Surpassing Danger
Chapter 67: Hail and Farewell (Year 7)
By Anne B. Walsh
Author Notes:
Some sadness, more happiness, still more tidying up, and a few things I hope will be surprises to all…
On the morning of the eighth of November, sixteen years to the day after she'd first dreamed of marrying a man she'd never met, the woman called Danger stood before a mirror, studying the white gown she'd found waiting for her when she awakened that morning. The material lay against her skin as soft as any cloud, from the gauzy sleeves, embroidered with rampant lions and stalks of grain, to the gently curving neckline with its little ruffle of lace, to the softly layered skirt which flowed sleekly with her every step.
"Hello, Mrs. Lupin," she murmured to her reflection. "It's nice to meet you."
"As if that's not who you are already," said Aletha from behind her, straightening the shoulder of her own gown of deep, rich blue. "And he's not peeking, is he?"
"No, he's not." Danger chuckled. "I won't let him. But truly, no, I wasn't. I always hung onto the Granger part of it, so Neenie wouldn't feel…left out, I suppose. And then she took the Lupin for herself, added it on the way I did, and made me wonder why I'd never done that in the first place."
"And one of these fine days we'll be doing this for her, just before she becomes Mrs. Hermione Weasley." Aletha picked up a delicate golden circlet from which descended two filmy swathes of material. "May I?"
"No one better." Danger stood very still, allowing her friend to lay the coronet gently on her curls and arrange her veils, one down her back, the other over her face. "How are things going out there?"
"Like a dream." Aletha smirked at Danger's groan. "You didn't really expect me to ignore that easy a straight line, did you?"
"I shouldn't have. But silly me, I did." Danger turned to look at her friend through the slight misting the veil laid over her vision, ignoring the possibility that some of it might also be due to tears. "I wonder sometimes what I've done to deserve this," she said quietly. "How I can possibly have such amazing friends as you and Sirius, and this incredible man who loves me so very much, and those mad, marvelous miracles we call the cubs. It can't be just because I had a dream, or even because I believed in it…"
"It's not." Aletha smiled, though her own eyes were shimmering bright, and drew her wand to conjure Danger a handkerchief. "Millions of people have dreams, and I'd imagine most of them believe in those dreams. But you acted on your dream, Danger. Maybe you didn't go out looking for it, but you didn't ignore it when it fell into your lap, either. And then, once it was happening, you refused to run away or back down when things got complicated and frightening. You stood your ground and you fought like the mother wolf you are, and that's what brought you here and now. What brought us all."
Danger laughed shakily through her tears. "Aletha Carina Black, if it weren't for smear-proof makeup, I would be so angry with you right now!"
The Pack-sisters embraced once, tightly, then left the small antechamber where they'd been making their final preparations. In the entrance hall of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore and the entirety of the Pride awaited them, just as Danger had dreamed it all those years ago on the first den-night the Pack had ever known—
And it really is just like I dreamed it. Danger had to stifle a sound which might have been either a laugh or a sob as she caught sight of Fox, on one knee between Meghan and Hermione. From his impeccably combed white-blond hair to the wicked gleam in his silver eyes, he was the image of the handsome young man she'd seen that night, a perfect foil for Harry, sporting a look which could have descended equally from the line of Malfoy or of Beauvoi.
That story came full-circle in the end. But then, the best ones always do. Watching Aletha move down the line of kneeling cubs, murmuring a few words to each, Danger smiled to herself. I suppose that means mine and Remus's is one of the best as well…
In the side chamber where he was riding herd on the groom, Sirius frowned. Something about Remus's expression didn't seem right for a man who was about to celebrate a magical wedding ceremony with a woman about whom he'd been crazy for over fifteen years, and who also happened to have saved his life.
"You all right?" he asked, flicking a bit of overcooked rice off the shoulder of his dark red dress robes (Peeves had ambushed them earlier and got off one balloon filled with the soggy white gunk before Remus's firmly voiced Go away had taken effect). "You look like your dog just died."
Too late, he realized why these words seemed familiar to him.
