Chapter Three: Where Even Harry Dares Not Go
A raucous party was just what they all needed. And what better place to hold one than Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Remus and Lorenzo had been working on this surprise for their mother for nearly a year, whispering quietly and sending covert owls to Fred and George Weasley, and communicating with their cousin in Montana to find out everything they could about the American Independence Day. Nick had been very helpful, sending lists of supplies they would need and helping them obtain items that were nearly impossible to find in Britain-like American flags and fat Texas watermelons. It all began on the last fourth of July, when Roxanne had said she missed that celebration. She did not often speak of her home, at least not of missing it. But apparently she thought about it more than she let on.
The entire castle was bursting with red, white, and blue when Roxanne arrived with the Andrews family. Simon had two older brothers, fourteen and sixteen, and between these two, Simon, and the twins, they managed to make the wizard world seem a very inviting place indeed. Lorenzo excitedly showed them the box of wizard fireworks, explaining that tonight they would go to the top of the castle wall to light them. In America, fireworks were never done indoors, they explained, as if the Andrews boys did it all the time. Remus, the quieter of the two, seemed to come into his own as he led them on a furious tour of the castle.
They had a barbecue high on the west wall, sitting in lawn chairs, wearing shorts and sunglasses against the bright sun. 'Thank Merlin it's sunny today,' thought Harry. They all needed it to be sunny today. They all needed to have a bit of a sunburn and some warmth. They cooked hot dogs, hamburgers, and thick steaks over hot coals, magically conjured by the house elves. There was potato salad thick with mayonnaise and mustard, potato chips, watermelons as big as Samantha and plenty of cold soda pop. Sirius and Mr. Andrews enjoyed, tolerated anyway, cold American beer. Harry didn't like it much and stuck to the soda pop. Later they would toast marshmallows and make something Roxanne called s'mores. The Andrews seemed to know what they were.
Remus and Lorenzo doted over their mother, letting her relax in the warm sun while they did everything, with Harry's help.
Simon seemed especially interested in the school. He would, after all, be attending before too much longer. Lorenzo proudly told him that he and his brother would be attending a school in America in the fall. Remus tried to sound as happy about it. In reality he was very nervous about going, leaving his family and everything familiar. Simon looked disappointed. He had hoped to have someone he knew at the school when he started out. Someone he knew would not be afraid of him.
Leaving the older boys behind, the three of them ran out to the Quidditch field as the sun began to set. Lorenzo excitedly described the game to him, making swooping gestures with his hands and arms and telling Simon how great their uncle Harry was at it.
"He plays professionally, you know," Remus said.
"Professionally? Amazing!" said Simon, a look of awe on his face as he stared skyward, trying to imagine it from the boys' descriptions. But in the sky he spotted the waning moon rising over the mountains to the east. He had always liked the moon, until now. Now it filled him with a dread he could not control. He knew the moon meant pain for him-lifelong pain. He shuddered and hugged himself, frowning. "I'd like to go back now," he said quietly.
Remus and Lorenzo looked at the moon as well, then at each other.
"Simon," said Remus, "are you afraid?"
Simon nodded. He was squeezing his eyes shut, trying to keep himself from crying.
Remus had inherited a kind heart from his father. As Lorenzo looked awkwardly on, his brother put an arm around the smaller boy's shoulders and steered him back towards the castle. "My father was only eight when he was bitten," Remus said. "Mum says he was a hero because he never let it turn him into a monster on the inside, even though his body turned into a monster every time the moon was full."
"Your mum says it hurts," said Simon, his lower lip trembling.
"So does a skinned knee," said Remus.
"I think it hurts more than a skinned knee," said Simon.
"I suppose you're right. But my mum'll find a cure. You'll see. She'll find a way to keep it from hurting."
"I hope she finds it soon," said Simon. "I only have twenty six more days."
"You're counting?" said Lorenzo. "You can't count. You'll never be able to have any fun if you're always counting the days until the next time."
