To Howl in Harmony

Chapter 1: Not-So-Dead Relatives

On 1st December 1996, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Albus Dumbledore called a mandatory dinner.

Headmaster Dumbledore had long been a symbol of faith and hope. An unbeatable, infallible man who was not –could not be- old. However, since the beginning of June, and the summer break-when seven of his students had been captured by the feared Lord Voldemort- the Headmaster had been looking his age (a whopping 122). The usual twinkle that had been a constant for years was now dulled, only showing up on the rare occasion. However, since about mid- August, the twinkle had begun returning just a little more.

As soon as the hall was filled, Dumbledore declared, "We- that is to say the professors, prefects and I- have a wonderfully surprising treat for all of you."

Speculative whispers swept through the Hall. Dumbledore let it for a moment, the youthful exuberance and gossip giving the twinkle a brighter-than-usual quality. After almost 5 minutes, however, he called a halt to it.

"Alright, alright!" he called jovially, "Don't you want to know what the treat really is?" the silence fell immediately and Dumbledore's twinkle grew, "This December 23rd, Hogwarts will be hosting…a Christmas ball."

The response was instantaneous. Girls gave squeals of delight and threw their crushes blushing glances while the boys groaned, paling visibly, all the while cursing the ball's organizers.

Dumbledore chuckled slightly at the youths before recalling order. "Now, if some of you wish to attend the ball as well as go home for the holidays, the Hogwarts Express will be operating on the 24th. It will be fourth year students and above only, but a party for the younger children is to be held in each common room at the same time as the Ball."

Happy chatter filled the room and, with a contented smile, Dumbledore reseated himself. However, involuntarily, his eyes lighted upon the 5 empty Gryffindor seats, then the 1 Ravenclaw and then the Slytherin one.

Dumbledore sighed and gave a somewhat rueful smile. Seven of his children had been missing for some time now. And, it frustrated and saddened him to know he couldn't find them, having already put all the resources he had to it.

Dumbledore's eyes then traveled to the three new members of his staff. As always, the Defense position had had to be filled, and Madame Hooch and the Ancient Runes teacher-Professor Vector- had both decided to retire that year, leaving open two more positions to be filled. And this year's replacements were…interesting to say the least.

Dumbledore suddenly sat straight up in the chair, his wards having alerted him to the doors of the Entrance Hall opening. The –very muffled- sounds of more than one pair of footsteps had him instantly up on his feet with his wand trained on the door.

In a tense voice, he called out, "Third year and below to the far side of the hall, down below the Slytherin table. I want the rest of the years in front of them. Teachers, around in front of them. No spells unless I say."

The orders were filled out immediately and a tense silence fell upon the room as they all bored holes into the door. The sound of footsteps outside the doors had every wand raised and trained upon the doors as they slowly pushed inwards.

Nine people walked in, which meant they couldn't have been Death Eaters, as Voldemort went for numbers over skill. The expressions on their faces said they were clearly amused by the angry force that greeted them.

The young man who was obviously the leader stood slightly ahead of the others, with a young woman on one side and an older man on the other. He was tall, roughly 6 feet, and he carried about him a sense of authority and confidence, and power, though no arrogance. He held himself proudly, taking deep confident strides and holding his head high. Short black hair, tipped with pink, fell casually about his head and forehead and over one, dark-sunglass-covered eye. He wore a pair of tight, silky, black pants that stretched attractively across muscular legs and a tight, light chocolate-y-coloured T-shirt. A black, hooded wool cloak rested across his shoulders, clasped at his throat with a silver, howling wolf clasp.

The young woman at his side was also tall, at about 5"10. She was slender and willowy, but muscular, like her companions. She carried herself with dignity and grace, her head held high. Auburn hair, streaked through with pink, fell in soft waves to her shoulders and pink-tinted glasses that rested on a lightly freckled nose covered chocolate brown eyes. Silky black pants stretched across muscular thighs and an emerald green sleeveless with "Honeylove" written in black covered her slim upper torso. A matching cloak covered her shoulders with the same wolf clasp at the throat.

The older man was roughly 5"9, but held himself with a quiet dignity. Slightly long, sandy-blonde hair spattered with gray (some premature, some not so premature) lay attractively across his head. Intelligent amethyst had forgone the dark sunglasses that were instead pushed back on his head. He, too, wore loose black pants, with a soft gray T-shirt. He also wore the black wool cloak pinned at the throat by a wolf clasp, 'though his was gold instead of silver.