Well, I suppose his laughing his arse off is preferable to that weird sad look he had going on…
Remus didn't know if he could have explained to Sirius what he'd been thinking. For that matter, he wasn't sure about it himself. He'd been considering his own growing-up (surprisingly happy, despite the ever-present fear centered around full moons), the childhoods he'd been able to give his cubs (once again, achieving an unexpected level of stability and normality, if with their own Marauder twist), and the life his daughter Nadia would know.
Nadia Abigail, for surely no little girl ever brought her father more happiness.
So far he'd gone in his thoughts, when suddenly a twist of mind had brought him into contact with something bigger and broader than himself. He'd seen a thousand years and more stretching out before him, filled with joy and pain, laughter and weeping, loyalty and betrayal, and through all of it a strange, bone-deep longing, as though some part of himself were lost, never to be regained…
That was you, wasn't it? he asked Hogwarts silently, catching his breath and steadying himself with one hand on the stone wall, as Sirius peered out the door to the Great Hall, checking if the signal was being given for the groom and best man to take their places. Missing the Founders. Missing Slytherin. He may have had some unpleasant ideas, but he still helped found the school—more than that, you belonged to him first, so losing him must have been a wrench, over and above any of the others.
Hogwarts assented. Although many of that one's thoughts had been of causing others pain, still that one had been a vital part of what had begun here, and losing such vital parts left wounds that were difficult to heal.
There will be new Heirs born soon, you know. Danger and I have a daughter on the way, and Aletha and Sirius have a son. The other two pairs are still young, so they'll need to take a bit more time, but I'm sure they're planning on children of their own eventually…
A slow, warm wave of happiness grew within Hogwarts's "mind", until Remus had to take his hand away, breaking off the connection. There could be no doubt the school highly approved of the idea of further Heirs of its Founders.
Which is fine by me, given that I rather approve of the idea myself.
"There's our cue," Sirius hissed, and Remus roused from his reverie and crossed the room in four strides, pausing just long enough to check Sirius's appearance and have his own checked in return (one final grain of rice had adhered to his collar) before they stepped out into the brightly decked Great Hall.
So far as Remus could remember, both the decorations and the packed benches of attendees matched Danger's long-ago dream point for point, and the Minister of Magic he hadn't then recognized as Arthur Weasley awaited him and Sirius on the dais. A certain degree of sadness lurked in Arthur's eyes still, and likely always would, Remus thought. Losing Fred only a few months after George's death had been painful for all the Weasleys.
But they did get to see the twins together, one last time, when Harry called on everyone who ever loved us. And given that shell-shocked expression Percy keeps sporting every time Crystal comes near him, I'm wondering if George didn't take the opportunity to drop a word in his ear…
Grinning at his own matchmaking tendencies, Remus blinked out of his reverie and faced the rear of the Great Hall as the doors swung wide to admit the first couple, Neville and Meghan. The first dream of this day he'd shared with Danger, he recalled with some astonishment, hadn't included them, nor had it shown him Fox and Luna.
Though given who Fox looks like today, I probably would have taken that as proof Danger was some kind of Death Eater spy, and tried to pull myself out of the dream. And given that I'm fairly sure her taming power wouldn't have taken effect at that point, since the link between us didn't form until I'd taken her hand and accepted that connection between us… He repressed a shudder. No need to think about that now. It didn't happen. And this is.
Hermione and Ron parted at the bottom of the steps up to the dais, making way for Harry and Ginny, which called to mind the first bit of Danger's prophecies Remus had ever heard. I wonder what would have become of us if we'd had enough sense to follow the hints about 'red' and find Wormtail sooner than we did? Though I don't suppose we could have cleared Sirius's name and still stayed anonymous as long as we managed to do otherwise. It was difficult, being in hiding so long, but it gave the cubs that chance for more-or-less normality that they might not otherwise have had…
"Oy," muttered Sirius, nudging Remus in the ribs, as Aletha paced down the aisle with her head held high, in advance of the veiled vision in white on the arm of Albus Dumbledore. "Come on back from wherever you went off to."
Remus flashed a brief, hand-signed invitation to Sirius to do something unpleasant to himself, and let his eyes rest on the woman approaching him to the strains of the bridal march. For so many years, this moment had been only a dream to them, a goal distant and all but unreachable, to be wistfully imagined but never achieved. Now it was here, and Remus realized one of the reasons why it had taken so long.
