Living without Danger
Chapter 12: Days Like This (Year 1)
By Anne B. Walsh
Chapter 12: Days Like This
"Mr. Potter."
Harry’s head snapped up. "Yes, sir."
"Do you have anything you wish to ask before we start our lesson today? Any important questions on your mind?"
Draco watched as Harry’s jaw muscles tightened. "No, sir."
"Are you certain? I would hate to stand in the way of such a young genius as yourself."
It was a good thing Harry had both hands clenched around a fold of his robes, Draco thought, because otherwise his fingernails would have been cutting into his palms. "Yes, sir, I’m sure."
"Very well." Snape turned away from them and tapped the blackboard with his wand, filling it with writing. "Let us begin, then, if Mr. Potter has no pearls of wisdom to grace us with."
The class took notes diligently for a few minutes. Then Neville spilled his ink all over himself and Colleen Lamb, who was sitting with him today. While Snape was dealing with the spill, Harry scribbled a note and handed it to Draco.
How the bloody hell did he know about that?
Draco wrote an answer underneath.
Teachers gossip worse than girls.
Harry looked furious all over again.
Does that mean the whole school knows?
Draco didn’t want to write it, but he wasn’t going to lie.
Probably.
Harry read the answer, nodded grimly, then started twisting the note into a little screw. Seeing the look on his brother’s face, Draco figured he should be grateful it wasn’t Snape’s neck Harry was going for.
But as much as he hates it, he’s only got himself to blame for this one.
I think that’s what he hates about it.
xXxXx
"Can I borrow your notes, Hermione?" asked Neville in the common room that afternoon. "Snape Vanished mine when he cleaned up the ink."
"Sure." Hermione handed them over.
Draco looked up from his own Potions notes and noticed Ron sitting by himself, a little ways away from the other three (Harry was at Quidditch practice), scribbling things on a piece of parchment and mumbling to himself.
Sounds like he’s studying for Astronomy.
"We should write this day down," he said, coming up behind Ron. "Ron Weasley studying without Hermione having to make him."
Ron jumped and rolled his parchment up quickly. "Don’t scare me like that! You walk too quiet, Drake, you know that?"
"Sorry. It’s a habit."
"From what?"
"From when Meghan used to take naps. We’d all have to be quiet and not wake her up."
"Not from playing pranks?"
Draco grinned. "Well, yeah, that too."
The Fat Lady’s portrait opened. The Gryffindor Quidditch team, muddy and disheveled, trooped in, Harry bringing up the rear. Draco caught his eye and gave him a questioning look. Harry shrugged, and his hands moved.
"Leave me alone for a while." All right.
He nodded in understanding. Harry signed a thank you and started up the stairs to the dorm.
Ron watched him go. "Is he still mad about Potions?" he asked.
"I guess. He wants us to leave him alone."
"How do you know?"
"He told me."
Ron frowned. "How? You didn’t say anything, neither did he. He just..." He mimicked Harry’s motions.
"It’s a kind of sign language. Padfoot and Moony invented it when they were at school, and they taught some of it to us."
Ron shook his head. "That is so unfair," he said enviously. "That is just so unfair. You have the coolest family in the world."
"Want to learn some?"
Ron nodded eagerly.
"All right." Draco sat down on the table in front of Ron’s armchair. "Start with the basics. Insults. These are fun because you can say something nasty about someone right to their face, and they’ll never know. Like this." Draco scratched his left temple. "I think Goyle’s a really nice guy."
"You do?"
"No. It doesn’t matter what I say. Except for the name, what you say doesn’t matter. What matters is the movement. You saw me do it, right?"
"You scratched right here." Ron duplicated the movement.
"Right — and that means ‘Whoever I’m talking about is the world’s biggest idiot, how do they even figure out which feet their shoes go on in the morning?’ All that matters in what I say out loud is the name."
Ron grinned. "I like this."
"Thought you would. Now, if you scratch over here, that’s the same as saying ‘This person stinks so bad I want to ask them if they’ve ever heard of showers...’"
xXxXx
The Pack arrived early for this Quidditch match, as they had done for the one before it. This time, though, there was a difference. A fully-dressed, wide-awake Harry was curled up on one of the couches, obviously waiting for them.
