I do not own Harry Potter. I don't own much of anything...sad, really.
Chapter 11: Message for Moony
Harry stood at Lupin's shoulder, smiling as his Professor took Tala's hands. She was beaming radiantly, her soft, ice blue gown trailing behind her on the verdant grass. Her hair and the beaded fringe of her belt swung in the crisp breeze. They both turned to the officiate, an ancient Native American wizard who was so bent that it appeared he was bowing. He wore a colorful feathered cape on his shoulders, which fluttered as he raised his hands and began to chant.
Harry couldn't understand the words, but apparently Tala could, nodding at appropriate times, and nudging Lupin to tell him when he should also agree. He would grin and nod, his eyes locked on the woman before him.
Harry could see Texi behind Tala, dressed in a long buckskin robe, intricately beaded. She noticed his glance and smiled, starting up a running translation of the old Shaman's words. He was beginning to think he should have paid more attention to his Legillimency and Occlumency lessons, it appeared to have more uses than he had expected.
"As the wheel turns and turns again," Her voice said silently in his mind, "We find and lose and find again. And join the cycle with those who we are meant to know. This wheel is not just here in this physical world, but continues spinning in the afterlife, onwards and upwards. And we know that no one is ever lost to its spokes. Weaving the tapestry of life, the wheel can bind people together and pull their threads from the picture. And when it decides to bring two people together, even though they are worlds apart, they will find each other."
The shaman looped a rope around the couple's wrists, "This is a representation of the cord that binds these two together on the spirit plain. It can never be broken."
Harry glanced behind him and saw the residents of Stepenwolv listening intently. "This ceremony is to acknowledge what the spirit world has already decided in this mortal realm." Texi continued as the shaman spoke. It didn't sound nearly as musical in English.
Harry felt a hand rest on his shoulder and froze. He turned slowly, seeing Ron sitting with Hermione, so it couldn't have been him. Besides, this hand was the hand of a grown man, and heavier.
He twisted around and saw Sirius standing behind him, smiling over Harry's shoulder at his old friend. He looked down at Harry and held his finger to his lips. "We had to come see Moony get married." This was when Harry realized he was living the events of the day over again in his dreams.
"We?" He said in a despairing voice, for a moment having believed he was awake and really had Sirius standing at his side.
Sirius nodded towards the priest, and there Harry saw his father standing beside the old man, but, unlike Sirius, it seemed like he was hardly there at all, merely the shadow of a man.
"Why does he look like that?" Harry said, straining forward, wanting to run to him, but Sirius' hand on his shoulder was like a weight, and he couldn't move even if he tried.
"He's further up and in." Sirius replied. "Be careful Harry," He said heavily, "It's hard for him to be here at all. He will speak with you later."
"But-but!"
There was roar from the crowd and Harry saw Lupin kissing his bride. They took off down the aisle, and Harry could see tears running down his father's face, more substantial than he was.
Harry went through the events of the day one after another, always with Sirius near his side and his father watching from a distance. He once again ate Mingan's artwork of a supper then followed the others as they made their way out onto the lawn where a group of the residents were setting up instruments and starting to play. The lawn had been laid with a gleaming wooden dance floor.
He watched Lupin dance with Tala, gliding across the floor in an intricate waltz. He danced with Hermione, watching her hair glitter in the light of the torches that were placed around the party as it went on into the night. He danced with Texi, her wry comments about his dancing making him laugh and step on her toes. He even glided across the floor with Tala, who told him at least eight times how happy she was he was there. He even danced with a few residents of the Stepenwolv community, mostly young women.
He was moving across the floor, slowly, his feet set into the patterns of the previous day. Ginny was sitting on one of the benches that Hurst had conjured up around the floor. He sat down with a sigh, and she grinned at him.
"Popular tonight, aren't we?"
He couldn't really think of a way to answer that, so he grunted and watched the dance floor, where Texi was moving slowly across the gleaming surface, wrapped in Sarven's arms as they swayed to a slow, mournful tune. He moved his head to look up at Sirius, and saw him watching them too, a calculating look on his face. He caught Harry's glance but didn't say anything.