Because we needed to fight our battles, learn to keep going through every kind of adversity, to be sure we'd be strong enough to handle this much joy.
Dumbledore gently folded Danger's veil back and spoke a few soft words to her, inaudible even from a step or two away. Whatever they were, they made Danger laugh and blush like a schoolgirl all at once, and then Dumbledore was laying her hand in Remus's, smiling at both of them, and going to the spot in the front row beside Fawkes's perch which was waiting for him.
There you are, said Remus silently, turning with his lady to face the Minister of Magic. What took you so long?
Oh, I don't know. Danger allowed a stream of images to race through her mind, images of days and nights, winters and summers, joys and sorrows. Sixteen years isn't so long in the final scheme of things. We'll have at least four times that long again together. Maybe even five…
Five's pushing it, even for witches and wizards, Remus objected. Don't forget, you weren't born a witch. And I've had a bit more wear and tear on my system than a normal wizard would.
Ha. Danger sniffed inaudibly. Bet you a kiss we make it.
Now there's a bet I'm willing to take. Bestowing the mental version of the named item, Remus squeezed Danger's hand, and turned his attention to the words being spoken before him.
"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today…"
Out in the Forest, Blaise Zabini sat on a convenient tree stump, regarding the oddly twisted black walnut tree which grew across the broad clearing from him. After the clean-up of the Battle of Hogwarts had finished, when his questions had been answered as fully as he thought they ever would be, he'd had Neville draw him a map to this place, and had chosen this moment to come here so that he could be sure he was alone.
Or as alone as anyone will ever be in this particular place, anyway.
"I know you're in there, Bellatrix Black Lestrange," he said aloud, never taking his eyes off the tree. "And I know you can hear me. You had some big dreams, didn't you? Wanted to be the Dark Warrior Lady, the Consort of the Heir of Slytherin. Live forever with him, ruling over Hogwarts, and over all the wizarding world. Tell everyone where to go and what to do. Wave your wand and make the puppets dance. And look where you are now. Trapped inside your wand, rooted in one place. Just another curiosity of Hogwarts, for first years to dare each other to go near. Nothing to be afraid of here. Not now, and not ever again.
"But no, I lie." He leaned forward a little, watching as the tree's leaves rustled, although the day was still and no wind moved in the clearing. "There is a way you could get out of there, you know. Heir of Hufflepuff, fair play and all of that. But it's not a way I think you could ever handle, no more than your precious Dark Lord ever did. You'd have to look back at your whole twisted, warped, Dark-loving life. You'd have to think over everything you ever did that was wrong, from whatever it was you started with, tormenting your sisters or cousins or whatever, to the very end of it all. Putting my Colleen under Imperius. Being the reason she died.
"What's that?" He paused, sardonically, as the branches quivered more emphatically than before. "Oh, you didn't cast the Killing Curse? You were angry with the fool who did? Well, that's nice of you. But you were still the reason she stepped out there, the reason she came courting that Killing Curse." His lips curled in a smile which held nothing of humor. "And you're also one of the reasons your side got defeated. You see, you told her to do only what she ordinarily would. And Colleen was a true Gryffindor, even if she didn't think she was. So it was perfectly ordinary for her to do something so brave as that. Perfectly ordinary, for her to offer her life to save the rest of us…
"But there I go, off on my tangents again." Shaking his head, Blaise straightened his robes fussily, taking the moment he needed to force the tears out of his voice. This important of information deserved to be delivered in as clear of tones as he could muster. "You see, my lady Bellatrix, the only way you'll ever be free of that branchy prison of yours is if you look back at all those wrong things you did and realize that they were wrong. If you can muster up even the least little drop of honest remorse for any of them. Do that, and…" He mimed the tree trunk breaking open. "It's the same thing that could have saved your beloved Master, or so Harry says. Frankly, I'm not sure I believe it." He shrugged. "But then, that's just me."
Getting to his feet, he bowed elaborately to the tree, as he might have to one of his mother's most definitively pureblood friends. "Enjoy your forever," he said. "Goodbye."
He walked away, and did not look back.