"What are you doing up this early?" asked Sirius, moving forward to hug Harry even as he asked.
Harry looked awfully unhappy for a boy about to play his second Quidditch match ever, Danger thought. "I need to talk to you," he said quietly. "To all of you. In private."
"Is something wrong?" asked Remus concernedly.
"Not really... yeah, kind of... I don’t know."
The Pack-parents traded looks.
Not really, yeah kind of, I don’t know? Sounds like a yes to me.
Let him tell us himself, on his own time. "We can be private here," said Remus, leading the way to a sequestered clump of chairs. "Meghan, why don’t you go and see if Draco or Hermione are awake yet. Don’t wake anyone else."
Meghan nodded and started climbing the boys’ staircase.
"Ten gets you one she wakes Neville," murmured Aletha to Danger.
Danger chuckled. "I won’t take it."
"Why not?"
"I never bet against a sure thing."
The women shared a private smile, then took their seats. Remus cast a Privacy Spell around their little group and nodded to Harry.
Harry looked rather as if he were going to be ill. "I did something really stupid in Defense on Thursday," he said miserably. "I thought it was funny, but it wasn’t. It was just dumb."
He explained, and as he did, Danger was beset by quite a number of conflicting emotions. Annoyance, she finally decided, was predominant, but her wish to comfort Harry was close behind — it had, after all, been a very easy mistake to make, and he was only eleven...
"And now Hermione’s alpha because she and Draco don’t trust me anymore, and nobody should trust me because I’m a stupid idiot who can’t keep secrets," Harry finished, staring hard at his hands, which were twisting his Quidditch robes in his lap.
"Enough," said Aletha firmly. "Calling yourself names doesn’t help anything. Consider that part of your punishment if you like. No more name-calling."
"Okay," said Harry quietly, his eyes still downcast.
"I think we need to talk about this," said Remus. "Harry, would you excuse us for a moment?"
Harry nodded, got up, and walked quickly out of the area covered by the Privacy Spell.
The Pack-parents looked at each other.
"Well," said Aletha finally.
"We may have done too good of a job," said Sirius. "He’s starting to act like James."
"And the things James did were funny when we were eleven, but from the ripe old age of thirty-two..." Remus shook his head. "There is reason for hope, though. He’s ashamed of himself. James was never ashamed of anything except getting caught."
"I... don’t really know what to think," confessed Danger. "I can sort of see both sides. I mean, he was wrong to tell that in class that way, but everyone’s going to think he made it up, so I doubt there’s any permanent harm done — and he seems to be taking it very hard."
"I think what hit him hardest was giving up being alpha," said Aletha. "Not necessarily for the power involved, but as he said himself, for the trust." She sighed. "Harry’s just discovered one of the nasty truths of life. That everyone, even him, has parts of themselves they’d rather not see, and that sometimes those parts break loose — and when they do, the consequences can be bad, and lasting."
Remus and Sirius both started to say something at the same time.
"Go ahead."
"No, you."
"All right — what you just said, Letha, about parts of yourself you’d rather not see — made me think of probably the stupidest thing I ever did."
"How can you choose?" Remus inquired blandly.
Sirius directed a pointed look at him. "That thing with Snape following you into the Shack?"
Remus inclined his head, acknowledging the point. Role reversal, anyone? he sent ruefully to Danger. I’m playing around, and Sirius is pulling me back on topic...
Danger allowed him to see her mental amusement. Unusual, but fun to watch.
Still, it does give me an idea.
xXxXx
Harry stood outside the Privacy Spell, shuffling his feet against the carpet. The sick feeling he’d had since he’d woken up that morning was partly gone, but not entirely. The first part was over — he’d told them. Now all he had to do was wait to find out what his punishment was going to be.
Right. That’s all.
I’d rather sit through an extra Potions class.
He looked up at the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Neville was coming down the boys’ stairs, fully dressed and wearing his outdoor cloak, Meghan right behind him.
"Morning," said Harry.
