Living without Danger
Chapter 7: A Second and A First (Year 1)
By Anne B. Walsh
Chapter 7: A Second and a First
Draco closed the door of Snape’s office, leaned against the wall, and tried not to groan. It wasn’t easy. His back hurt, his knees were sore, and his fingers were throbbing.
All right. It was funny when Ron’s mum threatened to make him scrub the ceiling on his hands and knees last summer. It was funny when Ron said Snape might make me do it. And it was funny when I wrote it in the letter.
But when Snape actually made me do it...
Draco had opened the door of Snape’s office at eight o’clock and been confronted with some kind of golden mist hanging in the air. "Walk through it, Mr. Black, it won’t hurt you," Snape had said from within. Draco had done so — and fallen to the ceiling, his personal gravity apparently reversed. Snape had handed him a charmed bucket of water and a scrub brush and instructed him to clean the ceiling.
And I made a fuss like a bloody Hufflepuff. Draco made a face at the memory of his own timid voice. "But sir, what if I fall?"
"If you fall, you shall acquire a few bruises, and I shall beg forgiveness of your guardians on my knees, Mr. Black. To work."
Which was a Snape-ish way of saying he was sure I wouldn’t fall.
And I didn’t.
I just hurt all over.
I wonder if Danger and Letha and Mrs. Weasley do things like this every day.
He snorted at his stupidity. No, you idiot, they have magic to do it for them. Snape could do it with magic too, but why bother when it’s so much more fun to make students do it for you?
Come on, Draco, time to get your little bum moving. You’re going to be late for den.
Draco made a rude gesture at the closed door and turned to head upstairs.
Vincent Crabbe was standing in his way.
"Excuse me," Draco said as politely as he could. "I’d like to get by."
Crabbe didn’t move.
"All right, I guess I can go the other way." Draco turned around.
Gregory Goyle was directly behind him, blocking the hallway in that direction.
"I don’t suppose you’ll let me through."
Goyle stared at him impassively.
"Didn’t think so."
"Nott wants to see you," said a voice from behind Draco. He turned. Dudley Dursley was standing beside Crabbe — Draco marveled that there was enough room in the hallway for both of them to fit in it at once. "In our common room. Right away."
"In your common room? I don’t even know where it is." Too late, Draco realized that Goyle had just grabbed him from behind. "Hoy, what—"
Dursley grinned nastily. "That’s why he sent this." He held up his hand. In it there was a strip of cloth.
Draco considered trying to fight, then decided to let it happen. He was in no shape to fight even one of them, much less all three, and he didn’t think they’d try anything in the middle of the school. He contented himself with giving Dursley his nastiest look as the little prat tied the blindfold on him.
He had no idea how far they walked — far enough for Goyle to run him into at least two walls — but it was only about three minutes before he heard Dursley say "Lethifold," which was followed by a grinding sound. A pause, and then he was propelled forward by a shove from one of the muscle-bound twits, hitting his shoulder painfully on what felt like a stone wall.
"Not like that, you idiots, you weren’t supposed to hurt him!" said Nott’s voice, sounding annoyed. "You can take it off now, Black, you’re where you’re supposed to be."
That’s only one man’s opinion.
Draco undid the blindfold and looked around. The Slytherin common room was a long, low, underground room with rough stone walls and ceiling and high-backed wooden chairs scattered around. This place would give me claustrophobia. Do they actually like it in here?
Nott was sitting in one of the chairs, his back to the room’s fireplace, which had an elaborately carved wooden mantelpiece and stone side panels. "Have a seat," he said, waving at one of the chairs. Draco sank into it, trying to keep his wince internal, and realized too late that it had been placed directly under one of the round, greenish lamps hanging from the ceiling on chains, which provided the room with light. Nott could see his face clearly, but he couldn’t see Nott’s very well at all.
Score one for him. Actually, score a lot for him. What does he want?
"I have to apologize for those three," Nott said, waving at Dursley, Crabbe, and Goyle, who had occupied a green leather couch against the opposite wall from the fireplace. "I asked them to ask you politely to come and talk with me. Obviously, they misunderstood."
Draco nodded, keeping his face neutral. Misunderstood, my arse. You probably told them to do exactly what they did, and now you’re trying to play the "good guy, bad guy" game. With you in the role of the good guy.
"But, since you’re here," Nott continued, "we might as well talk."
