "He just has to come to the conclusion himself."
Sirius gave her a dirty look.
xXxXx
Ginny set the Order of Merlin, First Class, presented to one of Mr. Padfoot’s ancestors aside. "I don’t think he’ll want it, but we should ask," she said.
"Photograph Quidditch!" Fred called, grabbing two photographs off the shelf. "George, Keep for me!"
George grabbed the rubbish sack and spread it wide, waggling it back and forth irregularly. Fred charged at his twin, followed his fakes for a second, then dived at him and smashed the photographs into the sack, ignoring the squeals from the frames’ occupants. "Ha-ha! Twenty points to Gryffindor!"
"My turn," George said, handing the sack off to Fred. "Ron, toss me one!"
The photographs lasted long enough for everyone to have a turn throwing. "What’s this?" Neville asked after his turn, opening the lid of a small box.
A tune tinkled out, slow and winding. Everyone stopped what they were doing, sitting down to listen. Even Mum was sitting, covering a yawn with her hand. Ginny felt a wave of lassitude. It would be so nice to rest, to lie down and sleep...
Oh no you don’t. Ginny pinched herself hard, reached over, and slammed the lid of the box shut. Everyone blinked and stared around at each other.
"I don’t think we’ll listen to that again," said Hermione, tossing the box into the sack.
Ron lifted a large, ornate locket from the shelf. "Got a snake engraved on it," he said, peering at it.
"Like everything else around here," said Draco. "Open it, see who’s inside."
Ron fiddled with the catch for a few moments, then shook his head. "It won’t open. You try."
Draco took the locket and likewise tried the catch. "I think it’s jammed," he said. "Either that, or it’s magically shut. Anyone else want a go? Luna?" He held it out to her.
Luna’s eyes widened more than Ginny had ever seen before. "Draco, I think you should put that down right now," she said quietly.
"Why? Is something wrong with it?"
"Yes."
Draco set the locket on the floor and backed away warily. "Now what?" he said. "Is it going to go off?"
"I don’t know." Luna closed in, staying two paces from the locket at all times. "I don’t know what I’m Seeing, but I don’t like it."
"Do you think a bit of magic would set it off, Luna dear?" Mum asked.
Luna considered, then shook her head.
Mum drew her wand and levitated the locket, moving it to a back table and conjuring a glass dome over it. "That should keep people away from it, until you have some time to figure it out," she said. "Let’s keep going."
Ginny smiled to herself. Nothing flustered her mum for long.
"I wonder what’s keeping Harry," Hermione said as they continued to pull items off the shelves. "I know the Pack-parents wanted to talk to him, but I didn’t think it would take this long."
Meghan went to the door to get a fresh sack, since even with Mum’s wizardspace improvements (or would that be witchspace, Ginny wondered whimsically), they were starting to run out of room in this one. "Here he comes!" she called, disappearing around the corner.
Ginny went to the door. Harry looked as if a star had fallen on him and he hadn’t adjusted to it yet, but he was responding to Meghan rationally. "It’s all right," he said, holding out his hand to her. "It’s not him. It’s safe."
Meghan grasped his hand, then moved in to hug him tightly. Over her shoulder, Harry’s lips moved.
Ginny blinked. It might never be him again? What does that mean?
Meghan pulled away, and Harry smiled at her. "That always makes me feel better," he said. "Thanks, Pearl."
"You’re welcome." Meghan squeezed his hand, then danced back up the corridor and slipped past Ginny into the room.
"Hey, Ginny," Harry said, following his sister.
"Hi, Harry. You look confused."
"I am confused. Hoping you can help me sort it out."
"Me?"
"Well, everyone, but everyone includes you, so yes, you." Harry turned to Mum. "Mrs. Weasley, can I steal the Pride for a little while? Something’s come up."
"Yes, go ahead. We’re nearly finished here, the twins and I can take care of the rest. Send your parents up here if you happen to see them, and Luna when you’re finished, there’s something we need to take care of specially."
"What’s that?" Harry asked Luna as she passed.
Luna shrugged, then stopped, looking speculatively at Harry’s forehead.
"Look, Luna, it’s bad enough when everyone else does it," Harry said in exasperation. "Do you have to?"
"Maybe." Luna was still staring. "Harry, do you know what Voldemort used to look like?"
