In the Crosshairs
Dragon Voldemort
Chapter 108: Mooned
Harry woke Wednesday on his left side, across Ron, Hermione, and Gia. A pat to Harry's butt.
"We're those who love you," Gia said.
Hoot!
A tail rose above Gia, the head of Snuffles. Harry stood. Harry turned to the bird, stroked feathers, handed her an owl treat, and stroked her feathers again.
"Wondered when you'd wake up," Ron said as he sat up. He stood up.
Harry glanced at him.
"Had a sleeping beauty on us," Ron said.
Hermione snorted.
"Let you two have the shower first," Harry said to Gia and Hermione.
Harry followed Ron out of the bedroom, down the stairs. Ron went into the kitchen area, took out the frying pan. Ron added in strips of bacon into it until it was full of bacon, and turned on the burner.
"Said I went dark?" Ron asked.
"He wasn't too wrecked," Harry said, "Harry was a bit jaded."
Ron flipped the bacon.
"Make sure there's enough for me?" Harry asked.
"Already is," Ron said.
Harry watched as Ron took care of the bacon and drained the grease. Ron cracked the eggs.
"Good morning gentlemen," Notley said as he entered. He set down the duffel bag.
Harry spun, grabbed the pitcher of orange juice, carried it over to the table. Ron carried the plates over, set them down.
"Is it supposed to be green?" Harry asked, pointed at the wound near Ron's naval, the edge of green.
"Reaction of the antidote taking out the poison," Notley said, "Should be harmless, clears up in a few days."
Harry grabbed a strip of bacon, ate into it, the hunger not truly there, but figured it best to try, as he'd promised to, as he'd seen himself die otherwise. Ron returned to the kitchen area, to the toaster. Toasted bread to the plate, Ron brought it over with beans. Notley handed over a couple of pills, the pink and the green, ones Harry took; Harry ate into a second strip of bacon.
"Of course, the poison's meant to be lethal," Notley said, taking a bit of the bacon for himself.
Notley watched them, watched as Harry took a fork to the eggs. Snuffles sat there, Harry grabbed a strip of bacon, fed it to Snuffles.
"Think he wants steak," Ron said.
"Didn't realize you had a dog," Notley said.
Harry's feet worked Snuffles' belly beneath the table.
"He…" Harry thought about it, "Was watching over a close friend, one he'll miss dearly."
"Sorry about that," Notley said, "Sucks to lose a friend. That's the hardest part of any relationship, the final good bye."
"It was a bit more traumatic for him," Harry said.
Harry buttered up a slice of the white toast, added beans on top, and ate into it.
Burp!
Harry drank the orange juice, pushed the plate aside. A glance from Ron, the blue eyes that twinkled.
"What?" Harry asked.
Ron grinned.
"So…" Notley put down two bottles of pills, the pink and the green, both with Harry's name inscribed on them. "One each every morning, alright?"
Harry nodded.
"You can get a pill minder if you want," Notley said, "Available from any chemist."
"I'll manage," Harry said.
Harry worked his toes through Snuffles' fur beneath the table.
"Come to my office later this morning," Notley said, "I'll take that brace off."
"Before or after practice?" Harry asked.
Notley stared at Harry, the disbelief behind those eyes.
"Raise you—he has lunch," Ron said to Notley.
"I'll consider it," Notley said, "Maybe is the best I can say until I see you there."
Notley stood.
"Thank you," Ron said.
"Yes," Harry said, "Thank you."
"I trust the door's a bad idea," Notley said.
"Need help?" Harry asked.
"I'll get it," Notley said, "Might take me a couple of hops—we're close to London, right?"
"Yeah," Harry said.
"Later," Notley said.
Notley grabbed his duffel bag, went for the front door. A pop, the small entry was empty.
"Got him to go from a flat NO to a maybe," Ron said to Harry.
Harry stood. Snuffles transformed, Sirius watched Harry.
"He's a Healer?" Sirius asked.