"What did you want to talk about?"
"I just wanted to ask you some questions. I think we got off on the wrong foot, you and I, and I wanted to find out why."
Draco stared at Nott. Is this bloke for real? "Practically the first thing you ever said to me was an insult. You and your goons keep harassing me and my friends and trying to get us in trouble. You even threatened us once. And now you want to know why I don’t like you?"
Nott frowned. "When did I threaten you?"
"I’m not playing this game. This is stupid. I’m leaving." Draco stood up. Crabbe and Goyle moved to block the exit.
"You’re not leaving," Nott said casually. "Not until I’m done with you."
Draco sat back down, thinking quickly.
I need to find another way out of here. And fast.
His Pack-pendant was warm against his chest. Absently, he rubbed his hand against it, making it look like he was scratching. Come on, cunning like a fox. You want to live to get to den-night or not, here, Draco?
In the next instant, a plan presented itself to him.
"Fine, I’m not going anywhere. But can we sit closer to the fire? I’m cold."
"Fine with me." Nott got up and moved to a chair next to the fireplace, Dursley coming over to sit behind him. Crabbe and Goyle didn’t move from their posts at the door. Draco opted to sit on the floor in front of the fire.
Always put yourself lower than the other person, if you can, Padfoot’s voice echoed in his mind. It makes him think he has the advantage.
Not to mention, sitting here put him closer to where he’d need to be.
"So when did I threaten you, exactly?" asked Nott again.
"Back in September, the day of our first flying lesson. You came over to our table at dinner and agreed to meet Harry in the trophy room at midnight."
Nott scowled. "He lied. He swore he’d be there, and he lied."
"He didn’t swear. You did."
"And you went and told McGonagall on me."
"Like you weren’t planning on telling Snape or Filch or someone."
"Notts aren’t informants."
"No, they’re just toadies to whatever Dark Lord happens to come along."
"Are you calling my father a toady?" Nott said angrily, standing up.
"Yes." Draco stood up too. The conversation was going just the way he needed it to. The fact that he was enjoying baiting Nott shouldn’t matter, he told himself firmly. "He was a Death Eater, and that means he kissed Lord Moldy-wart’s ugly snaky arse on a regular basis, and he liked it."
Nott was advancing on him, and Draco carefully backed away in just the right direction, towards one side of the fireplace, one particular spot on the wall...
"I ought to take you apart and Vanish you piece by piece," Nott snarled.
"I’d like to see you try." Draco felt carved stone against his back and knew, or rather hoped, he was in position. "Thank you, Salazar Slytherin," he said mockingly, "for founding the official house of toad-eaters and Dark idiots."
Nott, about to retort, instead stared at Draco. Or rather, past him, at the wall behind him.
Yes! Draco could feel a slight draught from behind him, and his fingers could no longer find the wall. He was sure that if he turned around, he would see a large hole in the wall, corresponding exactly with the Gryffindor common room’s entrance to the Hogwarts Den.
"What’s that?" Dursley asked from behind Nott, staring.
"Secret passage," Draco said nonchalantly. "There’s lots of them around if you know where to find them." He reached above his head, feeling for the bar he knew should be there, and found it, set in the wall above the hole. "Well, it’s been delightful talking to you, but I really should be going now. Have a nice night." He hoisted himself into the hole, pulling his feet in after him.
"Get him!" Nott yelled, pointing at the hole.
"Thank you, Salazar," Draco whispered quickly, and the segment of wall slid out from its hidden slot. Dursley, who had started to rush forward, stepped back in shock, and Draco couldn’t resist waggling his fingers in a snide good-bye wave as the wall closed him off from the Slytherin common room.
Well, that went well.
He lit his wand, got himself turned around, and pushed off. This slide went uphill, which was against all laws of physics but well within the boundaries of magic. Draco braced himself for a sudden drop, but discovered he needn’t have bothered. This passage ended, not with the opening of the floor in midslide, but a gentle stop and the opening of the ceiling, and Draco found himself under the bed in what was certainly the green bedroom of the Hogwarts Den.
"Paid a visit to your friendly neighborhood dungeons, did you?" asked Al from his frame, which the boys had hung on the wall of the green bedroom at their previous den-night, as Draco crawled out from under the bed. "You’d better restrict that door so they can’t open it. They’re Slytherins, they’ll figure out the password eventually."
"How do I do that?"
