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Chapter 11: Secrets

Hermione awoke the next morning to the sounds of voices from the floor below.

She pulled on her dressing gown, wondering idly how on earth Ginny and Meghan were still asleep with all the racket. It sounded as if all four Pack-parents were talking at once, and none of them were listening to a word the others said.

"QUIET!" said Moony’s voice when Hermione was halfway down the stairs, and the babble ceased abruptly. She descended the rest of the way to see Letha and Danger sitting at a small table in the middle of the room that hadn’t been there yesterday (probably conjured, she thought), Letha holding a large notebook open on the table with her left hand and a quill in her other, while Padfoot leaned over her shoulder and Moony sat in one of the armchairs, from which he could see the stairs perfectly well.

"I was going to say we’d wake the cubs, but we already have, it seems," continued Moony, nodding to Hermione where she stood on the landing.

"No, just me and the boys," said Hermione.

"No, the boys are still asleep," said Danger. "Good morning, by the way."

"Good morning — how can they sleep when they’re right there?" Hermione pointed at the doorway to the den room, curtained off to give the boys some privacy. "You woke me, and I was upstairs."

"We put a Silencing Charm on the curtains," said Padfoot. "And if I’d thought, I’d have nipped upstairs and put one on your room too. Sorry about that."

Hermione smiled, coming into the living room and sitting down on the floor by Moony’s chair. "It’s all right. We were going to be up soon anyway. What are you doing?"

"Party-planning," said Letha, tapping the notebook with her quill. "Food, drinks, music, and things for you lot to do so you don’t blow up the Den because you’re bored."

The curtains parted and Harry peered out, looking a bit dazed, his hair even more messy than usual. "Good morning," he said, covering a yawn with his hand.

"You," said Danger, pointing at him. "Kitchen. Fix. Now."

"Kitchen?" Harry looked confused for a moment, then understanding dawned on his face. "Oh. Blender. Right." He disappeared through the curtains again.

"Blender?" asked Hermione.

"Your brother relabeled all the buttons on my blender," said Danger tartly. "With things like ‘Eject’ and ‘Destroy.’ I dread the day when he’s learned enough to actually make it do those things. And don’t you two even think about it," she snapped in Padfoot’s and Moony’s directions. The two men immediately looked highly innocent (Hermione craned her neck to see Moony’s face above her).

"You’d better hide the thing for tomorrow," advised Letha. "With the guest list we’ve got here — did we ever get an answer on that from Dumbledore, Remus?"

"Oh, didn’t I tell you? He wrote back saying it would be fine — and Arthur and Molly owled him the letter before they left, so we’ve got all the necessary permissions. Who’s taking care of that?"

"Minerva said she’d do it," said Padfoot. "Are all three coming, or just the two?"

"She’s going to ask them all, but I have a feeling..." Letha stopped. "Hermione, shoo."

"Why?"

"Because this is supposed to be a surprise for our guests, and I know you six too well — none of you can keep a secret from any of the others. So it remains an adult secret until tomorrow around four. Understand?"

Hermione sighed and got to her feet. "I understand."

I don’t like, but I understand.

More than even the average eleven-year-old, Hermione resented being kept out of things. Her mind was always hungry for knowledge, and the mere thought of someone else knowing something she didn’t annoyed her terribly. Her eventual goal in life was to know everything.

And I don’t care if it’s not supposed to be possible. Magic’s not supposed to be possible either, and yet here we are, witches and wizards.

These thoughts had carried her into the kitchen, where Harry, wand in hand, was just finishing with the blender. "I left one," he said, beckoning her closer. "Can you find it?"

Hermione looked the buttons over. "That one," she said, pointing.

"How’d you guess?"

"I don’t think most blenders have a setting like that."

Harry shrugged. "Well, they should."

xXxXx

The rest of the day was devoted to planning and preparing for the party, and (at least on the part of the cubs) trying to figure out the secret. The adults, though, were on the alert, and never slipped once.