"Don't knock it," Ron said.
"Notley's the one that saved us after…" Harry pointed at the mine on the table by the window. "Something like it hit us."
"That's not a decoration," Sirius said.
"Hermione did something," Ron said, "It's safe."
"I need to get Gia to school," Harry said.
Harry went for the stairs, climbed.
…
"Benjamin Notley's a healer willing to treat us," Ron said to Sirius, "And Harry needs it because he's dangerously underweight."
Sirius' sullen eyes turned to Ron's as Ron stood.
"Lead Harry to three meals a day," Ron said, "Do not force him."
"What's happening?" Sirius asked.
"Shh," Ron said as he heard the steps.
…
Harry followed Gia down the steps, into the living room. Her blouse on over her protective vest.
"Sirius," Harry said, "Mind guarding her like before? It's gotten a bit rough."
Gia nodded.
"First," Sirius said, "Remus needs a memorial, got room to host?"
"Yes," Harry said, "After class…say eight tonight?"
"That'll work," Sirius said.
"Be ready to transform," Harry said, "Not sure about doing this with an Animagus."
Harry's wand out, the disillusionment on Gia, Sirius, and himself. He held the hands, the focus, the concentration. Disapparation, apparation into the darkened classroom. Sirius transformed as the disillusionment dropped. Harry dropped it from Gia.
"Good luck," Harry said. Harry kissed her.
Gia sat. Another thought, the disapparation, apparation back to the living room.
"We're hosting?" Ron asked.
"Yeah," Harry said, "Guess we are."
"Suppose we could ask Fred and George for ideas," Ron said.
"It's from us," Harry said, "Lets see what we can get ourselves."
Harry went up the stairs, the familiar hard double left into the bedroom. Hermione on the bed, front side down, reading; her left hand worked Crookshanks' fur.
"What stupid thing are you up to now?" Hermione asked.
"Bit of shopping," Harry said as he lifted his backpack.
Ron lifted his.
"Yeah," Ron said, "Supplies because Harry offered to host Lupin's memorial."
"How many are coming?" Hermione asked.
"Dunno," Harry said, "Guess Dumbledore, and the rest of his group."
Harry's wand out, the disillusionment. Ron did the same.
"Try Mark's and Spencer's?" Harry asked.
Ron shrugged as Harry held that shoulder. A thought, the tightness, the disapparation, the apparation into a breezy though moderate air. Seats on the staggered paving brick, the red post box.
"Where?" Ron asked.
Harry shrugged, spun around. A W. , the clothing retailers. Harry went for the double glass door of M&S, entered. Ron followed.
"What do we get for a memorial?" Harry asked.
"Dunno," Ron said, "Black?"
They went through the store, found the party supplies. Harry caught some other customers moving away.
"It's her," was the whisper Gia heard, as she stepped up to the bench in the chemistry lab.
Richard to the other side, pulled over the container with a wide lid.
"She got the secretary killed," another said.
"Ignore that," Richard said to Gia.
Jen measured out the red powder. Gia poured out the clear syrup into the beaker. Snuffles laid on the floor.
"Not your fault," Jen said to Gia.
"Trouble with secrecy," Richard said, "They won't know the full picture."
Gia hoped things were going better for Harry.
After M&S, Harry walked along Queen Street, when Ron pointed it out, the castle.
"Cardiff!" Ron said, "That's where you took us."
"Needed shopping," Harry said, "They've got shopping."
A turn left, a bit, a turn into the Cardiff Market. They walked through it, came to a custom engraver. Harry went through the stamped metal.
"What you thinking?" Ron asked.
Harry went to the man, described what he wanted, handed over the cash. A few minutes later, the man returned with it, and Harry put it into the cardboard box.
"That's…" Ron started.
Harry glanced at the clock.
"Practice," Harry said.
With determination, Harry and Ron went for the door to the road. A thud behind them against their backpacks. Harry held Ron and disapparated. Harry felt the strong desire to splinch, overcame it as they apparated into the living room.