"Go back under there and tell the passage who to respond to. Like so. ‘Salazar says, respond only to Harry Potter, Draco Black, Hermione Granger-Lupin...’ You get the idea."
Draco raised his eyebrows. "‘Salazar says’?"
"I didn’t come up with it, I just know it."
"You seem to know my family pretty well for a portrait."
"Like I said, word gets around."
Draco crawled back under the bed and locked the passage against anyone but himself, Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Neville. After a moment’s thought, he added Ginny, Luna, and Meghan to the list.
Though what they’d be doing in the Slytherin common room I have no idea.
"And you probably need to get back to the Gryffindor common room now," Al said as Draco re-emerged.
"Yeah, that’d be good."
"Word to the wise. Say ‘stealth mode’ before you say the password to any of the doors, and no one will notice them, or you. They’ll just think they didn’t see you leave or come in the usual way."
"Hey, that’s great — so we don’t have to wait for the common room to clear out every time we go to den! Thanks, Al!"
"Anytime, little fox."
Draco shook his head. "Uh-uh. Only the Pack calls me that."
"Please?" Al looked soulful.
"All right, puppy-dog eyes on a man your age are just wrong. Stop. Please." Draco averted his own eyes.
"All right, I’ll stop. But can I give you one more piece of advice?"
"Sure."
"You don’t have to cram yourselves into one bedroom every time you come down here. Just tell the main room what you want, and it’ll change to accommodate."
"Cool."
"If there’s going to be eight of you next year, you’re going to need more space than just one bedroom," Al finished.
"True enough — but there’s only going to be seven of us next year. Meghan’s not coming till we’re fourth years."
Al shrugged. "Whatever you say. It’s getting late, you’d better get upstairs. Have a good night."
"You too."
"Thanks."
Draco went into the main room. "Padded floor, no table and chairs?" he said tentatively, and pressed himself against the wall in slight alarm as the floor rippled under his feet, developing a soft surface, and the table and chairs simply vanished.
Well, that works.
He walked across the newly open space and into the red bedroom. Three jumps, "stealth mode, thank you, Godric," and one uphill slide later, he was climbing out of a hole in the Gryffindor common room wall, in full sight of more than half the house including his Pack, and no one even looked his way.
I think I like this.
"There you are," said Harry in relief as Draco joined the group. "We were about to go looking for you — the pendants heated up, and your carving was glowing, but then they cooled back off, and we figured that meant you were all right."
"You wouldn’t have found me anyway. Nott had his goons drag me off to the Slytherin common room. And I do mean drag."
"What did he want?" asked Ron.
"He said he just wanted to talk, but that’s kind of hard to believe when he had Dursley, Crabbe, and Goyle ambush me outside Snape’s office, blindfold me, and shove me around the dungeons for a while. On the upside, if we can find the entrance to the Slytherin common room, I know their password now."
"How’d you get out?" Neville asked almost fearfully.
Draco grinned. "I found another door to the Hogwarts Den."
"In the Slytherin common room?" Ron asked incredulously.
"Slytherins aren’t all bad," said Hermione repressively. "Possibly."
Draco went on, ignoring this. "I figured if the one in ours led to the red bedroom, then there might be one in theirs leading to the green bedroom, and I was right — only differences are, it lets out under the bed instead of above it, and the password’s ‘Thank you, Salazar.’"
"What does it look like?" Neville wanted to know. "The Slytherin common room?"
"Dungeon-esque. Not very comfortable. I like it better up here."
"So now we have a secret way into the Slytherin common room," said Ron, grinning. "Wicked."
"We’re not using the Den to play pranks," said Harry sternly. "That’s not what it’s for." Then he returned Ron’s grin. "Besides, we don’t need to. We have the Map to show us where the door is, and now we’ve got their password."
"And that’s not all," said Draco. "Watch this."
He demonstrated "stealth mode."
"So we can go to den anytime," said Hermione happily. "Is everyone done with their homework?"
"Nothing says we can’t take it down there with us if we’re not," said Harry, closing his Charms book. "Everyone all right with going down sooner rather than later?"
"Won’t people notice that we’re not in bed?" asked Ron.
"Not if we pull our curtains, they shouldn’t. They’ll just think they missed us going upstairs, and we’ll be awake in time in the morning to get back to the dorms before they find out we’re not there."
