Chapter 6: Growing Up.
Hermione woke up groggily.
Today feels different, somehow . . .
She looked at the date on her watch and sat up. Oh. Right. My birthday.
Happy negative third birthday to me.
Hermione got out of bed and changed quietly; she felt like just sitting in the common room for a while. This was her first birthday in a new time, surrounded by familiar yet new faces.
And nothing waiting for me from my parents . . .
She walked down the stairs into the common room—and stopped short when she saw Danger already waiting there.
"Happy birthday, Hermione," said the latter with a half-smile.
"Thanks, Danger. It's just . . ." she looked around the common room to make sure no other early risers could overhear ". . . hard, this being my first birthday away from everyone I know, with nothing sent by my parents . . ."
"I know, Hermione. I feel the same way, trust me." Hermione immediately felt stupid. Of course Danger understands how I feel! They were her parents too! "Here, take this," offered Danger, handing Hermione a ring. "May the future bring you—bring all of us—ample joy to offset past troubles."
Hermione looked at the ring and gasped. "Danger— this— this is my dad's wedding ring. Where did you get it?"
Danger's face took on a wistful, sad expression. "Off his finger, the day it happened. Mum's, too. I've been keeping them as . . . well, something to remind me what I'm fighting for. And then I realized today was your birthday, and they're your parents as much as mine . . . anyway, I want you to keep Dad's ring. If you want it."
Hermione smiled widely, tears in her eyes. "Of course I want it," she said, conjuring a light chain like the one she saw around Danger's neck to put it on. "Thank you, Danger, so, so much."
The two sisters hugged in remembrance of all they had lost—of all for which they fought.
The next few weeks passed uneventfully. James and Sirius still refused to forgive Harry for his "intrusion" and still treated D.A. with quiet disdain, but at least they had stopped attempts to prank him. (Walking around all day with his arch-enemy's most distinguishing characteristics had not suited James Potter well.)
A growing rift was developing between the Marauders. Remus and Peter spent time with the time-travellers and their respective girlfriends, worked diligently in classes, looked forward to D.A. meetings, and generally acted responsibly. James and Sirius were utterly opposite. They continued to maintain that Harry was a Dark spy who had somehow hoodwinked their erstwhile friends into betraying them, and they filled their time with (admittedly quite funny) pranks.
During these three weeks, James asked Lily out twelve times—none of which were successful, of course—and was in detention almost every day.
On October 6, Sirius was feeling particularly rebellious. Those dratted new kids have been here for over a MONTH, and they still hate our Marauding! It was a hard pill to swallow. The Marauders' popularity, directed especially in the form of giggling girls at Sirius and James, had been boosting their already overinflated egos to staggering heights over the past few years, and now five clearly talented new students had arrived, treated them with relatively open disdain from the very first day—as if they had the right—and now Remus and Peter were hanging out with them!
I need to do something about the new kids. This has gone on long enough.
As if to provide Sirius a momentary bit of fun, Harry Potter chose that moment to walk by the sofa on which he was sitting. He subtly stuck his foot out just as Harry passed, and the messy-haired boy tripped over it. "Hey, Potter! Watch where you're going!"
Harry stood up and leveled a glare in return, twinged with disappointment and . . . was that sadness? Why would Potter even care how we act? He didn't say anything, just kept walking, straight out of the common room and down to breakfast.
Sirius looked down at the carpeted floor. Never fails. Any time Prongs or I try to get Potter in a confrontation or something, he just walks away. Doesn't he care? It was mystifying to Sirius that anyone might not respond forcefully when challenged.
And then he saw the locket.
It had landed on the floor, face up, chain splayed out behind it. It seemed at first to be rather plain, the sort of thing Sirius would expect any well-off pureblood to own a dozen of . . . and rather familiar, too, almost as if he had seen it before.
Except for that scrap of parchment sticking out of it. Curiosity piqued, Sirius picked up the locket, opened it, unfolded the crumpled parchment inside, and read it.
To the Dark Lord,
I know I will be dead long
before you read this,
but I want you to know that it was I who
discovered your secret.
I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend
to destroy it as soon as I can.
I face death in the hope that
when you meet your match,
you will be mortal once more.
R.A.B.
Score one for my suspicions . . .
"Prongs! Come here!"
James Potter snapped out of his staring at Lily and walked over to sit down next to Sirius. "What is it, Padfoot?"
"Potter had a locket in his pocket with this in it. It fell out. Read it."
James's eyes scanned the paper, his frown growing deeper as he read. "This does not look good."
"No," agreed Sirius, "it doesn't. It looks like Potter is Dark after all. You know how my family is, and I know even we don't have any books about Horcruxes. I heard my parents talking about it once."
"And the 'Dark Lord'. . . I've only ever heard Death Eaters call You-Know-Who that."
"Not to mention it's in my brother's handwriting!"
"What?" said James incredulously.
"Yeah, this is definitely Reggie's writing. His middle name is Alphard."
"So the question becomes, why does Potter have this in his pocket?"
"Who knows?" Sirius shrugged. "Maybe he's planning to send it to You-Know-Who. Maybe he's looking for the guy who wrote it. Whatever it is, it's definitely incriminating evidence. I'll confront him about it later today."
"Thanks, Padfoot."
Harry climbed in through the portrait hole after classes.
"Potter," said Sirius sharply, angrily.
Harry was mystified. What had he done to cause this reaction? Sure, the Marauders had been gits toward him ever since his arrival, but this went beyond that. "Yes, Sirius?"
"This—" he held up the locket— "fell out of your pocket this morning."
"When you tripped me?"
Sirius continued as if he hadn't heard. "I read the note inside. It doesn't look good for you. I've been saying you're Dark for weeks, Potter, and this proves it!" He held up the crumpled parchment triumphantly.
Harry frowned. "No, Sirius, it doesn't. I'm definitely not Dark, and you really don't understand the context behind that note."
"I understand enough. It mentions Horcruxes, the 'Dark Lord', and it's in my brother's handwriting!" he burst out angrily.
"Your brother?" Harry was dumbfounded. "R.A.B. is Regulus?" He hit himself on the forehead. "I can't believe I missed that!" He turned and fixed Sirius with a piercing stare. "Now, please give me back that locket."
Sirius grinned. "No, I don't think so. 'I'll be giving this—" he held up the locket again— "to Professor Dumbledore, along with an explanation of the situation.' Doesn't feel so good when it's you, does it?"
Harry just shook his head. "Merlin, Sirius, you really don't get it, do you? Go ahead, give Dumbledore the locket. I'm sure he'll just give it right back to me."
"You wish," muttered Sirius as he left the common room.
"Tootsie Pop!"
The gargoyle moved, revealing the staircase to the Headmaster's office. Professor McGonagall walked up the steps briskly, Sirius in tow. She knocked.
"Come in, Minerva, Mr. Black," came Professor Dumbledore's voice from behind the door.
McGonagall opened the door and ushered him in. "Albus," she said, "Mr. Black came to me this evening with what he claims is evidence that Harry Potter is involved in the Dark Arts. I don't really understand it, and he insisted upon seeing you, so here we are."
"Thank you, Minerva," said Dumbledore serenely. "I shall handle this from here." McGonagall turned and left as briskly as she had come, leaving Sirius standing in front of the Headmaster's desk.
"Now, Mr. Black, what is this 'evidence' you speak of?"
"This locket," said Sirius triumphantly, holding it up. "It had a note inside mentioning Horcruxes—I don't know anything about them, but I know they're so Dark my own family doesn't have any books on the subject, which says a lot—and referring to Voldemort as the 'Dark Lord'. Also, it's in my brother's handwriting, and signed 'R.A.B.'—his initials."
Dumbledore shook his head sadly. "Mr. Black, I am quite sure you have overreacted in this case." He prodded the Pensieve on his desk, and an image of the same piece of parchment rose out of it. "This is the note you saw, correct?"
Sirius gaped at him. "Yeah, it is. How do you know about it, anyway?"
"Harry showed it to me," said Dumbledore calmly. "But that does not concern you anyhow. What I would like to know is this: Why, upon reading this message, which I am sure you did not understand in the least, did you immediately jump to the worst possible conclusion about it?"
"It just seemed suspicious, Professor. Normal students don't walk around with notes in their pockets about You-Know-Who's secrets, and it mentioned Horcruxes . . . it just seemed too much to be a coincidence."