Catching her breath after one of the livelier pureblood set-pieces, Danger waved off several hopeful prospective dancing partners, choosing instead to sit down next to Dumbledore at the small table he was sharing with McGonagall and the Heads of House, all of whom were conveniently dancing themselves or at the buffet table. "Knut for them," she said, arranging her skirts.
"My thoughts?" Dumbledore chuckled. "Hardly worth the investment, my dear."
"Oh, come off it." Danger punched him gently in the arm. "You have more deep thoughts in a minute than most people pack into a month."
"Well, if you insist on knowing." Dumbledore did not move, but the level of noise around them diminished, as though he had cast a partial Privacy Spell. "I am…apprehensive about what comes next for me, as silly as that may sound."
"Not at all." Danger smiled a little. "Adventures are always frightening to start out on. They'd hardly be adventures if they weren't."
"True enough, but…" Dumbledore was examining the grain of the table so intently that Danger was surprised the wood hadn't begun to warp. "You know the story of the greatest folly of my youth. My unfortunate friendship, and how it ended."
"Yes, and I did want to thank you." Danger laid her hand on the table, palm up, and after a moment one of Dumbledore's moved to grasp it. "For trusting us enough not only to tell us that story, but to ask us to tell it to the rest of the world."
"Better you than most others." Dumbledore laughed, softly, painfully, but truly. "Though I suppose it would have been little more than I deserved if such a quill as Rita Skeeter's had told the tale instead…but that is neither here nor there. You know that in the final disagreement between myself and Gellert Grindelwald, in which my brother was also involved, that my sister Ariana was killed by a stray spell in the crossfire. What I do not know, what I have never known…"
"Is whose spell it was," Danger finished when her friend's fingers only tightened around hers. "Is that what's been eating at you all these years. That you don't know, you couldn't know, if you killed her yourself, or Grindelwald did, or even Aberforth."
"I…have reason to fear it may have been me." Dumbledore's breathing had turned ragged, bringing Fawkes fluttering down from the back of his chair with a worried croon. "So many times I had been angry with my mother for dying and leaving us with the burden of my sister. So often I had wished, in my stupidity and short-sightedness, that Ariana had died instead…"
"So you're afraid that you might accidentally-on-purpose have thrown a spell that killed her." Danger let out a long breath. "Albus, tell me something. Where did you spend the last few months?"
Dumbledore glanced at her sideways. "I think you know that already."
"For the sake of argument, say I don't. And don't you dare repeat that back to me," Danger added hastily as the light-blue eyes began to twinkle. "Just…bear with me here. Where were you, while your body was resting in that tomb out by the lake?"
"I was in the place generally known as the Founders' Hogwarts." Dumbledore stroked Fawkes with his free hand as the phoenix nestled under his chin, both of them watching Danger steadily. "Why do you ask?"
"And you have a right to go there, when you've been invited, because you swore the same oath we did, a long time ago, with your brother Aberforth. Yes?"
"I did."
Danger smiled. "Do you think the Founders would let you come into their home if you'd broken your word?" she asked quietly. "You may have resented Ariana, but you also loved her, you and Aberforth both. And you're sworn to one another, hand, wand, and life. I doubt either of you would have missed the signs of such an obvious betrayal of that oath as killing her…"
"Don't look now," said Sirius to Remus at the wedding party's table, "but the old man's beating your time."
"No, he's not." Remus didn't even look up from the diagram Hermione was drawing for him. "Danger just told him something he's always wanted to hear, and probably should have figured out for himself. Case of being too close to the problem." His finger came down on a point where three lines crossed one another. "No, this is where you're going wrong, Kitten. A triple-intersect is too much power in one place for this part of the spell. Try widening it out to a triangular pattern."
"Troubleshooting spell diagrams on his wedding day." Sirius sighed and took another drink of his punch. "Only Moony."
"Do you remember what we did on ours?" asked Aletha, helping herself to another bit of cheese from the platter in front of her.
"The first one, or the second?"
"Caster's choice."
"Well, on the first one, I spent most of the day sleeping in the sun with Harry using me as a pillow. Recuperating from being out and about, seeing people and having to talk to them." Sirius exaggerated his shudder, and smiled at Aletha's answering laugh. "It wasn't until the second one that I got the more traditional kind of nerves, because that was the one in front of the Order, who actually knew me, and could embarrass me to within an inch of my life at the supper afterwards…"
Harry meandered around the Great Hall, punch cup in hand, letting the joy of this day of celebration hum through his bones and beat in time with his heart. He'd never doubted they would win the war, but on some level he hadn't been expecting to see it himself.