It was very frustrating, Harry thought, to have prankster parents. They knew all the tricks, so you could never — well, almost never — pull anything over on them. On the plus side, they didn’t punish you nearly so hard if you pulled off whatever you had tried to do really well...

He remembered, late that afternoon, something Padfoot and Moony had shown them earlier in the holidays that they hadn’t shown the girls yet.

"Want to see a cool trick?" he said, leaning on the doorway of the girls’ room with Ron and Draco standing behind him.

Hermione looked up from her book. "Does it involve us getting wet, messy, or annoyed?"

"No."

Hermione looked at Ginny and Meghan, who nodded. "All right."

All six of them crowded into the upstairs bathroom, and the boys explained the Animagus scrying spell to the girls. Hermione went first.

"It’s a cat," she said when she was finished. "But not grey, like Danger turned me into — it’s got three colors, white and orange and black."

"Calico," said Ginny. "A calico cat. They’re so pretty. Can I go next?"

Ron handed Ginny his wand, and she cast the spell. It seemed to take her a long time to see her form, and she looked puzzled when she broke away. "It’s like a cat," she said. "But not. It’s bigger, I think — and it’s got reddish fur with dark spots — and its tail is very short and has a black tip, and it has a face almost like a wolf."

"I’ll be right back," said Hermione, and dashed away.

Harry, Ron, and Draco rolled their eyes at each other.

Meghan borrowed Harry’s wand to work the magic. "It’s a deer!" she said happily as Hermione returned, panting a bit, with one of the encyclopedias from the living room in her hands. "A girl deer — a doe."

"Well, you’re not going to be a stag, Pearl," teased Harry, going in for a knuckle rub. Meghan dodged, and Harry’s hand ended up on Ginny’s head. He drew back hastily, and Ginny blushed and mumbled something that sounded like an apology.

"Ginny, is this your form?" asked Hermione, drawing everyone’s attention. She held the book up, open to a certain page.

Ginny looked at the picture. "I think so — yes, that’s it. It has the short tail and everything — what is it?"

"Eurasian lynx," Hermione recited. "A type of wildcat, usually about 3-4 feet long and 2-3 feet tall at the shoulder. Fur can range from yellowish brown to reddish grey with dark spots, and tail is short and stubby with a black tip." She handed the book to Ginny. "That’s a really great form. You could fight really well with that."

Ginny looked at the picture. "I guess I could," she said, flexing the fingers of one hand as if wondering what it would feel like to have large, well-furred paws with sharp claws hidden away inside them.

"Harry’s is good for fighting too," said Meghan. "Wolves are dangerous and fierce."

"Unless they’re tamed," said Hermione with a significant look towards one of the bedrooms, making the cubs all snicker and the Weasleys look blank.

"Yours would be good for sneaking, Hermione," said Ron. "And Draco’s too. Except for being white — you’d be too easy to see. Maybe you could roll in the dirt or something."

"Excuse me?" Draco looked highly offended. "I don’t roll in the dirt for anything! Not even for sneaking around!"

"So you’d rather get killed?" offered Harry.

"Well, maybe if it was roll in the dirt or get killed. But not for anything else. And yours would be good for spying, Ron — hawks can see everything."

Discussion of their forms occupied most of the rest of the afternoon.

xXxXx

Excitement had everyone up early the next morning, and Letha and Danger kept them all moving after that. Even with everything they’d done the day before, and all their hands to help, there was still just barely time to finish getting ready before the Floo chimed for the first time.

Luna and Mr. Lovegood were the first arrivals, to no one’s surprise. Draco whispered something to Luna, who looked speculative, then nodded, and the two of them hurried into the ground floor bathroom together and shut the door.

Mr. Lovegood looked a bit nonplussed. "Not that I have any objections to her choice," he said, "but aren’t they a bit young for that sort of thing?"

Padfoot and Moony looked at each other. "You explain," they said at the same time, making everyone laugh.