"Coincidence it was not, Mr. Black, but neither was it in any way incriminating." Dumbledore's gaze was distinctly stern. "Do you remember what the note's creator wrote about his actions?"
"Yeah . . . he was trying to weaken You-Know-Who—"
"And you somehow 'knew' Harry was in possession of this note because he was in league with Voldemort, and not because he was working against him and wanted to know about others who had done so?"
"Um . . ."
"Indeed, Mr. Black. Please do not be so overzealous in the future. I will trust you to give this back to Harry. Rest assured, I will know that it has been done." Dumbledore nodded slowly in a clear dismissal.
Sirius didn't leave, though. "But sir, don't you think there's something suspicious about Potter?"
Dumbledore sighed. "Mr. Black, I have said it before and I will say it again. There is nothing unsavoury about Harry or his goals. He is involved in much of which you can have no idea, but that does not make him evil," he said firmly.
"Er . . . okay, Professor. Thank you." He turned and left.
So Dumbledore somehow 'knows' he's not evil. That doesn't mean anything. He's said the same thing about Snape.
I'll give Harry back his bloody locket, I guess. But I'm not going to forgive him.
Danger fell asleep almost instantly that night. She had had an odd feeling as she got in bed, but thought nothing of it . . .
Until, that is, she woke up in the middle of the night, with bad iambic tetrameter once again drumming through her head.
She groped in the darkness for a quill and parchment, and set the words in her head to paper. She barely even remembered what she wrote; there would be time enough to look it over in the morning.
As Danger drifted off once again to sleep, the light of the moon, a day away from full, filtered in through her dormitory window and illumintated the words she had messily scrawled in the darkness . . .
"Prepare you now for coming night,
On which the
star will set alight
A raven's quest, for to enthral
He
who a foe-turned friend you call.
Seek not his shame; your
words do naught
But fuel that which must be forgot.
Instead, lie low, in sight unseen,
Allow the stag
to intervene,
Let wolf find wolf of darkness bright,
And
with your touch, forfend his plight.
Then he shall see that
which you knew,
And find his way to future true."
Sirius walked away from dinner, frowning in remembrance of his Defense class that day. Professor Johnson was probably the worst teacher he had ever had at Hogwarts. Maybe Potter did have the right idea with his Defense club.
No way. Knowing him, it's even more of a joke than class is. I don't need anything Potter's running.
Then he saw Snape, stalking down the corridor ahead of him. That's Snivellus, walking around like an overgrown bat . . . and with a wave of his wand and a whispered incantation, Severus Snape had bat ears. He didn't seem to notice.
Suddenly, the now even more bat-looking Snape whirled around. "Black," he snarled. "Expelliarmus! Petrificus Totalus!" His voice changed to a drawl. "So nice to see you in this position."
Snivellus caught me, thought Sirius with a mental curse. He would have dearly loved to curse him into oblivion, but from his current position, lying frozen on the floor, he could do little more than widen his eyes in apparent surprise.
"Ah, yes. I certainly am enjoying this. Turnabout is fair play, is it not?"
Sirius's eyes narrowed, and he tried to open his mouth to make an indignant retort, but there wasn't anything he could do. And it seemed Snape knew that quite well. The git! What's he playing at, attacking me like this?
"I know you and your friends," he spat the word, "are up to something, Black. Allow me to count the ways. One: Lupin was able to find me, somehow, during my fourth year. Two: You have absolutely incomprehensible nicknames, yet you act as if they mean something. Three: Once a month, Lupin disappears for a few days. I know he's not visiting his sick mother. It's just about the worst excuse ever invented! Four: For one day during that period, the other three of you show up in class tired, as if you were up all night. Five: I've seen Lupin heading towards that Whomping Willow tree on the grounds.
"Well, Black? What do you have to say to that? Want me to keep looking for clues, until I figure out what it is you're doing, tell the whole school, and get the four of you expelled? Or will you just tell me, and save yourselves and me the trouble? Terminare Petrificum Vocalis! You can talk now. Make it count."
This is not good. Not good at all. Snivellus does pay attention to little details. Given enough time, he could figure it out. So . . .
Sirius thought for a moment, until he seized upon something that would get Snivellus back adequately. He grinned ferally for a second, then quashed his excitement—it was another little detail that might alert Snape to something awry. "Oh, sod off, Snivellus. There's a knot on the Willow; press it with a stick and it freezes. Secret passageway underneath. Since you're so smart, I'm sure you can connect the dots for yourself. Satisfied?"
Did Snape actually smile? Not a chance, but there was certainly a strange glint in his eyes. "Indeed. Finite!" he cast, throwing Sirius back his wand. And as Snape turned to stalk away, Sirius was sure he caught the edge of a grin wider than any he'd ever seen on the git's face . . .
"And keep your overly large nose out of our business in the future!" yelled Sirius to his retreating back.
Oh, this'll teach him. . . The equally well-hidden grin on Sirius's own face was even wider.
He practically skipped back to his dorm—it was tradition for the Marauders to meet up before sneaking out on full moon nights. As he walked, he amused himself by classifying the different forms Snape's reaction might take.
Fear? Terror? Pants-wetting horror? He grinned wickedly at the last one.
Oh, have I got something to tell Prongs . . .
"You did WHAT!"
James Potter had been in his dormitory with Peter—Remus had already left for his transformation—inspecting his Invisibility Cloak. He was just shoving it into his pocket when Sirius walked in, grinning fit to burst, saying something James dearly hoped he had not heard correctly, because if he had, Padfoot was even more of an idiot than he usually seemed to be . . .
"I told Snape how to get past the Willow," Sirius repeated in an extremely annoying sing-song voice. "He ambushed me, told me if I didn't tell him where we went he'd find out and tell the whole school—so I 'saved him the trouble'. And knowing him, he'll just go anyway. Serves him right, the git!"
By the end of this explanation, James's face was positively white. "I can't bloody believe you, Padfoot! How long ago did you tell him?" he asked anxiously.
"About fifteen minutes. What? I don't see what the big deal is, Prongs! It's just some fun—"
"—that has gone much too far," interrupted James, growling. "I'll have words for you later," he yelled as he rushed out.
James ran through the castle, fervently hoping it wouldn't be too late, that Snape wouldn't get to Remus, for he knew the terrible consequences if he did—consequences to Snape, most of all to Remus. Sirius probably wouldn't get in trouble at all. How I hate prejudice.
As he exited via the thankfully still open front doors, he looked up at the sky. Sure enough, the full moon had already risen over the horizon. On a normal night, Prongs would be standing guard outside the Willow, and Padfoot would be running through the tunnel to let Moony out. Wormtail would be scampering around, keeping the knot pressed when needed, maybe riding on Prongs's antlers . . .
But thanks to Sirius's hasty, ill-conceived, terminally stupid prank, tonight would not be a normal full moon night for the Marauders.
After he ran through the doors, James looked around quickly. Seeing no one who could observe his secret, he transformed into Prongs—the stag could run faster than he could as a human—and galloped toward the Whomping Willow.
There was a long stick near it.
Merlin, this is bad. Snape is already down there!
Prongs retransformed back into human form, grabbed the stick and prodded the magic knot on the Willow with it viciously; the thrashing tree instantly froze. James ran down, through the tunnel—he heard a howl from deep within—ran as fast as he could, cursing the fact that the space was too narrow for Prongs's voluminous antlers—ran full tilt until he ran into someone.
It was Snape.
"Potter!" he snarled. "What are you doing here?"
"Saving your life," said James breathlessly. "Sirius was an idiot. I may hate you, but I don't want you dead. Follow me."
Snape just sneered in response. "Why should I? I'll bet you were in this all along. Just another attempt to make me look pathetic. 'James Potter saves the day again!' Well, I'm not having it!" He wrenched himself free of James's grip and continued to run.
"Snape, wait! Severus! Stop!"
He did stop, if only for a moment, in utter shock that James had used his proper first name for once. Then the cynical part of his brain caught up with him. "If I didn't know you," he snarled, "I might actually believe you were trying to help me. But I do. As such, I know this is all one—big—scam!" He broke out into another run, James still close behind, still yelling for him to stop, and Snape continuing to ignore him . . .
Another howl rent the dark silence.
"Wh– What is that?" asked Snape shakily.
"It's what I've been warning you about, Snape! Just RUN, for Merlin's sake!" yelled James.
