Vivens cum Pericula
Chapter 12: Sorrow
By Anne B. Walsh
Author Notes:
BYOT.
Ray curled a little tighter in the chair in the waiting room at St. Mungo’s, laying his head on his knees. Sounds washed over him in meaningless waves.
My mother is dead.
Moony had told him quietly while Harry found something for them all to eat and Hermione firecalled the Ministry. The words hadn’t meant anything at first, not until Moony took his hand and led him to a dark corner of the room to see for himself. His mother lay silent and still, one hand around her wand, her face set in determined disbelief.
"I thought dead people had their eyes open," he’d said, babyishly trying to deny what he could see was true.
"I closed them," Moony had said softly.
That had been the one thing that made it all too much. He’d tried to push away the truth, let himself think everything would be normal again after this. But now he knew it wouldn’t. Peri lying so still, his father attacking Moony, none of that had penetrated his mind like this did. His mother was dead, and she would never come back.
He remembered very little of the next hour or two. Only crying—crying like a baby—against Moony’s shoulder, then being lifted up and held close through the Floo, set down gently here and asked if he could wait. He could.
Harry and Hermione were sitting nearby, talking in urgent whispers. Every now and then, one of them would glance over at him. He would have minded if he’d had anything left to mind with, but all his resources were taken up with trying to process impossible facts.
Peri’s hurt, and it must be bad. I can’t touch her like I always could.
My father hurt her. He did something awful to her, so awful Moony can’t even explain it, but it makes him angrier than I thought Moony could get.
And Mother’s dead.
The pillars of his life were crumbling as the walls of his home had a few hours ago, and these couldn’t be put back into place with just a word. One of them could never be replaced at all. Another hovered in a void, still visible but tantalizingly out of reach.
And lurking back of it all was the question that had burst into his mind when he’d first seen his father standing below the tree where he’d been climbing with Harry.
What happens to me now?
He knew he couldn’t go home. There was no one there to take care of him, except Dobby, and though Dobby could do all the things Ray needed done, nobody was going to let him live on his own with just a house-elf to watch him. Besides, he’d keep thinking he saw Mum around a corner, or heard Peri’s voice in the next room.
I know where I want to go, but they’re not going to let me...
He had an aunt on his mother’s side, his Aunt Andromeda, though he’d never met her. She was a Healer, which meant she might even be in the building right now. He’d probably go home with her for a while, until somebody decided where he ought to live from now on.
Maybe I could go live with Hermione and her parents. We’d all be near each other that way, and I have enough money so I wouldn’t be a burden on them. I might even go to school with Hermione and Harry until it’s time for us all to go to Hogwarts. And we could still go to Camelot, to see Moony and Letha and Meghan, and Padfoot, now that he’s alive.
He clung to this idea as both safe and possible, building pictures of the games they’d play and the fun they’d have, ignoring the cynical voice in his mind that said the Ministry of Magic would never let a magical child go to a Muggle home—
"Draco?"
Pop went the vision. Ray felt a tear of disappointment escape from his closed eyelids, and quickly wiped it away before opening his eyes to face the unknown speaker. She was an older witch, wearing the robes of a Ministry worker, sitting across from him in another chair. Beside her sat a Healer with long brown hair and a resemblance to his own mother, smiling tentatively at him.
"Aunt Andromeda?" he said uncertainly.
"That’s my name," the Healer said, reaching out her hand to take his. "And you’re Draco."
He nodded. Movement near the fireplace caught his eye, and he turned to see Moony with his arm around Harry, watching the flames where Hermione had just vanished.
"Your friends are all right; the young lady’s parents have been called, and they’re coming to Camelot to pick her up with her friend," said the Ministry witch, drawing Ray’s attention back to her. "I’m Casewitch Felicity Davidson, by the way, of Wizarding Family Services. I’m going to help you, or do my very best." She shook Ray’s hand. "Quite a tangle you’re in, young man. May I guess you’re wondering where you’re going to sleep tonight?"
"Mm-hmm." Ray focused on the casewitch, trying not to look back at the fireplace. Moony would go with Harry and Hermione, to make sure they got where they were going safely—that was the best thing to do, and Moony always knew the best thing to do—
"Usually, you’d go with your aunt," Casewitch Davidson said. "But if I understand correctly, you two haven’t met before."
