"Dad?" There, he'd let himself say it – what has he to fear? Snape says he can now produce a formidable shield and hide things discretely. He can say and do whatever he wants. He reminds himself to once in a while call his Dad 'the man' or 'sir' so he'll have memories to feed Voldemort, should he need to. But right now, he's enjoying the way the man – his Dad – jumps in his chair and spills cereal all over him. Emma is sitting with a spoon, full of oatmeal, frozen halfway to her mouth. His Mum is smiling quietly behind her newspaper, as if she'd been expecting this very thing. His Dad is coughing now, trying to look at him seriously and kindly and casually and messing the image up horribly with his coughing and wide eyes.
"Erm, yes Dubhán?"
"I was thinking, sir: since I can protect my mind now, I'd like to be called Devlin again. I got used to it when Snape kept calling me that. It's a nice name." He looks down at his hands.
"That's wonderful!" Harry says and almost flings his arms around Dubhán –Devlin- only to stop in sudden realization. "Erm, sorry." Devlin inclines his head in acknowledgement. He looks up into his father's eyes and sees the sadness in them, and Devlin finds he really does care, not a little, but a lot, what he's thinking and feeling. He gets up, while Harry is busy looking at Alex, and climbs into his lap. He feels as if he's probably far to old for this type of thing, but when Harry's arms wrap around him and his breath comes hot and comforting by his neck, Devlin can't help but sink into the embrace.
0-O-0-0-O-0-0-O-0-0-O-0-0-O-0
One night, when Dubhán is on the cusp of sleep, he hears footsteps. His wolf ears perk up just at the same moment that Zee's do. Together they stare at the door. Together they walk lightly towards it and together, they listen. The footsteps are far too light to be a grown mans and there only seems to be one pair. Together Dubhán and Zee relax a millimeter.
The footsteps are closer and then they're turning a knob – his Mum and Dad's bedroom door. They tense together, giving each other the briefest of looks. Zee is fidgeting with his front lets and he lets the briefest sound escape his mouth. Oddly, he doesn't seem that concerned anymore. He's fidgeting more like he's worried for another reason. Dubhán turns back to the door.
"Mummy?" He hears a voice say, Emma's voice. He sighs. But what is she doing? He listens as she tells them she's had a nightmare and he listens to her weeping and their comforting, all with a morbid type of fascination. Finally Zee's impatience pulls him away from the door and back into bed. He dare not transform. He knows he'll dream of pretty blue eyes.
0-O-0-0-O-0-0-O-0-0-O-0-0-O-0
Sirius and Lupin and the bushy haired girl who he knows is Hermione, and a redheaded man he has never met, come over to dinner one night. They all call him Devlin and he finds his mind spinning with the name, and he finds he likes it. Lupin sits near him and every once in a while Devlin will pull on his shirt and ask him a whispered question about someone at the table or something they're talking about. Lupin always answers. He realizes he's beginning to think of Lupin as his Geoffrey and the thought makes him linger on his old Guard.
"What happened to Geoffrey?" He hadn't meant to say the words; they spilled past his tongue with such speed that he hadn't been aware they'd transferred from his mind to the world until everyone turns to him at once. He shrinks under the regards. His Dad clears his throat.
"He's being held at Hogwarts, for his own safety." Potter looks around the table, observing the awkward silence.
"Has he…asked about me?" The redhead, Ronald, begins fidgeting with his plate; giving Harry glances that Harry seems intent not to answer.
"I, ah, haven't spent much time with him, Devlin."
"Are they torturing him? If he brought me to you, you probably don't need to do that to get information from him…" His brow is knitted tightly together and his little face seems so concerned and certain that they must be torturing him. As if it is a common thing to do. Harry swallows and looks away, making his decision.
"No, we're not. Ron could tell you more. He shares guard duty with some others."
Devlin's eyes swerve over to Ron and Ron pales under the scrutiny. Harry knows Ron wants some direction from him about what to talk about and what not to talk about, but Harry knows he can't give that to him in front of Devlin.
"Is he okay?" Devlin asks first and Ron gives a sharp nod, his mouth full of food.
"Yeah, we're treating him alright, kiddo. He's a bit bored, but I played chess with him."
"He doesn't like chess. He is very poor at it."