"I’ll go," said Neville, putting the stopper into his ink bottle. "I just need to get changed."
"We all do," said Harry. "Meet back here in ten minutes?"
It was agreed, and the cubs’ Pack headed for their dormitories. Draco grinned to himself as he followed Ron up the stairs.
And I didn’t even tell them about the main room’s new look.
xXxXx
As 17 November approached, Harry began to feel anxious. He loved flying, he knew he was good, but this would be his first time flying in front of so many people — what if he messed up or fell off his broom? What if Slytherin got the Snitch and he lost his first match ever?
"Don’t be stupid, Harry, you’ll be fine," Ron told him in the common room the night of the 16th. "You’re better than Charlie ever was, everyone says so. You’re the best they’ve had at Hogwarts for years."
"Terence Higgs Seeks for Slytherin," said Fred, dropping into an armchair nearby. "He’s not bad, but you can beat him, Harry. Just fly like you do at our place."
"There aren’t hundreds of people looking at me at your place," Harry reminded them.
"You’re not shy, are you?" asked George in shock.
"No!"
"It’s just stage fright," said Draco. "You’ll do fine once you get out there, Harry, you’ve been waiting for this your whole life."
"I know."
But this is one time I wish my whole life was a little longer.
xXxXx
Harry woke up at 6:30 the next morning and was unable to get back to sleep. Finally, at eight o’clock, he admitted defeat and got up. Everyone else was still asleep, and he had no intention of waking anyone up. He got dressed quietly, left the dormitory, got halfway down the stairs, and froze.
Two of the common room sofas were occupied.
Harry grinned as he recognized the occupants.
He went down the rest of the stairs very quietly, came around to the front of the couch with more people on it, and covered one mouth while gently shaking its owner’s shoulder.
Grey eyes snapped open.
Harry touched a finger to his lips. The dark head nodded.
"Want to see our Den?" he asked in a whisper. Another nod.
He led the way to the fireplace, opened the entrance in stealth mode, and helped his sister in, waiting a suitable amount of time before climbing in himself and closing the wall behind him.
"This is so cool!" squealed Meghan before Harry’d even had a chance to get off the bed. She was bouncing around the red bedroom, looking at everything. "I love it!"
"Wait until you see the rest of it," said Harry with a smile, intercepting a hug and feeling his spirits lift. Meghan’s excitement, as always, was contagious.
They explored the Den together, and Harry introduced Meghan to Al and vice versa. "Quite a lovely young lady," Al said, bowing to her. "Hogwarts welcomes you with open arms, m’dear." Meghan giggled and curtsied in return.
Once they had seen all the rooms, they returned to the Gryffindor common room, again utilizing stealth mode. They didn’t need to, as it happened — the Pack-parents were all still asleep — but it never hurt to be careful.
"Now we can have some fun," Harry whispered to Meghan, and detailed what he wanted her to do. Meghan nodded happily and tiptoed around behind her sleeping parents. Harry positioned himself behind the other sofa.
This is so easy it’s almost wrong.
He held up fingers — one, two, three.
"BOO!" they both said aloud.
The results were almost exactly what Harry had hoped for. Moony’s entire body jerked, Danger shot upright, Letha gave a little scream, and Padfoot almost fell off the couch, saving himself at the last minute by grabbing hold of the arm.
"Aww," said Meghan in disappointment.
Harry doubled over laughing.
"You horrible little brat," said Danger, glaring at him. "And here I was going to say how happy I was to see you."
"I knew we shouldn’t have kept you," said Padfoot in a mock-angry tone. "You’re a bad influence on my sweet little Pearl. She’d never do anything like that to her poor old Dadfoot on her own."
Harry got himself under enough control to stand up. "It was her idea," he claimed.
"Really?" asked Moony, giving Harry the "don’t-mess-with-me-now" look.
Harry grinned and shook his head.
"But I’m sure it could have been." Moony arched his back, stretching. "Meghan’s no slouch when it comes to pranks. You wait and see, Padfoot. One of these days, she’s going to surprise everyone."
"She already did," said Letha ruefully. "My heart is still racing."
"Good practice for the match, then," said Padfoot. "It should be quite a game. The Weasley twins for Beaters, and I understand you’ve got an all-female Chaser lineup. Are they any good?"
Harry nodded. "Draco’ll have to work hard if he wants to be on the team next year. Ron, too. Wood’s an excellent Keeper."
