A/N: Y'all continue to blow me away with your response to this AU. :) And a hearty welcome to all new readers! Lovely to see you.
To the Guest with the French - I left "some French birds" the way it was because, as you said, Remus's French is not good and getting the articles right isn't always something that's going to happen, even with more familiarity with a language. I do thank you, however. If you'd PM me, I could use a French eye on a future line or two from someone. Otherwise Google Translate will continue to suffice.
Chapter Five: New Year's Eve, Part One
31 December 1996, Lancaster Gardens
"But Hermione, dear, really. They're all expecting to see you!" Doctor Emma Granger pouted at her reflection in her mirror in order to check the line of her lip. Then, she applied a fixative to the color and Hermione marveled a bit to see it. She didn't pay much heed to Terrestre forms of cosmetics, as everything she'd been shown in France was magical. "And you had mentioned being interested in the practice as well—"
Hermione sighed and sank down on the chaise lounge in her mother's bedroom. "No, Mum. You mentioned it and I know you've been quite diligently concerned with my post-Beauxbatons education. But I am likely going to study for Masteries in magical areas, you know. And seek to do some good, somewhere. Perhaps in Paris," she added. Her parents had never been all that concerned with her proximity, leaving her to the care of the au pair and then allowing her to go to school on the continent. In the past couple of years, especially, there had been an increase in distance between them. This did not, to her dismay, always sadden her. Just sometimes. Like at the Tournament, when they might have been proud of her performance.
Her mother turned on her vanity stool; it was upholstered with a rose-hued fabric but had no back to speak of. Her vanity table was done in a black lacquer and there was a brightly lit mirror to show her all her beauties and flaws. Hermione had never liked the vanity table.
"You can do plenty of good as an oral surgeon, Hermione. Or perhaps law. You could even stand for Parliament! I've got our MP, Larissa Jackson-Thorne, on our guest list this evening. I'm sure she would love to meet you."
"Impressive, Mum, but no. I've already accepted the invitation to Lord Black's party and it would be quite rude to turn him down."
"A lord, you say? In your magical world?"
"Yes, Mum." She rose and played gently with the golden chain she wore at her throat. "I am so sorry you were unable to meet him at the Tournament."
Her mother turned back to her mirror, nonverbally dismissing her. "Well, it's a different world, dear. We knew that years ago. Will you need taxi fare?"
"No, I'll manage. Thank you."
On her way to her own suite of rooms on the floor above, she nearly collided with her father, who had had an emergency at his surgery and was hurrying home to change for the party. He came charging up the stairs like boys heading to dinner. "Hermione! Oh, hello, princess. Lovely to see you. Ready for this evening?" He looked beyond her, a bit out of breath and undoing his tie as he spoke. His hair was thick and dark blond, shot through with gray. Her mother's, in contrast, was kept a rich brown through whatever means they used at the salon. Hermione's hair was most like her mother's. But her father was more like her in personality. "I heard mother got the MP to drop by later, you know."
"She told me, Dad. I won't be here, though. I've got an invitation to another party from Lord Black. He's up in Kensington, you know."
Her father frowned thoughtfully. "Well, you'll be careful, right? You have a ride? I don't want you driving tonight; not with it being New Year's Eve."
She smiled and moved to reach the stairs, sliding her hand over her father's shoulder as she did so. "I'll be fine, Dad. I'm Apparating. Teleporting, remember? I showed you over the summer?"
Her father's light blue eyes went wide. "Oh, quite. Indeed. Yes. Well, then. You should be safe enough, yes? Can you, er, teleport right back to your room, then? Or should we leave the kitchen door open?"
Hermione leaned against the wall at the foot of the stairs. "I think leave the door open for me? If you would? Just to be safe."
"Certainly." Her father crossed the landing to her and dropped a kiss to her head. "Have a good time in Kensington, princess. See you next year."