"Family troubles," Aunt Andromeda said sadly. "I married, as my family thought, below me. I wish I had tried harder to be reconciled with them, but my own foolish pride—" She broke off, shaking her head. "Never mind, that’s not important now. What’s important is getting you, Draco, somewhere that you want to be, with someone who can take care of you."
Ray looked at the floor. "I understand," he said in a mumble. "You don’t want me,"
"No!" Aunt Andromeda’s hands caught his shoulders and shook him slightly, forcing him to look up at her. "Merlin’s robes, no! I’ll gladly take you home with me, if you want to come. But you don’t know me, and you might not want to spend tonight with people you’ve never met before. And as it happens, someone else has already asked if you could go with him."
Ray’s breath caught in his chest. With him? With who? But they wouldn’t—they won’t—
Hurried footsteps beside him, and Moony pulled up a chair and sat down. "Sorry to be late," he said to the casewitch, catching his breath. "I had to explain a few things to the staff at Camelot, and make arrangements for my other friends to be taken care of. All right, Ray?"
Slowly, Ray nodded. "All right," he said in a voice that didn’t sound like his own.
Aunt Andromeda let him go, nodding to Moony. "Mr. Lupin has asked that you be allowed to go home with him for the time being," she said. "He’s explained that he knows you well from your visits to Camelot, and that if you’d like to go with him, he’ll be glad to have you. What do you think?"
Ray didn’t have to think, or even speak. Without a word, he ran across the intervening space into Moony’s opened arms and held on as desperately as he had a few hours before. Then he had hoped to save Moony and Peri; now he was the one in need of saving, and he knew beyond words or telling that he had found the only person who could do it.
xXxXx
Remus held Ray close against him, feeling the boy’s shuddering breaths. "We’re going home," he murmured. "We’ll be all right there."
Casewitch Davidson smiled in satisfaction. "I have no doubt you will be," she said, standing up. "I’ll come by to check tomorrow morning, if that’s convenient for you?"
"Perfectly, thank you." Remus nodded to her and watched her out of sight before turning back to Andromeda. "Thank you, Andy," he said fervently. "I don’t know what I’d have done if you’d said no."
"Why should I say no?" Andromeda moved down two chairs, placing herself beside Remus and Ray, then began to run her wand up and down beside Ray’s back. "He’s under a great deal of stress right now, frightened and grieving and confused—the best thing for him is to be with an adult he knows and trusts, and that’s obviously you. I could take care of him, I’m capable of doing it, but coming to a strange house and getting to know a stranger would be one more upheaval in his life, and he doesn’t need that." She frowned. "Odd. I haven’t seen quite that pattern before..."
"Does it need to be taken care of right away?" Remus asked, letting his eyes roam towards the fireplace.
"No, it doesn’t." Andromeda ended her spell and put her wand away. "Take him home, Remus. Take care of him. I’ll check back tomorrow or the day after, or someone will, and you know how to get hold of me if something unexpected happens."
"Of course." Remus clasped her hand briefly, then stood up, cradling Ray against him. The boy shifted and turned his head, sighing against Remus’ neck.
Despite everything that had gone wrong that day, despite his deep worry for Peri and his hatred towards her attacker and the grief he felt on Ray’s part for Narcissa, Remus couldn’t help a small rush of joy. Part of a dream he’d never consciously allowed himself to acknowledge was fulfilled in this moment.
He was taking his boy home with him.
xXxXx
Ray dozed, sorrow and pain pushed to one side. They would still be there when he woke up, and he’d have plenty of time to think about them. As long as Moony held him, he was all right.
The motion of the Floo half-woke him, but he opened only one eye to regard his new surroundings. He’d seen Moony’s home often, the mix of shabby old and comfortable new furniture, the dusty kitchen, the books on every available surface. He’d never been upstairs, though, and Moony was carrying him up the stairs now, up into a dark, cool hallway.
"Ray?" Moony’s voice vibrated through his chest, traveling directly through bones and flesh into Ray’s ears from the inside. "Are you awake?"