"I’m sure they’ll qualify for reserves," said Danger. "They’ve got a whole year to practice. Speaking of them, where are they?"
"Almost everyone has a lie-in on weekends," explained Harry.
"You can’t have forgot about that from being a kid, Danger," said Letha. "Stay up late and sleep late whenever you possibly can. It’s fun."
"What do you mean, forgot about it, I still do it. But I thought they’d be up early, being excited. I’m excited. My first-ever Quidditch match."
"That’s true, you’ve never seen a professional game," said Moony. "We’ll have to find some time to get everyone to a match this summer."
"Ballycastle Bats forever," proclaimed Padfoot solemnly.
"Not on your life. Wimbourne Wasps or nothing."
Just in time to avert the latest outbreak of what Harry knew was a long-standing quarrel, Hermione came flying down the girls’ stairs, shoes untied, shirt half-buttoned, hair standing out wildly around her head. "You’re here, you’re here!"
"We’re here, we’re here," teased Moony, catching her as she leapt at him from the third stair and twirling her around. "How are you, Kitten?"
"I’m fine — I got an eleven out of ten on my Transfiguration homework, and Professor Snape said my potion was marginally acceptable!"
"High praise, considering the source. Well done." Moony put Hermione down on her feet, and she ran to hug Danger, then Padfoot and Letha.
"Nervous?" Moony asked Harry softly, coming over to him.
"A little," Harry admitted.
"That’s normal. But you will do well, Greeneyes. I know it. I think I’ve told you this, but do you know what you said the first time I ever took you flying?"
Harry shook his head. "I don’t remember." In truth, he did, but he wanted to hear it again.
"You said, ‘Fasser, Moony!’" His Pack-father imitated Harry’s baby tones, and they both laughed.
"Win or lose, just your being out there makes us proud," Moony went on. Then he lowered his voice conspiratorially. "But don’t go and lose your first match to Slytherin. Sirius would never let you live it down."
Harry nodded. "All right. I won’t."
And for perhaps the first time, he felt as if he wouldn’t.
xXxXx
Minerva McGonagall pulled Remus aside just as the Pack was setting out for the Quidditch pitch. Go on without me, he told Danger. This sounds important, and I know how to get there.
"Andy!" Sirius exclaimed in delight as he saw who was sitting in the stands.
Andromeda Tonks got up with a smile to hug her cousin. "Dora couldn’t get off training, but she sends her regards," she said. "Hello, everyone, how have you been?"
"Quite good, actually," said Aletha, hugging Andy in her turn. "Life’s been about as normal as it ever is at our house. It’s much quieter with three of the cubs here instead of there."
"I would imagine." Andromeda sat down again next to Danger. "I was hoping to talk to Remus," she said quietly. "Is he here?"
Danger closed her eyes, as if in thought — in reality, she was tuning in to what Remus saw — the stands around the pitch, drawing steadily nearer. "He’s on his way over, Minerva wanted a word with him before the match."
"Excellent. I understand your Harry’s playing today."
"Yes, we’re all so excited."
"Where’s Meghan?" Andy looked around. "I thought she’d be wild to see the game."
"Oh, she is — she’s sitting with Hermione and Draco and their friends Ron and Neville, down in the student section. Look, there they are — Ron’s a Weasley, so you can see him a mile away..."
Remus arrived in the stands and shook hands with Andromeda. We need to talk later, he told Danger. Nothing terribly urgent, but Pack business.
"I’m glad to see you in good health, Remus," said Andy, flicking her eyes upward for a brief second. The Lupins didn’t need to touch mentally to know she was referring to the recently passed full moon.
"I have my beautiful Danger to thank, as always," said Remus lightly.
Andromeda leaned closer. "I was hoping to speak with you about that very subject. Ask some questions. Off the record, of course, for my own personal interest. But I thought it might be of some use to you to have a Healer’s opinion — if I’m out of line, feel free to tell me to bugger off, but this is something of a once-in-a-lifetime chance, I felt I simply had to take it..."
"Not at all," said Danger, when Remus gave her the mental go-ahead. "Would you like to come over for tea, say tomorrow afternoon? Four o’clock?"
Andy sighed. "I’m working tomorrow. Can we make it Sunday week?"
"Of course."
"Thank you, you have no idea what this means to me — oh, look, here they come..."