They were perilously close to the narrow entrance to the Shrieking Shack by now—close enough for Moony to smell. A furry gray face with gleaming blue eyes and an oddly shaped snout came into view. Soon, James was sure, it would be followed by a body, and the werewolf would chase them down the tunnel at a speed no human could match . . .
Snape didn't need telling twice. He ran. James wasn't about to just run after him, though; if he did that, they would both be bitten, probably eaten.
Waving his wand, James conjured wooden slats to cover the small opening to the Shrieking Shack. They won't hold for long, but it'll help, at least . . . Running back down the tunnel, conjuring anything and everything he could think of over his back as he did, he somehow managed to make it back to the Willow's entrance in one piece.
It was blocked by a violently thrashing branch.
James cursed inwardly. Looks like Snape got out, but now I'm trapped.
If I make it out of here alive, I am going to kill Sirius.
His pulse quickened and he began to breathe more rapidly as Moony crashed his way through the last few pieces of furniture he had created in the tunnel—he couldn't transform in here, he couldn't get out, and if something didn't happen soon he was going to be werewolf food. Moony was getting closer, James could practically smell his breath—
The branch blocking the entrance whipped out of sight, and the rustling sounds outside stopped instantly. It was almost as if someone had pressed the knot, but James wasn't too interested in figuring out the how of the situation at the moment.
He scrambled out of the passage not a moment too soon, transforming into Prongs the instant he was no longer constrained by the tight space. If the stag could have wiped its forehead, it would have done so.
Moony came barelling out of the Willow; Prongs's antlers met him head-on. The two struggled for a few minutes, until Moony grew bored of the game, turned, and sniffed the air. Even as a stag, Prongs was extremely worried. If anyone was wandering around out here, Moony would head straight for him, and one animal couldn't protect all directions.
I wish Padfoot was here.
Actually, scratch that. After what he did, I'm glad he's not.
Moony turned and stared down a patch of air. Prongs couldn't tell for sure, but it seemed subtly different from the surrounding emptiness; there was a faint smell coming from it . . .
Then James's human brain caught up with his stag one. He realized what the presence of that smell meant and started shaking his head frantically; the gesture looked rather comical on a stag, but the emotion behind it was undeniable. No, no, no, no, no . . . But there was nothing he could do. Prongs made a mad leap to cut off Moony, but he missed—Moony had bolted on ahead of him, and he was running fast.
An Invisibility Cloak was thrown off, revealing Gertrude Granger—Danger. She was staring straight at the werewolf, but her expression wasn't one of fear.
It was more . . . determination? How could any human be determined when face-to-face with an angry werewolf? Even a wizard or witch—werewolves, as creatures of magic, were impervious to most spells. The only way to easily kill one was a silver projectile of some sort—James knew of something, the Silver Dart Curse, that would do it, but he doubted Danger knew it, and he was rather glad she didn't. He liked Remus alive, after all.
Moony leapt into the air, his trajectory perfect for a pounce on Danger. Her face showed a flicker of fear, but quickly regained its composure.
Is she out of her mind?
The next few seconds seemed to take an eternity, as Prongs watched what he was sure would be the younger girl's last moments. He leapt into the fray, trying to push Moony aside, at least delay the inevitable . . .
It wasn't necessary. Danger dove to the ground and grabbed Moony's front left paw as it passed overhead.
A huge red spark—more like a small bolt of lightning—passed between Danger's hand and Moony's paw as both collapsed to the ground, unmoving.
Prongs walked up unsteadily and prodded Moony, then Danger, with his antlers. Neither stirred.
Fearfully, he retransformed and checked Danger's pulse. It was normal. She's not dead, then. Just . . . unconscious? What happened, anyway? Is Moony okay? The Marauders' Animagus transformations had taught them quite a lot about canine physiology, and James knew where to check for a pulse on the large wolf. Moony's alive too. It almost seems like he's just sleeping. Which is odd; I've never heard of a werewolf sleeping on full moon.
I should really take Danger up to the Hospital Wing, but really . . . what would I say? She touched a werewolf and collapsed? I'm sure Madam Pomfrey would know exactly what to do for that one, he thought sarcastically.
And I have the strangest feeling they shouldn't be separated . . .
After the harrowing escape a few minutes prior, it was all a bit too much for James to wrap his head around. Seeking the comfort of a stag's simpler emotions, he transformed and lay down next to the unconscious couple.
First time I've ever tried to sleep in Animagus form, James realized. It wasn't something he would usually have done, but it had been a long day and an even longer night, he didn't want to leave Moony and Danger alone, and he didn't know what else he could do. Comforting himself with the thought that any disturbance would surely wake him—stags, being fundamentally prey, were easily startled—Prongs drifted off to sleep.
Last I knew, I was trapped in the Shrieking Shack, waiting for the moon to rise, wondering why Padfoot hadn't shown up.
Now, I'm . . . he looked around and down at himself. At Hogwarts? Wearing dress robes?
Remus didn't recognize the room he was in, but the decor was certainly familiar. Two large doors, perhaps to the Great Hall, were slightly open, and music could be heard coming from inside; he thought he should recognize it, he had heard it before, but he couldn't for the life of him remember where . . .
"What's going on?" Remus asked aloud, to an empty room.
A room he thought was empty, anyway. "'What's going on', the man asks," spoke up Sirius Black from behind him. Remus wheeled around to see Sirius—Sirius in three years or so—leaning casually against the wall, wearing well-crafted crimson robes. "Merlin, Moony, I know you get nerves sometimes, but this is a new low. How do you forget your own wedding?"
Wedding? Huh?
The music changed from inside. "Come on, that's our cue!" Sirius practically propelled him through the magically opened doors, muttering, "Just like in rehearsals, Moony."
"If only I remembered them, Padfoot," he whispered, but Sirius didn't respond. Of course he didn't. It's probably a dream, he realized. Though certainly more real than any I've had before . . .
As he stepped over the threshold, Remus couldn't help but gasp. It was indeed the Great Hall, but decorated unlike he had ever seen it. Instead of the long House tables, two sections of neat rows of bench-like white seats, filled with more people than Remus thought he knew, faced the dais upon which the groom and best man (Remus and Sirius) now stood. White ribbons and white flowers were everywhere, and a few yards away on the dais stood a balding man wearing what looked like the ceremonial robes of the Minister of Magic . . . The music was a processional now, and he watched as four ushers and four bridesmaids walked side-by-side down the aisle, followed by the maid of honor, alone and proud . . .
And I recognize everyone, he realized with a start; the scene was so unreal that he had at first paid little attention to who these people were. That's Harry with Ginny, Ron with Hermione, James with Lily, Peter with Rachel, and Aletha is the maid of honor . . .
Which would leave the bride as— But Remus's train of thought was cut off as she arrived and the crowd rose to its feet. Her face was veiled, but Remus recognized the man giving her away—none other than his own illustrious Headmaster. And as she walked, Remus was sure he could detect something niggingly familiar about her stature, her mannerisms . . .
The bride stepped up onto the dais and turned to face him. Dumbledore gently lifted her veil. Remus looked into her eyes, resplendent with joy, the face he knew and, dare he say it, loved so well . . .
—Danger. Everything seemed to click into place. This must be like the dream Danger told me about, the one that drop-kicked me into the world of the connected.
Snatches of that fateful first meeting drifted into Remus's mind. "I was so happy to see you that I forgot I didn't know anything about you. And I grabbed your hand, and suddenly I did know—everything," Danger had said. And as the couple joined hands, Remus found out what she had meant.
The nearly sixteen years of Gertrude "Danger" Granger's life played on fast-forward in his mind. In the course of what probably amounted to only a few seconds, he learned more about her than he had in the month they had known each other, more even than he suspected he would have learned in the coming year.
It was an amazing experience; Remus was sure he saw at least a flash of everything that had happened in her life, but with the context necessary to understand those events, and the personality they had shaped, as well as he knew himself . . .
Danger's life had always been a simple one. She had no overarching cause, no unrealistic expectations of the future; she took each day as it came, found joy in the simple things, in the parents and home she loved above all else. Rather bookish, perhaps a bit scatter-brained, quiet, Gertrude Kelly Granger had few friends and only two confidants, but she wouldn't have traded her life for anything.
She was happy. No, more than that—happiness came and went, good days with bad ones. She was content.
And then her parents were killed.