"Good morning," said Neville, whom Harry had seldom seen smiling like this. "We’re going out to the greenhouses before breakfast — Meghan wants to see some of the plants we’ve been working with in Herbology."
"Will you tell Mama Letha?" asked Meghan. Harry nodded, and she darted over to him and hugged him. "Thank you, thank you! I love you!"
Harry hugged her back, feeling his heart lighten a little more.
Not everyone hates me.
The Privacy Spell dissipated just as the portrait closed behind Neville. "Come here, Harry," said Padfoot.
Feeling a little bit like he was walking the plank, Harry came and stood in the indicated spot.
"First things first," said Letha, standing up. She walked up to Harry and looked him in the eye, putting her hands on his shoulders. "You are still our cub, and we still love you. What you did was unwise and thoughtless, but we’re not about to stop loving you because of it."
Harry tried not to show how much better this made him feel. A small part of him had been insisting that he’d forever disqualified himself as a member of the Pack at all, never mind an alpha.
"Your punishment is that you have to listen to a story."
Harry blinked, sure he hadn’t heard that right. A story?
"Don’t get too excited," advised Moony. "I don’t think you’ll like this much."
"But you have to listen," finished Danger. "And pay attention, and really think about what happened. Once you’ve done that, this is over with. Understand?"
Harry nodded.
"All right," said Padfoot, sitting up in his chair. "This is a story from our time at Hogwarts, but it’s not one you’ve heard before. It has to do with me, and with your father, and with Snape, and peripherally with Moony."
Harry sat down cross-legged on the floor facing his godfather and prepared to listen.
xXxXx
By the time the story was over, Harry wasn’t sure if he felt better or worse. Now he knew he wasn’t the only one who’d ever said something horribly stupid. But he hated to think of Padfoot doing something like that, something that could have ended up with someone dying — even if that someone was Snape.
Why did they tell me this now?
"I’ve seen that look on your face before," said Moony, surveying Harry from the side. "It means, ‘So what?’"
Harry nodded, a little chagrined that his family could still read him so easily.
"In the first place, Harry, you’re not the only person in the world who’s said something they wish they could take back, because they thought it was clever at the time."
"Figured that one out myself," muttered Harry.
"Good. So can you figure out the other reason?"
Moony’s politely chiding tone needled Harry, but he kept his wince internal.
I deserve this. I probably deserve more, actually, the Pack always lets us off light.
"No," he said finally.
Danger got up from the couch and came to kneel in front of him. "Life goes on, Greeneyes," she said, her eyes catching and holding his. "Nothing we say or do can stop it. Not our best times, and not our worst. You made a mistake — but life has to go on. So you’ll learn from it, and not do something like this again, right?"
Harry nodded fervently.
"Good. Then I think we’re set." Danger shifted over into sitting on her hip.
Harry looked around at his Pack-parents, disbelieving. "That’s it? I don’t have to miss the match?" That had been his worst fear — that the Pack would order him not to play today to make up for his blunder.
"Good Lord, no!" Moony actually looked alarmed. "Are you feeling all right? Able to play?"
"Yes — but what about punishment? Don’t I have to lose something I like?"
"Seems to me you’ve already lost quite a lot," said Letha. "The trust of your siblings. Trust in yourself. You tell me — the last two days haven’t been much fun, have they?"
Harry shook his head. "Awful."
"So there you are — you’ve punished yourself already. Us adding to that would just be mean." Letha sat back in her chair. "Besides, there’s no reason for us to punish all of Gryffindor by making you forfeit the match."
Harry smiled, feeling the last of the weight lift off him.
It’s over. It’s all over.
And I’ll never do anything that stupid again.
He recalled something. "Letha, Meghan went down to the greenhouses with Neville. They said they’d be back for breakfast."
"Oh — well, I suppose that’s all right. How much trouble can they get into in a greenhouse?"
"Ask me that again in five years," said Padfoot under his breath.
Draco came running down the boys’ stairs and drew quite a bit of adult attention. Danger was about to get up to say hello to him when Harry caught her arm. He had just remembered something else.
"Something wrong, Harry?"
"No — just a message I was supposed to give you. A while ago."
Danger folded her arms, trying to look stern and mostly succeeding. "Message from whom?"