The Gryffindor team was indeed walking out onto the field. Sirius gave a two-fingered whistle as Harry emerged from the locker room, and he wasn’t the only one. Most of the school seemed to be rooting for the Gryffindors.
"Some things never change," said Aletha with a reminiscent smile.
The team captains shook hands, Madam Hooch blew her whistle, and the game began.
Gryffindor scored within the first few minutes, prompting massive cheers from the stands. Harry, circling high above, came down long enough to slap the hand of the scorer, a tall black girl, before returning to his station.
"Not seeing too much action, is he?" asked Remus, peering up at the boy.
"It’s strategy, Moony," Sirius said almost absently, watching George Weasley going after a Bludger. "The higher he is, the more he can see, and the less likely a Bludger will go after him, they tend to stay in the thick of things — ah, I lied, sorry."
The other Bludger, the one George wasn’t currently belting at a Slytherin Chaser, had just rocketed upwards, straight at Harry, who dodged it easily. Fred followed it up and beat it back down towards the game.
"What are those things made of, anyway?" Danger asked, watching the black ball slam hard into the Slytherin Keeper, Miles Bletchley, allowing one of the other Gryffindor Chasers to score.
Sirius pumped his fist in the air before answering. "Bludgers? I think in the professional leagues they’re iron, but at Hogwarts they’re wood. Keeps things from getting too out of hand."
"Usually," Remus corrected blandly. "If a Beater hits them hard enough, funny things can happen."
"If you’re referring to our seventh year, they never proved anything."
"Oh, cut the crap, Sirius, I watched you hex your bat," Aletha said impatiently.
Andy chuckled. "Oh, what did he do?"
"Charmed it to turn whatever it hit into iron temporarily," answered Aletha promptly. "Somehow the effect lasted just long enough for the Bludger to hit the opposing player, then wore off."
"James was none too pleased when he accidentally flew into the path of one you hit," recalled Remus. "It almost knocked him off his broom."
Danger laughed, then booed as a Slytherin Chaser slipped past Wood and scored. Something caught her eye, and she turned her head to follow it. "Look, it’s Harry, there he goes!"
Everyone’s heads jerked up. Harry was indeed speeding earthwards in a sharp dive. "Does he see the Snitch, d’you think?" asked Sirius, leaning forward in his excitement.
"No, he’s got a Bludger on his tail," Aletha said, her voice sharp with worry. "Look, it’s trying to pick him off."
The black ball was indeed following Harry as closely as it could, trying to keep up with him as he swerved and dodged.
Sirius frowned. "Something’s not right here. Bludgers don’t behave like that."
"Well, this Bludger obviously is," said Aletha tartly. "So someone must have tampered with it."
"Wood’s the captain," said Remus, looking down the pitch to the Gryffindor goals. "Why hasn’t he called for time-out?"
"He may not have seen it yet," Danger said. "It’s only just started."
"It’s his job to see it," said Sirius angrily. "He’s supposed to be watching his team, making sure they’re all right..." He stopped, eyes widening.
Danger gasped as she felt what Sirius obviously already had.
"What’s wrong?" Andy asked, seeing the expressions on four faces change from annoyed or angry to fearful.
"It has to be him," said Aletha, staring around at the Pack. "There’s no one else in any kind of bad situation..."
Sirius yanked his pendants from his robes, looked at them, and swore under his breath. "It is him."
"What’s him?" Andromeda looked highly confused.
"The pendants tell us if someone is in trouble," explained Remus, staring out at the pitch, where Harry was still trying to shake off the Bludger. "And they’ve just activated for Harry."
"We have to do something," murmured Danger. "But what?"
"We can’t try anything wanded," said Aletha, following Harry’s progress with her eyes. "Too much chance of hitting one of the other players. But we can’t just sit here..." The frustration in her voice was almost tangible.
Remus straightened suddenly. "Everyone, quiet." His voice carried authority. "I know what to do."
Sirius was about to ask what, but Danger gave him the Granger-Lupin glare, and he closed his mouth.
Harry was above the crowd now, and the Bludger seemed to have vanished, but the pendants were still cold. It’s too calm, Danger thought worriedly. It’s too calm, I don’t like it —
She cried out involuntarily. The Bludger had come seemingly out of nowhere and slammed into Harry’s right side — he was reeling on his broom, his arm clamped to his side, held at an unnatural angle and obviously broken — Aletha’s lips were almost white, she was biting them so hard — the Bludger was turning around for another attack —
When it burst into flame and fell from the sky, ashes before it hit the ground.