By the time Padfoot had been forced to clarify what Draco and Luna were actually doing in the bathroom, they had reemerged, Luna looking very satisfied. "I’d be an owl if I were an Animagus," she announced. "A white owl like Hedwig. I’d like that. Owls can see well in the dark, and they can fly."

The Floo chimed again, this time signaling the arrival of Mrs. Longbottom and Neville. He was immediately pounced upon by all the other children, introduced to Luna and Ginny, and hauled away to the bathroom to scry for his form as well.

It was very crowded in the bathroom with all eight of them, but with the smaller ones sitting on the counter and the bigger ones pressed against the walls, they all squeezed in. Neville had to cast the spell three times before it worked, and even then it seemed to take a long time. He looked very confused when he turned away. "It was a monkey," he said. "But then it disappeared and reappeared again. I didn’t know monkeys could do that."

"What color was it?" asked Hermione.

"Silver, with black eyes."

Hermione felt the pleasurable thrill of being able to answer someone’s question. "A demiguise, Neville! Not a monkey, a demiguise! That’s where Invisibility Cloaks come from — they’re made out of demiguise fur! If you became an Animagus, you could turn invisible whenever you wanted!"

Neville looked surprised and pleased. "Cool!" Then his face fell. "I couldn’t ever be an Animagus, though — it’s too hard, it takes a really good wizard to do that, and I’m almost a Squib—"

Three people at once spoke up in protest of this statement, making so much noise that Hermione almost didn’t hear the Floo go off again. "More guests!"

They all piled out of the bathroom. Ginny, in the lead, squealed with excitement when she saw one of the new arrivals. "Charlie!"

"Hey, there, Fireball," said the stocky red-haired young man, catching his excited little sister as she hurtled toward him. "How are you?"

"I’m all right — I thought you were still in Romania!"

"I got a few days off and came to spend it with Tonks and her folks, and they got invited to the party here, so I just had to come along, even though it meant I’d have to see you and Ronniekins..." Charlie pulled a long-suffering face, making all the adults laugh.

"Don’t call me that," groaned Ron, but he hugged his brother anyway.

"And that’s not all you’ll be seeing," said Letha with a smile. Charlie and the cubs looked at her questioningly, and she shook her head, pointing at the Floo, which had just chimed once more.

Professor McGonagall was the first person to emerge this time, and closely following her —

"Fred! George!" Ginny greeted her twin brothers just as ecstatically as she had Charlie. "I didn’t know you were coming!"

"You weren’t supposed to, Gin," said one of the twins, hugging her back. "It was a surprise."

"Some surprise," grumbled Ron. "I get enough of them at school." But he didn’t really look too unhappy to see the twins.

"Is Percy coming?" asked Charlie, holding both the twins in headlocks at the same time.

"No, he’s decided to remain at Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall, straightening her robes.

"Good," said Ron under his breath. "Nothing breaks up a party faster than Percy."

Hermione smacked him. "That’s not nice!"

"But it is true," said Harry. "I think Percy’s allergic to fun."

"No, he’s just addicted to being serious," said one of the twins, who had gotten away from Charlie by now.

"Don’t even start," said at least two people to Padfoot, who immediately tried to look like he hadn’t been about to say something.

Introductions were made — Healer Tonks told the cubs to call her Aunt Andy and her husband Uncle Ted, but Neville’s gran remained Mrs. Longbottom to everyone — and the party could begin in earnest. The adults walked about the house in small groups, chatting, and the children parked themselves in the living room with large amounts of food and drink. Charlie had some fascinating stories to tell about his work with the dragons, and Tonks’ anecdotes about Auror training had the boys riveted.

Professor Dumbledore arrived somewhat later with Hagrid, apologizing for being late, but he’d had to finish a few things at Hogwarts. He made up for his lateness, though, by working a few wonderful illusions, including a beautiful tree that seemed to sprout in the middle of the music room floor, grow to the peak of the cathedral ceiling, sprout silver leaves and golden fruit, and then vanish in a shower of sparks.