"You mean when he was young, about our age?"
"A little older than that, but yes. Before he got scary."
"Ginny and I saw a memory of him in the Chamber of Secrets," Harry said. "He was sixteen there, I think."
Ginny nodded. "He had dark hair and a strong face," she said. "He was handsome, but frightening."
"But he didn’t frighten everyone he saw," Harry said. "He couldn’t have, not and get away with pretending to be just an innocent kid."
"Maybe he didn’t bother to wear his ‘ordinary person’ mask with us," Ginny said. "He was trying to frighten us, to flaunt how strong a wizard he was, that he could bind a memory into a diary and have it last there for fifty years." She frowned. "How would you do that, anyway? Most spells fade over time, but that one didn’t."
Harry shrugged. "The Map still works," he said. "Is that what you need to know, Luna?"
"Sort of. We can talk more later. What’s bothering you, Harry?"
"You know, that’s going to get annoying," Harry said, starting down the hall towards the stairs. "If you can see everything that’s wrong."
"I won’t tell anyone. Just the Pride."
"That’s bad enough," Harry muttered. Ginny chose to pretend she hadn’t heard.
Ron locked the door of the Pride’s Den behind him and took his place in the circle on the floor. "Spill, Harry," he said, putting his wand away. "What happened?"
"It’s not what happened, Ron." Harry had his hands in front of his face and was flexing the fingers, staring at them as if memorizing them. "It’s what could happen."
Ginny listened carefully, shaping the situation as she might a statue she was copying from life. Here was the predicament—Harry’s mind linked to Voldemort’s, to the extent that Harry had been having dreams where he was Voldemort, along with dreams that smelled like Voldemort but consisted only of long windowless corridors ending in locked doors. Here were possible solutions—Harry learning Occlumency, Voldemort choosing to block the connection himself, Harry blood-bonding with Mr. Moony—and here were the problems with those solutions...
And that’s where it gets really complicated.
"I’m starting to get the hang of Occlumency, but every time I think I have it, it gets away from me," Harry was saying. "It’s just that it takes a couple seconds longer to get away now. At this rate, I might be able to keep Voldemort out of my mind for a full minute by the end of this year."
Ginny noted in passing that Ron hardly shivered at the name.
"I don’t like the sound of Voldemort finding out about the connection," Hermione said. "It sounds much too dangerous. What if he decides that it would be worth more to go digging in your head?"
"That’s why Snape’s not doing anything until Dumbledore says he can," said Harry.
"Snape came up with that, didn’t he?" said Neville.
"Yes, and don’t even start. I don’t like Snape either, but if he told Dumbledore he wouldn’t do something, then he won’t."
"Unless he’s gone back over to You-Know..."
Harry and Hermione fixed Ron with a double glare.
"Oh, all right. To Voldemort. Happy now?"
"Some," said Harry. "I’ll be even happier when you do it without us having to look at you."
"But my point hasn’t changed, Harry. What if Snape’s back on the Dark side? What if he suggested this so... Voldemort can have a bloody good rummage in your head?"
"What’s he going to find out?"
"That you’re an Animagus," said Draco. "That we’re all Animagi here, or well on the way." He nodded to Meghan. "That the other three Founders all have Heirs in our group—don’t you think he might like knowing that?"
Meghan laughed suddenly. "I just thought of something," she said. "Do you realize Voldemort used Gryffindor blood to come back to life?"
"Huh." Harry smiled. "The Heir of Slytherin has Gryffindor blood."
"It sounds like an advertising slogan," said Draco. "New and Improved Heir of Slytherin! Now with Gryffindor Blood!"
When the Pride was done laughing at that, Harry finished his story, explaining what he’d found out just today. "So now I have to decide what I want to do," he wrapped up. "If I take the blood bond, even if it’s temporary, I will have lupus while I’m wearing the amulet. Letha knows some of the potions I can take to help with the symptoms, but I’d still be sick."
"But Voldemort couldn’t get into your mind at all," said Neville.
"Not at all," Harry agreed.
"Even if he knew about the connection, it wouldn’t make any difference," said Hermione.
"Right."
"And you’d stop being sick as soon as you ended the bond, or took off the amulet," Luna said.
"Yes."
"Would there be any permanent damage?" Meghan asked. "Would you get better after the bond was over? Or don’t you know?"