"Off!" Ron snapped.
Harry felt the sizzle on his back, his backpack dropped to the floor. Harry spun around as Ron dropped his. Both backed away, the blue sparks that arc'd across, the crisscrossing network on the leather shriveling on the carpeted floor.
"Do…" Ron started.
Harry's wand out, the attempts to draw away the sparks. Arcs of electric blue made feelers, tendrils that reached out. Harry and Ron backed up into the kitchen area.
Bang!
Brown leather of the backpacks shriveled, exploded into a fine ash, and their contents of books, supplies, skis, sleeping bags, ropes, and all the other items, formed a large mound of stuff.
"So much for those," Harry said, "Maybe something like we had last week?"
"Possibly," Ron said, "It was Cardiff though—except Lupin's nearby and so were Hermione's cousins. Somebody recognized us."
"Likely would've been worse on us," Harry said.
Harry went over, began to stack the books. Foot steps.
"What are you two up to?" asked Hermione.
Ron went over, sniffed at Hermione's hair.
"Something hit us," Harry said, "Backpacks—gone."
Harry explained the demise.
"Wish you had managed to get the devices," Hermione said, "Or the wizard that sent them at you."
"To our backpacks?" Harry asked.
"Poor aim," Hermione suggested.
Ron picked up a St. Mungo's Book of Healing.
"Practice," Harry said to Ron.
"Here." Ron handed the book over to Hermione. "Sort it."
"Can't," Hermione said, "I'm going hunting."
Harry unsure which glare he preferred. He grabbed Ron's hand, disapparated. They apparated into the showers of the locker room, which were all idle.
"Clubhouse," Ron said.
Another disapparation, apparation, into the clubhouse. A glance from Coach Gerber nearby who wondered if Harry and Ron had indeed done what shouldn't have been capable of being done.
"Lunch," Ron said.
Harry bit his tongue, knew the comment about breakfast not too long ago wouldn't be appreciated. He went with Ron, stood at the buffet. Harry took a tray, scooped in some fried rice.
"Sucks to lose those," Ron said, "So many memories."
Harry snickered as he put the hard brown chicken popcorn sized pieces on his plate. He ladled in the reddish sauce over the rice and chicken. Chopsticks, the fork, and a canned soda, Harry carried the tray over to an empty table. Ron sat to the other side of Harry.
"Hermione'd be happy if you turned that other bedroom into a library," Ron said, "Think that'd work?"
Harry used the chopsticks, brought the chicken to his lips, ate. Not super hungry, but enough to eat a bit.
"Didn't think to ask Dobby or Winky," Ron said, "Think they'd do the hard work?"
"You know what Hermione would say," Harry said.
Ron ate into his chicken coated with sauce, worked around the broccoli.
"Alright," Ron said, "We can skip the broccoli."
Harry snorted. A glance to the rice, the sauce, and Harry thought about that other Harry, the one whose skin vanished away so completely. Blue eyes focused on Harry's.
"What?" Harry said, "Will you…" Harry spooned up some rice to his mouth, ate it.
"You're eating," Ron said, "I'm trying to shut up about it, as promised."
"Oh," Harry said, "Sorry."
"In all of Hagrid's show in Care of Magical Creatures," Ron said, "Which creature was the most beautiful, the most capable, the most dangerous?"
"I…hadn't thought about it," Harry said, "First one had to be Buckbeak."
"It's us," Ron said, "Even thousands of those bats couldn't get us."
"That was close," Harry said.
"Yet we came out on top," Ron said, "Right?"
"True," Harry admitted, he shoved a bit more of the chicken in.
Harry's stomach protested another. Harry opened the soda can, drank that down. Ron leaned forward.
"I see a creature, wounded," Ron said, "I've seen the shackles, the cages, the leashes it's been put upon, sick and withering. Now that you've seen it, now that you understand, now that the creature is accepting the help to nurse it back to health, I know it doesn't have to be the end. I'll stand guard, I'll watch, and I'll continue to help."