No one was really interested in a sit-down meal, since the food constantly available more than made up for it, so it was around the usual time for dinner that Letha asked if anyone would be interested in dancing. Aunt Andy and Uncle Ted volunteered, along with Moony and Danger, and Professor Dumbledore offered to charm the piano so that it would play by itself and leave Letha free to dance with Padfoot. She accepted with thanks, and with a tap of Dumbledore’s wand, the piano began to play the music for one of the set-dances Padfoot had taught the cubs.

Charlie put his drink down and grabbed Tonks’ wrist. "No, no, you don’t want to dance with me," she protested, laughing. "I’ll step on your feet!"

"They’re yours to step on."

"How d’you figure that?"

"I’m yours, so everything that’s mine is yours, including my feet. So step away, Tonksie."

They took their place in the dance, Tonks blushing a bit.

Four was the usual number of couples for a set in this sort of dance, Hermione recalled. It wasn’t very complicated — a certain number of steps this way and that, bow or curtsey to your partner, turn and bow or curtsey to a different partner, swing around a few different ways — it was very pretty to watch, though, with everyone in their colorful dress robes...

"May I have this dance?" a voice asked her. She looked up, startled.

Harry stood in front of her, offering her his hand.

"We’d break up the set," she objected. "They already have enough."

"We’re making our own. There’s enough room in here for two."

"Do we have enough?"

"We will if you’ll come along. Please?"

Hermione looked past Harry to see Ron leading Ginny into place on the dance floor. "Well... all right. But just this one."

The music began a new section just as she and Harry reached their places. She curtseyed to him, seeing Ginny, Luna, and Meghan doing the same down the line, and he bowed back, as did Ron, Draco, and Neville, who looked a bit worried.

Meghan’ll take care of him, Hermione thought, and then concentrated on the measures of the dance. It really wasn’t hard at all — advance, retreat, curtsey to Harry, move diagonal and curtsey again — Ron bowed in reply, they came together and moved apart — she was moving down the line, now she was dancing opposite Draco, who made his bow very gallant, almost flamboyant. She flicked his ear with her fingers as she passed.

Neville was her partner now, and he looked distinctly unhappy. "What’s wrong?" she asked as the dance brought them together.

"I stepped on Meghan’s feet," he whispered back the next time he was close enough. "And I keep messing up the steps."

"It’s all right," Hermione assured him a moment later. "Just keep going, you’re doing fine — ah!" For Neville had just stepped on her foot as well.

"Sorry, sorry—" Neville looked very apologetic.

"I’m fine, you didn’t get me hard," fibbed Hermione. In fact, her foot hurt quite a bit, but she was determined to finish the dance and not make Neville feel bad.

She made her way back down the line, passing Draco, who gave her a very carefully correct bow this time, Ron, who unaccountably blushed a little when he saw her, and making it back to Harry just in time for the final measures of the music.

The observers applauded all the dancers, who sat down breathing a little harder but smiling.

"Thirteen," said Charlie ruefully, rubbing his left foot. "I think that’s a new record."

"Which way, high or low?" asked Padfoot.

Tonks threw an ice cube at him.

The evening progressed pleasantly, with more dancing (just adults this time), more stories and talking, and a juggling exhibition by Hagrid, who started with small things like cups and worked his way up to his grand finale — juggling (with their and their parents’ and siblings’ permission) Harry, Draco, and Ron. Neville and the girls had all declared their intention of keeping their feet firmly on the ground.

"How was it?" asked Hermione when the boys were deposited back on the floor by a red-faced but exuberant-looking Hagrid.

"Exciting," said Draco, weaving a bit on his feet. "I think I need to sit down."

"I think I need the loo," groaned Ron, prompting the twins to help him to the bathroom.

"I think I want to do it again," said Harry, making all the adults laugh and Hagrid ruffle his hair and tell him one was his limit for the day.