And on that dull, otherwise unremarkable night of Tuesday the seventeenth of August, her world was shattered into a million tiny pieces. Danger's parents had meant the world to her, and without them she felt alone, confused, desperate. Dumbledore had appeared the following day, forged her a path to follow out of the wilderness she felt confronted with—she took it without hesitation, simply because she had nothing else to hold onto. She had tried to push away her despair, drown it out with never-ending work, until finally it had burst out on that first Hogsmeade weekend. And she had formed new connections, had more people she needed and who needed her in return—like me, Remus realized—and that allowed her to start working through her grief.
". . . as long as you both shall live?" finished the Minister.
He looked pointedly at Remus, who realized it was he being addressed, and responded, "Er, I do."
The Minister turned to Danger and repeated the question; this time Remus heard it in full. "I do," Danger's voice rang out through the Hall.
"By the power vested in me by the office of Minister of Magic, I do hereby pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."
Remus did as he was told.
Wow. Again. They had kissed before, but somehow this one managed to be even more amazing, even more magical—if that was even possible.
As much as I might try to deny it, I am definitely in love.
They broke off the kiss, and the next minutes seemed to pass in a blur, so that the next thing Remus knew was dancing to something slow and beautiful—by Bach?—in each other's arms. Remus was pretty sure he had a beatific smile on his face.
Danger grinned impishly at him. "I figured out the last quartrain of last night's poem."
"All of it?" Danger had shown it to Remus that morning—was that really less than twelve hours ago?—and neither had understood a word of it.
"I think so. Let me see:
Let wolf find wolf of
darkness bright,
And with your touch, forfend his plight.
Then he shall see that which you knew,
And find
his way to future true.
"The wolves are us, I'm pretty sure. 'Darkness bright' just means a night with a lot of light—the full moon. And with all the clues in both poems, I'm pretty sure I'm a wolf Animagus. So the first line basically says I have to find you. Which I did." She laid her head against his shoulder. "My handsome wolf."
"The third line—'see that which you knew'—that's referring to this dream?"
"Seems like it," Danger mumbled against Remus's shoulder. She lifted her head and looked him in the eye, a huge grin on her face. "But that's not the best part. 'And with your touch, forfend his plight?'"
Remus looked confused. "What plight? I don't have a—"
"Come on, Moony, don't be daft," teased Danger as she shook her head, still smiling.
The emphasis she put on the word 'Moony' was too clear to be ignored. Remus gaped at her, hardly daring to believe she was saying what he thought she was, because it was just too impossible . . . "You— you—"
"Yeah, that 'plight'. When you transform, you lose your human mind in the wolf, right?"
Remus nodded, hardly trusting himself to speak.
Danger smiled even more widely, and Remus became acutely aware of just how beautiful she was. "I found out tonight that my magic reverses that. I'm a werewolf tamer, I guess you could say. When I touch you while you're transformed, you get your human mind back. You get to be in control."
Remus was reasonably sure he was doing a good impression of a joyful goldfish right about now. In control . . . Merlin, what that would mean . . .
I wouldn't have to worry about hurting people. Ever. I could have a job, a life. How did the poem put it? A 'future true'? No one would be afraid of me, I wouldn't wear myself out raging against the lack of food around me . . .
I could live a normal life. His elation at this realization was indescribable. Normal. A word I never would have applied to me.
But Remus had experienced too much hardship to gain hope when it all seemed so uncertain. If it's true, he forced himself to qualify.
Please, please, Merlin, please let it be true!
And I'd have to stay close to Danger, since she's the only one who can do the magic . . . Remus looked at the beautiful young woman in his arms. No, somehow I don't think that would be a problem at all.
The music swelled up again. "Right now, Remus, you're the happiest I've ever seen you. And trust me, it's true."
"I'm the happiest I've ever been," said Remus, still a bit dazed by the revelation and its wonderful consequences. "Thanks to you," he whispered so softly he doubted Danger heard. "For more reasons than one."
"And we know all about each other now, so I feel fully justified in saying this: I love you, Remus Lupin, wolf of my heart."
This is, most definitely, the best thing that has ever, ever, ever happened to me. Remus tried to reply, but his voice caught in his throat. He swallowed hard and tried to get the words in the right order—he'd never said them before, but it just seemed so right. "And I— I love you, Gertrude Granger, Danger of my life."
Danger raised her eyebrows. "That sounds terrible," she said, deadpan. Remus was a bit worried until she cracked up laughing, and he followed suit. "It does, doesn't it," he gasped out some thirty seconds later.
"Hey, it's the thought that counts." Danger's grin was threatening to burst off her face, and Remus was sure his was similar.
They danced the dream away.
A slight rustling noise woke Prongs with a start. He stood up abruptly.
Where am I, and why am I in my Animagus form?
He looked around. The Forbidden Forest? Memories of the night started coming back to him. Moony! Danger! Sure enough, there they were, still out cold . . .
Danger stirred, streched, groaned slightly.
She's waking up! Right! Next! To! A! Werewolf! Hopefully, Moony's still unconscious . . . Seeking to expedite the process, Prongs tapped her gently with his antlers.
She woke with a start. "Ow!" Well, gently for a stag.
James didn't want to be human around Moony, just in case—werewolves ate humans, after all, and the process of Animagus transformation was made much more difficult under pressure—so he did his best to gesture as a stag. He looked at Danger intently, Danger, then at Moony, that's a werewolf, then up to Gryffindor Tower, and you should get away from him—right now.
"You want me to take Moony up to Gryffindor Tower?" she asked. "I suppose that's a good idea, but I'd need to borrow your cloak to cover him—Harry lent me his, but I don't think it'll fit both of us . . ."
Prongs snorted and shook his enormous head. He looked at Moony, then the Willow, then Danger, then up to the castle. This is ridiculous.
"You want me to take Moony back to the Shrieking Shack, then go up to Gryffindor Tower alone?"
One enormous, antlered, very heavy head nodded.
It was Danger's turn to snort. "No, thank you. James, just turn human. Moony's not going to hurt you."
Grudgingly, he obliged. "What in Merlin's name are you talking about?" he burst out as soon as he had mouth, lips, and tongue to do it.
"Moony. Is. Harmless." Danger punctuated each word sharply. "How hard is that to understand?"
James rolled his eyes. "Considering he's a werewolf, I'd say, 'very'."
"Fine, then. I'll show you." She leaned over the werewolf and shook him gently. "Come on, Moony, wake up."
"Are you trying to get us both killed?" James hissed. "He. Is. A. Werewolf! In this form, he doesn't care who he attacks! Human equals dead!"
Danger sighed but didn't stop her attempts to rouse the wolf. "If you don't believe me, just go back to the Tower. I'll explain more thoroughly tomorrow."
"Gladly." Away from this madness. He took his Invisibility Cloak out of a pocket and tossed it to Danger. "You need it. I don't. I've been sneaking around this school for five years," he said with a smirk. "Well, see you tomorrow." He transformed and galloped off.
If she's even alive then . . . which, if she keeps acting like this, she won't be.
I feel like I'm missing something here . . .
Remus became dimly aware of someone shaking him. "All right, Mum, I'm up," he said.
Or he tried to, anyway. What actually came out was somewhere between a whimper and a growl.
What the . . . He looked up at the full moon.
Hold on, full moon? Shouldn't I be a wolf right now?
He stood up. Four feet. . . he looked down, paws. . . I am a wolf.
Suddenly, his dream came back to him. Danger. Werewolf taming. This. Is. UNREAL!
Danger stood and grinned down at him. "Ah, I see you're finally up. How do you feel?"
Amazing. Simply amazing. I can never tell you how much this means to me. Moony howled with delight.
"So don't tell me, then. Come on, let's go up to Gryffindor Tower."
I do not want to know what Filch would do if he found a werewolf wandering the halls.
"Nor do I. Which is why James lent his Invisibility Cloak, and I have Harry's." Danger tossed a cloak over the wolf; it actually fit him rather nicely. "Heel, Moony."
He gave a rippling growl; mentally, he was laughing. Danger had put Harry's cloak on, but Moony didn't need to see her to follow; his amazingly keen wolf senses would have let him trail her by scent half-asleep. As he walked, his nose nearly exploded with the cacophony of smells wafting from the forest, along with a few more personal scents he recognized . . . James's, Danger's, Harry's (on the Cloak), . . . Snape's? What is Snape doing here?
"Tell you later," said Danger as they walked. Her voice was light, but somehow Remus knew she was very mad at someone (not him).
How do I know that? Come to think of it, how can Danger hear me?