Harry understood the metaphor.
"Lets go and see what the healer has to say about this—" Ron pointed at Harry. "Magical creature." Ron stood. "Unless you want to play with the Monster book of Monsters."
Harry snorted as he stood, he remembered that book, luring it out to restrain it. They turned for the door. Harry gripped Ron's hand, closed his eyes, the focus. A disapparation, an apparation.
"—take one every morning for two weeks," Notley said.
Notley stood there, as he faced a topless Katie sitting on the examination table. Katie's eyes glared at Harry.
"Sorry," Harry muttered.
Harry turned around, the door that opened as he and Ron stepped out. Harry closed the door.
"Should look before apparating in," Ron said.
"I got that—now," Harry snapped.
Harry and Ron went to their lockers. Harry opened his and stared at the practice clothes that had been provided, the white T–shirt and blue shorts he'd seen the coaches wear. Harry closed his locker as Katie approached.
"The doctor is in," Katie said.
"Sorry," Harry said, "It was my mistake."
Katie's brown eyes beneath her silky light brown hair twitched, went from his bottle green eyes to the dots on his shoulder and chest, the brace over his clavicle.
"What's…" Katie circled the dot near Harry's right nipple. "An interesting story, I hope. Whose baby did you rescue?"
"Nothing much to it," Harry said.
"Embarrassed?" Katie asked.
"Seriously," Harry said, "It's fine, nothing to it."
"I wouldn't downplay attempted murder," Notley said, he leaned in the open door.
"Attempted murder?" Katie asked.
"It's routine," Harry said.
"Let's…" Ron started.
Ron's hands to Harry's back, they walked into the examination room; both sat on the table side by side, with Ron left of Harry. Notley closed the door, turned around.
"I expect you to safeguard her affairs as you expect me to guard yours," Notley said, "Understood?"
Harry nodded.
"Make some Portkeys." Notley threw some Puddlemere United pins at them, Harry caught his, Ron fumbled. "Set this office as a location in case you need emergency medical care. Press that panic button." He pointed at the large red button marked PANIC.
Harry's wand out, he aimed at the pin, created it.
"What if somebody else's in here?" Harry asked.
"If you're thinking it's an emergency," Notley said, "They'll understand."
Harry opened his wand holster, put the Puddlemere United pin into it, where the old Hogwarts pin had been. Ron returned the new pin, modified his Hogwarts pin.
"I asked you to do that because it's clear that my shadowing you endangered your lives," Notley said, "So, I'm skipping further stays, and instead making sure you've got fast access."
"Thank you," Ron said.
Notley's wand in his left hand, aimed it at Harry, and a soothing, massaging, vibration set into Harry's skin by the wand tip.
"Somebody tries to kill you and you…" Notley shook his head.
"Not like it was the first time," Harry said, his left finger pointed up at the scar on his forehead. "Won't be the last."
Harry felt the vibration in his shoulder as the wand went across it. Notley's right fingers pulled off the brace, and that hand moved to hold Harry's left shoulder.
"Sure," Harry said, "They're improving their tactics, so are we, and we're surviving."
"Last night required a bit of help if I recall," Notley said.
"An exception," Harry said.
Ron snorted.
"Today's attempt totally missed because it hit the backpacks," Harry said, "Hermione's sorting the books, likely turning that guest bedroom into a library."
Notley brought the wand down to his stomach, Harry felt it.
"It measures…" Notley pulled the wand away. "Glad you're keeping it full."
Harry turned his head, glared at Ron. Ron shrugged.
"Scale," Notley said.
Harry groaned.
"See this paper?" Notley said.
Harry glanced at the one on the clipboard.
"I can tick the one that says to try again tomorrow," Notley said, "Or you can use the scale, and I'll know if I can give you at least an hour of flying, or more."
Harry stepped off the examination table, walked, stepped up on the scale. Ron snickered. Notley recorded the numbers from it.