"Mmm." Ray lifted his head to look around more fully, blinking away the blurriness of the eye he’d been lying on. "Where are we?"
"Home." Moony lowered him to the ground, supporting him with one hand under his arm. "Can you walk?"
"Yeah." Ray took a tentative step and found he hadn’t been lying. "Where?"
"Just in here." Moony leaned through the nearest doorway and turned on a light. "This is your room."
My room? I have a room?
Ray peered through the door, and eagerness overcame tiredness and worry. A small room, but large enough to hold the usual bedroom furniture, plus a full bookshelf and a chair the right size for lying in, or for two people to sit side by side, one perhaps a little on the other’s lap.
He looked back at Moony, who was watching him anxiously. "It’s great," he said, and found a smile somewhere at Moony’s look of relief. "But why is it here?"
"Because I’m sentimental sometimes," Moony said, coming into the room and sitting down in the chair. Ray joined him, climbing into his lap the way he still loved to do but couldn’t do at Camelot anymore. "Because I’ve cared about you since we first met, and I would sometimes imagine that your family had lost their money, or their home, and you needed a place to stay." His arms closed around Ray. "I never wanted this for you. But I’m glad it was ready, and I was ready, when you had need."
Ray shivered, and the bad thoughts came rushing back over him, not as strong as before—he could still think and see and hear—but very much present. "Will Peri be all right?" he asked. "When will she come home?"
"I don’t know." Moony swallowed before he spoke again. "She was hurt badly, Ray, in more ways than one. The Healers said she doesn’t seem to be there anymore. She’s alive, and with care her body will heal. But they don’t know when she’ll wake up, or what she’ll be like when she does."
"Or if she will at all?" Ray asked timidly.
Moony sighed. "Yes. Or if she will at all."
You’re not supposed to say that, Ray scolded silently. You’re supposed to tell me not to be silly, that of course she’ll wake up, that she’ll be just fine, that I’m making a fuss over nothing...
Maybe he ought to be grateful that Moony thought enough of him not to lie, but a large part of him would have preferred it the other way.
And what if Peri never does wake up? What if she dies like Mother did?
Moony will take care of you no matter what, said his sensible side. And you’re borrowing trouble. Get some rest. Things always look better in the morning.
Ray closed his eyes over more tears and let the indisputable safety of Moony’s arms lull him into sleep.
xXxXx
Remus felt Ray’s breathing go from the quick, shuddering breaths of a boy trying to keep from crying and not succeeding very well to the slow, deep, regular ones which meant fears and worries dropping away at the door into dreamland.
Good. Excellent. Sleep’s the best thing for him just now.
He could have moved Ray to the bed, covered him, and left, but he had spent too long wishing for this, longing for it from a distance, to want to let it go just yet.
Besides, even if I didn’t care for him at all, he’s my only link to Peri.
The Healers had been honest with him, more honest than he might have wanted, but it was better to know the truth, as painful as truth might be. Lucius had seemingly taken out all his rage and frustration at the thwarting of his plans, whatever those might be, on Peri. Her arms and chest were badly bruised, one of her ribs cracked, and her body had bled inside, though the Healers had stopped that before it threatened her life. It was too early to know about anything else.
And they have only the vaguest idea why she won’t wake up.
"I’ve seen this in people who’ve survived tragedies," one older Healer had said. "They sometimes withdraw into themselves, stop eating, stop responding. This is a higher degree than any other case I’ve witnessed, but the young lady may have had her reasons."
Remus closed his eyes, turning his head so that any tears falling wouldn’t wake Ray. "I’m sorry," he whispered. "I could have stopped it. If I’d thought, if I’d stayed, if I hadn’t been in such a hurry..."
If I hadn’t acted to save Harry. If I hadn’t been willing to finish what you sacrificed yourself to start.
He had no doubt that was why she’d left herself in harm’s way, to delay Lucius, to keep him more interested in her than in whatever he’d been planning for Harry.
It worked much too well. Harry’s safe, and even has a family to go home to when this is all over. But you—
He freed a hand to press against his closed eyelids, trying to wipe away the vision of Peri lying still and white in a hospital bed, only the rise and fall of her chest showing that she lived.