She groaned at his bad joke and hurried up the stairs. She had a little black dress to transfigure. It would certainly be simpler to do than other things she was practicing her transfiguration skills on.
Kensington
"You're joking, right? Please tell me you're drunk or under the Imperius, Sirius." Remus rubbed his hands over his head and fell back more deeply into the leather club chair in the lounge on the lower level of the Black townhouse.
Sirius blew out a breath and nudged a stack of old, leather-bound books on the low table in front of the sofa. With the toe of his shoe. He was not going to touch such books without a ward if he could help it. "Not joking, no. Wish I were, really. Albus got me thinking and I went back there and ransacked the library."
Remus went a bit pale. "There? You did? I was never so glad as when we shut that door behind us, Pads."
"Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. Merlin. Hate that address."
"Why'd you go there?" Remus looked around, found his firewhisky, and took a fortifying sip. The lounge in the "new" house was so much superior, filled with light and classic furniture that was both modern but also felt sturdy with tradition. Nothing in the room even hinted at dark magic, save for those books in front of him.
Sirius cleared his throat and sat up stiffly from the sofa cushions before saying, "One ought never to turn one's back on a threatened danger and try to run away from it. If you do that, you will double the danger. But if you meet it promptly and without flinching, you will reduce the danger by half."
"Who said that, one of the Peverells? Bathilda Bagshot?"
"Winston Churchill."
"Blimey, Sirius. You were reaching, weren't you. This is serious. No," he went on with a slanted smile. "Don't say it. So, is Kreacher still there?"
Sirius made a rude sound, not even caring that Remus found it amusing. If anything could be smile-worthy in this whole business, that was. "He is. I'm not sure what kind of relationship he and my mother had, but it couldn't have been healthy." With a sincere shudder, he grimaced and sipped at his own firewhisky. "Merlin. The way they were carrying on whilst I was there was just . . . it would explain a lot. I think Kreacher decided my mother was his mate or something." Remus started and Sirius met his look without flinching. "I know. Anyway. As Churchill said, one should meet a threatened danger head on. I got bloody tired of waiting for Albus Bleeding Dumbledore to tell me what he was thinking, when it was my son who was orphaned due to the war, so I went looking for a few things, based on what he said. But I don't know what to make of what I've got here, and I could use your help."
"So . . . what is it that he said?" Remus asked, setting down his drink on the end table and kneeling to peer at the spines of the books on the table. "These titles are . . . frightening, Sirius. Godelot wrote two of them! His work is in the Restricted Section at the Hogwarts Library."
With a snort Sirius nodded. "Only you would know that. So, yes. Magick Moste Evil is one of his more tame works, really. And that's where I started."
Blowing out a breath, Remus carefully spread the books out so he could study them with a minimal need to touch them. "So, what did Dumbledore tell you?" he asked as he returned to his chair.
"Remember Quirrell and the whole Philosopher's Stone thing that happened a few years ago?"
"Of course. Took years off of me, Sirius. Our Harry having to actually come near that, that thing."
"Right. Well. Albus also mentioned the diary. The one that the Weasley girl tossed away from her and such. There was all the trouble with the petrified Muggleborns, remember?"
"Not something I'm likely to forget, no. The blood on the walls? And they figured that Ginevra was, what, possessed? Is that what the Mind Healer concluded?"
"Yeah. Never told Harry or Neville that, though. Didn't want to worry them. She's still seeing the Mind Healer. I get reports." Sirius felt that paying for it was the right thing to do, as the Weasleys were distant relations. He never felt the need to mention it. He just leaned back and crossed his legs. "So, I got to thinking. How does a man possess another person when that man was killed years ago?" The pain of James and Lily's deaths would never truly leave him entirely, Sirius knew. But he felt he was doing his level best with the charge they had given him. When he met them again on the other side, he'd be able to look them in the eyes. That was one of the main goals of his life.