"I was fearing worse," Notley said, "You did lose a pound, but I understand what you went through, so you're technically worse off. See if you can squeeze in a bit more tonight. A midnight snack? A fourth meal?"
"How much bacon do you want?" Ron asked Harry.
Notley snorted.
"I'll give you an hour—limited," Notley said, "Check tomorrow to see if I can increase it, let the coaches cover what they want to."
Harry nodded, stepped off. Ron stepped onto the scale.
"Go ahead," Ron said to Harry, "Get a broom, lay in the sunshine."
Harry understood, left the examination room. Into the box, to the broom closet, he grabbed the Nimbus 1000, and carried it out into the sunshine that poured down from above.
…
"How bad are Harry's numbers really?" Ron asked, eyes on the man.
"I see the stress, I understand that," Notley said, "You really got him to eat lunch?"
"He wanted to," Ron said, "I mean, he wasn't truly hungry, but he's kinda taking a leap of faith."
"That's…" Notley sat down on the chair. "Remarkable."
"How bad were the numbers on Monday?" Ron asked.
"Similar to today's," Notley said, "He's got weeks, but nobody's really been able to get the patient to reverse it once the magic started cannibalization."
Ron squatted, focused on the man's face, the eyes, the satisfaction of having made of a difference.
"They didn't have attackers to deal with either," Notley said, "How? Trust me, St. Mungo's would love to know the trick."
"Let's wait until we know he's stuck with it," Ron said, "Certainly don't want to advertise who your patient is to St. Mungo's."
"True," Notley said, "Anonymous tip if I knew the trick."
"It wouldn't be taken seriously," Ron said, "Best to wait it out."
Ron stood.
"You're cleared," Notley said, "Full afternoon if you want."
"I'll match Harry," Ron said.
Notley nodded. Ron went for the door.
"Watch out after him," Notley said.
Ron went through the door, took the left into the box, grabbed a Nimbus 1000, and walked up next to Harry.
"Took your sweet time," Harry said.
Ron felt the heat of the sunshine. Katie flew in.
"So those new leopard spots?" Katie asked Harry.
Harry's bottle green eyes twitched, the gaze at her.
"Nothing of consequence," Harry said, "Same as what wasn't said about you."
Katie's finger pressed on Harry's chest, she smiled. Her hand returned to the handle, turned on the Nimbus 1000, and flew.
"She likes you," Ron said.
"Belt it," Harry snapped.
Harry's leg over the broom handle, he flew, and Ron watched Harry soar. Ron swung his leg, flew up.
…
Notley walked into the premium box seats, Coach Meyers was there. Beyond, Harry and Ron on the brooms.
"You're letting them?" asked Coach Meyers.
"It's about rewarding compliance," Notley said, "I think Potter's starting to take it seriously, so despite last night's set back, a short, light, practice is in order. Leroy promised to keep it relaxed."
"You're gambling again," Coach Meyers said.
"If you want a real gamble," Notley said, "Try taking a walk with them in that town of theirs. They can't walk safely there anymore."
…
Later, Harry carried the two Nimbus 1000s as they walked back across the grass into the box.
"Wish we had more time," Harry said as he put the brooms up.
"Hey," Ron said, hand to Harry's shoulder, "Notley gave you an hour because you did eat. Let's go home so I can fry up some bacon like I had promised."
Harry's bottle green eyes that fixed onto Ron's.
"What you saw yesterday scares me," Ron said, "I don't want that to happen either, so lets go home."
Harry's hand to Ron's shoulder, the disapparation, the tightness, and the apparation into the living room. A table, covered with something beneath it, was where their backpacks had self–destructed hours earlier. Another table had a similar covering by the one with the spiked ball from the previous night.
"Guess that's what she calls cleanup," Ron said.
Ron shrugged, went into the kitchen. He put the frying pan onto the stove, opened the refrigerator.
"We're out of bacon," Ron said, "Um…sausage."