"I have to count. I have to know when it will happen. I have to-"
"No you don't. Just buy a calendar with the moon phases on it. Then it'll be there to remind you and you only have to think about it every once in a while." Lorenzo sounded as if this made perfect sense. And in a way it did. But he didn't understand everything Simon would have to endure, and he didn't understand that Simon would always need to know when the moon would be full, even without a calendar to help him.
Roxanne would need to train him, to teach him to change the rhythm of his life to fit into the twenty-nine day pattern that would rule him until the day he died. He needed to count. He needed to know. He needed to think about it all the time until it became second nature. Until that happened, and it could take him several years, he needed to count; to wake every morning with the number on his lips-twenty-six, twenty-five, twenty-four, three, two, one.
"Mum says you're getting a dog," said Remus, trying to brighten the mood a bit. "I wish she'd let us get one. I always wanted a dog."
"Me too," said Lorenzo wistfully.
"My mum's worried," said Simon, grateful for the new distraction. "I'm allergic to dogs. But your mum says I shouldn't be anymore. Anyway, tomorrow we're going to go looking. Your mum says it needs to be a big one."
"I'd love a big dog-a Saint Bernard or something," said Lorenzo. "Maybe he'd eat our little sisters."
Simon and Remus laughed.
"Your mum says a dog'll help me through it. He'll be a friend for me while I'm-well-changed. She says I won't hurt him, as long as he likes me anyway, as long as we form a pack-whatever that means."
"It means," said a voice in front of them, "that you and your dog will be like a family, like brothers." It was Sirius. He had come looking for them. The sun was down now and it would soon be dark enough to light the fireworks. He wanted the boys to help him carry the boxes from the Headmaster's tower. "Lorenzo, you and Remus go on ahead. You know where the boxes are?" They nodded and ran off across the grass, grinning encouragingly at Simon.
Sirius placed a hand on the boy's shoulder and they walked together back toward the castle. "I'm going to tell you a secret, Simon. But you must promise not to tell anyone else. You'll know about it, and doubtless you'll hear legends about it that only you will be able to understand. But you cannot tell what you know-especially if you are to come to Hogwarts."
Simon nodded, a little doubtfully. He had been taught all his life that secrets could be a dangerous thing. Now, in the last two days, with the encouragement of his parents, he was being asked to keep some fantastic secrets. Although he hesitated, he found it a little exhilarating to be trusted with knowledge that most people must never know. "I promise," he said quietly.
"Remus and Lorenzo's father had a packmate, three of them actually. They stayed together all during his transformation, playing, exploring, roaming these very grounds." His arm swept toward the forest. "In those days there was no potion to calm him. He was fierce and uncontrollable, except when he was with his pack."
Sirius paused, considering the boy for a moment before continuing.
"I was one of his packmates."
Simon started. "But, why didn't he bite you? Could he tell that you were his-"
"He didn't bite me because I took the shape of a dog. The others took animal forms as well. As long as we were creatures, not humans, he could not harm us-couldn't infect us anyway. I suppose we risked him hurting us- he certainly had the strength to do so. But we were friends long before then. He recognized us as such after we transformed as well."
"How did you do it? Transform, I mean."
"That's the tricky part, Simon. Technically I'm not supposed to have the power to transform. It's called Animagination. It's a difficult process, very dangerous if you don't know what you're doing. We were young and stupid, and brilliant if I may say so, and somehow managed it without killing ourselves. But the thing about an Animagus is that, by wizard law, he must be registered. I am not registered. And now, here I am. I am an illegal Animagus and Headmaster of this school. Do you see how that could cause problems for me?"
Simon nodded, then changed his mind and shook his head, bewildered.
"In reality," Sirius explained, "most of the wizarding world knows about my power now. But if the students found out that I obtained them while a student here myself-I'm afraid many of them might think themselves capable of it as well. And, unfortunately most who try will not be. I don't want to have to send a child home to their mother in a body bag filled with unrecognizable furry bits. Now do you understand why you must keep it a secret?"