Standing behind and slightly to the left of the older man was another younger couple. The young man was taller than his leader, standing about 6"3 and well-filled out. He held himself with a misconceiving laziness, 'though soft blue eyes, hidden behind dark glasses, took in everything calculatingly. His hair was the same auburn-red colour as the first young woman's, but slightly darker and tipped instead with dark purple. He, too, was dressed in the attractively-form-fitting black pants that the others wore, as well as a deep, coffee brown shirt. Overtop, he wore the wolf-pinned black cloak.

The woman beside him was roughly the same height as the first. She held herself erect, back straight and chin tilted with defiance built form years of teasing. Soft brown hair streaked through with dark purple fell in a tumble of waves and curls to just below her shoulders, and her coffee brown eyes-shaded by purple-tinted glasses- were bright with intelligence. The silky black pants stretched provocatively over her hips and legs and a sky blue shirt stretched across her upper body. In black print, the shirt read, "My own". She, also, wore the hooded black cloak with fixed at the throat with the silver wolf.

To the right and slightly behind the woman were another young couple and another behind them. The male counterpart of the first couple was a good 6"2. He had an air of masculine confidence about him, but with a hint of gentleness. His black hair was shoulder-length and pulled back into a low ponytail, with streaks of blood red in it. Dark glasses covered his eyes, resting on a slightly angular face. His hands had dirt and colour stains, but he didn't even seem to notice, let alone care. The black pants hugged his hips and upper thighs but loosened out from just above his kneecaps and a misty blue shirt, slightly covered by the black cloak, covered his upper torso.

His female counterpart was much shorter than the others, standing no more than 5"6. A claming sense of serenity surrounded her and she seemed to be somewhat dazed, 'though it was only a façade. Straight, wispy blonde hair with blood red streaks fell to her waist like an odd sort of halo. Misty blue eyes gazed out from behind red-tinted glasses, staring disinterestedly at the pointed wands. The silk pants clung to dainty legs that were stronger than they looked and a midnight blue shirt stretched across her upper body, reading "Moon Goddess" in black as well as the cloak.

The final male was also 6 feet tall. An air of trusting gentleness enveloped him, making him seem quite trustworthy. Shaggy, sun-bleached blonde hair fell slightly down his neck, stopping about mid-way and was streaked through with sky blue. Sharp, smoky gray eyes were covered by dark sunglasses that rested on an aristocratic face devoid of haughtiness and snobbery. The black pants were form fitting and the sea-green shirt revealed a muscular upper torso. The black cloak with silver wolf clasp partially covered his body.

The final female was about 5"8. Midnight blue hair fell to her shoulders in slight disarray, the sky blue eyes standing out prominently. She carried herself with a firm confidence that was not haughty in the least. Blue-tinted glasses shaded sea-green eyes, sharp with intelligence but twinkling with laughter. The silky pants molded perfectly to her legs without being overly provocative, and a smoky gray shirt, with "Blue" written in black, stretched nicely across her chest and muscular arms. The black cloak rested on her shoulders, clasped with the silver wolf.

Despite the almost-blizzard outside, however, not one of them seemed to have any snow-in any shape or form- on them. However, these observations were only allowed a few moments before Dumbledore's firm voice broke the silence.

"Who are you? And what do you want from our school?" he demanded.

To his left, stood Minerva McGonagall, chin tilted in defiance and ready to take on anything for her students. On his other side stood Severus Snape, who, despite his reputation and callous attitude, would not let a thing happen to the students in his care as long as he still breathed. The other professors stood further back, in the crowd of students.

"We," the leader said, voice laced with amusement, "are the Pack. Why we're here should be quite obvious to you- we don't want to sit back and let guys have all the fun!"

At the 3 professors' blank looks, the leader laughingly queried, "Maybe we should properly introduce ourselves, no?"

"Draconius Septimus Malfoy," bowed the young blonde man.

"Rosemary Elleanore Richards" the young woman at his side said proudly.

"Neville Francis Longbottom," he said mischief and laughter dancing in his eyes.

"Luna Mary-Anne Lovegood," the blonde said softly, bowing slightly.

"Ronald Steven Weasley," the redhead grinned, taking off his glasses and bowing as the others had.

"Hermione Athena Granger," she said slightly defensively, as 'though daring anyone to disbelieve her, 'though none did.