Harry shrugged. "No one’s ever done this before, so they don’t know for sure. But Danger got her prophecy last night, and these are the first four lines here. She thought they might be about this." He took a scroll out of his pocket. "Have a look." He passed it to Hermione, and she read the lines aloud.
"Black could mean Professor Snape," said Neville musingly. "And white, Professor Dumbledore. Each of them has part of the answer that will make us happy."
Ginny’s mind pounced on a possible answer to the other two colors. "You’d wear it on your pendant chain, wouldn’t you?" she asked Harry, who nodded. "Then you’d probably use a gold locket to match, and blood is red. That’s what gold and red will make. The amulet." She held out her hand, and Hermione gave her the prophecy. A quick look found the place she wanted. "And here. The lion’s son no harm shall take. That’s you, Harry. This means it won’t hurt you."
Harry’s grin flashed out. "Ginny, I need to ask you things more often," he said.
"What am I, dragon dung?" Neville asked the room at large.
"No, but you’re not nearly as cute as she is."
Ginny felt her face heat. Can’t hide it. Might as well play it up. "Oh, Harry," she said in a trembling falsetto. "You think I’m cute. Shall I faint at your feet now?"
"No thank you." Harry held out his hand to ward her off. "I have enough girls do that, thanks. I don’t want you there too."
"Oh, come on, Harry," Draco objected. "No girl’s ever really fainted at your feet."
"They were coming close before the Yule Ball."
"And if they’d thought it would work, they would have tried it," Hermione added. "But Harry doesn’t go for helpless damsels in distress."
"Well, I don’t know," Harry said. "I don’t like seeing damsels in distress, but I don’t think I’m quite ready to see them out of dis dress."
Everyone groaned, and the impromptu den disintegrated into a bad joke session.
"What did you see on the locket, Luna?" Neville finally asked when the Pride had worn themselves out laughing. "Is it cursed?"
"I don’t know. I see..." Luna scowled. "I wish you could all see it too," she said. "I can’t think of the right words to tell you about it."
"So show us," said Meghan, reaching over and hooking Luna’s chain out of her robes. "Put it on us, and take us there."
Luna closed her eyes for a second. "I feel silly now," she announced.
"Don’t worry, we love you anyway," said Harry. "In the most proper of senses, of course," he added hastily at Draco’s glare.
Within moments, they were within Luna’s memory of the drawing room. Everything seemed to have an aura around it, or a second shadow, Ginny noticed. Even Meghan was beginning to show the shape of a graceful, slim-legged deer. She’s only two spells away from Animagus, I think...
"Anyone else want a go?" asked memory-Draco, the fox-shadow behind him flickering as he turned. "Luna?" He held out the locket.
Luna froze the scene. "Do you see?" she asked, pointing to it.
Ginny felt her lips peel back off her teeth. The locket had its own aura. A wavering man-shape stood between memory-Draco and the Pride.
"I can’t see its face," she murmured aloud. "It’s like it keeps changing."
"It does keep changing," Harry said coldly. "But I’ve seen two of the things it’s changing between. It’s him." He took a step closer and stared up at the man. "It’s Voldemort."
Meghan shivered. "I knew Dadfoot’s family was Dark," she murmured, "but why would something of Voldemort’s be here?"
"It doesn’t make sense," Hermione said, shaking her head. "Padfoot’s parents thought Voldemort had the right idea, but they were never Death Eaters, and his brother Regulus was, but he tried to leave. Voldemort wouldn’t have given him anything important—or if he had, he would have come and taken it back, after Regulus got killed."
"Mother liked Regulus," Draco said, his voice tentative, as if he wasn’t sure of what he was saying. "Father didn’t want me named after him, but Mother said he’d picked my first name and she should be allowed to pick my middle. They argued for a long time. Mother won. She always did, if it was something important."
"And she turned out good, in the end," Ron said thoughtfully. "She probably wouldn’t have liked anyone who was really bad."
"Besides, he tried to leave." Ginny walked around the memory-figure, watching the shape of Voldemort change blink by blink, from the boy she remembered from the Chamber, to a young man with hunger in his eyes, to an older man with pale skin and a strangely flat nose, to a red-eyed monster with slits for nostrils. "Regulus tried to get out. So he can’t have been all bad."