Simon nodded uncertainly. "I won't tell anyone," he said. "But, Mr. Black, will I be able to bring my dog with me when I come?"
"Technically dogs are not considered an appropriate pet at Hogwarts. But for you," Sirius smiled down at him, "I think we can make an exception."
*****
Harry frowned as he pressed his way through the crowds of shoppers on Diagon Alley. After graduating from Hogwarts he had enjoyed a great deal of freedom from the ever-present gawkers, eager to catch a glimpse or shake the hand of the famous Harry Potter. Sure, he willingly gave them the opportunity on the Quidditch pitch. It was part of the job-part of the thrill. But when he changed his Quidditch robes for jeans, t-shirt, and tennis shoes, he preferred that they all leave him alone.
So he avoided trips to Diagon Alley, with its rows of wizard shops and its hordes of wizards and witches doing their shopping. But today Roxanne had insisted. She was going in to London and invited him along. He needed the distraction, needed to make contact with the muggle world once in a while- needed him to help her carry all the stuff she was going to buy, most likely.
But he followed along anyway. He was relieved when they finally stepped onto the sidewalk outside the door of the Leaky Cauldron. This portal between muggledom and the wizard world was too popular with the "Oh-look- Mabel-It's-Harry-Potter!" crowd. Instead Harry and Roxanne stopped for lunch at a brightly lit muggle pub that grilled up the best hamburgers in Britain.
"It's nice to be ignored," said Harry brightly, before biting into his huge hamburger. It was smothered with cheese and onions and mushroom and was far too large for his mouth.
Roxanne took a knife and fork to hers, cutting off bite-sized pieces. "Ignored? What about the girls?" she asked. "You don't want them to ignore you, do you?"
Harry snorted. "If I thought one of them was looking at me for my fetching eyes and rugged good looks I might not mind. But all they see is 'Harry Potter, boy wonder.' How am I supposed to find a girl that likes me for who I am, not what I am? Ron stole away the only one I can trust."
Roxanne nodded and shrugged. "Then you're dead set against dating muggles?"
"Roxanne," he protested, "what would we have to talk about? Quidditch? Transfiguration? 'No. Sorry. I can't give you my phone number. I don't have one. But I'll tell you the name of my owl if you'd like.'"
"Talk about astrology," she suggested. "Talk about the stars, or the moon, or the weather. Tell her you're interested in mythology. Tell her-"
"Roxanne!" He was growing exasperated "OK. Let's say I meet a really great muggle girl. We date for a while. I somehow find a way to speak to her without sounding like a paranoid schizophrenic who believes fairy tales are real. How am I supposed to convince her they are real and keep her around long enough to make a go of it? I can't lie to a woman her whole life. I'd have to tell her sometime. Exactly how and when do I do that?"
"My father did."
"Did what?"
"Lied to a woman her whole life-two of them actually," said Roxanne grimly.
"Yes, but look what he gave up to do it. I'm not willing to do that-not to myself, and not to her. The magical world has been everything to me. It saved me from a fate worse than death. I won't give it up. Not for a woman."
"Have you thought about trying another country? America? China?" Roxanne asked.
"I've been to all those places. The gawking doesn't change-only the features on the faces," Harry grumbled.
"Look, Harry. Muggles find out about the magical world all the time. Hermione's family, me, Simon," Roxanne reasoned. "A girl in love can adapt just as easily, don't you think? And talk about the ultimate test of love- 'By the way, darling. I want you to forget everything you ever thought you believed about the world,'" Roxanne said, imitating Harry's accent rather poorly. "If she doesn't stick around she obviously wasn't the right one."
Harry shrugged. "Maybe," he conceded.
"And you want to know how and when to tell her? I've decided that there's no better time than as soon as possible, and no better way than to just get it over with in one breath and pick up the pieces later."
Harry shrugged again.
"Come on, Harry. What's the worst that could happen? You can always have Arthur Weasley put a memory charm on her and no one ever has to know you made a fool of yourself."
Harry smiled. "Do you think he would?"