"He did say that. But it's one of the only games I know how to summon from Hogwarts."
"Oh." He moves his food around a bit. "Has he said anything about me?"
"His usual guards aren't, erm, family friends so whenever I'm there, or ah, certain others are, he tries to pry whatever information he can from us – course nicely! But, I've only just met you tonight so I couldn't do much for him. Told him Harry can't stop talking about you and he says you're doing well – that type of thing. Think he was hoping for more first hand information, if you know what I mean." His voice trails off. Devlin nods and doesn't bring it up again.
Everyone eats dinner and makes quiet small talk and then moves to the living room where the adults play some card games and Sirius and Devlin and Emma play 'who can catch the snitch' until Alex tells them to stop running in the house. Devlin thinks she waited until he'd gotten one point ahead of Sirius and he sends her a secret smile from where she is talking to Hermione. Ron and Lupin are the first to leave, then Hermione and finally Sirius. With the floo powder in his hand he pauses and turns. "Hey Harry, are you guys going to be at the annual Ministry Ball? I know you practically have to go, but didn't know if you wanted me to kid-sit for you?"
"Actually, we're hoping to all go this year. I'll owl you about it." And thus Devlin had something new to occupy his thoughts.
0-O-0-0-O-0-0-O-0-0-O-0-0-O-0
Dumbledore is standing in his bedroom, warding it. Devlin watches him nervously. Potter is beside him, doing the same. They had said something about wards needing renewing and how they hadn't been since Devlin was four. Devlin knows what they really mean: it's almost your Moon-Day and we don't trust you even with Wolfsbane. It sits, freshly brewed by Severus Snape, on his bedside table. He can't remember ever transforming alone…
When Dumbledore is done helping him he comes over and tries to talk to him about candy, but Devlin associates candy with potions and so they don't really interest him. And he hates the feeling of socks.
"Well then, my boy, how about your studies? I must say you're the first eight year old with a wand I've ever met." The words take Potter, still on the other side of the room, a moment to process and then he's spinning around quickly.
"He doesn't have a wand, Albus," Harry says dismissively although Devlin can hear the doubt creeping at the edge of his voice.
"Well of course he does! It's right there in his pocket, although that is a wonderful concealment charm, no doubt." Devlin cringes and, knowing he is caught, pulls the wand out. Potter is all at once outraged, surprised, and sad. The emotions in his eyes unsettle Devlin. He wonders how to measure their disappointment. How is he to tell how in trouble he is in by those eyes?
"Devlin, you should have told me that!"
"I was keeping it a secret incase I needed it." To escape…
"If you had used it, the ministry would have known." Devlin shakes his head.
"No, sir. It's charmed to be untraceable. Please don't take it…I do know how to defend myself with it…" Potter seems to take a deep breath.
"A wand for the boy wouldn't be amiss, Harry, if he does indeed know how to use one…but this one may have different tracing charms on it." Devlin frowns. He hadn't thought of the wand that way at all and suddenly he shoves it onto his bedside table, horrified.
In the end Dumbledore takes it with him to check if it is free of magical tracers and promises to bring it back if it is clean.
0-O-0-0-O-0-0-O-0-0-O-0-0-O-0
They are letting him see Geoffrey. He swallows nervously as his father leads him through Hogwarts. He had said they were going to the Headmaster's office and when they finally reach a door guarded by stone gargoyles, he is sure they have reached their destination.
Devlin walks onto the staircase when Harry opens the door, but his father stops him. "They move by themselves," he says and keeps a hand on Devlin's shoulder, steadying him. The weight on his shoulder keeps him rooted in reality.
The door at the top looks foreboding, but Devlin knows that is only because he knows what lay behind it. His father opens the door without any hesitation and gives Devlin a little push into the office.
Geoffrey is sitting in front of a large desk, talking softly to Dumbledore, seated behind the desk. When his father shuts the door, Geoffrey's eyes spin around and he smiles.
"Dubhán!" He almost shouts. Devlin doesn't bother to correct him. He retreats a little, feeling childish and nervous. He had told his father, yesterday, that he had wanted to see Geoffrey. He'd pleaded and whined and used the word 'Daddy' which seemed to make Harry agree to anything these days. And he had relented, but only after Devlin had promised to be polite, not to call him a traitor, and to keep a level head. And he had meant what he had said. But right now Devlin can't help but feel conflicted and so he glares defensively, uncertainly, and nervously. Could he really forgive Geoffrey? He'd done something Devlin hadn't wanted him too, even if now Devlin could see his point of view.