"Did he try to get out just to get out, I wonder?" Harry said, joining Ginny beside Voldemort. "Or did he run because he had to?"
"Sorry?" said Draco.
"If you steal my homework and I find out, what’s the first thing you do?"
"I run... oh."
"You think Regulus stole this from Voldemort?" asked Ron, hardly hesitating over the name at all, though he wasn’t looking directly at the figure.
"It has to have been his at some point," Neville said. "But why can Luna see him in it? Did he love it that much?"
An idea flickered in Ginny’s mind. "Neville, the ring you gave up for the Pride-pendants," she said. "It had an H on it, and it was your dad’s..."
Neville laughed briefly. "He was a little mad when he heard what I did with it, but when he found out what these do, he understood."
"But why was he mad?" Ginny pressed. "Why was that ring so important?"
"It was Helga Hufflepuff’s. It came down in our family."
"So at least one thing survived from the days of the Founders," Ginny said.
"Two," said Harry. "That sword I pulled out of the Sorting Hat. And three, if you count the Hat itself."
"What are you getting at, Ginny?" asked Hermione.
"A reason for Voldemort to love this locket," Ginny said. "Luna, can you back this up a little? To where Ron was talking?"
The memory figures moved quickly backwards several steps, then reanimated. "Got a snake on it," Ron said, peering at the locket he’d just lifted from the shelf.
"That’s what I thought you said." Ginny smiled in satisfaction. "And we all know who could talk to snakes."
"You think this might have been Slytherin’s," said Luna, looking at the locket dubiously. "That would be a reason Voldemort would love it, but I don’t think that’s all of it."
"Isn’t that enough?"
"I have an idea," Neville announced. "Can we get out of here?"
"Remigribus," said Luna, and the memory scene blinked out. There was a brief feeling of flying through lightning-filled skies, and then Ginny was wincing at the tingling of her very real feet, which had fallen asleep while she was elsewhere.
When everyone could walk again, Neville led them back to the drawing room. The Pride gathered around the table where the glass dome covered the innocent-looking locket.
"Can anyone get through this?" Neville asked, rapping on it with his knuckles.
"Maybe," said Hermione, frowning. "I could try a Cutting Spell, but I don’t know if that would work or if it would just break it..."
"We can always fix it again," said Ron.
"I hate to break up a good discussion," said Harry, "but have any of you considered this?" He put his hand against the dome and pushed. It slid across the table’s surface. Draco, on the other side, hooked his fingers under it and lifted. Luna and Hermione, on either side of him, caught it smoothly as it turned over, and the three of them together set it down on the floor.
"We can put it back when we’re done," Harry said. "No one will ever know."
"Unless we tell them." Neville took Meghan’s hand in his. "I don’t think you’ll like this," he said. "But will you still do it, please? For us?"
Meghan made a small gesture with her free hand. Ginny hid her smile. For you, she says. How are they ever going to wait until she’s seventeen?
Neville was reaching out now, Meghan’s hand still joined in his. Together, they lowered their hands over the locket, Meghan’s skin touching a part of the chain, Neville’s the smooth metal of the locket itself.
Both of them jerked back as if they’d been burned. Meghan made a little mew of distress and shook her hand hard. "Slimy," she said with a shudder, then looked around at the Pride. "Whatever that is, it’s not normal," she said firmly. "There’s some nasty magic on there, and I don’t want to be anywhere near it."
"Then you won’t be," said Harry, nodding to Draco, who bent to pick up the half-globe. "Neville?"
Neville nodded. "What Meghan said," he agreed. "Except I’ve felt something like this before. It wasn’t so strong, or maybe it was strong in a different way. But the only other thing I’ve ever touched that felt like this was Tom Riddle’s diary." He smiled across at Ginny. "And I wouldn’t have thought of that if you hadn’t brought it up."
Harry caught the other side of the dome. Ginny stepped up quickly to help him, placing her hands on the curve of the dome rather than under its lip, slowing its progress with friction. Harry nodded thanks to her as the dome settled smoothly back into place. "So it definitely belonged to Voldemort," he said. "And he did something complicated to it, possibly something like the diary. Do you think there might be a memory in this too?"
The Pride looked at the locket, lying innocently beneath its sheltering glass.
"I think we need to tell the Pack-parents about this," said Hermione.
