I don't own Harry Potter, and I'm doing this for fun, not profit. Please let that be a sufficient disclaimer!
...
"Really? You're sure?" came the surprised voice.
"Absolutely. Completely sure," came the confident reply.
"But, it's usually the other way round. Your family might be a bit upset," a concerned voice pointed out.
"Believe me, if I thought I could have gotten away with it, I'd have changed my name sooner," the voice replied with feeling.
"Really? Why?" came a confused question.
"Jen?"
"Yes, Rob?"
"I'm a police sergeant. And my name is Rob Banks. I catch criminals for a living, and my name is Rob Banks!" Rob explained, a pained expression on his face.
Jenny's eyes widened in realisation and she laughed.
"I might as well have just been named Steal Cash or Big Thief!" Rob exclaimed.
Jenny laughed for longer than Rob might have felt was appropriate. Eventually she stopped giggling, and turned to Rob with a look of love in her eyes. "Ok, ok. We can be Mr and Mrs Peach, if you really want."
...
The man looked fierce, and angry, but inside he was pleased. He had gained three new followers over the last month, which brought his group up to near fifty.
Of course, he then had to kill the idiot who had challenged him, thinking themselves the alpha. Well, the idiot's half-chewed corpse should put anyone else off, at least for a while.
Looking around the clearing in the woods where the pack – his pack – was currently based, Fenrir Greyback gave a snarl of satisfaction. It would be a full moon in just two days, and Greyback had led his pack, unnoticed, within a mile of a small German village. When the moon turned bright, and the pack transformed, a feast would be had of the village folk. Perhaps some more might be added to his number... if the werewolves weren't quite as hungry as usual.
Of course, sometimes meals come early. Greyback sniffed the air, detecting two delicious people walking right towards their slaughter. Greyback was surprised they had gotten so close without any of the pack having noticed them – they were a mere fifty metres away, just coming into the clearing. The wind must have been blowing towards them, carrying their scent in the other direction.
They were two men, Greyback saw, and as one of them tripped and fell onto all fours, Greyback predicted a particularly quick massacre. He would soon be proved right, in a sense.
...
Dumbledore and Moody had been tracking Greyback's pack for a day, and when the pack stopped at the clearing the wizards knew they wouldn't get a better opportunity.
Quick spells had already silenced their footsteps and hidden their scents, which had allowed the pair to get right up close to the pack.
"About fifty werewolves, Albus. You sure about this?" Moody asked in his usual gruff tone, from within a privacy bubble. He didn't doubt Dumbledore per se, but this looked to be a vicious fight they were gearing up for.
Dumbledore nodded, a grave expression on his face. "I don't doubt out chances, Alastor, but I regret the necessity of our actions, even with Fenrir and his pack," Dumbledore admitted.
"Even knowing what they're gonna do? Near that village, with the full moon so close? I'm glad to be taking out the scum," Moody replied with feeling.
Dumbledore closed his eyes for a moment, collected his thoughts, then opened his eyes and gave Moody a nod. "Remember, once the pack are incapacitated, we must use legilimency to check for any innocents," Dumbledore reminded Moody.
"Of course! I bet Greyback's pack is full of the nicest, kindest werewolves around," Moody replied sarcastically. Then, after Dumbledore gave him a pained expression, Moody grunted and replied, "Fine, fine. I bet we'll have a pile of corpses at the end, though. By the way, how do you plan on incapacitating a whole pack of werewolves?"
Dumbledore gave a slight smile as he answered enigmatically: "Transfiguration."
Dumbledore cast a spell to change his appearance, and Moody followed suit. Then, Dumbledore cast an anti-apparition ward, cancelled the charms which silenced his footsteps and masked his scent (with Moody again doing likewise), and walked into the clearing, Moody right beside him.
Dumbledore tripped and fell onto all fours, and Moody felt a minor twinge of panic as he hurried to help Dumbledore up, but as Dumbledore merely winked at him, Moony instead looked to the werewolves and prepared for battle.