"He’s a bloke in a portrait who says his name is Al. He said to tell you Alex says hi."
"What does this ‘bloke in a portrait’ look like?"
"A little like me grown up... like my dad, I guess, except he’s got green eyes. His hair isn’t messy, though. And he looks really confident, like he can do anything."
Danger gave a slow smile. "And where exactly is this portrait of... Al?"
"Er... around."
"Around. I see. Well, if you should happen to be... around at any point in the near future, you may tell Al that I say hi back."
"All right." Harry regarded his Pack-mother. "Do you know who he is?"
"I might. Why?"
"Because... I just want to know. He’s a Parselmouth, and I thought it might be nice to find out who other Parselmouths in history have been. Just so I can find out if they were really all Dark or not."
Danger nodded. "A praiseworthy idea. Have you tried asking him who he is?"
"I tried. All he’d say was that he was just an ordinary bloke, but that his family split up in a war — over pureblood stuff."
The dream he’d had that night suddenly rushed back on Harry, and he shivered, remembering the anger in Padfoot’s face and voice.
Tell the truth, Harry, that’s what you were expecting for this little stunt.
And that’s probably what you deserved.
You’re luckier than you know to have a Pack like this.
He realized he was missing what Danger was saying and tuned back in.
"... not to worry about it, okay?"
"’Kay," said Harry, hoping he wasn’t agreeing to anything too crazy.
Danger kissed him on the forehead, then got up to go say hello to Draco and Hermione, who had joined the party at some point while he and Danger were talking.
Harry remained where he was, absorbing the comfortable feeling of being at peace with himself again.
I was stupid. I know I was stupid. But nothing terrible happened, and it’s over now, and I won’t do it again.
"Harry."
He looked up. Hermione was standing in front of him, holding her hand down. He accepted it and got to his feet.
Almost to his surprise, she dropped to one knee in front of him. "It’s yours again," she said quietly, and tilted her head back.
"No," Harry said, somehow knowing what he was about to say was right. "That’s for punishments and stuff. It should be the other way."
Hermione looked at him in confusion, then understanding flared in her eyes. She bowed her head, and Harry rested his hand on the back of her neck, watching her shoulders rise and fall with one breath, then taking it away.
"Neenie," he whispered to her.
She lifted her head and bared her teeth at him for an instant. "There’s no one else here, so I’ll let you get away with it. This time."
She stood up, and Draco took her place. Harry placed his hand on his brother’s head, glorying in the feeling of renewed trust among the siblings.
I am never giving this up, he promised himself as he helped Draco up.
But something was still missing.
Harry looked over at the Pack-parents, who were watching their cubs quietly, and it hit him like a Bludger to the head. He was alpha of the cubs’ Pack — but he had his own alpha as well —
He went to Moony and knelt in front of him, bowing his head.
A flicker of movement to one side caught his eye, and he turned his head slightly to see Hermione kneeling beside him and slightly behind. Turning his head the other way, he wasn’t surprised to see Draco on his other side.
He knew this wouldn’t make sense to almost anyone else he knew — even Ron, usually so ready to accept things, would have trouble with this. It looked medieval, even primitive, but Harry knew it was right.
He waited.
xXxXx
Remus was rather glad Harry couldn’t see his face at the moment — he was, and knew he looked, totally nonplussed.
I assume they’re expecting me to do what Harry did?
I would assume. Danger sounded just as unsure. Even for our cubs, this is odd.
All right. Going with the flow...
Remus started to put his hand on Harry’s head, but something stopped him. A sense that it wasn’t his time yet, that something else had to happen first.
He turned to Aletha and motioned her closer, gesturing to the cubs.
As if she had never had a doubt what to do, Aletha placed a hand gently on the back of Harry’s head, then stepped to one side to do the same to Hermione, then to the other for Draco. When she had finished, Sirius came forward without being asked to take his turn. Danger went next, and Remus was last. When he had finished, he returned to Harry, bent down slightly, and placed a hand under the boy’s elbow, bringing him to standing.