"Who Arthur? For you? Of course!"
A raucous party was just what they all needed. And what better place to hold one than Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Remus and Lorenzo had been working on this surprise for their mother for nearly a year, whispering quietly and sending covert owls to Fred and George Weasley, and communicating with their cousin in Montana to find out everything they could about the American Independence Day. Nick had been very helpful, sending lists of supplies they would need and helping them obtain items that were nearly impossible to find in Britain-like American flags and fat Texas watermelons. It all began on the last fourth of July, when Roxanne had said she missed that celebration. She did not often speak of her home, at least not of missing it. But apparently she thought about it more than she let on.
The entire castle was bursting with red, white, and blue when Roxanne arrived with the Andrews family. Simon had two older brothers, fourteen and sixteen, and between these two, Simon, and the twins, they managed to make the wizard world seem a very inviting place indeed. Lorenzo excitedly showed them the box of wizard fireworks, explaining that tonight they would go to the top of the castle wall to light them. In America, fireworks were never done indoors, they explained, as if the Andrews boys did it all the time. Remus, the quieter of the two, seemed to come into his own as he led them on a furious tour of the castle.
They had a barbecue high on the west wall, sitting in lawn chairs, wearing shorts and sunglasses against the bright sun. 'Thank Merlin it's sunny today,' thought Harry. They all needed it to be sunny today. They all needed to have a bit of a sunburn and some warmth. They cooked hot dogs, hamburgers, and thick steaks over hot coals, magically conjured by the house elves. There was potato salad thick with mayonnaise and mustard, potato chips, watermelons as big as Samantha and plenty of cold soda pop. Sirius and Mr. Andrews enjoyed, tolerated anyway, cold American beer. Harry didn't like it much and stuck to the soda pop. Later they would toast marshmallows and make something Roxanne called s'mores. The Andrews seemed to know what they were.
Remus and Lorenzo doted over their mother, letting her relax in the warm sun while they did everything, with Harry's help.
Simon seemed especially interested in the school. He would, after all, be attending before too much longer. Lorenzo proudly told him that he and his brother would be attending a school in America in the fall. Remus tried to sound as happy about it. In reality he was very nervous about going, leaving his family and everything familiar. Simon looked disappointed. He had hoped to have someone he knew at the school when he started out. Someone he knew would not be afraid of him.
Leaving the older boys behind, the three of them ran out to the Quidditch field as the sun began to set. Lorenzo excitedly described the game to him, making swooping gestures with his hands and arms and telling Simon how great their uncle Harry was at it.
"He plays professionally, you know," Remus said.
"Professionally? Amazing!" said Simon, a look of awe on his face as he stared skyward, trying to imagine it from the boys' descriptions. But in the sky he spotted the waning moon rising over the mountains to the east. He had always liked the moon, until now. Now it filled him with a dread he could not control. He knew the moon meant pain for him-lifelong pain. He shuddered and hugged himself, frowning. "I'd like to go back now," he said quietly.
Remus and Lorenzo looked at the moon as well, then at each other.
"Simon," said Remus, "are you afraid?"
Simon nodded. He was squeezing his eyes shut, trying to keep himself from crying.
Remus had inherited a kind heart from his father. As Lorenzo looked awkwardly on, his brother put an arm around the smaller boy's shoulders and steered him back towards the castle. "My father was only eight when he was bitten," Remus said. "Mum says he was a hero because he never let it turn him into a monster on the inside, even though his body turned into a monster every time the moon was full."
"Your mum says it hurts," said Simon, his lower lip trembling.
"So does a skinned knee," said Remus.
"I think it hurts more than a skinned knee," said Simon.
"I suppose you're right. But my mum'll find a cure. You'll see. She'll find a way to keep it from hurting."
"I hope she finds it soon," said Simon. "I only have twenty six more days."
"You're counting?" said Lorenzo. "You can't count. You'll never be able to have any fun if you're always counting the days until the next time."