"But come around some time durin’ school, maybe I c’n accommodate yeh then," he said with a wink.

The party was winding down when Hermione noticed Professor Dumbledore subtly signaling the Pack-parents about something. Curious, she slipped out of the room after them, being sure to stay as much out of sight as she could.

"...before the holidays end," Professor Dumbledore was saying as she got within earshot. "He needs a fresh supply."

"You’re certain this is the genuine Flamel you talked to?" asked Padfoot. "I’m sorry, I shouldn’t doubt you," he added quickly, "but with who you suspect might be after this thing—"

"No offense taken, Sirius, your concern is apt, and duly noted. I have, indeed, made certain of his identity, and will make certain again when he arrives."

"So what do you need us for?" asked Letha.

"For one thing, I will need one or two of you to help Nicolas pass the obstacle you set up — for another, I would like some extra security around the entrance while he is within."

"You can have any three of us," said Moony, "or all four if you can have someone keep an eye on the cubs while we’re there."

"That can be arranged. I cannot express my gratitude at having friends such as you to help safeguard such a valuable item..."

Hermione held her breath as footsteps passed her by, grateful for her hiding place behind the coat tree. With so many people at the house, the thing was loaded down to the point where no one would notice her behind it unless they looked directly at her feet.

She counted a slow twenty after the footsteps had faded, then slid out and hurried upstairs.

She had some research to do.

xXxXx

"Meet me in the den room in five minutes," whispered Hermione to Harry when she returned to the music room.

Harry nodded and watched Hermione slip off to talk to Ron. I wonder what’s up?

Five minutes later, he casually made his way through the kitchen, noticing Fred and George bending over something at the sink, and slipped through the curtains screening off the den room, hearing the noise of the party drop to almost nothing once he was inside.

Most of the others were already there — Ron and Draco were sitting on their beds, Ron with Ginny beside him, Draco with Luna and Meghan. Hermione was pacing up and down at the foot of the beds, looking very excited. A large book lay on Harry’s bed.

Neville came through the curtains from the living room a moment later and sat down on Draco’s closed trunk. "Good, that’s everyone," said Hermione. "You’ll never believe what I found out—"

"Well, not unless you tell us, we won’t," said Ron.

Hermione ignored this. "I found out what that dog is guarding."

"The three-headed one?" asked Ginny.

"Yes. It’s something very precious — it’s called a Sorcerer’s Stone."

"That makes the Elixir of Life," said Luna. "It makes you immortal if you drink it."

Hermione nodded, looking a touch put-out that Luna had stolen some of her thunder. "And it also turns any metal into pure gold. It’s the only one in existence — and it’s at Hogwarts."

The young Pack looked at each other. Neville finally voiced the question that seemed to be on everyone’s mind.

"Why?"

"To keep it safe, probably," said Draco, saving Harry from having to answer. "Hogwarts is one of the safest places in the wizarding world."

"And even safer with that dog guarding it," said Ron. He had listened several times to Draco’s description of the dog, and the detail of its having three heads seemed to have made a deep impression on him.

"And there are other things guarding it as well," said Harry, figuring that since they already knew, it wouldn’t hurt to tell them a bit more. "Spells and enchantments. I know the Pack did one."

"How do you know?" asked Hermione.

Harry winced. Should have seen that coming. "I... guessed."

"Liar."

"Fine, Moony told me — but he also told me not to tell anyone, so don’t go noising it around, all right?"

Ron snorted. "Like this isn’t noising it around." He gestured at the eight people in the room. "We might as well just tell the entire world. Ginny can’t keep her mouth shut about anything."

"Hey!" Ginny elbowed her brother.

Something struck Harry. "Wait a minute," he said. "We swore the Pack-oath. Last Christmas, when everything was happening, the seven of us swore." He looked around at Neville. "And then you swore with us when we got to school, and you’ve been denning with us since October. So technically, we’re all Pack here."