Ron took the tube, formed the patties, and slapped them onto the pan. Ron washed his hands in the sink as the sizzling began. Harry sat at dining table, took the pot of hot water, fixed himself tea, and grabbed a small biscuit.
"So you were talking about me with him earlier," Harry said.
Ron flipped the patties, grabbed a plate, and waited another couple of minutes. Patties onto the plate, the burner turned off, and Ron went over to the dining table.
"I'm sure you talk about me too," Ron said as he sat.
Harry took a patty with a fork, ate into it.
"But yes, we were," Ron said, "Keeps your examinations short when I fill in the details."
Harry glanced up, skis mounted to the ceiling above the front window, to Gia who landed in. She came over, kissed Harry, and she sat down next to him.
"This is—?" Gia asked.
"The homework," Harry said, leafing through the army manual.
A pop, Hermione appeared, her gloved hands carried two large devices covered in silvery cloth to hide the features. Ron stood first, glared at her.
"Got them—step—" Ron started.
"Inert," Hermione said as she spun around.
"You're sure?" Harry asked, as he too, stood.
"Some research materials for your class," Hermione said as she set the two devices down on the coffee table. "Be right back, got a bit bored waiting the thirty minutes."
Hermione disapparated. She apparated back in, carried a small stack of three pizza boxes with paper plates on top. A step over to the counter between the kitchen and dining area. Harry understood the message, went over, opened the top. Pepperoni. He put a slice onto a plate, stepped away, and bit into it.
"Show you what I can before your class," Hermione said.
Hermione took a slice of vegetarian, from the middle box, ate as she walked. Harry lifted, removed the blue tarps that covered them. Three tables and a coffee table, a dozen total that showed including the five that hovered, each one meant for those standing in the living room. Each one, a display to the hatred being brought to bear, a hatred that had turned this house from quarters to refuge to a jail cell.
"You've been busy," Ron said.
Hermione grinned.
"You're certain these are safe?" Harry asked.
"If you need them live," Hermione said, "Got plenty to grab outside."
A slight pang, Harry went back to the boxes, grabbed another slice, ate into that as he watched Hermione pull out the small sphere from one of devices. Gia leaned in from behind, her arms that wrapped around, slipped down his shorts. She sniffed, and kissed his neck.
"You're—" Harry started.
"Positive reinforcement of good behavior," Gia said as she released.
Harry went to the table, Hermione stood there as happy as Hagrid with a new beast. One hovered, the tendrils of blue that moved.
"Don't touch," Hermione cautioned, "Best to not sleep walk around these."
"Also keep her very happy," Ron said, "Never know if one of these has an accident."
"You're being cheerful," Hermione said.
Harry understood the potential, all tokens of death wishes. Most still had some of their silvery cloth attached.
"Bladed mines, these cursers, and the mace," Harry said, "Any hair traps?"
"No need for hair traps," Hermione said, "If one of these goes off, it's basically over."
"Likely got enough last week," Ron said.
"Guessing the supplier might be trying to hold onto a monopoly," Harry said, "Keep his usefulness."
"A high demand for our hair," Hermione said.
"How high?" Harry asked.
"See their serial numbers," Hermione said, "Guessing it's for quality control."
Harry put the gloves on, picked up the six bladed mine gingerly, upward, kept his fingers clear of the sharp edges as he focused on the bottom.
"Two hundred thirty six," Harry said.
Harry set the mind down. He bent down beneath the black sphere with blue tendrils.
"One hundred sixty two," Harry said.
Harry went to the black sphere with a bulge in the leather, picked that up gently.
"One hundred eighteen," Harry said.
Harry moved to the mace, grabbed around the spikes of the lead ball, and rotated.
"Fifty two," Harry said.
Harry put the mace down first, the gloves next to it.
"If they're sequential by model," Hermione said, "Think about how many have been constructed."
"Blimey!" Harry said, "Not meant for ornamental uses, means they're likely deployed."
Harry considered the magnitude.
"Easy to find," Hermione said.