If this were a story, then my part would be over as soon as Voldemort died. The author wouldn't know quite what to do with me afterwards. So it would just make sense, in a poetic kind of way, for us to kill each other instead of letting me hang about. He sipped at his punch, enjoying the rush of bubbly-sweet-sour citrus across his tongue. But this isn't a story—or rather, it's a whole bunch of stories, because what else is life? And my part as The Boy Who Lived may be over, but my part as a lot of other things is just beginning…
A flicker of silver fur to one side caught his eye. Luna and Dumbledore were sitting side by side at the Hogwarts teachers' table, Luna's erasable sketching quill moving rapidly over a scroll. Fox lay across the top corners of the scroll, anchoring it down, and watched as the lines on the parchment developed, his tail whisking back and forth with interest.
"Yes, you have it exactly," Dumbledore was saying as Harry reached listening range. "And if the robes can be subtly charmed so that they take to Color-Changers well, that would be even better." He chuckled. "I believe I shall make it a stipulation that all incoming classes of first years must watch two other students quarrelling over whether my robes should be blue or pink, and have a prefect nearby to note which of them will require Remedial Muggle Studies…"
Harry swallowed a snort of laughter by taking another drink of punch and reached Luna's side to see, as he'd half-expected from the conversation, that she was sketching a statue of Dumbledore himself, seated in the armchair which held pride of place behind the Head's desk in the office behind the gargoyle.
"Ah, yes, and here." Dumbledore tapped the statue's hands, which currently lay palms down, grasping the chair's arms lightly. "If one of these could be turned upwards, so that items can be placed there at need, I believe we shall be all but finished." He glanced up. "Hello, Harry. Perhaps you can help make my case to Minerva, and to the Heads of House, that my memorial on the grounds of Hogwarts should be somewhat less ostentatious than it has been to this point."
"Didn't like the tomb, sir?" Harry pulled up a chair for himself.
"It was tasteful, in and of itself, but it seemed intrusive." Dumbledore shook his head. "Hogwarts is a school, a place for the youth of the magical world to seek fresh joys and explore new beginnings. They will encounter sorrows and endings all too soon without being reminded of them every time they wish to observe the giant squid or write papers on the lives of mer-folk. A statue, on the other hand, serves as a reminder of its subject's life, rather than his death. And a statue may be useful, since like the suits of armor, the statues on Hogwarts grounds can be enchanted into life, to fight if they are needed." His eyes were momentarily bleak. "Though if that should ever happen, the situation will be dire indeed."
"All we can worry about is our own time, sir." Harry held out his hand for Luna's quill, and sketched a familiar shape in the palm of the Dumbledore-statue's upturned hand, drawing a snicker from Fox. "And I think we've done pretty well. Kept our feet warm and dry, for one thing."
"So we have, and that is no small feat. If you will." Dumbledore chuckled at the three-part groan from the assembled Warriors. "Do you think that students will bring my statue socks, Harry? As a sort of luck-offering, hoping that they may do well on an examination or in a Quidditch match?"
"It'd be pretty funny if they did." Harry grinned as Luna took her quill back and began to add other socks here and there about the statue, rolled up on its pedestal and its lap, hanging loosely from its pockets, waving flag-like from its hat. "Maybe we'll spread the word about that. But quietly, keeping it under the Revelio. Turn it into a tradition without people ever knowing where it came from…"
The house-elves were already beginning to clear the mess away as Remus and Danger bade farewell to the last of their guests, exchanging handshakes, hugs, murmured congratulations and bawdy advice, often from the same people. At last only the adults of the Pack and Albus Dumbledore remained in the Great Hall, the latter looking around thoughtfully as Fawkes circled the ceiling, singing softly.
"To live," he said, regarding the star-studded sky overhead, "has been a very great adventure indeed." He looked back at the two couples standing beside him and smiled. "Made greater still by the company of friends for this last part of the way. I wish you all joy, and that in abundance."