She stopped. "I have absolutely no idea. Hold on a second; let me try something." Can you hear this? Danger's voice sounded in his mind.
Moony gave a slight start. Loud and clear, he responded.
This is very interesting. Guess that answers that, then. They continued to walk, through the huge double doors guarding the castle's entrance, up seven flights of stairs to the Fat Lady.
They didn't notice that they had passed by a corridor on the fourth floor near Dumbledore's office—a corridor Dumbledore was walking in, in fact.
Take off your cloak, suggested Remus as the Gryffindor portrait guard looked around curiously. She can't see you.
Danger did so, and the Fat Lady finally noticed them. "Out a bit late, are we?"
"Oh, you have no idea. Just leave the prosyletizing to McGonagall and let us in, will you? Bubotober."
"Fine, fine," muttered the Fat Lady as she swung open. Danger climbed in, and Moony leapt behind her—the opening was easy enough for a wolf of any kind to jump through. Unfortunately, his Invisibility Cloak wasn't so lucky, and a lupine head poked out.
And eight people they knew very well were sitting anxiously in the common room.
"Sirius is in bed," explained James. "I chewed him out pretty well when I got back. Hold on—Moony?"
The werewolf shook himself, causing the Invisibility Cloak covering him to fall off. Nearly everyone in the room backed up a step or two when they saw him. Then, quite clearly, Moony turned his head to look at James—and winked. James recoiled in shock.
This is far, far too fun.
You're just far, far too cheerful, replied Danger with a mental smirk. "He's tame," she reassured the group. "Thanks to a power of mine I still don't really understand."
Moony nodded, a trifle exaggeratedly.
Harry was the first to step forward, a bit hesitantly. "Er. . . I think we can trust that Danger's not playing a prank on us right now. Not right after Sirius did what he did . . ."
What did he do?
What part of 'tell you later' do you not understand? Don't worry, nothing bad happened. Luckily. I just don't want you to worry yet.
"Anyway," he continued, "I think this discussion would be best continued in the Den. We do not want the questions that would come of having a werewolf in the common room." Remus saw Aletha mouth, wide-eyed, the word "werewolf?"; evidently she was the only one who didn't know, or at least suspect. Harry walked to the fireplace and whispered something even Remus's highly enhanced wolf senses could barely make out.
"Thank you, Godric" again? They know about that hiding place?
Oh, they discovered it. And it's much more than a hiding place. Trust me.
A soft grating noise, and the hole by the fireplace reappeared in all its unglory. "All right, everyone down. Can Moony slide in this form?"
Danger's brown eyes swirled briefly with blue. "Of course. He says it should be even more fun as a wolf."
Hermione's eyes glinted with suppressed questions, but she kept her mouth shut.
Harry slid down first, and called down the others one by one, ushering them off the bed and into the main room. Finally, Danger emerged, and Moony fell out right on top of her.
Oof! Why didn't you wait?
I did. Wolf hair is slicker, you know.
Having guessed the reason, Harry snickered as they untangled themselves. "Thank you, Godric," he said, and the passageway closed itself off. "I trust you two with that password, but not the other Marauders—not yet, at least. Please keep it secret."
Agreed. "Agreed."
They all took seats in the Gryffindor common room replica the main room was still set to—Moony curled up on an armchair—and faced each other impatiently for a minute,
Hermione broke the silence. "I think some people—" she shot a pointed glance at Danger and at James— "have quite a lot to explain to the rest of us."
There were ten there. Three of the Marauders (Sirius was excluded for what he had done). Danger, Lily, Aletha. Remus surveyed the room with large eyes. Everyone here, I would trust with my secrets—and my life, if it ever came down to that. It was an amazing feeling; in a month, the number of people he trusted had tripled. Even Aletha—I barely gave her a second glance before, but now I've been spending time with her because of Danger, and she really is a good person. In her own, stubborn way. They deserve to know.
Danger relayed the message, and Moony punctuated her words with nods of his lupine head.
James grimaced. "Yesterday, I would have just told you to shove off," he said lightly. "However, Sirius did something really, extremely, unbearably stupid today—notice he's the only one of us not here?—and I only barely saved Snape's life. I hate him, all right, but I don't want him dead, and I definitely don't want Moony to get at him. I guess it sort of made me realize how petty I've been being. So I guess I'll tell you."
Moony's hackles raised as James explained himself. What did— did I—
It's fine, soothed Danger. No thanks to Sirius, though. Just listen, you big dog.
"But first, I'd like to know how much you know already," James finished with a smile.
Harry spoke for all four time-travelers. "Remus—Moony—is a werewolf. We don't care, by the way. The three of you somehow spend full moons with him—from your nicknames, I'd say you're Animagi, which is damn impressive."
"Werewolf?" asked Aletha astonishedly.
"There wolf," replied Danger in a guttaral voice, pointing to Remus. "There castle." She pointed up.
Aletha laughed and shook her head. "Very funny, Danger." She regarded Remus curiously. "Remus, right? I never even guessed. Just figured your mum was always sick or something," she said with a laugh. "And don't worry," she added hastily, "I don't care. I didn't grow up with the prejudice."
Thanks. "He says thanks."
"I had my suspicions about Remus's lycanthropy—again, I don't mind it," said Lily, "—but I didn't even have a clue about the Animagi. Are you really?"
James smiled tiredly. "Yeah, we are. I'm Prongs—" he transformed into the magnificent stag and back as Lily and Aletha gaped— "and Peter is Wormtail, a rat." He, too, demonstrated, scuttling around for a minute before retransforming, and so missed the shared glance between the time-travelers and Danger at the description of his form. "Sirius, Padfoot, is a big black dog who is currently in very deep doggy doo in the doghouse." The others chuckled slightly. "You won't tell anyone, right? Because this could get us in very big trouble, you know."
Lily adopted her best Professor McGonagall impression. "Under one condition," she said crisply.
"What's that?" asked James, suddenly apprehensive.
She's joking, I can smell it. This should be interesting.
Lily just glared at him for maybe fifteen seconds, James gulping like a fish, until her stern expression suddenly cracked. "You teach us," she said with a grin.
James smiled too. "I guess it's the least we can do for you guys. We've done some pretty stupid things, you know." He ignored Aletha's "Pretty stupid?" and went on to explain the particulars of Remus's transformation in the Shrieking Shack, and the passageway connecting it to the Whomping Willow. "There's a knot on the roots you can touch that freezes it," he said. "You can reach it with a long stick, or we use Wormtail. Until now, it worked." He paused, grimacing.
"Then Sirius told Snape how to get through the Willow."
Aletha let out a stream of colorful expletives. "I can't bloody believe him!" she screamed. "The damn IDIOT!"
Remus, too, cursed very loudly (mentally), causing Danger to wince. That bloody IDIOT! What was he playing at, anyway?
"I found out, ran to the Willow with a bit of help from Prongs, and managed to get to Snape before he got more than halfway down the tunnel." He paused. "Unfortunately, the git didn't believe me, and continued to run straight towards the Shack. And considering our track record," he said ruefully, shaking his head, "I can't say I blame him. I guess I'm starting to realize our attitude really has been having unintended consequences—consequences that could get someone killed."
Lily's eyes were wide, and she was smiling. "I'm impressed, James." It was the first time any of them had heard her say his first name.
James beamed at that. "Thanks," he said earnestly. "Anyway, I didn't get Snape to believe me until he saw Moony trying to squeeze himself through the entrance to the Shack, and by then it was almost too late . . . wolves are a lot faster than humans, and the small tunnel suited Moony better than me for size.
"Snape bolted. I kept conjuring stuff behind me to keep the wolf busy as I ran. Snape got out fine, I think, but I would've been werewolf food if someone hadn't frozen the Willow—"
"That was me," said Danger. "Under an Invisibility Cloak. And Snape was unhurt, as far as I could tell, but he was running really, really fast, so I didn't get a good look."
"Again, thanks," said James a bit meekly. The change in the formerly cocky and arrogant boy was astonishing. "That's it from me. How did you know to be there, anyway, Danger?"
"Oh, must've forgotten to mention I have prophetic dreams sometimes," she said innocently. That drew a few more laughs, but all fell silent as Danger explained her side of the story—it was just too amazing.
"And this will work every month?" asked Ron. "Forever?"
Danger frowned in thought. "I think so, at least as long as I'm around this guy." She patted Remus a bit forcefully on the head. "I don't know how I know it—I just do."