The chain around Danger’s neck returned to its normal temperature in an instant, as if it had never been anything else.
Why didn’t I think of that? she asked conversationally.
I don’t know. But I’m glad one of us did.
Harry had sent his broom into a gentle dive, his face completely chalk-white. Madam Hooch’s whistle blew for time-out. The Pack rose as one and hurried to the stairs, united in their resolve to be there when he reached the ground. A commotion in the student section caught Danger’s eye — she had no doubt the other cubs were on their way to the stairs as well.
Sirius reached Harry’s side just as the boy’s feet touched the ground. Harry’s lips were a thin line, his face drawn — he was obviously in a lot of pain. Danger watched Sirius gently help Harry sit down on the ground, carefully avoiding touching the hurt arm.
"Can he play?" Oliver Wood panted, dropping from his broomstick beside Sirius and Harry as the rest of the Pack caught up with them. "Harry, are you all right to go on?"
Harry shook his head. "No need," he said with a small smile, and held up his left hand.
The Golden Snitch was beating its wings against his fingers.
Wood let out a whoop of joy. "Potter’s got the Snitch!" he shouted towards Madam Hooch. "Gryffindor wins!"
The stands erupted with joyful shouts.
"Come on, Greeneyes, let’s get you to the hospital wing," Sirius said, drawing his wand to conjure a stretcher.
"Don’t, please," Harry protested as the other cubs, Ron, and Neville came running up. "My arm got hurt, not my leg."
"And jarring a broken bone is very bad for it," said Aletha sternly. "On you get."
Harry sighed, but allowed Sirius to guide the stretcher underneath him, although he positively refused to lie down on it, sitting cross-legged instead.
"Does it hurt a lot, Harry?" asked Meghan, slipping her hand into Harry’s unhurt one.
The bigger boy smiled at his sister. "Not as much as it did, Pearl. I think you have magic hands."
"You can ride with Harry if you like," suggested Sirius. Meghan needed no second invitation, climbing eagerly but carefully onto the stretcher and allowing herself to be borne in state towards the castle.
"He’ll be all right," said Remus, laying an arm gently on Danger’s shoulders as they watched the little parade move toward the castle. "Madam Pomfrey’s excellent with broken bones."
"Remus, Danger, a word, if I might?" said Dumbledore’s voice from beside them.
"Of course, Headmaster," said Remus as Danger nodded.
"I was hoping you might be able to shed some light on the spontaneous combustion of the Bludger."
Remus looked carefully around the pitch, then held out his hand. A tiny flame danced in his palm. Danger touched her finger to it, lighting it as she might a candle, and held it up for Dumbledore’s observation.
"I... see," the Headmaster said slowly. "And from whence comes this rather interesting power?"
A chuckle passed between the Lupins mentally. "How much time do you have?" Remus asked aloud.
"A short version will suffice for the moment, but I would greatly like to hear the full version — provided you are willing to tell it — perhaps later this afternoon, if you and the rest of the Pack will accept an invitation to tea."
"Short version, then, it was a gift," said Danger. "It comes from the same general source these do." She hooked a finger around her Pack-pendant chain and brought them out. "I think we’ve told you about them."
"Yes. But not about this."
"An oversight on our part," said Remus smoothly, closing his palm and snuffing the flame out as Danger blew out the one on her finger. "We apologize."
Dumbledore nodded. "Is three-thirty an acceptable time for tea, in my office?"
"Of course."
The Headmaster gave them a slight bow, then turned to go back to the castle.
An oversight? Danger asked.
Poetic license. It doesn’t sound particularly good to say "Yes, we decided not to tell you that we’d been gifted with power over fire by the daughter of Godric Gryffindor."
True enough. Danger frowned, thinking. Does he know about this?
Our connection? No, I don’t think he does.
All in favor of leaving it that way?
Aye, Remus said promptly.
Aye, Danger agreed. Some things should be private.
So true. Remus then proceeded to make a detailed suggestion about something he wanted to stay private, which made Danger blush furiously and giggle like a schoolgirl as they made their way up to the castle.
xXxXx
Gryffindor had won, one hundred seventy to ten.
As Sirius said when Harry joined them at lunch, "Not too bad for your first game."