Damn you, Pericula Grant. If it weren’t for you, I could be happy right now. Sirius is alive, Harry’s leaving his relatives forever, Ray is here with me...
Why do I have to love you?
No answer came to his ears.
But then, he hadn’t expected one.
xXxXx
Hmm. Sheets and a pillow.
Either Hermione’s playing house with me again, or the last thing I remember wasn’t a dream after all.
Sirius cracked one eye open.
I see colors. This is a good sign.
After a moment of work, he got one hand out from under the covers.
And it is a hand. Not a paw. Another good sign.
Rolling over took a little more work, but it was worth it.
Goal, Snitch, and match.
Meghan lay in the bed next to his, and Aletha in the bed beyond that, both of them still fast asleep.
Doesn’t matter for just looking at them. Sirius snuggled down in the sheets and spent several minutes familiarizing himself with every eyelash on Meghan’s cheeks, then moving on to categorizing the lines on Aletha’s face that hadn’t been there when he’d seen her last.
I’ll need to know them all, if I plan on carving replicas into Bellatrix.
On second thoughts, though, his beautiful wife had punished Bellatrix thoroughly enough.
Bella won’t ever be able to do magic again, which means if the Dork Lord ever does come back, she’ll be useless to him. Might as well leave her alone. But there are plenty of other Death Eaters running around...like, say, Malfoy...
Of course, he rather hoped Malfoy wasn’t running around anymore at this point.
The last time I saw him, he had my godson. If that hasn’t changed by now, I’m going to raise the biggest ruckus ever raised.
The thought of Harry in Malfoy’s clutches got him up and moving. The room swirled around him a little when he sat up, but he hung onto the bedclothes until it stopped, then pulled himself to his feet. I have to find out what’s going on, what happened to Harry, what day it is—Merlin, I don’t even know that, I could have been asleep a few hours or a week—
A glance at the sunlight through the window told him it was afternoon, but not much more than that.
I’m going to tear this place apart—
He shivered, and looked down at himself.
After I get some clothes on.
Or at least a longer gown. Why do they make them so damned short?
Noise suddenly erupted in the hall, making him jump.
"But we want to see him!"
"Please, just for a minute!"
"Don’t shout!" reproved an Official Voice. "Quiet in the halls, please!"
Sirius grinned and edged backwards until he felt the bedframe against his legs, listening all the while.
"We’ll be quiet if you just let us in. We don’t want to stay long, and we’ll be very good the whole time—"
"We’re terribly sorry for disturbing things, but we’ve been very worried, and we just want to see for ourselves—"
For a moment, Sirius considered greeting his visitors as Padfoot, but decided against it. Too much work. Besides, they’re used to that. Instead he lay down, pulling the sheets up around himself, and peered out of one slitted eye.
Harry and Hermione entered the room like a whirlwind, with a flustered Healer just behind them. "Five minutes," she said appealingly. "Ten at the most."
Two heads nodded solemnly, and the Healer hurried out.
Harry rose on his tiptoes and imitated the Healer’s voice. "Five minutes!" he falsettoed. "Ten at the most!"
Hermione giggled, then did her own imitation of the Healer in the hallway—"Don’t shout, quiet in the halls, please!"—which made Harry snicker. Sirius held his breath lest he give himself away by laughing.
"What do you think he’ll be like?" Hermione asked when they had both recovered.
"I don’t know." Harry moved closer to Sirius’ bed and looked down at him. "I hope he’s nice."
"I’m sure he will be," said Hermione, joining Harry. "Jump was always such a nice dog." She frowned. "But what are we supposed to call him?"
"Padfoot, I guess." Harry shrugged. "Or maybe Mr. Black."
Sirius groaned before he could stop himself. Both children leapt backwards as though he’d shouted a spell at them.
Damn.
"Um, oops?"
Hermione giggled again, high-pitched and nervous. "I guess he’s awake," she said to Harry.
"I guess he is." Sirius sat up. "Who are we talking about?"
"Muchu Kuchu, the king of the Monkey People," said Harry with a straight face.
Sirius scratched under one arm and grunted, sending Hermione into fresh giggles. "What do you want us to call you, please?" she said when she was done.