"Well, I guess that's it," said Ginny pensively. Her eyes lit up. "I know Moony and Danger will probably want to stay down here—is there any reason we all couldn't, at least tonight? I kind of like it down here, and it might do Moony good to have some company."
I don't mind, I guess.
Who knows, responded Danger, you might even like it. "Fine by me," Danger she said aloud with a smile. "And I doubt the professors would notice, if we go back up early." The other eight thought it a good idea as well, so Harry asked the room for "a place for us all to sleep."
Moony yipped as his chair disappeared, and landed on the ground—the now padded ground. Almost as comfortable as a mattress, nice for a wolf. I like it.
"Well, I guess that's one way to do it," Ginny laughed. "Night, everyone."
Over the next few minutes, eight people lay down and fell asleep. Only Danger and Moony remained awake, contemplative.
This officially qualifies as the best night of my life. You. The lack of secrets. Not to mention your ability.
I thought you'd be most enthusiastic about that last one, Danger replied with a mental sarcastic smirk.
Are you kidding? Remus was indignant. It's you, Danger. You are officially the most amazing person I have ever met. Your ability is very nice, very convenient, definitely—it makes things much easier for me. But it's not why I love you, he finished sincerely. It was a testament to the strength of their bond that those last three words already felt natural to say.
Even without my magic, you know, I wouldn't back away from you.
Which is exactly why you're such a remarkable person. You do realize I could probably count the number of people in the whole school who would be willing to get romantically involved with a werewolf on one paw?
She was silent for a moment. You had the same dream as I did, right?
Yeah, I did. I finally understand what you were talking about on the first day. Though I'll admit I did think you a bit nutters at first . . .
Danger administered the mental equivalent of a good-natured swat to the back of the head. A few more seconds' silence, and her mood turned serious. I mean what I said, you know. While we were dancing.
So do I.
Do you think we're too young for this? Danger suddenly asked, worried.
Of course not, Remus wanted to respond instinctively, but he forced himself to consider the question seriously and impartially for a few seconds. Finally, he responded. No, he said carefully, I don't. We've both had to grow up so much faster than we should've, he said wistfully, thinking of his bite, of Danger's parents.
And when something as wonderful as this comes along, finished Danger, you don't want to let it go.
Exactly.
A minute's silence followed, though not an uncomfortable one; more like the silence of mutual contemplation. Because that's what it is. Danger has turned my life around in a month, Remus thought, being careful to think 'quietly'. And, to be honest, I can't ever see myself with anyone else.
Love really is an amazing thing.
They finally drifted off to sleep, Danger's hand still around Remus's paw.
Lily Evans woke with a yawn.
Slowly, still half-asleep, she began to notice elements of her surroundings that seemed somehow out-of-place. People snoring? Nobody in my dorm snores . . . and why am I still wearing my robes?
She sat up and moved to sit on the edge of her bed—only to find that the edge wasn't there.
What the—
Lily opened her eyes—and everything came back to her. Last night, staying up late in the common room with the four time-travelers, Danger, Aletha, Sirius (looking distinctly fidgety), Peter . . . What a motley group, she remembered thinking. And for some reason, they all had stayed awake as the other inhabitants of Gryffindor Tower went up, one by one, to bed. An unusual anxiety had pervaded the air.
Lily was pretty sure she had been on high alert ever since Danger came up to Harry, practically radiating anger, and asked for his Invisibility Cloak "to right a wrong." Harry complied, and when he asked why, Danger just said, "Sirius told Snape. Need to help James," before running off.
Harry had seemed to understand this, though Lily was sure she didn't. It was a rather tense two hours that followed; it was only about nine o'clock at night, so the common room wasn't completely deserted and nothing secret could be discussed. Hermione read Hogwarts: A History. Ron probably wound up playing a game of chess against every one of the others—and won all of them. Sirius looked at his hands, shuffled his feet nervously, and didn't talk to anyone; it was the strangest expression Lily had ever seen on the notoriously laid-back troublemaker.
By the time James had burst into the room, the nine friends were the only ones left. He had glared at Sirius more harshly than Lily thought him able, practically dragging him up to the sixth-year boys' dorms. Snatches of the ensuing argument could be heard quite clearly below. ". . . what you were thinking . . . out of your mind . . . don't you care about . . . want Moony to be . . ." Again, all quite mystifying, though Harry was evidently rather glad James was so mad. Probably something they remember from the future, Lily had figured.
And then James had come back down, looking much calmer. When asked, he would say nothing more than "Sirius did something incredibly stupid." The mood had calmed, and Lily had been about to head up to bed when the portrait hole opened to reveal Danger and a wolf's head.
She had just gaped at it, hardly daring to believe that this was Remus—Remus in wolf form—and, if Danger was to be believed, he was tame in that form, too, something widely thought impossible. Lily didn't have the problems accepting it that the others did, though. Clearly, he's not attacking us, and he can definitely smell us by now—heck, he got all the way up to Gryffindor Tower, under a cloak even. He must be safe.
Interesting how more and more of us are finding out about the Den. I think Harry and his friends are using it as a sort of indicator of trust—clearly, it was James, Aletha, and Peter's first time down there, whereas Danger looked like she already knew . . .
The story James had told was difficult to swallow—Animagi at fifteen?—but upon some introspection, Lily realized it was the only explanation that fit the facts. Impressive, that—it's supposed to be really, really hard magic.
Thus, her demand to learn. Okay, so maybe I did ask in a bit of an underhanded way, but James has been breaking plenty of rules too. For a good reason. As is this. She had been more than shocked at this other, caring side of James that had surfaced tonight. I never would have expected him to be the sort to do something like that for a friend, or to risk his own life—even downplaying that risk—in order to save that of an enemy . . .
Potter is actually a decent guy, and he seems to have grown up tonight, enough that he doesn't mind showing he's decent.
Imagine that.
Lily was the first to wake up, but others soon followed: Remus and Danger (at the exact same time), Hermione, James, Ginny, Harry, . . . Pretty soon, they all were up, although Ron had to be prodded (by Hermione) under his nose with a piece of bacon sent by the house-elves.
"Good morning," said Danger cheerfully.
"And that would be the first time I've ever said that night after a full moon." Remus grinned. "Thanks for staying down here with me, everyone." He looked a bit uncomfortable.
Understandable; his lycanthropy must be an extremely private thing for him. Lily could tell, though, that Remus had enjoyed the company. He just was uncomfortable asking for it.
"Why don't we make this a tradition?" suggested Danger. "Full moon nights, the ten of us, down here. I kind of like that idea."
Remus glared at her. His blue eyes swirled with brown, Danger's brown ones with blue . . . What's up with that? They look like they're talking to someone . . .
Finally, Remus relented. "OK, I guess I'm good for it," he said. "It's just weird. For ten years, I've forced myself to fear, against the instincts of the wolf, being around people under the full moon. That's not the kind of thing you just snap out of in one night."
Lily decided to speak up. "Danger's gift is an incredible benefit to you, Remus. You should make the most of it."
"I guess." He smiled shyly. "Anyone else?"
"I like it," said Harry. "A lot. It'd be good for Remus, and I think it would be good for us, too, to have a time to just—relax, I guess. Where it's just us. Away from the war."
His three time-traveling friends agreed with that sentiment.
"I'll be here for Remus," said James solemnly. "I have been, every full moon, for a year, I'm not going to stop now. And as much as I'd like to keep that within the Marauders, I think you guys have earned your place alongside us. We really have been idiots lately."
And, for the second time in twelve hours, those words fly from his mouth. I'm impressed.
"Same for me," Peter chirped. "But isn't Moony going to get a bit restless indoors? Wolves like to run, you know."
Harry pointed at one of the green doors. "Indoor Quidditch pitch. Use to your heart's content."
James's eyes lit up. "Really?" he asked excitedly.
Men and Quidditch, I swear.
"I'm in," offered Aletha. "I may not have intended to get involved with this, but now that I am, don't think I'm just going to walk away from you guys. I'm here for good," she said sincerely.
"Well, that's everyone. Thanks, guys," said Remus, shaking his head in disbelief. "I never expected to have so many people who care about me. Ever."
"You give yourself too little credit," said Lily softly. "Good people usually don't befriend gits."
Remus blushed a bit. "Again, well, thanks. And I guess we should go back up now." He made as if to stand up, then turned crimson as he realized he wasn't wearing anything under the blanket he had on. "Err—"
James chuckled. "I'll get you your robes, Moony," he said with a grin. "How do you get out of here, anyway?"