Remus pushed himself to his feet and began to pace, using his hands to punctuate his words as he thought out loud. "Judging by those books, I guess you're looking at a way to store, what, a soul? A spirit? The essence of someone?"
Sirius silently Summoned Magick Moste Evil from the table. "This book mentions something called a horcrux, Moony. Ever hear of one of those?"
His best friend halted in mid-stride, fingers splayed as they'd been a moment before. "What?" he asked on a rasp. "A horcrux? Sirius. No."
Swallowing a hard knot of fear down, Sirius nodded slowly. "Yes. So. We need to figure out what these are, exactly, and handle them before You-Know-Who figures out how to get a body of his own and quit borrowing little girls'."
"Dad? Remus?" Harry's voice preceded him, echoing in the hall outside of the room.
Sirius and Remus both tried to deal with the books before them in such a way as to hide them from Harry; Sirius tried to Banish them under the sofa and Remus endeavored to Disillusion them. Both were successful and both were left to wonder if they'd remember there were Dark books hiding in the room. "In here, Harry," Sirius called after a moment.
His son opened the paneled door, eyes wide and questioning. "It is New Year's Eve, right?" Panic entered his tone as he tugged at his untucked black shirt. "Did I get the wrong day? You know, on vacation, I can't keep track of the dates as well."
And there in the midst of a room filled with Dark Magic texts, fear, and grief, Sirius felt himself smile. He stood and crossed the room to wrap one arm around his son and pull him close for a moment. "Thank you, Harry. I needed that. And yes, it's New Year's Eve and yes, I need to dress for this party." Moving away, he eyed Remus. "So do you. What were you looking for me for, son?"
He unbuttoned the top button. "Do I have to wear a tie?"
Even Remus started laughing at that and Sirius was grateful that he had a son. "You're such a teenager!"
"Yeah, and? Do I?"
"No."
"Luna and her father are here, Dad!" Harry shook Xenophilius's hand and helped to brush the soot from Luna's party dress. He might have taken longer than he needed to, but she didn't seem to mind and her father didn't appear to have noticed. There was no one else in the reception room, and even the portraits were motionless as the Lovegoods stepped on the black marble tile of the hearth-slash-landing in front of the fireplace. Here, there was plenty of light from lamps and candles, since no one wanted to have lingering soot on their clothing before mingling with other guests.
Dadfoot entered through the double doors in a big way, as he tended to do when hosting a party or event. He walked into the Wizengamot the same manner, shoulders back as if he were set to conquer the room. Harry never even tried to imitate him; he would have looked ridiculous.
"Xenophilius. Luna. Welcome." Harry watched his dad do the polite stuff; he knew he'd have to be able to do it himself, one day. Someday, Harry knew he would be a Lord and have responsibilities and so on. There was a darkness hanging about Sirius lately that made Harry think about such things, well, more seriously. "Come in to the party room; Alastor Moody just arrived."
Harry watched as Luna stayed next to his dad, who held his arm out to the girl and made Harry himself a bit jealous; he'd been wanting to do that!
"Luna. I, er, wanted to thank you for taking the time to talk with me at the Yule Ball."
Luna, who was wearing a dress that seemed to glow like the full moon on a clear night, smiled and slid something under his hand when she took his arm. "I brought it with me, if you're ready. The potion, I mean. Do you know when you'd have to take it?"
"I do. Three days past new."
Luna beamed and Harry scowled, deciding Luna was his guest, after all. He moved to her other side as they left the reception room where the Floo was. "Want some punch or cider?" he asked her, ignoring his dad's chuckle as he eased Luna away from him.
The girl, his favorite girl, smiled up at him, her pale blue eyes taking on the glow from her dress, it seemed to him. "That would be lovely. We match, you know," she observed, her gaze sliding down his body in way that felt almost tangible.
Almost too tangible, really. Harry willed his sudden, unexpected erection to just go away. "Match? I'm all in black and you're all . . ." He stopped and gestured with his free hand in a sweeping motion. "All white and shiny."