"Padfoot will do just fine. Mr. Black was my father, and you didn’t want to know him. He wasn’t a nice bloke."
"That’s what the stories say," said Harry. "Did you really shave your head one year?"
Sirius nodded. "I thought I was cool," he said mournfully. "Don’t ever do that. It makes girls laugh at you."
Harry looked at Hermione, then peered over Sirius to see Meghan, still asleep in her bed. "The girls always laugh at me anyway," he said. "I don’t see what difference it would make."
Sirius chuckled. "You’re right, they do. At least from what I’ve seen."
Hermione seemed to have overcome her initial diffidence, and was now right beside Sirius’ bed. "Padfoot?" she said tentatively.
"Yes?"
"Can you really—I mean, would you—can I see what you really look like when you’re a dog?"
Sirius drew his legs under him, knelt up, and transformed, landing on his front paws as Padfoot rather hard. Whoof. Almost forgot what that felt like.
"You’re big," Hermione said in surprise. Her hand found its usual spot between his ears. "And your fur is rough. But I like it."
Harry darted in on the other side and mock-tackled him, hugging him ferociously and growling. Sirius growled back and swiped out a paw, knocking Harry off balance, then pulling him onto the bed.
You wanna play rough? I’ll show you how Marauders play rough!
Hermione leaped on top of the tangle and thumped him with her heels. "Giddyup, Padfoot!"
Sirius sat down, depositing Hermione unceremoniously on his pillow, then wagged his tail, smacking her repeatedly in the face with it. Unfortunately, while he was busy with that, Harry had crawled out from under him, and he was attacked afresh from above.
Maybe I’m getting too old for this...
With the protesting creak of rusty iron, the bed collapsed under them.
I’m definitely getting too old for this.
xXxXx
Remus lay on his front lawn on a blanket, Ray cuddled against his side, asleep. They’d had a picnic lunch, then watched clouds for a while before Ray had drifted off.
He’s been sleeping a lot these last few days. But it’s only been four days since it all happened...maybe this is just his way of coping with it.
More worrisome were the little aches and pains still bothering Ray. Though the boy seldom complained, Remus could read between the lines to see what was behind an hour on the couch, an afternoon spent chatting instead of romping, a restless and disturbed night.
And Peri still hasn’t woken up. They’d been to visit her once or twice, but she remained the same as she had been before, silent and unresponsive. The Healers had begun feeding her by magical means. They claimed she was getting stronger physically, but Remus found he couldn’t bear to look at her still face for too long.
Ray had kicked up a fuss the first time they’d visited, claiming one of the Healers must have stolen the locket Peri always wore, until Remus pointed out that it was far more likely Lucius had removed it. Inquiries at the DMLE had turned it up, scuffed and broken, its magic gone. Ray had claimed it anyway, and wore it now himself, as though hoping some of the connection it had forged between him and Peri still remained.
No use hurrying Peri, though. There never has been. She’ll do things in her own good time, or she won’t do them at all...
Of course, that’s the possibility that has me worried.
He shook his head, smiling at himself. Borrowing trouble again, Moony. She’ll wake up, you’ll kiss her better, and she’ll come home to you and Ray. And then you’ll all live happily ever after...
The sound of a car pulling up drew Remus out of his dreams of a home filled with laughter. He sat up, then stood, as Sirius and Meghan burst out of the passenger door of Aletha’s small sedan. "Free at last!" Sirius shouted across the street. "They just let us out today!"
Remus grinned and waved, but pointed downwards at the sleeping boy by his side and made shushing motions. Sirius nodded and tiptoed exaggeratedly across the street, Meghan copying his every move. Once across, she broke away and raced up the lawn towards Remus, pulling to a halt at the last possible second and holding out her arms for her usual hug.
"Harry gets to come home with us tomorrow," she said when she let go. "If the court says yes."
"Why wouldn’t they?" Sirius scoffed, dropping down on an unoccupied corner of blanket. "I am who I say I am, he is who he says he is, I’m legally entitled to him, and I want him. What more is there to it?"
"You’d be surprised," Aletha said tartly, arriving behind them. "Hello, Remus. How have things been here?"