"Devlin, be polite," his father whispers in his ear. 'Polite' is always the word he seems to use whenever he really means 'stop being so wolfish'. Devlin knows he love him, despite the fact that he's a werewolf, but he also thinks Remus wasn't entirely right when he said Harry was so different from Remus's own parents. Devlin rather thought it pained his father every time his behavior reminded him and he also rather thought that he'd like it better if he were the type of werewolf Remus was, or the Healer. But he wasn't a dog! He turns to look at Potter and growls lowly.
"No," he says gruffly.
Harry looks out of his comfort zone. He obviously doesn't know what to do, even though he knows from Devlin's own words that he doesn't want to be coddled. That he needs some direction. That he wasn't supposed to simply let him do this.
Harry still remembers last Thursay's dinner: when he had jokingly told Emma that he "was the boss of this family" when she had turned to her mother to ask if 'Daddy was allowed to let Devlin fly on a broom'. Devlin had turned to him, entirely too serious, and said "No you're not."
Trying to dispel the seriousness about him, Harry had said, "well then who do you think is the boss?" Devlin had looked between Alex and himself and finally said: "I don't think there is a boss. Not of me."
But how is he supposed to be a boss to a werewolf? Emma certainly knew he and Alex were her bosses, but Devlin didn't, because what conveyed that to Emma didn't convey the same to Devlin. Devlin didn't care if you took things from him, or sent him to his room, or made him write lines. These were all punishments, but they didn't tell him who was the boss. When Harry had sent him to his room for calling Hermione a Mudblood Devlin had asked, "why?" and he had said, "Because I'm your father." And then, looking hurt and uncertain and so much more like the four year old that been taken from him, he had said: "Anyone can punish me. Anyone can hurt me."
Over on the other side of the room, Geoffrey rises from his chair and comes over. He grabs hold of Devlin's hand and spins him around to face him. For a moment Harry feels the desperate need to pull the boy back towards him and hug him to his chest – that anyone who touches him might take him from him again. He shakes himself and tries to listen to what Geoffrey is saying.
He is glaring at Devlin as he drags him over to a chair. Even as the words "sit down" leave his mouth, he doesn't give the child a chance to sit down; he picks him up and sits him down. Harry would have crouched at Devlin's eye level to talk to him about his behavior, but Geoffrey stands up straighter, towering over the child almost purposefully.
"What did he say to you?" Harry waits for Devlin's low growl, but it never comes. Those piercing eyes lower and he begins to fidget with his hands.
"He said to be polite," he whispers.
"And what did you do?" There is no anger in Geoffrey's voice, but there also isn't any kindness.
"I…I said no."
"I didn't ask what you said. I asked what you did."
"I growled."
"Is he a werewolf?" The boy frowns slightly and then shakes his head. "What do you imagine your behavior meant to him?"
"That I was going to hurt him?"
"Certainly that you didn't wish to follow his direction."
"But…"
"That word but isn't part of this. Explain yourself in an organized way."
"I wasn't being impolite!" Devlin says sharply.
"Mr. Potter, was Dubhán being impolite, in your opinion?" Harry had been so mesmerized by the way Devlin interacted with Geoffrey, that he is surprised to be dragged into the act.
"Well, yes," he says. "He was glaring at you. He was the one who asked to see you."
"Dubhán, explain to Mr. Potter your defense."
"Glaring at Geoffrey wasn't impolite, sir. I wasn't being mean. I was just showing my uncertainty."
"Well then why did you growl at me!"
"Because whenever you say: "be polite" that's not what you mean!" He takes a deep breath. "You mean: "stop being so wolfish" and you promised I could be myself, so I said no, because you weren't keeping your promise!"
Harry is tries to process the information; meanwhile Geoffrey turns the boy to look at him again.
"Dubhán?" The boy nods. "We can say a lot to each other while saying and doing very little, but Mr. Potter isn't the same way. You have to pause and say the things that are running through your head to him. Instead of translating the thought "no, I'm going to be myself, you said I could" into wolf language, say it out loud instead. Go back and try it again."