"I have to count. I have to know when it will happen. I have to-"
"No you don't. Just buy a calendar with the moon phases on it. Then it'll be there to remind you and you only have to think about it every once in a while." Lorenzo sounded as if this made perfect sense. And in a way it did. But he didn't understand everything Simon would have to endure, and he didn't understand that Simon would always need to know when the moon would be full, even without a calendar to help him.
Roxanne would need to train him, to teach him to change the rhythm of his life to fit into the twenty-nine day pattern that would rule him until the day he died. He needed to count. He needed to know. He needed to think about it all the time until it became second nature. Until that happened, and it could take him several years, he needed to count; to wake every morning with the number on his lips-twenty-six, twenty-five, twenty-four, three, two, one.
"Mum says you're getting a dog," said Remus, trying to brighten the mood a bit. "I wish she'd let us get one. I always wanted a dog."
"Me too," said Lorenzo wistfully.
"My mum's worried," said Simon, grateful for the new distraction. "I'm allergic to dogs. But your mum says I shouldn't be anymore. Anyway, tomorrow we're going to go looking. Your mum says it needs to be a big one."
"I'd love a big dog-a Saint Bernard or something," said Lorenzo. "Maybe he'd eat our little sisters."
Simon and Remus laughed.
"Your mum says a dog'll help me through it. He'll be a friend for me while I'm-well-changed. She says I won't hurt him, as long as he likes me anyway, as long as we form a pack-whatever that means."
"It means," said a voice in front of them, "that you and your dog will be like a family, like brothers." It was Sirius. He had come looking for them. The sun was down now and it would soon be dark enough to light the fireworks. He wanted the boys to help him carry the boxes from the Headmaster's tower. "Lorenzo, you and Remus go on ahead. You know where the boxes are?" They nodded and ran off across the grass, grinning encouragingly at Simon.
Sirius placed a hand on the boy's shoulder and they walked together back toward the castle. "I'm going to tell you a secret, Simon. But you must promise not to tell anyone else. You'll know about it, and doubtless you'll hear legends about it that only you will be able to understand. But you cannot tell what you know-especially if you are to come to Hogwarts."
Simon nodded, a little doubtfully. He had been taught all his life that secrets could be a dangerous thing. Now, in the last two days, with the encouragement of his parents, he was being asked to keep some fantastic secrets. Although he hesitated, he found it a little exhilarating to be trusted with knowledge that most people must never know. "I promise," he said quietly.
"Remus and Lorenzo's father had a packmate, three of them actually. They stayed together all during his transformation, playing, exploring, roaming these very grounds." His arm swept toward the forest. "In those days there was no potion to calm him. He was fierce and uncontrollable, except when he was with his pack."
Sirius paused, considering the boy for a moment before continuing.
"I was one of his packmates."
Simon started. "But, why didn't he bite you? Could he tell that you were his-"
"He didn't bite me because I took the shape of a dog. The others took animal forms as well. As long as we were creatures, not humans, he could not harm us-couldn't infect us anyway. I suppose we risked him hurting us- he certainly had the strength to do so. But we were friends long before then. He recognized us as such after we transformed as well."
"How did you do it? Transform, I mean."
"That's the tricky part, Simon. Technically I'm not supposed to have the power to transform. It's called Animagination. It's a difficult process, very dangerous if you don't know what you're doing. We were young and stupid, and brilliant if I may say so, and somehow managed it without killing ourselves. But the thing about an Animagus is that, by wizard law, he must be registered. I am not registered. And now, here I am. I am an illegal Animagus and Headmaster of this school. Do you see how that could cause problems for me?"
Simon nodded, then changed his mind and shook his head, bewildered.
"In reality," Sirius explained, "most of the wizarding world knows about my power now. But if the students found out that I obtained them while a student here myself-I'm afraid many of them might think themselves capable of it as well. And, unfortunately most who try will not be. I don't want to have to send a child home to their mother in a body bag filled with unrecognizable furry bits. Now do you understand why you must keep it a secret?"