...
Greyback had taken only a handful of eager steps towards the two intruders, when he felt himself slip and fall. No, wait – he hadn't fallen, he had sunk! He was up to his chest in something like mud! Hearing shouts of anger, Greyback turned his upper body and saw his entire pack trapped, attempting to wade through thick sludge. And then, barely ten seconds after he had fallen, the sludge turned to solid, heavy concrete.
Moody was impressed. Dumbledore had transfigured the very ground in front of them into a quagmire, starting from where his hands touched the floor. It had half-swallowed the werewolves, before Dumbledore then solidified the area into concrete. The werewolves were trapped until Dumbledore released them.
"At least two have wands, Alastor," began Dumbledore, standing up with effort. "Though they should be buried in concrete. Still, be careful."
Greyback could hear the two approaching, though the concrete stopped him from turning back to face them. He screamed in his anger, though his chest was tight and his breathing heavier than normal. "Let me out! I'll rip your arms off! I'll pull the flesh... from your bones... whilst you're still alive! I'll have my pack... feast on you while you... still breathe! I'll..."
"Legilimens," came a gruff voice that sounded familiar.
Greyback had never had anyone dare use the art on him before, aside from Voldemort himself, and the werewolf hadn't the patience or the inclination to protect him mind. As such, it was ripe pickings for Moody. Less than a minute later, and Moody had all the information he needed.
"Diffindo!" came an angry growl, and Greyback's head rolled off his shoulders and onto the floor.
Dumbledore and Moody checked the pack methodically, ignoring shouts and cries and instead relying on memories to judge. Dumbledore was saddened to find only two 'innocent' werewolves – ones who hadn't deliberately participated in the grisly murders the others had – though that was perhaps because they were new enough not to have had the opportunity. But what should he do with them?
Moody, however, fared differently. "Well bugger me! I've got a mind you might want to look at," Moody called over, as Dumbledore had finished his half of the interrogations.
Dumbledore hoped for better news; surely not the whole pack was irredeemable?
"Please! I am not like the others! Read my mind, please!" came an accented, and desperate, voice.
Dumbledore acquiesced, and found himself reliving an enlightening memory.
"It's a high risk operation, Reiner. Some would call it suicide."
"I know. But if it gets us a shot at Greyback, it's worth it. He needs to be stopped before he kills any more."
"... I don't like it. I feel like I'm sending you to your death. But you've got approval from the boss. If you really want to do this..."
"I do. I need to."
Dumbledore removed himself from the man's mind, and found that Moody had finished dealing with his last werewolf.
"So? Was that what it looked like? I don't speak German," Moody admitted with a hint of impatience.
The man, who had been waiting with bated breath (breath that was beginning to become laboured from being encased in concrete), panicked. "I can explain! Wait! I'm from the Deutsch Ministry! I..." he began, though was interrupted as the concrete around him loosened.
Dumbledore nodded, elaborating as he gave the man a hand up. "It is as this man, Reiner, said: he infiltrated the pack at great personal risk, all in an attempt to stop Greyback – even though he expected to fail."
Moody looked Reiner in the eye, gave a nod of respect, and just said, "Good man."
"Who are you two?" Reiner asked, awed.
"A nightmare to those of the dark," Moody replied with a satisfied, albeit menacing, look.
"And the fellows who hope they can leave the other two werewolves in your care. They have yet to commit a crime deserving of death," Dumbledore added.
Reiner knew he had no choice in the matter, but he didn't mind; in fact, he was glad he could do something to help. He watched as one of the men took down the anti-apparition wards, then turned to leave.
However, a loud crack had all three turn round and Reiner saw a figure in muted purple robes standing amongst the dead werewolves.
"No! How dare you!" spoke the figure in an angry, unfamiliar voice, and the man fired a slew of spells – easily deflected by Reiner's new friends – before return fire made the man turn and flee the scene.
"Who was that?!" Reiner asked, looking around for more threats.