Ginny was arranging her skirts when Harry looked back down at her. "Shall we?" He said, standing up and offering her his hand. She giggled and allowed him to lead her out on the floor. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he put his hands on her waist, waiting a few beats before catching the rhythm of the song. He looked down at her flushed and pleased face and smiled as they began to dance.
They passed Ron and Hermione a few times as they moved around, he looking a bit clumsy as she guided him around. But when he saw Harry he grinned so happily that Harry had to grin back.
Later, as the music was winding down, and Tainn and a young werewolf Harry couldn't quite remember the name of had stolen Ginny and Hermione for the last dance, he and Ron collapsed on a bench, Ron scowling out over the floor. Tala and Lupin had disappeared a time before.
"Cheer up, Ron." Harry said, "She danced nearly every other dance with you." Ron blushed, looking down. "Have you ever been to a wedding before?" Harry asked him, trying to change the subject.
"Just one," Ron said, "My aunt Genevieve married a muggle. Ceremony was totally different, though."
"I imagine," Harry laughed. Ron grinned at him before fading out of view, and Harry's father sat in his place.
"Son," He said, his voice sounding as though it were coming from a great distance. The only clear things about him were his eyes, which were looking at Harry and filled with pride. "There are so many things I would like to say, but cannot."
"Why, dad?" Harry said, his voice hoarse with tears. "Sirius can talk to me, why can't you?"
James looked at him before saying slowly, "It is different when one falls behind the veil without dying first. A lot of Padfoot is still strongly here, but soon, he too will fade and go further up and in."
"He is right, Harry." Sirius said as he sat down on his other side. "We will have to go soon, but first we have a message to write." He looked down at his godson. "Go get a piece of parchment and ink and your quill, Harry."
Harry was barely aware of his actions as he climbed out of bed and rummaged in his bag, pulling out the items Sirius had requested. He sat down at the desk and waited, still almost completely asleep.
In his dream he was also sitting at the desk, his father and godfather standing at his shoulders. His eyes closed, he began to write.
Harry woke up the next morning feeling very uncomfortable. It took him a few seconds to realize why. He had been sleeping slumped back against the rail-back chair at the desk in his and Ron's room, his quill still held loosely in his hand. He sat up, rubbing his neck and setting the quill down. Turning, he saw Ron gaping at him from his bed, his hair still sticking half up from sleep.
"Must've been some important letter, Mate." He commented, his gaze curious.
"Letter?" Harry said, still stupid from sleep. He turned back around and looked at the desk, where there was piece of parchment covered in neat rows of handwriting. "The message." He said quietly, his eyes widening. He had thought that that was all a dream, but staring up at him from that page... He leapt up before rubbing at his neck again, a groan escaping his lips. Ron watched in astonishment as Harry grabbed his dressing gown, belted in on, snatched the piece of paper from the desk and bolted out the door and down the stairs.
He skidded to a stop in the kitchen, making all present stare at him.
"What's up, boy?" Chepi asked, tightening the cord on her terrycloth bathrobe. He had to catch his breath for a second before he could answer. Just then, Lupin entered the room, looking rather tired. He walked over to the counter and poured himself a cup a coffee before turning. His eyebrow lifted when he saw Harry, panting and leaning against the doorframe.
"Harry?" He asked.
"Message for you, sir." He said rather shakily, holding out the parchment.
"Message?" He nearly dropped the cup, and succeeded in sloshing coffee over the sleeve of his dressing gown. "Is it from Dumbledore?" He asked, rushing forward. "Is everything alright?" Harry handed him the parchment.
Lupin read the first line and his mouth dropped open. He would have sat right down on the floor in astonishment if Hurst hadn't quickly shoved a chair under him. "Harry, where? How?" He asked, his voice choked.