"Not good then," Gia said.
Ron shook his head.
"I can disable them, for now," Hermione said, "Once they change the design, we're back to square one."
"At least we know what we're up against," Harry said.
Harry breathed, turned. The three that stood there, Gia with her blond hair, Ron with his red, and Hermione with her brown bushy hair.
"You did good," Harry said to Hermione.
"Class," Ron said.
"Oh," Harry said, "We're hosting Lupin's memorial afterwards—these have to go somewhere."
Hermione's eyes on him.
"Sorry for the last minute," Harry said, "Sirius asked, and nobody else has an unwatched house, I'm it."
"We need to go," Ron said.
Harry went to the dining table, gathered his notes, and shoved them into the book–bag. Strap to the shoulder, a slight pang. He went to the boxes, grabbed a slice of pepperoni, and put it on a paper plate.
"Now," Harry said to Ron.
Ron gripped Harry's left shoulder. Harry shut his eyes, the focus, the disapparation, the tightness, and apparated into the back of the classroom. Plate down, Harry sorted through for his homework, handed the sheet of parchment in along with Ron's.
"Should've brought in one of Hermione's," Ron said.
"It's muggle bombs," Harry reminded Ron.
Harry sat, ate the slice of pepperoni as he listened. Ron's hand worked down the back, a massage and a pat; Harry understood the message.
After class, Harry apparated himself and Ron into the living room. This time, all save one table had been removed. Extra chairs arranged to create a focus of the fireplace, with some bottles and appetizers on the coffee table that went straight. That remaining table was against the wall with the stairs, three devices on it.
"Good," Ron said as he went for the dining table, the one covered in dishes and covers, "I'm starving."
Harry walked to it, grabbed a slice of pepperoni.
"Going to pat me?" Harry asked as he ate.
Ron reached, the hand down the back.
"I can wank you," Ron offered.
Harry shook his head.
Knock! Knock!
Harry glanced at the door, figured it best not to be blind. An aim of his wand.
"Uno modo inlusio!" Harry snapped, the force behind it.
Beyond, the small group. Dumbledore supported by his cane. McGonagall, Tonks, and Snape. Harry opened the door.
"Welcome," Harry said, "The memorial for Remus Lupin will commence shortly."
"Thank you Harry," Dumbledore said.
A tap of Dumbledore's cane led in the small procession. Snape kept his glare at Harry, the bottle green eyes that reminded the man of Lily Potter.
"You're welcome to stay outside," Harry said to Snape.
"Unlike you," Snape said, "I respected him."
Harry glared.
"Children!" Dumbledore snapped.
"Professor," Harry said to Dumbledore, "Suspect we'll have some visitors I don't know?"
Dumbledore turned, stood there with Harry as Arthur, Fred, and George Weasley apparated in, along with Angelina Johnson. Red hair in the gold and green suits, Fred and George led Angelina, while Arthur in the worn bluish green casual suit followed.
"Good evening Mr. Potter," said Amelia Bones as she approached, Hestia Jones behind her.
Others, until finally Moody entered with Snuffles.
"Away!" Moody barked in the living room.
Harry closed the door, went in to Moody aiming his wand at the collection of devices on the table, the focus of many sets of eyes. Harry pushed in between the wand and the table.
"Hermione!" Harry shouted.
Footsteps on the stairs, Hermione entered.
"Those are—" Moody growled.
"Safe," Hermione said, "So long as you don't touch them."
"Could go at any moment," Moody said.
"I know," Hermione said, "However, they won't unleash their payloads."
Gold and silver suits, Fred and George came over.
"Wicked," Fred said, "Prototypes for us?"
"Hermione's new hobby of collecting things across town," Harry said.
George reached for the curser.
"No!" Harry snapped, "Don't touch—look all you want, but don't touch. They're still live."
"They should be removed," Dumbledore said, the blue eyes that didn't hide the concern.