Moody, who would congratulate Albus on his brilliance later, forced a grim look onto his face and replied, "Couldn't see under the mask. But he spoke English, so you should probably let the British Ministry know."
And with that, Reiner watched as the two figured disapparated.
...
Harry had been excited about the day, but he was quickly concluding: weddings were a bit boring.
Oh, he was glad Rob and his mummy were getting married, and he liked the cake, but... well...
The man at the front had talked for a bit too long; the man with the camera had made him stand still and smile quite a lot; there was a lot of waiting for the next thing to happen; and there were lots of strangers who all seemed to want to talk to him and ask him the same questions (was he the Harry? Was he enjoying the day? Was he excited about getting a new daddy?).
The worst part of the day for Harry could have been how busy Jenny and Rob were, but plans had been put in place: Jenny's brother and parents made sure Harry wasn't ignored, and as for Sirius and Remus (who had gotten invitations), they showered him with attention.
Speaking of Sirius and Remus, Harry had been looking forward to the wedding but also to the days after the wedding: for when the day was over and Jenny and Rob said goodbye to the guests (with an extra long hug goodbye to Harry) and left on their honeymoon, Harry could begin his whole week of sleepovers with Uncle Sirius and Uncle Remus.
...
The wedding has ended late, and Sirius put Harry straight to bed after they got back, so it wasn't until the next day that the fun and excitement could properly start.
"What are we going to do this week?" asked an excited Harry as he ate the chocolate cake which Uncle Sirius had declared suitable for breakfast.
Sirius, pausing between bites of his own slice of breakfast, replied thoughtfully. "Well, Moony and I have a few plans, but you'll get to choose some things to do too. We thought you could go flying again tomorrow..."
"YES!" interrupted Harry, the seven-year-old's excitement fuelled by his current sugar rush.
"... but maybe today we can start teaching you some magic," continued Sirius with a grin on his face.
"I CAN START LEARNING MAGIC?!" Harry all-but shouted.
At this point, Remus appeared. He took one look at Sirius' idea of a breakfast, rolled his eyes, and put the kettle on. "Morning, Harry. I see Sirius continues to be the absolute worst influence," Remus commented nonchalantly.
Sirius grinned and gave Remus a big thumbs-up, whilst Harry decided to ask the (usually) more sensible adult the important question: "Uncle Remus, am I really going to start learning magic?!" Harry asked, still buzzing with excitement.
Remus, who was now busy with the important task of making the day's first pot of tea, replied as he moved around Sirius' kitchen. "That's right. Though it has to be something that doesn't really use a wand; you can't get your own wand until you turn eleven, after all."
Harry looked a little deflated. "So no cool spells or anything?" he asked.
Sirius put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Don't worry, there's plenty of cool magic we can start teaching you without you having to have a wand," he reassured.
"Like what?" Harry asked, interested.
"Well, we thought about teaching you potions, they're useful..." Remus began.
"...but then we asked your new mum what you're good at, at school..." Sirius continued.
"...and she said you were good at maths and French, right?" Remus asked.
Confused, Harry just nodded. He wasn't going to learn magical maths, was he?
"Well, languages are best learnt when you're young, so Jen says, and there are really cool magical symbols we can teach you how to read," Remus began.
Harry looked a bit sceptical. His uncles were usually more fun than this.
"And then we can teach you how to put those runes on things to make them explode!" Sirius added with all the excitement of a certified pyromaniac.
Harry's grin from a couple of minutes ago made a reappearance – that was much more like his crazy Uncle Sirius! "What's the magic called?" Harry asked.
"The subject's called Ancient Runes, but we'll eventually throw in some Arithmancy since you're good at maths, as the two subjects work well together," Remus explained, "though Arithmancy will be when you're older."
...
Harry had been impressed when Sirius made one of his teacups explode. Remus had been less impressed, but that was mainly as he still had a third of a cup of tea in it at the time. Still, Remus saw the funny side – considering the small explosion sent the tea into Sirius' lap, not his.