Harry shook his head and held his hands up, showing he didn't understand either. Lupin lowered his head to the parchment, reading each line slowly as though savoring it, tears standing in his eyes. It read:
Mssrs. Prongs and Padfoot would like to express their congratulations to one Mr. Moony on the day of his wedding.
Mr. Prongs welcomes Mr. Moony to married life and wonders how he managed to catch a woman who could put up with his little problem.
Mr. Padfoot would like to inquire whether or not Mr. Prongs is referring to Mr. Moony's morning breath.
Mr. Prongs assures Mr. Padfoot that that is indeed what he is referring to.
Mr. Padfoot agrees with Mr. Prongs about Mr. Moony's breath and would like to add that he is disappointed in Mr. Moony for giving up the bachelor life for the old 'ball and chain.'
Mr. Prongs would like to remind Mr. Padfoot that he also once considered gaining his own ball and chain.
Mr. Padfoot would ask that Mr. Prongs never bring that up again.
Mr. Prongs apologizes to Mr. Padfoot and reminds him that they are supposed to talking to Mr. Moony.
Mr. Padfoot gets back to business with reassuring Mr. Moony that any woman who would put up with his breath is worth keeping.
Mr. Prongs adds that Mrs. Moony is much to pretty for Mr. Moony and he wonders what sort of blackmail he used to get her to marry him.
Mr. Padfoot is reminded of a time Mr. Moony managed to get a picture of one Snivellus snogging one Miss Chatterhall, and used it to get Snivellus to do his Potions homework for two months.
Mr. Prongs also recalls the incident, but reminds Mr. Padfoot that he, and not Mr. Moony, was responsible for the blackmailing in question.
Mr. Prongs is corrected and admits that Mr. Moony may have been able to get Mrs. Moony on his own merits, whatever they are.
Mr. Padfoot assures Mr. Prongs that Mr. Moony has many merits, and that Mr. Prongs is just jealous that Mr. Moony has more than he.
Mr. Prongs would draw up a list to point out the fallacies in that statement, but he doesn't wish to make the effort.
Mr. Padfoot adds industriousness to Mr. Moony's list of good points.
Mr. Prongs would like to note that Mrs. Prongs likes him just the way he is. Mr. Prongs also notes that he is very happy for Mr. and Mrs. Moony, and thanks them for looking after Prongs Jr.
Mr. Padfoot also thanks Mr. Moony for this, and for being a good friend to he and Mr. Prongs.
Mr. Padfoot notes that Mr. Moony once promised to name his firstborn son after Mssrs. Padfoot and Prongs.
Mr. Prongs shudders at the thought of little Moony Jrs running around, certain that they will inherit their father's morning breath.
Mr. Padfoot wishes Mr. Moony good luck from he and Mr. Prongs. He tells Mr. Moony to be well and happy, and treat Tala right, and he assures Mr. Moony that they both miss him very much.
Mr. Prongs adds that Mrs. Prongs sends her love.
Lupin looked up at Harry, his hands trembling on the parchment. He wiped his eyes on his sleeve before he could talk. "Thank you, Harry. This is the best gift anyone could have given me, but for Tala." He folded the parchment carefully and put it in his pocket, "Oh, and Harry?" He said, pausing.
"Yes, professor?" He asked.
"Why don't you call me Remus," He suggested, "No need to be so formal."
"Okay, Remus." Harry said, and his former professor left the room.
Hermione, who had been looking over Remus' shoulder as he read, looked over at Harry and asked, in a hushed voice. "How did you do it, Harry?"
"What do you mean?" He asked, confused.
"Honestly, Harry! That wasn't even your handwriting, neither of them were!" She snapped at him, "I've checked over your papers enough to know your handwriting when I see it."
Harry looked down, unable to answer for a moment. "Th-they wanted him to know that they were thinking of him."
Hermione stared at him. "How..."
He looked in her eyes, and she looked down, unable to hold his gaze. "They just...did." He said firmly, looking around and daring anyone else to ask him questions as he ate the bowl of oatmeal that Mingan had set before him.