Remus smiled, looking down at Ray. "Idyllic. It won’t last, but I’m treasuring it while it does."
Aletha closed her eyes for a moment. "You may be more right than you know," she said. "Can we come inside? There are a few things we need to tell you."
Remus frowned. "What’s the matter?"
"It’s complicated," Sirius said, his smile gone. "Probably best to give it to you in order."
"All right." Remus lifted Ray into his arms and started for the house. The boy stirred but didn’t wake. Behind him came Sirius, Aletha, and Meghan with the blanket.
What is going on here?
Inside the house, Remus laid Ray on the couch, then joined the Blacks in the kitchen. Meghan accepted a small bag from her mother and scampered into the other room. "She’ll play quietly," Aletha assured Remus as he sat down.
"Malfoy talked," Sirius said without preamble. "I found out when I stopped by the Auror Office to see what was going on there. It was all over the place. He told them everything, all about what he was going to do with Harry, what he did do to Peri, and why..." He shook his head. "He is one sick SOB."
"I knew that." Remus bit the words off short. "Get to the point, please."
"The point is, Malfoy was cursed. It happened near the very end of the war, and he thinks—I don’t know how right he is—he thinks that Lily cursed him."
"Lily Potter?"
Aletha half-smiled. "Did you know another Lily?" she asked pointedly.
"No, but..." Remus stared at the familiar, scarred surface of the tabletop. "It seems so unlike her."
"He says the curse hit him the day after he participated in a particular Muggle killing. An older couple, in Surrey. Sound familiar?"
Remus’ eyes widened. "Lily’s parents."
Sirius nodded grimly. "Anyway, Malfoy put a delayer spell on the curse, to hold it off for seven years. He meant to get Voldie-farts to help him with it, but Halloween happened pretty soon afterwards, and he never got the chance. So he forgot about it until last week, when the delay spell ran out..."
"And he realized he was still under a curse," Remus finished. "But what does Harry have to do with it?"
"It was a blood curse," Aletha said hoarsely. "Directed at Malfoy and anyone of his blood. That sort of curse can only be removed from its victims if it’s turned back to its caster, or someone of the caster’s blood. The closer the relation, the better."
Remus swore under his breath. "So that’s why he wanted Harry," he said aloud. "It makes sense, now."
"More sense than you’re going to want it to." Sirius glanced towards the doorway of the room where Ray slept. "Narcissa and Peri ruined Malfoy’s game before he had time to do anything to Harry. The curse is still there, still potent. Malfoy’s dying by inches."
"Is this bad?"
"Some of the Healers ran tests on Narcissa’s body," Aletha said. "They found signs of the same sorts of effects on her. The curse was beginning to affect her as well when she died."
"When Malfoy killed her," Remus corrected absently, then stopped. "But she wasn’t any blood to him—well, somewhere very far back, but that can’t be why it affected her—"
"It’s not," Sirius said. "It hit her because she bore Malfoy’s child. Hell of a clever curse, this one—backtracking through bloodlines..."
"Agreed," said Remus with a shrug. "Forgive me for sounding callous, Sirius, but Narcissa’s dead. Is it important how she would have died if she hadn’t already died?"
"Yes." Aletha had her eyes closed. "It is." She opened them and met Remus’ gaze, her own laden with pain. "Malfoy admitted to using spells to increase his own fertility, and Peri’s, before he did what he did. It worked. She’s pregnant. And even if the child dies, the line has been established."
Several phrases collided within Remus’ mind.
"Malfoy’s child...blood curse...anyone of his blood..."
His lungs stopped working.
"Backtracking through bloodlines...the line has been established..."
"No," he breathed with the last of his air. "Please, no."
Their silence was answer enough.
"How long?" he whispered.
"We don’t know," Aletha answered, the sorrow in her tone quietly respectful of his. "A month, maybe two. No longer."
A month. Maybe two.
Remus felt his dreams fade into the distance, the happy laughter in them now bitter and mocking.
I knew there’d be a catch somewhere. But not like this.
Not like this.
Author Notes:
Nothing like a little pain and suffering to round off the old year...
Yes, I’m horrible. Tell me how horrible, won’t you?