"Same to you." Sirius held out his hand, then rolled his eyes and gave Dumbledore a brief, tight hug. "We'll miss you."
"Travel safely, and without pain." Aletha kissed Dumbledore's cheek before embracing him herself. "Thank you for everything."
"For being there today, especially." Danger added her own kiss on Dumbledore's other cheek. "It meant the world to me."
"We'll take care of things, Albus." Remus whisked two fingers in a circle, indicating themselves, Hogwarts, and the greater wizarding world all at once. "Don't worry about us."
"But if I did not worry, how would you know it was me?" Dumbledore inquired, drawing laughter from all four Pack-adults. "I will not say goodbye, but rather au revoir, for be it soon or be it late, all those who love will see one another again." He smiled a little as Fawkes backwinged to a landing on his wrist. "Though do not be surprised if it is rather later than you may be thinking even now."
In a rush of flame, Headmaster and phoenix were gone.
"Typical Dumbledore," grumbled Sirius, blinking furiously against the afterimages. "Cryptic to the last. What do you think that was all about?"
"I don't know." Remus held out his hand to the spot where the two had vanished, and a final thread of Fawkes's fire coiled itself about his wrist. "But I'd imagine we'll find out." He chuckled under his breath. "Be it soon or be it late."
"And it is late." Danger tucked her chatelaine watch back into the pocket on her gown designed for just such a thing. "Past midnight. Will you excuse us, please?" Her smile turned salacious. "After all, we are newlyweds…"
Deep in the Forbidden Forest of Hogwarts, fire flared brightly, and Albus Dumbledore looked around him and smiled. The lore of the Heads of Hogwarts spoke of the Peaceful Grove, a place Helga Hufflepuff and her friend Sylvanus had nurtured together, and where she had often come to regain her composure when the strains of being Headmistress had become too much for her. It was here, or so said the legend, that she had embarked upon her own next great adventure, leaving behind the body she had worn out with more than a century of life and love.
With a long sigh, he lay down on the flat, moss-covered rock in the center of the clearing, letting his weariness overtake him at last. His eyes drifted shut, his aches began to ease, as Fawkes perched beside him and sang, the brilliant croon of his feathered friend at its saddest and most joyful simultaneously.
I have done the best I could with the time that I was given, and made amends as far as possible for my errors and mistakes.
Little more, I think, could be said of any man.
The final note of the phoenix lament faded into the night.
Then there was silence.
"Are we sure this is the right place?" Corona asked, looking around anxiously. The dead-end street in a dingy industrial town was almost aggressively Muggle, and she blessed the vagaries of Muggle culture which made a long skirt and a loose blouse acceptable garments for her to wear on this little excursion. Brian's outfit, jeans and a light jacket over a T-shirt proclaiming that Things Are About To Get Hairy, would have felt decidedly strange and uncomfortable to her.
But then, he grew up in and out of the Muggle world, so he's used to wearing Muggle clothing. I'll need to get used to it, or at least to things like this, if we're going to bring up our little girls to know both worlds…
"We gave Echo our note to take to her friend, and this is where she said he was." Brian lifted his hand to knock on the door, then lowered it again. "Are you ready?"
"Yes. No." Corona laughed shakily. "No is more true, but I won't get readier by standing here dithering."
"No more will I." Brian lifted his hand again and knocked three times.
The door swung open almost immediately, revealing a wide-eyed young house-elf in green trousers cut from a kitchen towel, gazing up at them with mingled worry and relief. "Mister Brian Li?" he said tentatively. "And Miss Corona Gamp?"
"Yes, that's us." Brian stepped inside, Corona at his shoulder. "Are you Echo's friend?"
"Yes, sir. Brekky." The house-elf bowed a little. "Brekky has taken good care of little Ella. It is what Brekky's new-old master called the little girl, miss," he added swiftly at Corona's faint gasp. "Only to have something to call her. It is not good to say 'baby' or 'little girl' all the time."
"New-old master?" Brian frowned. "What does that mean?"
"Brekky had an old-old master, who owned his mother." The house-elf held up one long finger. "Then Brekky's new-old master bought him from the old-old master, to take care of little—of the little girl…"
"No, please." Corona managed a smile, and with an effort made it stop wobbling. "If you've called her Ella this long, I think that ought to be her name for real."