Please review.
Chapter 11: Message for Moony
Harry stood at Lupin's shoulder, smiling as his Professor took Tala's hands. She was beaming radiantly, her soft, ice blue gown trailing behind her on the verdant grass. Her hair and the beaded fringe of her belt swung in the crisp breeze. They both turned to the officiate, an ancient Native American wizard who was so bent that it appeared he was bowing. He wore a colorful feathered cape on his shoulders, which fluttered as he raised his hands and began to chant.
Harry couldn't understand the words, but apparently Tala could, nodding at appropriate times, and nudging Lupin to tell him when he should also agree. He would grin and nod, his eyes locked on the woman before him.
Harry could see Texi behind Tala, dressed in a long buckskin robe, intricately beaded. She noticed his glance and smiled, starting up a running translation of the old Shaman's words. He was beginning to think he should have paid more attention to his Legillimency and Occlumency lessons, it appeared to have more uses than he had expected.
"As the wheel turns and turns again," Her voice said silently in his mind, "We find and lose and find again. And join the cycle with those who we are meant to know. This wheel is not just here in this physical world, but continues spinning in the afterlife, onwards and upwards. And we know that no one is ever lost to its spokes. Weaving the tapestry of life, the wheel can bind people together and pull their threads from the picture. And when it decides to bring two people together, even though they are worlds apart, they will find each other."
The shaman looped a rope around the couple's wrists, "This is a representation of the cord that binds these two together on the spirit plain. It can never be broken."
Harry glanced behind him and saw the residents of Stepenwolv listening intently. "This ceremony is to acknowledge what the spirit world has already decided in this mortal realm." Texi continued as the shaman spoke. It didn't sound nearly as musical in English.
Harry felt a hand rest on his shoulder and froze. He turned slowly, seeing Ron sitting with Hermione, so it couldn't have been him. Besides, this hand was the hand of a grown man, and heavier.
He twisted around and saw Sirius standing behind him, smiling over Harry's shoulder at his old friend. He looked down at Harry and held his finger to his lips. "We had to come see Moony get married." This was when Harry realized he was living the events of the day over again in his dreams.
"We?" He said in a despairing voice, for a moment having believed he was awake and really had Sirius standing at his side.
Sirius nodded towards the priest, and there Harry saw his father standing beside the old man, but, unlike Sirius, it seemed like he was hardly there at all, merely the shadow of a man.
"Why does he look like that?" Harry said, straining forward, wanting to run to him, but Sirius' hand on his shoulder was like a weight, and he couldn't move even if he tried.
"He's further up and in." Sirius replied. "Be careful Harry," He said heavily, "It's hard for him to be here at all. He will speak with you later."
"But-but!"
There was roar from the crowd and Harry saw Lupin kissing his bride. They took off down the aisle, and Harry could see tears running down his father's face, more substantial than he was.
Harry went through the events of the day one after another, always with Sirius near his side and his father watching from a distance. He once again ate Mingan's artwork of a supper then followed the others as they made their way out onto the lawn where a group of the residents were setting up instruments and starting to play. The lawn had been laid with a gleaming wooden dance floor.
He watched Lupin dance with Tala, gliding across the floor in an intricate waltz. He danced with Hermione, watching her hair glitter in the light of the torches that were placed around the party as it went on into the night. He danced with Texi, her wry comments about his dancing making him laugh and step on her toes. He even glided across the floor with Tala, who told him at least eight times how happy she was he was there. He even danced with a few residents of the Stepenwolv community, mostly young women.
He was moving across the floor, slowly, his feet set into the patterns of the previous day. Ginny was sitting on one of the benches that Hurst had conjured up around the floor. He sat down with a sigh, and she grinned at him.
"Popular tonight, aren't we?"
He couldn't really think of a way to answer that, so he grunted and watched the dance floor, where Texi was moving slowly across the gleaming surface, wrapped in Sarven's arms as they swayed to a slow, mournful tune. He moved his head to look up at Sirius, and saw him watching them too, a calculating look on his face. He caught Harry's glance but didn't say anything.