Simon nodded uncertainly. "I won't tell anyone," he said. "But, Mr. Black, will I be able to bring my dog with me when I come?"
"Technically dogs are not considered an appropriate pet at Hogwarts. But for you," Sirius smiled down at him, "I think we can make an exception."
*****
Harry frowned as he pressed his way through the crowds of shoppers on Diagon Alley. After graduating from Hogwarts he had enjoyed a great deal of freedom from the ever-present gawkers, eager to catch a glimpse or shake the hand of the famous Harry Potter. Sure, he willingly gave them the opportunity on the Quidditch pitch. It was part of the job-part of the thrill. But when he changed his Quidditch robes for jeans, t-shirt, and tennis shoes, he preferred that they all leave him alone.
So he avoided trips to Diagon Alley, with its rows of wizard shops and its hordes of wizards and witches doing their shopping. But today Roxanne had insisted. She was going in to London and invited him along. He needed the distraction, needed to make contact with the muggle world once in a while- needed him to help her carry all the stuff she was going to buy, most likely.
But he followed along anyway. He was relieved when they finally stepped onto the sidewalk outside the door of the Leaky Cauldron. This portal between muggledom and the wizard world was too popular with the "Oh-look- Mabel-It's-Harry-Potter!" crowd. Instead Harry and Roxanne stopped for lunch at a brightly lit muggle pub that grilled up the best hamburgers in Britain.
"It's nice to be ignored," said Harry brightly, before biting into his huge hamburger. It was smothered with cheese and onions and mushroom and was far too large for his mouth.
Roxanne took a knife and fork to hers, cutting off bite-sized pieces. "Ignored? What about the girls?" she asked. "You don't want them to ignore you, do you?"
Harry snorted. "If I thought one of them was looking at me for my fetching eyes and rugged good looks I might not mind. But all they see is 'Harry Potter, boy wonder.' How am I supposed to find a girl that likes me for who I am, not what I am? Ron stole away the only one I can trust."
Roxanne nodded and shrugged. "Then you're dead set against dating muggles?"
"Roxanne," he protested, "what would we have to talk about? Quidditch? Transfiguration? 'No. Sorry. I can't give you my phone number. I don't have one. But I'll tell you the name of my owl if you'd like.'"
"Talk about astrology," she suggested. "Talk about the stars, or the moon, or the weather. Tell her you're interested in mythology. Tell her-"
"Roxanne!" He was growing exasperated "OK. Let's say I meet a really great muggle girl. We date for a while. I somehow find a way to speak to her without sounding like a paranoid schizophrenic who believes fairy tales are real. How am I supposed to convince her they are real and keep her around long enough to make a go of it? I can't lie to a woman her whole life. I'd have to tell her sometime. Exactly how and when do I do that?"
"My father did."
"Did what?"
"Lied to a woman her whole life-two of them actually," said Roxanne grimly.
"Yes, but look what he gave up to do it. I'm not willing to do that-not to myself, and not to her. The magical world has been everything to me. It saved me from a fate worse than death. I won't give it up. Not for a woman."
"Have you thought about trying another country? America? China?" Roxanne asked.
"I've been to all those places. The gawking doesn't change-only the features on the faces," Harry grumbled.
"Look, Harry. Muggles find out about the magical world all the time. Hermione's family, me, Simon," Roxanne reasoned. "A girl in love can adapt just as easily, don't you think? And talk about the ultimate test of love- 'By the way, darling. I want you to forget everything you ever thought you believed about the world,'" Roxanne said, imitating Harry's accent rather poorly. "If she doesn't stick around she obviously wasn't the right one."
Harry shrugged. "Maybe," he conceded.
"And you want to know how and when to tell her? I've decided that there's no better time than as soon as possible, and no better way than to just get it over with in one breath and pick up the pieces later."
Harry shrugged again.
"Come on, Harry. What's the worst that could happen? You can always have Arthur Weasley put a memory charm on her and no one ever has to know you made a fool of yourself."
Harry smiled. "Do you think he would?"
"Who Arthur? For you? Of course!"