Not to mention, it's close enough to my sister's name that I'll never forget her, but far enough away that I don't have to remember everything…
"Yes, miss." Brekky beamed. "So Brekky was bought to take care of little Ella, and then the new-old master came back some few days ago and…" He gestured to his trousers, his smile growing improbably wider. "Brekky is a free elf now."
"Are you really." Brian glanced over at Corona, and she nodded her approval of the idea she could see at the backs of his eyes. "You know, Brekky, it would be a shame to take you away from Ella, when you've been caring for her this long. And we may be looking to hire a second house-elf for the townhouse we're going to share with our friends, to help keep up with the chores and take care of our two little girls. Do you think you and Echo could find a way to work together?"
Corona had to fight hard against her desire to laugh at the odd shade of brownish-green which mottled Brekky's face in a distinct house-elf blush. "We'll take that as settled, then," she said. "Now, will you show us Ella?"
"Of course, miss! Right this way!" Brekky scampered through a nearby doorway, and Brian and Corona followed him, to see the house-elf gently levitating a small bundle wrapped in a soft white blanket out of a low-lying cradle. "She is sleeping now, miss," he murmured, waving a hand and wafting the baby across the room towards Corona. "Please be holding her very gently…"
Opening her arms, Corona accepted the tiny bundle, and looked down into a small, round face topped with a downy fuzz of no particular color. Though she would have said five minutes earlier that babies all looked alike to her, and still couldn't have named or listed the differences with any certainty, she already knew that she would never mistake this little girl for Annette, or for any other child on the face of the earth.
She is mine. Bending her head, she brushed a kiss across the soft, unwrinkled forehead. Mine to love and guard and cherish, as my parents loved and guarded and cherished me and Elladora, and as our grandmother most assuredly did not. And Brian will help me. She looked up at that wizard, and surprised a bit of the same besotted smile on his face she could feel creeping onto her own. And Charlie and Tonks will help the both of us, and we them with little Annette.
Together, we will build something beautiful, in this new world springing up from the ashes of the old.
"Goodbye, Elladora," she murmured. "Hello, Ella."
In her arms, the baby squirmed once restlessly, then calmed.
"So," said Ron as the Pride walked together towards the Founders' Castle. "Anybody have an idea what this is all about?"
"Not the foggiest." Fox looked towards Luna, who shook her head firmly.
"I don't spy on people who outrank me," she said. "It's rude."
"Not to mention unwise." Hermione chuckled. "Like meddling in the affairs of dragons."
"For we are crunchy and good with ketchup." Meghan grinned from her place riding piggyback on Neville. "And mustard, if it's Dadfoot."
"I resemble that remark," said Padfoot, popping his head around the great oak doors at the top of the outside stairs. "Come on, everybody inside, let's not keep our friends waiting…"
"I wonder." Harry hung back a little, gazing up at the towers above him. "Where's Irina's soul while she's 'sleeping' inside you, Gin? If her body's not going to grow or change at all for those three years we were given, is her soul asleep too? Or…"
Ginny closed her eyes, a brief expression of pain flitting across her features. "Alex and Paul," she murmured. "And probably Adam too. Oh, Harry, we're in so much trouble."
"It's all her fault." Harry hooked a thumb towards Letha, waiting for them at the top of the steps. "She used to say to me, when I was little and driving her mad, 'I hope you have a child just like you someday'…"
"Yes, but this child is going to be a daughter," said Letha as the Potters started up towards her. "Which means she'll be a thousand times worse than you ever were, young man, because she'll have you wrapped around her little finger from the moment she's born."
"No, she won't." Harry let his hand rest against Ginny's abdomen as they reached the top of the stairs. "She's got me there already."
"As it should be." Letha waved towards the doors. "Shall we?"
The rest of the Pack and Pride, along with the Founders, were gathered in the small side chamber where Danger had come to choose her fate not quite seven years ago. Harry handed Ginny into a chair upholstered in green, seated himself in the one beside it decorated in red, and turned his attention to Helga Hufflepuff, who stood in the center of the room, Adam a few paces to one side, his eyes on his mother.