Ginny was arranging her skirts when Harry looked back down at her. "Shall we?" He said, standing up and offering her his hand. She giggled and allowed him to lead her out on the floor. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he put his hands on her waist, waiting a few beats before catching the rhythm of the song. He looked down at her flushed and pleased face and smiled as they began to dance.
They passed Ron and Hermione a few times as they moved around, he looking a bit clumsy as she guided him around. But when he saw Harry he grinned so happily that Harry had to grin back.
Later, as the music was winding down, and Tainn and a young werewolf Harry couldn't quite remember the name of had stolen Ginny and Hermione for the last dance, he and Ron collapsed on a bench, Ron scowling out over the floor. Tala and Lupin had disappeared a time before.
"Cheer up, Ron." Harry said, "She danced nearly every other dance with you." Ron blushed, looking down. "Have you ever been to a wedding before?" Harry asked him, trying to change the subject.
"Just one," Ron said, "My aunt Genevieve married a muggle. Ceremony was totally different, though."
"I imagine," Harry laughed. Ron grinned at him before fading out of view, and Harry's father sat in his place.
"Son," He said, his voice sounding as though it were coming from a great distance. The only clear things about him were his eyes, which were looking at Harry and filled with pride. "There are so many things I would like to say, but cannot."
"Why, dad?" Harry said, his voice hoarse with tears. "Sirius can talk to me, why can't you?"
James looked at him before saying slowly, "It is different when one falls behind the veil without dying first. A lot of Padfoot is still strongly here, but soon, he too will fade and go further up and in."
"He is right, Harry." Sirius said as he sat down on his other side. "We will have to go soon, but first we have a message to write." He looked down at his godson. "Go get a piece of parchment and ink and your quill, Harry."
Harry was barely aware of his actions as he climbed out of bed and rummaged in his bag, pulling out the items Sirius had requested. He sat down at the desk and waited, still almost completely asleep.
In his dream he was also sitting at the desk, his father and godfather standing at his shoulders. His eyes closed, he began to write.
Harry woke up the next morning feeling very uncomfortable. It took him a few seconds to realize why. He had been sleeping slumped back against the rail-back chair at the desk in his and Ron's room, his quill still held loosely in his hand. He sat up, rubbing his neck and setting the quill down. Turning, he saw Ron gaping at him from his bed, his hair still sticking half up from sleep.
"Must've been some important letter, Mate." He commented, his gaze curious.
"Letter?" Harry said, still stupid from sleep. He turned back around and looked at the desk, where there was piece of parchment covered in neat rows of handwriting. "The message." He said quietly, his eyes widening. He had thought that that was all a dream, but staring up at him from that page... He leapt up before rubbing at his neck again, a groan escaping his lips. Ron watched in astonishment as Harry grabbed his dressing gown, belted in on, snatched the piece of paper from the desk and bolted out the door and down the stairs.
He skidded to a stop in the kitchen, making all present stare at him.
"What's up, boy?" Chepi asked, tightening the cord on her terrycloth bathrobe. He had to catch his breath for a second before he could answer. Just then, Lupin entered the room, looking rather tired. He walked over to the counter and poured himself a cup a coffee before turning. His eyebrow lifted when he saw Harry, panting and leaning against the doorframe.
"Harry?" He asked.
"Message for you, sir." He said rather shakily, holding out the parchment.
"Message?" He nearly dropped the cup, and succeeded in sloshing coffee over the sleeve of his dressing gown. "Is it from Dumbledore?" He asked, rushing forward. "Is everything alright?" Harry handed him the parchment.
Lupin read the first line and his mouth dropped open. He would have sat right down on the floor in astonishment if Hurst hadn't quickly shoved a chair under him. "Harry, where? How?" He asked, his voice choked.