"I'm the Moon, silly, and you're the Night."
They had reached the main drawing room, where the party and dancing were, and he led her over to one wall so they could talk without feeling like they were the center of attention. "And that makes us match?"
She took a breath, then, and her cheeks went pink even in the subtle glow from the candles of the chandelier. "The moon belongs with the night, you know. That's where she shines the brightest."
His heart thumped quite hard in his chest and he drew in a long, quiet breath. "The moon shines wherever she is, all the time, Luna. You know that." Her pale brow furrowed and she drew back a bit and Harry knew—he just knew!—he'd made a hash of it. He was not good at talking to girls! Quickly, he pulled her back against himself, so hard that she fell into him and he fell against the wall. She was pressed, ever so briefly, to the entire length of his body and he smiled before casting "smooth" to the winds. "I think you shine all the time," he whispered. Then, he kissed her.
And the Night held the Moon in all her shining glory and no one seemed to notice.
Sirius noticed his son and Luna snogging against the wall and cast a simple Notice-Me-Not about them to give them a bit of privacy. Alastor Moody saw them, of course, but Moody could not have given a rat's arse what they were doing so long as they weren't asking him to join them.
Removing the small phial and note Luna Lovegood had slipped to him a few minutes before, Sirius smiled sadly. The room with the low sounds of an old Victrola record player and some classic vinyl records from the 1970s faded from his awareness as he remembered another room filled with music: the Great Hall at Hogwarts.
"I'm so glad you said you'd dance with me, Lord Black," Luna Lovegood had said at the Yule Ball. "You've been lonely."
He'd darted a suspicious glare at his son, who was then dancing with Hermione Granger and looking rather amused. "What has he been saying?"
"Oh, nothing about you, Lord Black. I was just noticing." She smiled vaguely and tilted her head, seemingly having no care about how they were dancing at all.
He led them both toward the fringes of the dancers so that they didn't get in anyone's way. "I would always be honored to dance with you," he finally decided to say.
"Oh, thank you." She sighed and looked at the air around his head. "So, you are lonely. You could discover your soulmate, you know. It's not terribly hard, though most people don't choose to do so."
As this was Luna and as she was important to his son, Sirius played along. "Why not?"
The young woman cocked her head and scrunched up her face for a bit in a way that was, truly, quite adorable. Sirius managed not to smile. "Well, there's a responsibility, isn't there, with a soulmate. To see to their happiness and well-being. Especially in times like these. When Harry had to go after . . . you know. In his fourth year?"
Sirius felt a chill all the way to his toes. "When you and Neville . . ."
She nodded quickly. "Yes, exactly. It's times like that that having a soulmate is perhaps hard to embrace, but it can be done!" With a smile, she swayed a little and studied his shoulder. "You should find yours. A soulmate can help you in the times that are coming, Lord Black. I can show you how to find him or her."
"All right, how?" he asked, trying not to sound impatient but the music was almost over and he would be delivering the girl back to Neville shortly.
"I know a potion. My father used it and it's safe. I've used it as well. There's a spell for discovery and clarity and then you take it at the stage of the moon that prevailed over your birth." Her smile bloomed bright all at once. "That's why I'm named Luna!"
"Eh, Black. What kind of host are you, now?" Moody punched him lightly on the arm, jostling Sirius from his memory. "I've heard your Floo open already. Who's here and why do they just have carte blanche to enter, eh? C'mon, lad, wake up!" He brought a palm-sized silver flask to his lips and took a couple of sips. "Aren't you our host, here? Or is this just another political brouhaha?"
"Enough, Moody." Remus smiled apologetically as he came in the room. "Hey, Sirius. So," he went on, "did any special guests arrive yet?"