He looked into his Pack-son’s face. A light shone in the green eyes behind the glasses that hadn’t been there when the adults had arrived. Harry was himself again, confident smile and all, and Remus had never been happier to see a transformation, not even one of his own.
He pulled Harry into a tight hug. "The Hufflepuffs won’t know what hit them," he murmured into the black hair.
"They won’t have a chance," answered Harry into Remus’ robes. He pulled away to grin up at Remus. "I’m going for the school speed record for capture of the Snitch. Five minutes fifteen seconds, set in 1824 by Charles Niblock. Ravenclaw."
"Well, we can’t have that. Ravenclaw holding a record. Oy, Sirius — two Galleons says Harry breaks the speed record by thirty seconds."
"What’s this? Speed record?"
Life was back to normal. The entire surreal scene with the children kneeling before their parents, like something from a storybook, might never have happened, Remus thought.
Except that it had, and he suspected it would again. The Pack loved traditions, and never missed an opportunity to create a new one.
Only I hope someone doesn’t have to misbehave this drastically for it to happen again...
He dismissed it from his mind and joined in the conversation.
xXxXx
Neville and Meghan turned up at breakfast rather damp (it was drizzling out) but very happy-looking. The Metallic Marigolds had needed deadheading, it turned out, so the two of them had gone through and done that, and Professor Sprout had caught them at it and awarded Gryffindor fifteen points on the spot.
Ron arrived in the Great Hall a few minutes after Neville and Meghan, and seemed surprised to see the Pack-adults already there. Harry frowned as he saw his friend start along one edge of the Gryffindor table, stop, turn around, and come up the other side — the side where the Pack wasn’t already sitting.
Is something wrong with him now?
But the mystery was solved as Ron slid into a place across from Harry.
Oh. He just wanted to sit with us, and all the seats are taken over here.
I’m stupid.
"Good morning, Ron," said Moony.
"Morning, Mr. Lupin."
"Ron, Ginny says hi," piped up Meghan from her place farther down the table.
"Oh — that was nice of her. Tell her I say hi back, would you, Meghan?"
"All right."
Ron started eating, but it wasn’t at his usual breakneck pace. Today, he seemed slower... almost thoughtful, Harry thought... as if his friend had something on his mind.
Probably thinking about the match. I know I am.
xXxXx
"—And the Quaffle is taken by Katie Bell, it’s Katie Bell for Gryffindor, off towards the Hufflepuff goals, ducks a Bludger, dodges the Keeper — but it’s off the edge of the goal hoop, no good, Keeper Glendys retrieves and passes to Hallman, Paul Hallman for Hufflepuff — Hallman passes to Dowland, Felicia Dowland has the Quaffle — no, she’s passed it to Arnold, it’s Jeremy Arnold with the Quaffle now, speeding toward the goal hoops, really flying there—"
Whack.
"OUCH, Bludger to the elbow and he’s dropped it, nice play by one of the Weasleys, I can’t tell them apart, don’t think anyone can — Spinnet has it now, Alicia Spinnet for Gryffindor, she’s going, she’s going, she’s aiming, Glendys blocking — NO! IT WAS A FAKE! AND GLENDYS WAS FOOLED! GRYFFINDORS SCORE!"
Lee Jordan’s triumphant yell echoed around the stadium, prefacing cheers from slightly less than half the students — the Gryffindors and those Ravenclaws who preferred them over Hufflepuff to win the match — and groans and boos from the rest — the Hufflepuffs, the Ravenclaws cheering for them, and the Slytherins, most of whom detested Gryffindors as a matter of principle.
"How are we for time?" shouted Danger over the crowd noise.
Sirius checked his watch. "Just under four minutes — still good."
It happened in a flash — something welled up inside her, something wild and harsh and rough — it felt almost like her Animagus form, but that only came when she called it — this had come unbidden —
Kill!
She shuddered as the voice rang through her, shaking her as if she were a bell and the voice her clapper.
Cub — in trouble — save him — kill!
Help me!
What’s wrong? Remus’ calm voice soothed her, his mind’s touch on hers was strong and reassuring. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her — he wouldn’t let her hurt anyone —
I don’t know — look — She flung herself open to him. I don’t know what it is — but I can’t stop it! And —
Aletha, beside her, jumped. "Danger — your hair — what’s wrong with you?"