"So what?" asked Meghan.

"So I declare this a den-secret. On your oath, you don’t tell it to anyone who isn’t Pack. I think we can all do that."

Slowly, heads nodded all around the room.

"So," said Hermione, sitting down. "Now we know what it is that’s down there. And we know that at least two professors were messing around with that door. Snape and Quirrell."

"Right." Draco leaned back on his bed. "So, on Halloween, was Quirrell trying to get to the Stone and got stopped by the dog, or was Snape trying to get to it and got stopped by having to save Quirrell?"

Several people traded glances. Before anyone could say anything, though, an explosion was dimly audible through the Silencer on the curtains.

"That sounds interesting," said Harry, getting up and pulling the curtains open.

Fred and George, both a bit scorched, were attempting to appear innocent in front of a rather irate-looking Danger. Small bits of plastic and metal littered the kitchen, which had a smell of smoke about it.

Harry gulped and closed the curtains again quickly.

They were yanked back open almost immediately.

"You will now tell me why there was still a button marked ‘Explode’ on my blender," said Danger sharply, snagging one of Harry’s wrists and pulling him into the kitchen.

"Thanks a lot," Harry muttered to Fred and George out of the corner of his mouth.

xXxXx

School started again in due course. The teachers began loading on homework, and Harry worked harder than anyone as Quidditch practice resumed, but he enjoyed it. Wood seemed to have gotten over his irrational fear that Harry would break, and was now working him just as hard as any other member of the team. This meant that Harry returned to the Gryffindor common room three nights a week wet, cold, tired, and exhilarated.

Lockhart was as good as his word, introducing them to his book Wanderings with Werewolves in the first class of term. Harry and Draco managed to keep their snickers to themselves in the first half of the class, but then Lockhart began enumerating ways that one could tell a werewolf in human form from another person. Among the first signs on his list were "moodiness," "bad temper," "perfectionism," and "favoritism."

Ron slipped Harry a note. He opened it.

Snape’s a werewolf!

Harry dropped his quill, slid under his desk to get it, and stuffed the sleeve of his robe in his mouth so he could laugh without being overheard.

"Next week — my classic defeat of the Wagga Wagga Werewolf!" announced Lockhart as the bell rang.

"How do you defeat a werewolf?" asked Neville as they made their way out of class.

"Easy," said Ron. "Cut its paws off."

The rest of the group groaned.

xXxXx

Harry’s second Quidditch match of the year was approaching. This one would be against Hufflepuff, and it was important because if Gryffindor won, they would be in first place for the House Cup. Of course, it was also important simply because it was a Quidditch match, but the house points aspect meant that even Hermione was interested, so Harry didn’t push it.

He and Draco were also having fun in Defense Against the Dark Arts. They would wait until Lockhart was in full swing, then stick their hands up and ask some innocent little question.

Like: "Professor Lockhart, is it true werewolves can’t have children?"

Or: "Professor Lockhart, is it true werewolves in human form aren’t contagious unless they bite someone on purpose?"

Then they got to watch Lockhart try to come up with an answer, and catch him every time he made a mistake.

Hermione didn’t speak to them for hours after each DADA class, but Ron and Neville, along with most of the rest of the male portion of their year, thought it was tremendously amusing and encouraged them to keep it up.

At the class directly before the Quidditch match, Harry felt daring. He stuck his hand up, and Lockhart, who never seemed to learn, called on him.

"Professor, is there any such thing as a werewolf tamer?"

"A werewolf tamer, Mr. Potter? I’m afraid I don’t quite understand. Could you explain what you mean for the class?"

"Someone whose magic makes a werewolf not dangerous. She — or he," Harry added hastily, "can touch a werewolf to bring his human mind back. Or if she stays with the werewolf while the moon rises, then the werewolf never loses his mind at all. And their minds are connected so the werewolf can talk to her."