It was Harry who answered. "Go to the Gryffindor bedroom, jump on the bed three times, say, 'Thank you, Godric.' And hope nobody's in the common room to see you." He looked at his watch out of habit. "Damn," he muttered, "keep forgetting the stupid thing hasn't been working right since the Second Task . . . Anyone got a watch?" he asked more loudly.
"I do," said Lily. She looked at it and grimaced. "Seven forty-five A.M."
Ron cursed. "We're never going to get through the common room unnoticed at this hour. Everyone's up, and breakfast doesn't start for another fifteen minutes, so the common room is full. We're stuck here until classes start, and then we'll be late."
Hermione frowned, pondering this for a moment. "Hmm . . ." Suddenly, her eyes lit up and she bolted to the other green door, the one opposite the Gryffindor bedroom. She opened it. "Alex?" she called. "Is there any way to get back up unnoticed?"
"Yes," came a reply.
"The portrait," muttered Harry. "Alex's portrait . . . he knows everything about this place . . . I should've guessed."
"Can you tell us how?" asked Hermione.
"Yes."
Guess he has a sense of humor . . . refreshing, that.
"Will you tell us?"
"Yes."
Hermione clutched at her hair. "Argh! Okay, let's try this again. How does one get out of here unnoticed?"
"That's better," laughed Alex. "Just say 'stealth mode' before you say the password."
"Thanks for the prompt and helpful response," said Hermione sarcastically. She walked back into the main room. "Well, you heard what Alex said. Sometimes I think he enjoys playing with our heads . . ."
"You have no idea," said a muffled voice from the Slytherin bedroom.
"And did I mention he hears everything?"
Ten people suddenly appeared in front of the Gryffindor common room fireplace. Nobody was watching them—the fireplace was so uninteresting at this time—but if anyone had been, they wouldn't have thought twice about the incident.
"That worked great!" exclaimed Harry quietly as he noticed the lack of excitement their arrival had generated.
James wasn't smiling, though. He was glaring straight at Sirius Black, who was unusually subdued this morning. "Marauders. Dormitory. Now," he hissed.
The four boys ascended the stairs in silence.
"Where did you guys go last night?" asked Sirius as he plopped down on his bed.
"None of your goddamn business," snarled James. "Why did you do it, Sirius? Why?"
Evidently Sirius was taken aback by the change in his usually easy-going friend. Normally, it was Sirius that had the temper issues, Sirius that got mad at the drop of a hat. Not James. Good, he thought savagely, let him squirm a bit. He deserves it.
"Prongs, I—"
"What, Sirius?" James cut him off. "You're sorry? Do you think sorry would have saved Snape's life? Were you trying to kill him?" He was yelling quite loudly by now.
Sirius sighed. "No, James, I wasn't trying to kill him. I just wanted to scare the greasy git a bit—"
"AT WHAT PRICE?" roared Remus suddenly. "My LIFE? Do you understand, Sirius, what would have happened if James hadn't intervened?"
"Well, no, I—"
"I would have bitten him," said Remus more coldly than James had ever heard him. Every word seemed encased in shards of ice. "I might have killed him." He seemed to be keeping calm with difficulty. "And what then?" No one answered. "Oh, yes, they would have—what's the expression?—put me down."
By now, Sirius had his head in his hands; Remus's icy calm was far worse than any shouting he could have done. "I'm sorry, Moony," he moaned. "I didn't think."
"That's right," said Remus, still in his coldest tones. "You didn't think. And because of that, Sirius Black, you have betrayed my trust. Good luck repairing it." He walked out of the dorm room stiffly.
Silence pervaded.
"Moony's right, you know," said James seriously a minute later.
"What, does everyone hate me now?" asked Sirius testily.
James took a few deep breaths, forcing himself to remain calm. I don't want to lose him as a friend, he reminded himself. No matter how much of a bloody idiot he was, he'll learn. "We don't hate you, Sirius," he said. "We're just very, very upset with the decision you made. Remus more than me, to be honest—you didn't even think of the impact it would have on him. How do you think he would like it if he wound up biting Snape? Do you think he could ever live with himself?"
Sirius remained silent.
"Merlin, Padfoot, we've all done stupid things sometimes. We learn from them. I really hope you learn from this. I learned from it too."
"How?"
"I caught Snape before he could get down the tunnel very far. I should've been able to get him out of there without any risk to either of us. But he didn't believe me. Thought I was just trying to make him look even more stupid. Thought we had set this whole thing up."
Sirius actually snorted. "Why should he believe any of us? We're practically sworn enemies."
James was not amused. "That's exactly my point, Sirius," he said heavily. "We've made such a reputation for ourselves of being silly troublemakers. That's not all we are, but it's all people see us as. And today, I realized that reputation could have gotten someone killed."
"It didn't, though, did it?"
"It almost did. I almost died. Did you want that, Sirius?"
He looked apalled. "Of course not!"
James shook his head. "I know, but that's what could have happened. This was an absolutely, terminally, utterly stupid thing for you to do. Learn from it." He sighed dramatically. "I do believe it is time for the remaining two silly Marauders to grow up."
Sirius managed to crack a grin. "Perhaps."
He was reminded of a question once posed to a mutilated ghost. Why on Earth did you douse yourself in steak sauce and run unarmed into the dragon's cave?
And the mournful reply: Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time . . .
The day was Saturday, and Minerva McGonagall, Professor of Transfiguration, was currently enjoying a rare day off. She had stayed up late last night finishing the grading of a veritable ream of students' papers, and was now reaping the fruit of her labors: a glass of fine wine, the latest issue of Transfiguration Today, her feet up on her desk, and a firmly locked and Silenced office door.
Until, that is, Armando Dippet burst into his frame in her office, brandishing what seemed to be an invisibile slip of paper. "Dumbledore wishes to see you, James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Gertrude Granger immediately in his office," he said excitedly.
Sighing a bit, McGonagall put away her magazine and her wine and walked briskly out of her office. One did not refuse the Headmaster of Hogwarts, after all, even on one's rare day off. Especially in the presence of a word like "immediately." It was not one Albus Dumbledore used lightly.
She changed to her feline form—it was amazing how few students recognized the cat, even after seeing it on their first day of class—and sniffed out the four students mentioned in Dumbledore's message. Remus and Danger could be found (sure enough) in the library, studying together. James and Sirius were in the Gryffindor common room. Soon, all four of them were walking silenty behind her past the gargoyle ("Tootsie Pop!") and up the stairs to the Headmaster's office . . .
"Come in, Minerva."
And I doubt I'll ever discover how he does that.
The five entered the Headmaster's office, sitting in chairs he conjured for them. Severus Snape was already there. I wonder what the boys have done now. Hopefully nothing terrible . . .
"Thank you for bringing them, Minerva." He addressed the four Gryffindors. "I have brought you here to address the events of last night. This is a serious matter indeed. Remus, are you comfortable with Mr. Potter and Miss Granger being present for this conversation? It involves certain secrets you guard closely. Mr. Black and Severus already know."
"They can stay, sir," he said immediately. "They know as well."
"Excellent." He steepled his fingertips. "Now, Severus has told me a most interesting account of last night's events. He states that you, Mr. Black, told him how to pass the Whomping Willow. Is this true?"
Sirius shot a glance at Snape, then looked at his feet. "Yes, sir, it is."
Years of practice hiding her emotions allowed McGonagall to school her expression into one of simple sternness, but her lips were pressed into a barely visible line, and internally she was furious. Why in Merlin's name did he do that? Doesn't he understand?
"How did you find out this information?"
"We—that is, James, Peter, and I—started looking for an explanation for Remus's disappearances during second year. We weren't satisfied that he actually was always going to visit his mother. Ultimately, we tracked his absences, wound up comparing them to the lunar calendar, and came to the obvious conclusion. We confronted him about it, and he told us the truth, but no specifics. As for the Willow . . . well, we followed him one day under James's Invisibility Cloak."
Evidently, Dumbledore had wondered the same thing McGonagall had. "And, Mr. Black, you know full well what is kept past the Willow during the time of the full moon—for instance, last night—correct?"
This time, Sirius managed to meet Dumbledore's gaze briefly before looking away. "Yes, sir."
"What ever possessed you to do such a thing?"
Sirius fidgeted nervously. "I didn't think," he mumbled.