"I think you’re right," said Harry.
The Pride filed out of the room. Ginny closed the door behind her, resisting the urge to look back at the locket one more time. It was under glass, and she’d never touched it. It couldn’t hurt her. She was safe here.
"Oh, there you are!" Mum came bustling up the stairs. "We’ve been looking all over for you. I have some good news, Ron, Ginny. Percy’s coming to dinner tonight!"
"Er, great," said Ron feebly. He leaned back to Ginny. "Move to keep him out of the drawing room," he muttered as Mum went past.
"Seconded. All in favor say aye."
"Aye," said eight voices.
"Vote is unanimous," Ginny droned. "Motion carried."
"Bet Percy’d love to hear that," said Ron with a nervous grin.
"Oh, and Harry, I have a message for you," said Mum, popping back into sight at the end of the hall. "Your parents want to know if you’ve decided yet. They’re down in the kitchen."
"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley." Harry looked at the Pride. "I’m doing it," he said.
"All in favor say aye," said Ginny promptly.
Harry tried to say something, but was drowned out by the chorus of seven "Aye"s.
"It’s not a vote," Ginny said, having been close enough to hear the gist of Harry’s protest. "We’re just telling you we approve."
"Oh. Thank you, then."
"Good luck, Harry," said Hermione, moving up to hug him. Meghan latched on from the other side, and Draco stroked his cheek before shaking Harry’s hand in the special pattern Ginny had noticed they only used with each other. Ron gave Harry a brief hug, then ducked back as if embarrassed, and Neville shook his hand firmly and grinned at him.
Then Luna stepped up and kissed his cheek. "For luck," she said as Harry blushed and the other boys chuckled. Hermione hid a smile, and Meghan giggled. "Because I can’t do it the other way."
Ginny got a firm grip on her emotions. "More luck is always good," she said, and stepped around Harry to his other cheek.
Harry turned his head to watch her move.
Ginny pulled back not quite in time, as her lips brushed his.
She caught a hasty breath and pulled in a random memory, one of being backstage before the performance of Joseph. "Break a leg, Harry," she whispered, looking anywhere but at him.
"Thanks. I will."
Was it her imagination, Ginny wondered, or did his voice sound faintly flustered?
She didn’t look up until Harry’s footsteps changed from the hollow thuds of the stair treads to the softer thumping on the threadbare carpet below in the hall.
Six people were doing their best to look somewhere else.
"Move that never happened," Ginny said as firmly as she could manage.
"Seconded," said Hermione quickly. "All in favor."
"Aye," said five voices together.
"Motion carried," Ginny said, breathing a silent sigh of relief.
"If it never happened, does that mean we’re not allowed to talk about it?" said Ron wistfully.
Hermione hit him.
xXxXx
Harry used his dagger to peel another shaving of pine off the wood chip. "Enough?" he asked Moony.
"Two more that size, and I think you’re good." Moony looked critically at his pile of dogwood, then set his own knife aside and started to measure drops of potion into the golden bowl. "We’re lucky to have Aletha here," he said, frowning at his work. "We can trust her to brew correctly, even if she doesn’t agree with what the potion will be used for."
"She probably did it to get you to stop talking about it," Harry said.
"Probably," Moony agreed. "Now if I’d brewed these, I’d be the first one to tell you not to go through with this."
"And I’d be the first one to take your advice. You or Padfoot." Harry finished the second shaving, set the pine aside, and blew the dust off his dagger, then sneezed.
"Don’t put that away yet," Moony said without looking up. "We need these both chopped fine."
"Separately or together?"
"Separately. Let’s not mix them before they need to be mixed."
"I should use your knife for the dogwood, then."
"Good thinking."
Moony finished measuring the two potions at the same time Harry chopped the last shaving into splinters. The two wizards looked at each other.
"Ready?" Moony asked hoarsely.
Harry swallowed. "As I’ll ever be."
Moony pulled up his left sleeve. "Of my own free will do I give this blood," he said, nicking the skin of his forearm near the elbow with Harry’s dagger. "I give it for this binding and for this binding only. So I speak, so I intend."
"So let it be done," Harry said softly. He closed his hand around Moony’s, and together they held the dagger high over the saucer. Three drops of blood dripped from its point to mix with the two potions.