He became aware that the entire classroom was staring at him, Draco and Hermione with expressions of horror.

"Is there?" he finished, rather lamely.

Lockhart too was staring at him. Then he burst into peals of laughter. "Harry, Harry, Harry — what an imagination! No, I’m afraid there’s no such thing as a werewolf tamer — not in the way you seem to be saying. Someone who can tame a werewolf by touch... why, if anyone did have that sort of magic, Healers all over the world would be clamoring to examine her! She could be even more famous than I am — though not for the same variety of things, I’ve no doubt!"

Hermione’s face was set in lines of extreme annoyance. Draco’s quill was scratching steadily across a scrap of parchment.

"No, no, I’m afraid that’s just your imagination working there, Mr. Potter." Lockhart wiped tears of laughter from his eyes. "But if you’ll turn to page 134, you’ll find a comprehensive list of my personally guaranteed spells and talismans to keep werewolves away from your person if you have to be out and about during the full moon..."

Ron handed Harry the note Draco had been writing. Slowly, he opened it.

It consisted of a single word, written in very heavy lines.

Nice.

Neither Hermione nor Draco would speak to him for the rest of the day.

"What did you do?" asked Ron in bewilderment at dinner, when Draco and Hermione had pointedly moved several places down the table when Harry had tried to sit next to them. "Was it that question in Defense?"

Harry nodded, poking at his food.

"What was so bad about that? I thought it was a good question. It’s really funny when you and Draco do that to him, you know?" Ron took a bite of mashed potato, then frowned around it. "’Ow oo’oo oh’oh uh uh-ow eh-uhlz, eh-ee-ay?"

"What?" asked Harry in total confusion.

Ron swallowed. "I said, how do you know so much about werewolves, anyway? Lockhart looks like a piker next to you. Have you been stealing some of Hermione’s books or something?"

"Moony’s interested in Dark creatures," said Harry quickly. "I read a book of his about werewolves once."

"Once? It sounds like you memorized it."

"All right, twice. It was interesting." Harry hoped he didn’t sound too defensive. "It had a section of personal stories by werewolves. All about the problems they have getting work and things like that. Until about twenty years ago, they weren’t even allowed to go to school at Hogwarts."

Ron sat up straighter. "You mean they are now?"

"I think so."

"Wow." Ron looked around the room with new eyes. "I wonder if any do right now..."

"Wait for the full moon and see if anyone disappears for a couple days," Harry advised, grinning.

"Think I will. Wow. A werewolf..." Ron seemed torn between awe and fear.

"What would you do if you found out someone you know is one?" asked Harry curiously.

Ron’s head snapped back to him. "Harry — mate — please don’t tell me..."

"What? Oh — no! No, not me, I’m not one..." Harry laughed. "You should know I’m not. We den together, remember?"

"What’s that got to do with it?"

"Haven’t you ever noticed when we den?"

"About once a month..." Comprehension came into Ron’s face. "It is on full moons, isn’t it? I never noticed that before. How come then?"

Harry shrugged. "Just tradition, I guess. That’s when we den at home."

"Ron," said Hermione from behind the boys, getting their attention. "Would you please tell Harry that we’ll be waiting for him in the common room." She turned and marched away, meeting Draco at the door of the Great Hall.

Ron watched her go. "She is really ticked at you, mate," he said.

"I know." Harry got up. "I should go. See you in the common room?"

"All right. See you there."

Harry made his way out of the Great Hall without noticing the thoughtful expression on Ron’s face.

xXxXx

Draco and Hermione were sitting together, not talking, not doing anything, when Harry climbed through the portrait hole. At once, they got up and moved to either side of him, like some kind of guards. "In our dorm," said Draco under his breath.

"Knock it off," muttered Harry, trying to push them away. They moved slightly farther from him, but still stayed one in front of him and one behind as they climbed the stairs.

"What?" Harry demanded as soon as they were sure they were alone in the dormitory. "What is this about?"