Danger raised a trembling hand to her head, feeling her hair beginning to stand out even more than usual. Something’s about to happen — I know it —
She shrieked mentally as she felt it begin. Somewhere deep inside her, something tore loose from its restraints and howled in savage joy, and power began to swirl around her, intangible at the moment but not for long —
Oh no you don’t, said Remus strictly, half to her, half to whatever it was that was trying to use her.
Abruptly, he was in front of her, down on one knee as the cubs had been that morning —
The cubs — Harry — this is about him, somehow —
But she had no more time for thought. The magic was still building around her and within her, and she still couldn’t control it — it felt like trying to tame a lion with her bare hands —
Which you should be good at, a voice interjected. Since you already have. Arms pulled her down to the floor of the stands, to be held in safety against a strong, warm chest. And I’m going to help you, so you don’t have to do this alone. Now, we have to get control of this — whatever it is. Start reining it in.
I can’t!
You must.
But —
No buts. This power is out for blood, and if we don’t stop it, someone’s going to die. So we are going to stop it. You and I. Remus’ tone took on the "alpha male" shading. Do you understand, female?
She gave a little whine of submission, as she would in Animagus form. Yes. I understand.
Good. Start calling it back in. It came from you, so it should return to you.
Danger called, and met with resistance. The power didn’t want to return to its place within her, leashed and tamed, let out only on occasion — it wanted to be free, striking down everything that came in its way, everything that might threaten or harm the cubs —
No. You come back to me. I will use you when I deem it fit. You are not to act on your own.
The power resisted, trying to lash out. She blocked it, barely, feeling the shock of it reverberate through her — but she had blocked it. The shot had not gone all the way through.
Authority, Remus prompted her. It’s a rebellious cub. Show it your authority.
I don’t have any —
Oh, no? Pretend you just caught Harry pranking your underwear drawer and he took off before you could give him a piece of your mind.
GET BACK HERE!
The power snapped back into her so fast it took her with it. She had only time to call one last warning back.
Something about Harry — protect him —
The last thing she heard was cheering.
xXxXx
The crowd was on its feet as Harry flew a victory lap around the stadium, holding the Snitch high. He’d beaten the record by seventeen seconds — not the thirty Moony had predicted, but still pretty good.
He flew past the Gryffindor section of the stands and held his hand out, collecting high-fives from everyone along the rail — the faces of his Pack flashed past, Ron, Hermione, Draco, Neville, Meghan, all grinning at him or cheering for him —
There was a commotion in the teachers’ section. Harry didn’t bother to look too closely.
Maybe Snape fainted when he saw me get the Snitch.
He grinned at that image as he made his way to the ground.
Padfoot, predictably, was the first one to him, laughing happily and mussing his hair more than it already was. "You won the match, you broke the record, you put Gryffindor in the lead for the House cup, and you won me money off Moony — you should have more days like this, Harry!"
Harry laughed. "I hope I do." He looked behind Padfoot. "Where is Moony? And Danger?"
Padfoot’s face turned solemn. "Something happened during the match. Danger’s unconscious — she’s going to be all right, though, Letha’s with her — and Remus said she said something about you before she passed out. Did you feel anything going on up there? Anything unusual or odd?"
Harry shook his head. "Nothing."
That was all he had time to say, as the first wave of Gryffindors reached them, chanting "Harry! Harry!" and lifting him onto their shoulders. Padfoot was shunted aside, grinning, as they carried Harry away toward the castle for a victory celebration.
This has been one crazy day.
I kind of hope I do have more like it.
xXxXx
Aletha slipped out of the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey had insisted on examining Danger, despite Remus’ assurances that she was perfectly all right and would wake up in her own good time.
He was so sure he didn’t even bother to stay — but I can’t begrudge him and Sirius a little fun and celebrating...
And I’d rather like some myself...
"Mrs. Freeman-Black?"
Aletha jumped. "Heavens, Ron, you startled me!"
"Sorry, I didn’t mean to." The tall, red-haired boy came forward from the shadows. "Can I talk to you? Please?"