Sirius was impressed with how quickly Harry was memorising the different runic symbols they were covering – it had taken him longer to pick them up himself, but then he had been an awful student. Also, it seemed kids really did pick up languages more quickly the younger they were, just like Jenny had said.
Remus was impressed too, and wondered whether it would be worth suggesting to Dumbledore that Ancient Runes be taught earlier at Hogwarts. Or maybe there were opportunities to teach it pre-Hogwarts? A thought for another day.
...
Harry enjoyed his day of learning Runes and seeing Sirius explode things, but it was the next day he was looking forward to more – a day of flying! Sirius and Remus had taken him flying a few times, though he'd not seen his witch friend since the first time. But maybe if he was there the whole day he would?
The three arrived at the Quidditch training pitch opened, and found themselves the only ones there. Harry wished he could see his friend again – or maybe make new friends – but that didn't stop him from gleefully taking his broom to the air and racing around the pitch at top speed. And when Sirius and Remus decided to start a game a aerial tag, Harry knew it was going to be a good day.
...
The girl had managed to convince her dad that they should go flying again, even though they had only gone last week. The girl was hoping her friend would be there, and they could spend some time flying together.
So, whilst it was still morning (though only just), the girl excitedly grabbed her things and prepared for a day at the Quidditch training ground, dad in tow.
The girl felt the horrible sensation of side-along apparition, and she spent a few seconds letting the queasy feeling subside. Her dad rubbed her back understandingly, knowing it would help a little, before smiling as his girl stood up fully and reached for her broom.
"Stomach settled?" the dad asked.
"Yep!" the girl nodded, then grabbed his hand to drag him towards the stands.
She hadn't got more than a few steps when she spotted her friend. Or, more accurately, her friend spotted her. The girl watched as her friend flew top speed towards her, only slowing down when she got in shouting distance.
"Alicia! You're here!" cried the excited friend.
"Hi, Angelina! I managed to convince my dad to come flying today,", Alicia declared entirely unnecessarily.
"So that's why you wanted to fly so badly: So you could practise with Angelina again!" Alicia's dad interjected, now understanding her daughter's persistence.
"Of course! Angelina and I are going to be professional Quidditch players together when we're grown-ups!" Alicia declared.
"The best!" Angelina agreed.
Alicia's dad smiled. "With the amount you practise, I'm sure you will be. Now have fun, and don't go too crazy! I'll be sat with Angelina's dad, ok?"
...
Harry had seen the two girls practising together, and knew they were good. He didn't quite know how good, but it was obvious from his occasional glances that they were good on their brooms. Harry didn't give it too much thought, though, as he had a snitch to find.
Alicia and Angelina had also noticed Harry, though they weren't impressed with his flying. No, 'impressed' did not do justice to how awed they were at the flying of the small boy.
"He's amazing!" Alicia gushed from the other side of the pitch, as she stopped for some water.
Angelina nodded. "You should have seen him earlier – he caught one of the snitches in about five minutes!"
Alicia looked to her friend nervously and asked, "Should we go say hello?"
Angelina was about to agree, but Fate decided otherwise. "Angelina! Alicia! You're both here!"
"Katie!" came the thrilled response.
...
Harry, who was high up in the air scanning for the snitch like Remus had taught him, saw when Katie arrived, and saw as she raced to the other two girls and excitedly hugged them. He wondered whether he should go and say hello, but before he'd made up his mind the two dads had wondered over and after another minute (and after another hug each from Katie), the two new girls and their dads had disappeared.
Harry had flown down to his uncles to see if he could go say hello to Katie when he heard an excited "HARRY!" from behind. He turned with a smile, and before he knew what was happening he had received what would be his first of many Katie hugs.
"I'm so glad you're here! I didn't see you when you were up in the sky, but then I did, and I was hoping to see you again!" Katie excitedly declared, before finally releasing Harry from her warm clutches.