"You know what this is about," snapped Hermione. "You with your talk about den-secrets — and you’re going and telling the whole world about one of ours!"

"I didn’t tell anyone anything!"

"No, you just asked a question that anyone with half a brain could see was taken straight from something you know about!" Draco was glaring at him.

Harry glared straight back. "You haven’t exactly been holding back in class!"

"Yeah, well, I didn’t ask an extremely detailed question about something that shouldn’t even exist!"

"Harry," said Hermione, getting both boys’ attention. "I’m writing home about this."

Harry felt his stomach sink. "Hermione — don’t. Please, don’t."

"You as good as told a den-secret, Harry. I have to."

"No." Harry looked hard at her. "Don’t do it. That’s an order."

Hermione looked down her nose at him. "You can’t order me to do anything, Harry Potter."

"Yes I bloody well can — I’m your alpha!"

"You broke Pack law, Harry. Or almost broke it. You forfeited your authority. It goes to me now. I lead until you’ve proved to us that you’re not going to be an idiot any more."

Harry saw red. He started across the room, clenching his fists —

Draco stepped in his way. "Don’t try it," he warned. "She’s right and you know it. And if you even think about hurting her, I’ll break your arm."

"Not if I break yours first," Harry growled, and grabbed for Draco.

Draco sidestepped neatly. Harry’s grab missed, and he lost his balance, flailing his arms — he might not have fallen, though, if Draco hadn’t assisted him to the floor, and he would certainly have been able to get up if Draco hadn’t sat down on him, grabbed his arm, and twisted it up behind his back.

He struggled to get free, but Draco twisted his arm a little more every time he did, and eventually, he stopped, hearing his blood thunder in his ears, feeling the weight of his brother pinning him down...

His brother. He’d attacked his brother. And been trying to attack his sister. For no other reason than that they were telling him something he didn’t want to hear.

And the worst of it was, they were right.

He’d endangered the Pack by being a stupid git. He didn’t deserve to be alpha.

Shame flooded him. He could feel his face turning bright red.

Of course, that might be because there was someone sitting on his back...

"Can I let you up yet?" asked Draco quietly.

Harry swallowed against the lump in his throat. "Yeah."

Draco let his arm go, then got off him, and Harry rolled over and sat up. He didn’t dare look directly at Draco yet, he thought he might cry if he did. "I’m sorry," he said very quietly to the bedpost.

"It’s all right. You were mad. And I could tell you knew we were right. You didn’t even really try to fight back. Padfoot taught us the counter to the arm-twist last year, remember?"

Harry nodded. He did remember, now that he thought about it. But he hadn’t been thinking a few minutes ago. He’d just been mad.

"Never fight when you’re angry." Moony’s voice came to his mind, and he tried to push it away, but it wouldn’t be pushed. "Angry people make mistakes, they forget important things. Try to stay as calm as you can if you get into a fight."

Harry stared at the floor.

I messed this up about ten ways from Tuesday. I really don’t deserve to be alpha anymore.

"Harry?"

It was Hermione’s voice. He looked up. She was sitting on Draco’s bed, legs crossed, wand in her lap. "Yeah?"

"I’m not going to write home."

Harry felt relieved — but also, strangely, guilty. "Why not?"

"There’s no reason for me to. The Pack’s coming themselves on Saturday. You should tell them yourself."

Harry winced, but he knew she was right. "All right. I’ll do that." He stood up and crossed the room. "Hermione — I’m sorry. That was really wrong of me. You’re right — you should be alpha now."

He went down to one knee in front of her and tipped his head back, closing his eyes.

"Only until after Saturday," Hermione said. "After whatever happens with the Pack-parents, you’re our alpha again. But until then..."

Her hand closed gently around Harry’s throat, symbolizing her power over him. Even though he knew it was only temporary, Harry couldn’t help but shiver.

I won’t do this again, he vowed. I’ll never do something this stupid again, so I’ll never have to stop being alpha again.

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