"Remus Johnathon Lupin," the older man declared jovially eyes dancing with the mischief they'd been missing for years.

"Ginevra Molly Weasley," Ginny declared proudly, giving the professors only the slightest of bows.

With a rakish grin, the "leader" pulled off his sunglasses, revealing emerald green orbs dancing with mischief, and brushing the bangs from his forehead to reveal his lightning bolt shaped scar at the same time as he laughingly introduced himself, "Harry James Potter. 'Though I am disappointed, Professors, that you'd have forgotten me already. You'd think I'd have made an impression after 5 years!"

"Harry, my boy!" Dumbledore exclaimed happily, wand lowering as he stepped from the dais.

Harry grinned at his surrogate grandfather/mentor/hero. Affectionately, he pulled the older man into a hug, which was returned after a moment's hesitation.

Pulling back, both men had tears in their eyes. Quickly, it turned to laughter at their shared reaction.

McGonagall stepped forward then, as Dumbledore moved on to greet the others, tearfully saying, "I'd thought you were finally gone, Potter."

Harry grinned crookedly at his ex-professor, saying, "No-go, Professor. I'm afraid you'll have to put up with me a little longer yet."

"I think I'll live," McGonagall said, pulling Harry into a fierce hug, which was wholeheartedly returned.

As they pulled back, Harry kissed her wrinkled cheek, saying softly, "Thank you, Professor."

"Anytime dear," she replied with a soft smile before moving onto the others, Snape taking her place.

"It's good to have you back Potter," Snape said simply, holding out a hand.

Harry shook it firmly, answering, "It's good to be back, Professor."

A frantic male voice rose suddenly over the noise that had started at the Pack's names. Harry stilled, eyes gone wide and face paled. At his side, Remus, too, stilled. But it was absurd! That voice couldn't be real-he was dead!

Simultaneously, Harry and Remus whirled around. Standing just before the crowd was a tall, black-haired man with Grey eyes-Sirius!

"Harry," he choked tearfully, "Moony."

Instantaneously, all three men were running. They collided in the middle, falling to a sobbing, laughing, hugging mess on the floor. The 3 grabbed hold of each other, holding tight to be sure that this was reality and not just another dream.

When they finally pulled away, Harry demanded, "How? We saw you go through!"

"The Guardians of the Veil decided it wasn't my time to go," Sirius gave an irritated shake of his head as he added, "Took their damn bloody time to decide that too!"

Remus gave a choked up laugh before suddenly asking, "But what are you doing in the open?"

"He was cleared, remember?" Harry spoke up, "Professor Dumbledore owled us. Some wizard caught a picture of lovely ol' Wormtail and he sent it in to the Prophet so everyone found out the truth."

"How could you forget?" Ginny asked dryly from above them, "That was the day Harry demolished our room."

Harry childishly stuck his tongue out at his mate, and, impishly, she said, "You'd better watch out darling, I might just bite that off."

Harry grinned devilishly back, answering, "Oh, I don't think so, honeylove, you like my tongue too much."

Ginny turned red in embarrassment as she yelled, "Harry James Potter! You crude arse!"

Harry smiled innocently up at her, saying, "Yes I am, honeylove, but you love me anyway."

"And the Lord only knows why," she teased back.

Harry growled playfully at her, tugging her onto his lap as he possessively declared, "Mine!"

Ginny giggled, but the happy moment was interrupted by a vaguely familiar voice brokenly asking, "Is that him Albus? Is that our baby boy?"

Frowningly, Harry turned his head to see the speaker. She and a man were now standing with Dumbledore.

The woman was a petite redhead with a pale complexion. Her beautiful, emerald green eyes stared at Harry with shock.

The man beside her was tall, 6" at least. He had messy, jet-black hair that lay untamable-y about his head and forehead and blue eyes that were gazing at Harry in a mix of love and shock.

A choking sound escaped Harry as he gazed back at the couple, his eyes widened with shock. It couldn't be-it just couldn't be.

But Harry knew better. It had to be real-they had to be real! Otherwise they wouldn't be in Hogwarts-Dumbledore wouldn't let them.

Hoarsely, Harry whispered, "M-Mum? Dad?"

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HELLO MY LOVELY PEOPLE! Sorry it took so long-I DO have life ya know, despite what my brother keeps telling people. I'll update soon as I can-which might be a while between packing, work and school EEP!- so buh bye!

'My Love

Red