"No!" Hermione said, "I need them to teach these two blokes tomorrow, how to detect, disable, and avoid these things."
"I'm interested in that lesson," Moody said.
Hermione grinned.
"It'll be starting at eight thirty," Hermione said.
Harry caught Ron's glare, they wanted to get to the stadium.
"Eight forty five?" Harry said, "Time to get Gia to class?"
"Sure," Hermione said.
Harry surveyed the thick crowd in the room, the chairs, the sofas he didn't recognize, presumably conjured up, all focused toward the fireplace, without a clear path to it, however, a painting of Lupin fixed up on the mantle. Harry took a fast start, jumped up, feet to the coffee table, landed in front of the fire. Harry spun around.
"Welcome," Harry said, "If you need it, the lavatory is up the stairs, straight across."
Harry waited a moment. He glanced around at the eyes, the anticipation. His mind began to form his speech, the one he should've had prepared.
"I know we've gathered to pay respect to a man we all love and cherish," Harry said, "Or so we claimed—unable to spare him from the wrath of Voldemort? A pawn yet he was my friend, and Voldemort's minions struck him down. Voldemort gloated over the corpse."
Harry realized he said too much, the curiosity with how he knew it.
"Sorry, I'm still mad at this," Harry said, "How many of those—" He pointed at the devices on the table, "How many are laid by death eaters? Or those seeking to kill me and my friends. They're sharing the same bed."
Another moment of silence, the eyes on Harry.
"We'll start with the one who tried to spare him," Harry said, "A man who's under my protection in this house, Sirius Black."
Harry took the jump, the run on the coffee table, as the man in the tattered suit stepped up to the fireplace. A swish of Harry's wand, the Invisibility Charm, Harry's feet repeated the trot back to the fireplace, stood next to Sirius, and watched the eyes.
"I met Remus years ago on the train," Sirius started.
Harry listened, renewed his charm, watched, as Sirius told the life of Lupin, the werewolf, from the days of Hogwarts. Some of the audience, like McGonagall and Dumbledore, this stirred back the old memories. Others like Wood or the Weasley twins heard it for the first time. Harry heard it in the voice, the relaxation as Sirius kept talking.
"My good friend," Sirius said, "I will never forget you."
Sirius went for the edge, made it to the dining area, as Dumbledore stood. A tap of the cane, the old man approached the fireplace. Harry took the jump, ran across the coffee table, to where Sirius went into the entry way.
"Upstairs?" Harry asked.
"Today we mourn the passing of a friend, a teacher, a colleague," Dumbledore started.
Harry followed Sirius up the stairs.
"Left," Harry said.
Sirius took the double left, entered the bedroom. Harry entered, Hedwig on the perch.
"I can smell you," Sirius said.
Harry glanced at the mirror, unable to see himself. He dropped the invisibility.
"Guess that's a good test," Harry said.
Sirius turned, the eyes on Harry.
"Wish you'd listened—" Sirius started.
"Stood right next to you," Harry said, "Didn't know everybody's wand."
"Smart," Sirius said.
"Now it's onto those that didn't do a damn," Harry said, "You tried, you fucking tried, sorry it didn't work out."
Harry turned to the mirror, his eyes on his own bottle green, curious if he could pickup his irritation within.
"Those downstairs are now making excuses," Harry said, "Why didn't he bail on the manor the moment he was listed?"
"It was home," Sirius said, "And Dumbledore felt it better to remain."
"Just about everybody outsources their brain to Dumbledore," Harry said, "Sheep to the slaughter."
Harry unsure if Sirius agreed or disagreed.
"That's not why…" Harry picked up the small cardboard box, turned back to face Sirius. "A token for you."
Harry handed Sirius the small cardboard box. Sirius opened it, lifted up the engraved dog tag, double sided. Padfoot on one side, Moony on the other. A tear came to Sirius' eye.
"Thank you," Sirius said.
Sirius hugged Harry.
"Don't forget him," Harry said.
Date: Thu Jan 4 09:53:35 2024