Heeeeeeey, long time no type! Sorry. I hit a roadblock, but then I found another route. I attempted foreshadowing, dunno if it worked. My fingers are tired. Enjoy.
There was another wolf on Chessie's mental list. Bartender had agreed almost immediately upon hearing who it was.
So far, the secret resistance force and spy network consisted of Chessie, Bartender, and Daisy. The other children were now-and-then operatives; only when necessary. There wasn't much being said out loud, in case someone overheard, but there were whispers. Chessie couldn't be everywhere at once hearing everything at once, despite her best efforts, and today was an important day.
Her first six weeks were up.
She and Tonks had dueled out how long she would take to adjust to the wolves. Tonks had been optimistic, Verity the closet bibliophile had been attacking the small bookstore next door to no avail and had admitted defeat, frustrated and clueless. Chessie had been inclined towards pessimism, but they all finally agreed on six weeks, and then meet on the edge of London at a certain little park the first day it rains after that, so scent and small sounds weren't easily heard.
But before she left to see Tonks- the clouds overhead were a stormy grey and the breeze kicking up fall leaves was clean and sharp- she had to go recruit Burt. Her thin t-shirt did nothing to shield her from the wind, and she sincerely hoped that winter would be brief and dry. Doubtful.
Burt was doing brute work, hauling firewood for what looked like months of bonfires, along with a few other of the larger werewolves whose butts she had kicked back in her third new life. Well, that's what she kept referring to this…sentence…as.
Burt used his large hairy hand, which was about the size of a small child, it seemed, to wipe some sweat off his face, and he saw Chessie from the corner of his eyes. He dropped the axe he'd been using in case Chessie got ideas and straightened up, running one of his large hands through his thick dark hair to get most of it out of his face.
"I'm sorry I hit you," he said in a low rumble before Chessie could speak.
"I- er, what?" she was confused.
"Back in the pub. I'm sorry I hit you. But don't tell anybody. I'm not supposed to be sorry." He actually looked anxious, as though despite their large size differences she was going to throw him bodily over her knees and spank him.
"Oh, yes…don't worry about that, it's long past. My nose is all better, see?"
Burt leaned in and studied Chessie's nose. She tried to not lean away but couldn't fight it, not with seven feet of pure werewolf muscle literally in her face. Simpleminded or not, Burt was still intimidating. And smelly.
"Okay," he decided, thankfully backing up to the woodpile and tossing logs onto it like twigs.
Chessie stood there and watched, trying to be patient. It did not come easily. The wind blew again, gustier this time, and there was a soft rumble of thunder in the distance. Right, I know, Chessie thought irritably, I'm going to be late. She hadn't counted on Burt being quite this simple. Under other circumstances it would be calming, but not today. She had to go.
"Burt," Chessie began, knotting her hair behind her head after a small battle. It had passed bad within days of joining the pack, had passed birdsnest, and was rapidly approaching atomic disaster. "Do you…are you happy?"
He paused mid-stroke and stared thoughtfully upwards at the darkened clouds. Another rumble of thunder rolled ominously in the not-so-far distance. Chessie tried to convey interest in Burt's happiness or whatever he was feeling, but inside she was bouncing around insanely, mental clock ticking.
"I think so, yeah. Mostly." Bur decided. He was slow, but not stupid. It just took him longer to think things through, but eventually he'd reach the same conclusion, if not a slightly better one, as a regular average person.
Chessie paused. "Really? You don't want…I dunno, more food or…a roof over your head or something? Most people find that sort of thing important."
Burt glanced up to the boiling sky again to think. Chessie sighed.
"Look, I need to get back to the kids, I'll talk to you more later. Think about it, okay? But don't tell anyone." She instinctively went into the mode she used with the children when no one was looking. It seemed right. "If you tell, you might get in trouble. And we don't want that, do we?"
Burt nodded, still pondering. Chessie disappeared into the forest surrounding as the storm broke.
Tonks was idly leaning against a tree flipping through a copy of the Daily Prophet. Although it was raining earnestly, the tree she was under was thick and it kept her mostly dry. Chessie glomped up through mud and muck, mixed between annoyance that Tonks was so calm and content when Chessie had been literally starving, and sheer joy that the rest of the world was still there, that it hadn't disappeared and left only misery ad hunger, or worse, had only been a dream. The wetness in her eyes, for a moment, wasn't entirely rainwater. But it was only a moment.