"Is something wrong?"
"I don’t know. I kind of have some questions I hoped you could answer."
"Well, if I can, I will. Shall we find a classroom?"
xXxXx
Harry tapped on the door of the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey opened it. "I suppose you want to see her," she said before Harry could say anything.
"Yes, ma’am."
"Well, all right, but ten minutes only, mind. And you’re not to go nagging her to come to that noisy party I know you’re having up in that Tower of yours."
She opened the door farther, and Harry slid past her with a nod of thanks.
He almost didn’t recognize the pale, bald man in the second bed from the door, until he saw the pile of purple fabric sitting on the nightstand — an unwrapped turban.
Professor Quirrell? What’s he doing here?
The man’s eyes were closed, so Harry didn’t bother him, moving instead to the bed behind the screens, which held a sleepy-looking Danger.
"There you are," she said, smiling at him. "I thought you’d be along."
"Are you all right?" Harry sat down in the chair next to her bed.
"Oh, I’ll be fine. Just a little backlash. I told Remus, and now I’m telling you — get yourself off to that party of yours. Don’t be sitting here with silly old me. You need to stock up on Quidditch victory parties. You might miss out on more of them than you know."
Her voice had gone dreamy in a way that reminded Harry distinctly of Luna.
"But if you want to stay, you go ahead and stay for a while. Just don’t go to sleep. That’s my job." Her hand brushed uncertainly against her cheek, then reached out waveringly towards Harry, and he leaned in to help her complete the scent-touch, then returned it. Danger smiled, and her eyes drifted shut.
Harry yawned. He felt a bit sleepy, but he wouldn’t go to sleep, he told himself. He would just sit here with Danger for a minute, and then he would go back upstairs and finish the party —
A rapping on the door startled him.
"Oh, what now," he heard Madam Pomfrey mutter as she went to answer it. The door opened. "Yes?" said her voice, sounding — brisk, Harry decided. Neither friendly nor unfriendly.
"I wish to see Quirinus." The voice was familiar — more than familiar — and it sent chills down Harry’s back.
"He’s not in any shape to receive visitors at the moment, Severus—"
"I am well aware of that, Poppy, I merely wish to see him. Alone."
There was something in Snape’s tone that seemed to cow even the usually tyrannical Madam Pomfrey. "Very well, then, but you’re not to wake him, mind."
"I do not intend to."
Harry heard the door of Madam Pomfrey’s office close. Carefully, he peered through the slit where the fabric of the screen didn’t quite join up with the metal frame.
Snape was bending over Quirrell — doing something to his face — now he was standing up and taking out his wand — he said something in a low tone, and Harry jumped as a small bolt of blue light shot from the wand tip to Quirrell’s face, lighting it up for a moment —
"Can you hear me?" asked Snape quietly, putting his wand away.
"Yes." Quirrell’s voice was flat, with no trace of his usual stutter.
"How were you rendered unconscious?"
"By magic."
"A Stunning Spell?"
"No."
"Some other form of magic?"
"Yes."
"Who rendered you unconscious?"
"I do not know."
"Very well." Snape leaned closer to the man, and Harry caught only the words "door" and "Halloween." He strained his ears, listening for Quirrell’s answer —
"S-S-Severus!"
Snape jerked upright as if he’d been burned. "Quirinus," he said dourly.
"W-what were you d-d-"
Snape didn’t even wait for the man to finish. "Pardon me for startling you. The darkness in here makes it difficult to see sometimes. I was concerned that you might not be breathing."
"Oh, n-no, I’m fine, th-thank you." Quirrell hadn’t sat up, Harry noticed, he was conducting the conversation flat on his back.
"So I see. I take my leave, then." Snape swept out, not bothering to close the door behind him, which suited Harry fine. He waited until Quirrell closed his eyes again, then sped out of the hospital wing, his mind racing.
What did Snape want to ask Quirrell — and why?
xXxXx
Aletha climbed through the portrait hole and beckoned Remus to her.
"We have a situation," she said, her tone half-joking, half-serious.
"What kind of situation?"
"The kind that stems from Ron Weasley not being as stupid as everyone seems to think he is."