"That," said Dumbledore crisply, "is painfully apparent." He was silent for a few moments. "Mr. Black, let it be known that I am highly disappointed in your actions. It is only through sheer luck, and the good conscience and admittedly rather heroic actions of Mr. Potter, that one or two more people are not, today, werewolves—or dead—as a result. I implore you, in the future— think." He paused again. "Minerva, I will leave the disposition of punishment to you."
Sirius gulped audibly. Snape smirked. McGonagall's lips pressed together even tighter.
Dumbledore spoke once again, this time a bit more calmly. "The five of you plus Mr. Pettigrew are the only students who I believe have discovered the truth of Remus's condition. This is five more than I ever intended. Now, I must ask you not to allow it to spread any further. Remus may tell anyone he wishes—it is, after all, his secret to tell. However, I must require that none of the rest of you disseminate it." The twinkle in his eyes was rather subdued. "Events like this would seem to tend to result."
"But sir," said Snape heatedly, "there's a werewolf at school! You can't keep endangering the students like that! Last night only proves he needs to be expelled! And all of the 'Marauders', for sneaking around!"
He became the new recipient of Dumbledore's stern gaze. "Severus, last night, no one would have been in danger if Mr. Black had not revealed that which he should not have, or if you had adhered to the dictum I have emphasized at every Opening Feast since Remus's arrival: stay away from the Whomping Willow. Your prejudices are unfounded; please do not allow them to color your actions."
Snape fell into a sullen silence.
"And now, your word?"
"I won't tell," he said resentfully.
"I won't tell about Remus," said James solemnly.
"I promise not to let Remus's lycanthropy become known," said Danger calmly.
"I won't tell," said Sirius miserably.
"Thank you. Mr. Potter, Mr. Black, you may leave with Professor McGonagall. Severus, you are free to go. Remus, Miss Granger, please remain here."
The two people Dumbledore had named walked in silence behind Professor McGonagall to her office. She ushered them inside with a scathing frown and shut the door.
I simply cannot believe them . . .
"Mr. Black," she said coldly, barely containing her fury, "I have never been so disappointed with a Gryffindor in my life. Your actions were unforgivably, terminally stupid." She closed her eyes briefly in contemplation and sighed. "One hundred points from Gryffindor, and detention every Saturday for the rest of term. Please leave my sight."
Sirius walked away with shuffling footsteps.
McGonagall's expression lost its ferocity as she turned to the other student there. "On the other hand, Mr. Potter, your actions exemplified the sort of bravery for which Gryffindor House is known, the sort I rarely see in its students. Forty points to Gryffindor for your actions, and please do try to ensure that they are not needed in the future."
"Thank you, Professor," he said softly as he, too, left.
Once both students were safely out of sight, McGonagall layered her door once again with Silencing and Locking Charms and collapsed into her chair.
It seems eventful days strike when we least hope for them.
I can only hope those Marauders learn from their mistakes . . .
After McGonagall left Dumbledore's office, the wise Headmaster turned to Remus. "Last night," he said lightly, "I found myself fancying a late-night stroll through the corridors. Would you care to guess what I saw?" Those blue eyes were finally back on high twinkle.
"Why don't you just tell us, Professor?" asked Danger a bit testily. She wasn't very familiar with the Headmaster's rather eccentric manner of interrogation.
"As you wish, Miss Granger. I saw two figures under two Invisibility Cloaks. One was a human. The other was not."
Remus gulped slightly.
"Could either of you shed some light on how and why a werewolf was wandering the halls of Hogwarts?"
Remus swallowed and opened his mouth, but Danger cut in before he could say anything. "With all due respect, Professor, Moony wasn't wandering anywhere. He was walking straight to Gryffindor Tower."
Dumbledore looked at her sharply. "Miss Granger, you know as well as I that werewolves are not reasoning creatures under the full moon. What you suggest is, if not impossible, highly unlikely."
"Oh, but this one is," she responded, grinning widely.
"And would you like to elaborate?"
At least he doesn't jump to conclusions.
"It's a power of mine that I discovered last night," Danger explained. "For lack of a better word, I'm a werewolf tamer—but only for Remus, I'm pretty sure. Physical contact after the transformation restores his human mind; physical contact throughout it prevents him from losing it in the first place. His transformation becomes like a forced Animagus, to the detail that he is still clothed after the moon sets."
"Intriguing, indeed," the old wizard said sagely, but Danger thought she saw a smile under his huge white beard . . . "I shall have to inform Madam Pomfrey; she has been harassing me with her worries ever since she went to the Shack and found you, Remus, not in it. I do wonder how the connection was formed . . . some sort of latent magical specificity increase, perhaps?"
"Er— Professor?"
"Ah, I apologize for the digression. Thank you for sharing this with me, Miss Granger. You and Remus are free to go."
They did so.
Dumbledore sat back in his chair and pondered the day's events.
Even with all my knowledge, there is much I do not understand.
Intriguing, indeed, that the majority of it seems to be centered around these two . . .
Lily walked through the library, books in hand. Ah, to find a quiet place to work on a Saturday . . . it's harder than it should be, honestly.
Sadly, all the tables were occupied. Lily was about to turn and leave, maybe work outside, when she spotted a familiar mop of messy black hair.
Let's see how much he's really changed . . .
"What's this?" she asked sarcastically. "James Potter doing homework? The world is at an end!"
Lily expected him to make some sort of indignant retort, maybe even try to curse her. Instead, he just looked at her sadly, almost wistfully, and asked, "Why do you hate me so much, Evans?"
She sighed and shook her head. "James—and by the way, there's nothing wrong with my first name—I don't hate you. Never have, in fact. I hated what you did. I—" She suddenly became conscious of someone's eyes upon her. Looking up, she saw Madam Pince looking distinctly the part of a vulture.
"Let's continue this conversation outside," she said. "Madam Pince is giving me one of her patented death glares."
"Okay, Lily." Good, at least he learns fast. James gathered his things and walked out of the library behind her.
"I have one question," he said once they were out of Pince's earshot.
"Ask away."
"If you don't hate me, where did this come from?" He put on a high falsetto. "'I'm surprised your broom can even get off the ground with that big head on it. You make me SICK!'"
Lily laughed. "Oh, that. Like I said, I hated what you were doing!"
"What do you mean?"
She swatted him gently on the back of the head. "James, you know very well what I mean. Until very recently, you were just about the world's biggest prat."
He sighed. "I guess you have a point. And I'm not anymore?"
"No, I think the fact that you didn't curse me twelve ways to Sunday when I told you the truth speaks for something," she responded with a laugh.
A few seconds' silence ensued, until James broke it. "Listen, Lily . . . I know I've been, as you so eloquently put it, the 'world's biggest prat' for a really long time. To you, to Snape, to the younger kids, to everyone. I think I realized that last night. After everything that happened, things I would have agonized over a few days ago just seemed so—trivial, I guess. We're at war. People are going to die. And there are a lot of things that really matter that I should be worrying about, not the weekly prank on Snape."
He took a deep breath and continued. "I guess what I'm trying to say is . . . I'm sorry, Lily. For how I've acted in the past. And I know you have absolutely no reason to forgive me, but still, if you could—"
Lily smiled. "I always knew there was a decent person hiding behind the arrogant prat," she said quietly. "This just proves it. And, for your information, that is what I hated—that you would try to be 'interesting' and wind up not being good because of it. You've changed, James. I forgive you."
James grinned fully for the first time since Lily had approached him. "Thanks, Lily," he said sincerely. "And if I promise not to ask you out every day, not to make a fool of myself—do you think we could spend more time together, like this, as friends?"
"I'd like that. And you don't have to be Mr. Perfect, you know. A bit of jokingness is rather endearing; just don't overdo it."
James frowned in mock contemplation. "Hmm, I think I might be able to manage that . . ."
The two teenagers burst out laughing.
Together.
(A/N: Sorry for the delay on this one, folks. There's this thing called "school" that's sapped most of my time lately . . . Updates will be once a week, at most, from now on.
Danger's werewolf taming power belongs to Anne Walsh / whydoyouneedtoknow. The wedding scene is based on Chapter 4 of "Living with Danger," by her.
And no, I don't plan to have each chapter longer than the last forever. They won't get much longer than this.
Next chapter: "Getting Closer," which takes us through the holidays . . . I'm reasonably sure it'll have at least one thing will surprise you.
Appreciate! Criticize! Suggest! I don't care what you do, just REVIEW!)