Moony let go of the dagger and drew his wand. "Scourgify," he muttered, cleaning the blade, then pointed the wand at his arm and conjured a bandage for it. Harry took the opportunity to gulp. Here we go...
He placed the point of the dagger against his skin. "Of my own free will do I give this blood," he repeated, surprised at how little the cut on his arm hurt. "I give it for this binding and this binding only." Blood welled onto the blade, and he pulled it away, worried that it might be too much. "So I speak, so I intend."
"So let it be done," Moony said, lifting his hand to place it around Harry’s on the dagger, holding it over the saucer together. Three drops fell, then Harry lowered the dagger, and Moony released his grip to clean its blade once more.
Harry sheathed the dagger and looked up. From beneath the table, Moony had produced a tiny gold locket, devoid of chain, and was just now placing it into the potion-blood mixture.
Harry took a deep breath to calm himself. One of the tricky parts was over, but the other was just beginning.
Moony swept his pile of dogwood into the center of the table. Harry did the same with the pine. Together, they lifted the saucer and held it over the shavings.
"You know your lines?" Moony muttered.
"As well as you do."
"Let’s find out." With one quick gesture, Moony set the wood on fire and began to speak.
"Fire of dogwood, fire of pine,
"Make this boy a son of mine.
"Join our bloods in secret gold,
"Where no foeman may behold."
Harry spoke up, obscurely proud that his voice was steady. The liquid in the saucer was boiling furiously, the fire burnt bright, but he felt no pain in the hand holding the dish above the flames.
"Pine and dogwood, burning here,
"Make this man my father dear.
"In this gold our bloods conceal,
"So no enemy them steal."
The fire in the shavings went out even as Harry spoke the last word.
The liquid in the saucer was gone. The tiny locket lay there alone.
Moony began to lower the saucer to the table. Harry quickly did the same. "Did it work?" he asked.
"I know one good way to find out." Moony picked up the locket and held out his hand. Harry quickly took off his pendant chain and willed it open, and Moony slid the locket onto it. Harry watched it slide down the chain and clink gently against the engraving of the stag on his first pendant.
"Put it back on," Moony prompted.
Harry did. "I don’t feel any different," he said.
"Just wait." Moony stood up, motioning Harry to do the same, and to come to one side of the table. He placed his hands on Harry’s shoulders. "By the power that is in me and by the blood that we share," he said formally, "I do release any bindings that may be on the power of the line of Godric Gryffindor within you, Harry James Potter, my blood son. I charge you to use this power always for good, never for evil, and to remember that even the very wise cannot see all ends." His hands tightened for a moment. "And also to remember that I love you."
A peculiar feeling ran through Harry’s body, starting at Moony’s hands and working its way down and up simultaneously. It was like a shiver, except that a shiver was cold, and this was hot, burning hot—but it didn’t hurt...
No, it tickles.
Especially in my nose.
Harry sneezed violently, twice, feeling rather than seeing Moony dodge aside. "Ugh," he said, pressing at his streaming eyes. "Sorry."
"It’s quite all right," Moony said, sounding amused. "Here, try this." A handkerchief found Harry’s hand. "And then you may want to deal with these."
"Deal with what?" Harry wiped his eyes and looked where Moony was pointing.
Three tiny fires smoldered merrily in the carpet below.
Harry dropped to his knees. Holding his breath, he slid his hand under one of the flames.
It came up with no more trouble than a dropped Knut or quill. A faint warmth radiated down from it, but nothing worse.
"I did it," he breathed. "I really did it..." He looked up at Moony. "Where did these come from?"
"They came from you."
"I know that, but where?"
"Do you honestly want to know that?"
Harry considered the process of sneezing. "No, I don’t think I do."
"I don’t think you do either. But I do think it worked." Moony bent and picked up another of the flames. "I believe this belongs to you," he said, adding it to the one on Harry’s palm. "Congratulations, Harry, and many happy returns of the day. Your father would have been proud of you today."
"My father is proud of me today," Harry corrected. "Aren’t you?"
The remaining flame on the carpet was extinguished by water from above.
Author Notes:
Good compromise? Cop-out? Let me know!
One more chapter of summer, I think. Weddings and the like. Then back to Hogwarts for some fun with everyone’s favorite toad. Anyone care to lay bets on Umbridge vs. Pride?