"Do you know what you have done?" she asked, bringing an end to two or three quiet side conversations on both sides of the room. "I'll give you a hint. It seems simple, and yet it's very nearly unprecedented." Now she smiled, and the room seemed to grow warmer and brighter. "You made promises to one another—and kept them."
"Many others have sworn the oath you swore," added Rowena Ravenclaw, standing in front of the cluster of her daughters. "Some of them were faithful, some were not. But in all the time over which we have been privileged to watch, you are the only group of twelve who have sworn this oath and maintained your fidelity through some of the most trying times and events which may come to human beings, magical or not."
"Your challenges, of course, are not over, no more than your lives." Godric Gryffindor stood flanked by his son and daughter. "But unless the coming years wreak radical changes in one or more of you, when your earthly lives come to a close, the Oath of the Guardians which you have sworn and kept will come fully into its own."
"What's that mean when it's at home?" asked Ron.
"Simplest terms?" Alexander Slytherin spread his hands. "You're our replacements." He grinned. "Someday, my son, all this will be yours."
"And it's not even a swamp," muttered Padfoot into the stunned silence.
"Wait, wait, wait." Danger held up her hands as though to stop traffic. "Back up the broom a second. Your replacements? As in, the people in the castle in the air who watch over things and make them happen? The ones who enforce curses and blessings and try to keep life running smoothly? That kind of replacements?"
"Precisely." Alex nodded. "You won't be forced into it, of course. It's still your choice, to stay here or to go on. But it isn't like being a ghost. You're here for a certain amount of time, and then, once you've chosen your own replacements and they've proved themselves, you go on as you would have otherwise. A thousand years is pretty standard, but some Guardians do longer, some shorter. It all depends on what happens during your tenure."
"Make no mistake, this is work." Helga crossed her arms and looked sternly at each Marauder and Warrior in turn. "Sometimes it may feel like play, but it is always, always work. There are times it will be tedious, and times it will be heartbreaking, but neither of those must be allowed to stop you from fulfilling your duties."
"But there will also be joys along the way." Rowena smiled. "Such as the joy we have felt in watching you grow strong together, and having you as our friends."
"So we ask you now, with all of ourselves as witnesses." Godric spun his fingers in a circle around the room. "Will you accept this gift, and this burden, when your time comes around at last?"
Twisting in his chair, Harry looked from one to another of the Pride. Neville's initial stunned look was fading into wondering acceptance, as though he were hearing a secret which made a hitherto baffling story make sense. Meghan seemed torn between laughter and tears, but her smiles were starting to win out. Luna's eyes were closed, her face composed and calm, but the scent of private glee rising from her was difficult to ignore, and Fox wasn't bothering to hide his smirk, instead stroking the red stone on his wedding ring. Ron and Hermione were having a hand-signed discussion which was moving too fast even for Harry to make out, but which grew calmer even as he noticed it, ending with Ron's If you say so and Hermione's Trust me.
"What do you think?" he asked Ginny under his breath. "Thousand years sound good to you?"
"A thousand years in a beautiful castle, with you and all my best friends?" Ginny sighed, sounding put-upon, but Harry could smell the laugh she was barely containing. "Well. If I have to."
Harry looked over to Moony and nodded once, firmly. Moony smiled and got to his feet, facing his ancestor squarely.
"Sir Godric," he said, "we will accept both the gift and the burden of being Guardians in your stead. So we speak, and so we intend."
"So let it be done, and we thank you for your acceptance." Godric spread his hands. "And for your time here, we give you this wish. May your pains never exceed your joys, and may you always be able to say, of your every endeavor, 'I gave it the best I had.'"
"So let it be done indeed," said Danger softly. "In every day of our lives, and beyond."
Author Notes:
So, who's surprised, and who saw this one coming a long time ago? No fibbing, now!
Since I'm on a bit of a roll with chapters, I won't blather on too long at you here. Chapter 68, "Let's Go Home", ought to be up within the next couple days, after all. And then, after that, it's Chapter 69, "August 8, 1998, Hogwarts", in which we get to meet little Nadia Abigail Lupin, and discover just why exactly this story did not end with the Battle of Hogwarts…
Until next time, thanks as always for reading, and please do remember to review! I may be getting towards the end, but that means I need more encouragement, not less!