Harry shook his head and held his hands up, showing he didn't understand either. Lupin lowered his head to the parchment, reading each line slowly as though savoring it, tears standing in his eyes. It read:
Mssrs. Prongs and Padfoot would like to express their congratulations to one Mr. Moony on the day of his wedding.
Mr. Prongs welcomes Mr. Moony to married life and wonders how he managed to catch a woman who could put up with his little problem.
Mr. Padfoot would like to inquire whether or not Mr. Prongs is referring to Mr. Moony's morning breath.
Mr. Prongs assures Mr. Padfoot that that is indeed what he is referring to.
Mr. Padfoot agrees with Mr. Prongs about Mr. Moony's breath and would like to add that he is disappointed in Mr. Moony for giving up the bachelor life for the old 'ball and chain.'
Mr. Prongs would like to remind Mr. Padfoot that he also once considered gaining his own ball and chain.
Mr. Padfoot would ask that Mr. Prongs never bring that up again.
Mr. Prongs apologizes to Mr. Padfoot and reminds him that they are supposed to talking to Mr. Moony.
Mr. Padfoot gets back to business with reassuring Mr. Moony that any woman who would put up with his breath is worth keeping.
Mr. Prongs adds that Mrs. Moony is much to pretty for Mr. Moony and he wonders what sort of blackmail he used to get her to marry him.
Mr. Padfoot is reminded of a time Mr. Moony managed to get a picture of one Snivellus snogging one Miss Chatterhall, and used it to get Snivellus to do his Potions homework for two months.
Mr. Prongs also recalls the incident, but reminds Mr. Padfoot that he, and not Mr. Moony, was responsible for the blackmailing in question.
Mr. Prongs is corrected and admits that Mr. Moony may have been able to get Mrs. Moony on his own merits, whatever they are.
Mr. Padfoot assures Mr. Prongs that Mr. Moony has many merits, and that Mr. Prongs is just jealous that Mr. Moony has more than he.
Mr. Prongs would draw up a list to point out the fallacies in that statement, but he doesn't wish to make the effort.
Mr. Padfoot adds industriousness to Mr. Moony's list of good points.
Mr. Prongs would like to note that Mrs. Prongs likes him just the way he is. Mr. Prongs also notes that he is very happy for Mr. and Mrs. Moony, and thanks them for looking after Prongs Jr.
Mr. Padfoot also thanks Mr. Moony for this, and for being a good friend to he and Mr. Prongs.
Mr. Padfoot notes that Mr. Moony once promised to name his firstborn son after Mssrs. Padfoot and Prongs.
Mr. Prongs shudders at the thought of little Moony Jrs running around, certain that they will inherit their father's morning breath.
Mr. Padfoot wishes Mr. Moony good luck from he and Mr. Prongs. He tells Mr. Moony to be well and happy, and treat Tala right, and he assures Mr. Moony that they both miss him very much.
Mr. Prongs adds that Mrs. Prongs sends her love.
Lupin looked up at Harry, his hands trembling on the parchment. He wiped his eyes on his sleeve before he could talk. "Thank you, Harry. This is the best gift anyone could have given me, but for Tala." He folded the parchment carefully and put it in his pocket, "Oh, and Harry?" He said, pausing.
"Yes, professor?" He asked.
"Why don't you call me Remus," He suggested, "No need to be so formal."
"Okay, Remus." Harry said, and his former professor left the room.
Hermione, who had been looking over Remus' shoulder as he read, looked over at Harry and asked, in a hushed voice. "How did you do it, Harry?"
"What do you mean?" He asked, confused.
"Honestly, Harry! That wasn't even your handwriting, neither of them were!" She snapped at him, "I've checked over your papers enough to know your handwriting when I see it."
Harry looked down, unable to answer for a moment. "Th-they wanted him to know that they were thinking of him."
Hermione stared at him. "How..."
He looked in her eyes, and she looked down, unable to hold his gaze. "They just...did." He said firmly, looking around and daring anyone else to ask him questions as he ate the bowl of oatmeal that Mingan had set before him.
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