"Yes, Geoffrey." He slinks back to the door, stands his body next to Harry and looks up at the man. In a stage whisper he says "Geoffrey means we have to pretend to do it again, all of it." Too surprised at Devlin's tone of voice and kind look, Harry simply nods.
Again, the stage whisper: "You have to say the polite thing again, while I glare at Geoffrey".
So Harry Potter, the Boy-who-lived, the Savior of the Wizarding World, and Head Auror, acts out the scenario again. Only this time when he whispers: "Devlin, be polite," Devlin doesn't begin growling at him. Instead he says back, softly but deadly.
"You said I could be myself. I'm not being impolite to Geoffrey, it's wolf-talk."
"I'll trust you, but if Geoffrey says he is uncomfortable, then you will owe everyone in the room an apology." Devlin seems to consider the bargain and then nods in agreement.
"Yes, sir."
Harry breaks away from their gaze, and begins talking to Dumbledore. Harry can feel the boys gaze on his back, soft and considering, but Harry is to afraid to mess up the almost-perfectly-normal father-son moment that had just occurred, so he lets Geoffrey and Devlin sort themselves out. Inside he's thinking of how he's going to tell Alexandra. He smiles, despite the serious conversation Dumbledore is telling him about.
"I missed you, Geoffrey," Devlin says, slinking next to the sitting man. When he's sitting, Devlin can pretend they stand eye-to-eye.
"I missed you too, Dubhán. How was your Moon-day?"
The full moon had been less then a week ago, and Geoffrey knows that means the wolf is especially strong in both of them. Still, not even his wolf predicted that Devlin would crawl up onto his lap and lay his head against his chest and sigh in that puppy-ish way.
"It's just me. All alone. It's cold. And I whine all night. Emma says so. He won't put up a silencing charm, so I know everyone hears me crying, like I'm a baby." There are tears forming at his eyes. Geoffrey looks at them in bewilderment. He's never seen Dubhán cry. Perhaps Devlin was not as lost as he had once thought. He lays a hand on the boy's head and brings it close to his mouth.
"But, Dubhán, you are just a pup. Why…why do you have to be alone?" It makes his heart break, thinking of the rambunctious pup all alone.
"Remus is the only werewolf I think they know. He's so tame Geoffrey. I don't think he's ever met a werewolf in wolf form before!"
Geoffrey laughs so loudly that Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore look over at them. He doesn't try to hide his next words behind whispers.
"You think Remus Lupin is tame, Dubhán?" The boy nods against the man's chest. "I know you never told me, so I never told you, but I know how you were bitten. That tame werewolf fought along side your father, in his house, with Wolfsbane in his blood. He grabbed you right from under the nose of a killing curse. He killed three death eaters who tried to get near you as you transformed. The Death Eaters said they'd never seen a werewolf protect a human so fiercely. He wouldn't even let Potter near you!" Geoffrey leaves out that Harry, had shown him this memory after Geoffrey's outburst towards Lupin, just to show him it had been an accident.
Harry and Dumbledore have stopped talking. Harry is crying. Dumbledore is smiling.
"Really?" Geoffrey nods, and then words start to flow out of Potter's mouth.
"Remus wouldn't even let the Auror's near you. Or the Healer. You were so afraid. I only got to hold you after Remus had transformed and I put a sleeping spell on him."
"Then why can't he be with me?"
"He was afraid it was too soon for you. He thought you'd think he was trying to replace Geoffrey. We thought that was who you transformed with."
I wanted to make sure the first chapter of the New Year was extra long! :)
I might come back and write a snippet about Devlin's transformation, but I couldn't make it happen this time and it wasn't necessary. Once more I'll add, in case you missed it, there is a one-shot side story of how Devlin got bitten – just go to my profile and you'll see it. The title is self-explanatory.
How did the Geoffrey-Devlin thing go? Did you like the more positive Harry/Devlin interactions? What about Sirius? Anyone looking forward to a dressed up Potter family at a Ministry Ball? Wonder who else could be at such an event?
Please review! No really – I like them. In all honesty, if no one reviewed I wouldn't publish the story. I'm content enough to simply write it down and keep it on my own computer, but I enjoy knowing that others like it too. So PLEASE REVIEW! :) That is all. See you soon!