"Hi, Katie! I'm glad too!" Harry replied, smiling.
Katie hugged him again for good measure, then asked the important question: "Shall we practise together?"
...
By the end of the day, Sirius was disappointed. Not by Harry's flying, or by him getting along so well with his new friend. No, Sirius was disappointed because Harry, being only seven, wasn't anywhere near the age where he could be teased about a girl hugging him like that.
"You're wishing he was a few years older so you could tease him, aren't you?" accused Remus with a knowing smile.
"My dear Moony, what a horrible accusation! Of course I was!" Sirius replied dramatically.
Remus chuckled, shaking his head; sometimes his friend was entirely too predictable!
...
The week ended all too quickly, and soon Remus had dropped Harry back off home, to welcome back his mum and new dad.
Jenny had loved her time alone with Rob – a precious commodity when raising a child – but she had sorely missed Harry. And given that, once Remus had left, Harry was glued to her side just like the first few days (or had it been weeks?) after he first came to live with her, Jenny knew Harry had missed her too.
Rob might have felt a little left out, but when Jenny disentangled Harry from around her so she could use the bathroom, Harry made a beeline for Rob, climbing into his lap, giving him a big hug, and declaring "I love you, R... I mean, daddy."
...
For Harry, the first year of having a new daddy flew past. He loved having Rob around all the time, and quickly got used to the extra attention he was getting. He had even got to go on his first holiday with his mummy and daddy just before he turned eight, to a big forest with houses in the middle, and a really big water park too, and shops, and other exciting things! And he had a squirrel come right up close to him!
During the year he had also spent lots of time with his two magical uncles, learning Ancient Runes, practising flying, and being very silly – like when Uncle Remus made Uncle Sirius' chair turn into a pigeon.
Harry had also seen Katie a few more times, and the last time Sirius suggested they could write to each other, using the muggle postman (Katie's mum didn't want her to send owls when she heard Harry's mum and dad were muggles).
...
For Dumbledore, the year had been a time of further planning with Moody, as well as reflection. Dumbledore knew he wasn't able to adequately fulfil three jobs whilst also removing Voldemort's followers. However, he didn't want to just quit one of his jobs, as that could raise suspicion.
The answer came a day after he and Moony had ended Crabbe Senior, making it look like a drunken bar fight that had ended tragically. Dumbledore was in his Hogwarts office when Amelia Bones had summoned him to the DMLE.
"Dumbledore, I need your help," Bones had begun without preamble.
"What with, Amelia?" He had replied.
"A possible serial killer, at best," Amelia had answered.
"And at worst?" Dumbledore had asked.
Bones had taken a deep breath, then answered in a near-whisper, "The return of He-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named."
Dumbledore's eyebrows rose. Perhaps he would be giving up at least one of his roles soon indeed!
...
Author Notes:
Thanks to the indomitable Red Renera for being my shield against sloppy mistakes. A stout shield, then – Red.
Also thanks to Can't touch this22, who suggested an idea for this story several months ago. As you can see, I'm running with the idea!
A huge thank you to everyone who is enjoying this story as I write it, and who let me know by favouriting or following. And special thanks to the heroes who review: Cleddyf, bdwilliams3, SiriusOrionBitch, magitech, gingin1975, welcome007 (x6), alix33, amortentiate, JAIMOL and michaelc100.
Magitech – wait and see (or PM me for spoilers!) regarding Snape and Hogwarts...
Alix33 – ah, well spotted! I'll fix that when I take a moment to make the other corrections!
Amortentiate – ah, that's not how I intended it to come across. I may go back and tweak a few parts with Elisabeth Bell; in my mind, she's not keen on seeing her daughter play a notoriously dangerous sport, and to a lesser extent she doesn't enjoy seeing other people get injured... but that needs to come out of my head and go down on paper! I'll have a think about Hermione, though I don't want the story getting too crowded; I'm more likely to bring more focus to A and A, but I'll give H some thought.