Tapping the phial with the potion and incantation that were carefully stowed in a pocket, Sirius nodded. "Xenophilius and his daughter are here." With a small flick of his wrist, he removed the Notice-Me-Not from around Harry and Luna. "Harry! Uncle Remus is here."
Red all over his face, his son stuttered an apology but whether it was to him or to Luna would forever remain a mystery. Because just then, someone else arrived in his reception area via the Floo and Remus's eyes went wide with wonder and a bit of terror.
"Oi! Cousin! Did you put something on the floor in here? I fell flat on my arse!"
Andromeda—who had been with Ted doing who knew what in the kitchens below, chose that moment to make her reappearance. "Nymphadora!"
"Tonks, Mum. You know better. What kind of an Auror goes by the name of Nymphadora?"
Moody laughed, a rough sound that was more like a rusty gate opening than an indicator of genuine amusement. "An Auror with more hair than sense, I'd wager."
"Padfoot," Remus said as Nymphadora Tonks—Auror, cousin on the Black side, clumsy blood traitor, and Metamorphmagus—stomped right into the room. Her hair was black with a white streak, her dress was bright pink, and her boots were low in the heel and laced up to her knees. "Padfoot."
"What is it, Moony?" Sirius asked, his eyes on his cousin as Andromeda confronted her over her choice of language.
"It's her. Bloody hell, she's—"
Remus sounded so broken, so confused, that Sirius turned them both away from the intense sarcasm exploding across the room from them. No privacy could be had, exactly, but he did his best. "What's wrong, Moony? It's not the moon, I know that much."
"It's her, Pads." The man's eyes were golden, his scarred cheeks were flushed, and a sweat had broken out at his temples.
Sirius took a quick whiff and discovered the unthinkable: Remus was in the grip of a very strong lust. He'd have said that his best mate was in heat, but males didn't experience that. "Well, shit," he muttered. "Remus. My cousin? Really? But you've never been with a girl, have you?"
"Not since sixth year, no. Padfoot. Help me?"
"Why her?"
"Wolf. Wants a mate. How can I? I mean—"
"Yeah, it's going to be a bit of a mess there, mate. She's dating Charlie Weasley."
At that information, Remus swore loudly and Apparated right out of the room. Sirius pushed out a breath, hoped Remus was in his old bedroom upstairs, and turned to greet his cousin himself. How the hell did he mention the whole wolf-mate thing? And what about Charlie?
"Nym-pha-do-ra," he said, deliberately drawing her ire from Andromeda to himself. "Glad you could make it."
"Sirius Orion Black, you verifiable S.O.B.!" Tonks rounded on him, hair flashing red. "What do you think you're—"
"Hello, Tonks," Harry said quickly, pulling Luna along as he came to greet their guest. "Good to see you. Have you met Luna Lovegood? Luna, this is my cousin, Auror Tonks. Just call her Tonks. It saves time."
Luna smiled in that way she had that made Sirius think she wasn't entirely there—though the girl had proved time and again that she certainly was—and held out her hand. "Oh, hello, Tonks. I think that many people who are closer to the earth have the way of it. One should get to choose one's own name when one reaches an age of reason. I am sure you'd agree. Me, I'd still keep mine." She rolled herself up in Harry's arm. "I quite like being a Moon held by the Night."
Sirius laughed first and loudest when his cousin gaped at the girl before taking her hand in both of hers. "You, I like," Tonks declared emphatically. "Come on, you two can help me give Charlie access to the Floo, all right?"
"All right, Dad?" Harry asked quietly.
Thinking of his best mate hopefully upstairs, Sirius nodded. It was going to be one hell of a bloody party at the rate it was going.
And Hermione Granger had yet to arrive.
A/N: We're not done with NYE yet! More on Thursday, when Hermione gets to the party and the action picks up a bit. All of this, though, is pertinent, honest.
Oh! For the Harry and Luna 'ship, uhohspaghettiooos has recommended "Pottergood" as an appellation. I like it. Pottergood is a happening thing in this AU.