"Oy," she said seriously to get the Auror's attention. Tonks looked up suddenly.
"I didn't hear you." What she meant was, "You came."
"No," Chessie tried to thin the mud covering her from the hips down, since cleaning it off would be impossible and fairly pointless at this point. She stayed in the rain, soaking.
"I…wasn't expecting you to show up. Would you like some M&Ms?"
She held out her hand and revealed half a bag of M&Ms. Chessie took it but didn't eat them. Maybe Daisy and Hope and the lads would like some. Their hunger was a little more important than her own.
"Things are…not good," Chessie started. "There's no food or permanent shelter- any shelter, really- and um… no baths or showers. Sorry if I stink." The rain had washed most of the mud off her skin, at least, and she moved under the tree and out of the storm. "There's about two dozen- maybe three dozen- werewolves. I can't be precise, there's never a point when everyone's there together. They're mostly busy finding food and temporary shelters and, er, other things men like to do in privacy in their spare time. There are children."
Tonks, whose gaze had been on Chessie during the conversation, frowned. "Children?" she asked wearily.
"Yeah," Chessie was glad she'd gotten used to the idea of children being subjected to this, so her voice no longer broke when she said it. "There's ten of them, but six are still relatively sane. Normal even. Mostly. Er, all the children are between six and…oh, fifteen-ish, but the non-feral kids are…the oldest one is eleven."
She leaned against the tree beside Tonks.
"Is it worth trying?" the Auror wondered quietly as her hair turned long and black to fit the mood better, and the storm raged around them. The lightning display was quite lovely, if one was into possible electrocution in sacrifice for witnessing beauty.
"Yes," Chessie's conviction surprised her. "It's worth it. I've already got something started. Unburying that seed of discontent in a few- I've got a mental list of everyone who could be persuaded or bribed to switch sides to Lupin, and you'd be surprised at it's size. But…I mean, I understand how stupid this sounds, I think. It is stupid. Suicidally. But the results I'm getting are much more than I thought of even in optimistic moments."
"Why? You didn't give a rat's ass about anyone only two months ago. What happened to change that? The old you was mildly intimidating, but Chessie With A Purpose is…It's an improvement, mind you. And it's also nice to know you still think coherently. I think I like Chessie With A Purpose a tad better than regular old Chessie, but as an Auror I have to ask, 'why?'."
Chessie frowned. Because of the look on the children's' faces when Greyback strides by. Because of how Hope and Daisy have new bruises when I'm not around to protect them. Because of how nobody else will protect them. Because of the expression on Bartender's face when I mention family. So many reasons. And the fact that you'd understand would only make it worse.
"Just…let me worry about that," was what came out in the end. She'd managed to stay in eye contact with Tonks- gold eyes watching brown, and vice versa, but dropped her gaze to look at anything else but Tonks' face because even though she hadn't said much of anything, Tonks still understood, damn her. The Prophet caught her eyes from Tonks' hands.
"What's this about?" she asked, taking the paper from her.
"Oh, gas leaks, mysterious disappearances, wanted ads, the usual. Oh, that one. The jail thing."
"I heard something about that…some time back. In passing." Out of nowhere the Shiny Teacup and Mary, all in a nice little denial of reality package, flashed through her mind. "What is it?"
"Scrimegoer's been building a werewolf jail in North England. It's nearly done, according to the article. I shouldn't tell you this…" she hesitated, "…but you need to know, so I'm going to anyway. In early spring, pretty much as soon as the snow melts, I'm not exactly sure, the Ministry- Scrimegoer, really- is ordering a… retrieval of feral werewolves on a grand scale."
"A retrieval?" Chessie didn't get the euphemism. Scanning that article didn't help either, it was pretty biased.
"Well, more of a mop-up by the Unmentionables. Arrest and jail those they can, massacre those they can't. Sort of a lose-lose situation, really."
"But they don't know where we are, do they?"
"No, that's why they didn't do it in the fall. No, don't tell me, either."
A small alarm rang somewhere on Tonks' person. "That's my break. I need to et back to work now. It was comforting to see you. Two weeks, first rainfall?"
"Sure," Chessie agreed, and Tonks disapparated, leaving her alone in the storm with a soggy newspaper.