Brother,
I'm not going to pretend I'm not angry or disappointed, because I am—time hasn't really dulled either. I imagine that's why you've stayed away, or maybe you didn't feel like you had a choice. I don't know.
You should know that you're welcome back at home. I'm willing to hear out your reasons for leaving, and assign you an appropriate punishment based on what you say, and then that'll be the end of it.
Or, stay away. Hide with Lupin and Rosier, or join their war effort, or go back to school, or do whatever it is that you're going to do. But, know that doing so will be an indication you no longer consider yourself a part of this pack, and that you are therefore forfeiting any right to the pack's protection.
You have until September 1st to make your choice and notify me as to what it is; either you'll return home, or you'll send an explanation in your place. Either way you'll have made your loyalties clear. If you don't do either, we will hunt you down under the assumption you're being kept prisoner, and you will be rescued, then punished, or, if you do not appear to be a captive, you will just be punished for ignoring an instruction from the leader of the pack.
Choose wisely.
The letter was not signed, but Ethan knew who'd written it; even if he hadn't recognized the spiky, scribbly handwriting; Greentooth's scent clung to the paper, despite the fact that Ethan had had it for a week now and handled it considerably in that time.
It frightened him a little, but amused him too; Greentooth was trying to sound impressive or authoritative, which was normal enough, but she'd never really tried to do it with big words or formal sentences before.
The message was clear enough though, even if it sounded like she'd written it with some of the pack's adults reading over her shoulder.
Ethan didn't know what to do.
He hadn't planned to leave, hadn't necessarily even wanted to, but then Matt had been attacked, and Lupin hadn't had a wand, and Ethan hadn't wanted either of them to die, so he'd thrown Lupin his own wand and done what he could to get Matt free of the pack, and then all three of them had been pulled away to Lupin's cottage—
The whoosh of the Floo in the cottage's main room had Ethan shoving Greentooth's note in his pocket and going to investigate. Matt was there, as he had been since they'd left the camp, but not alone; Dumbledore—who was brushing soot from his mustard coloured robes—was with him.
"Ah, Mr Runcorn," Dumbledore said, with a smile.
"Hi," Ethan said. He couldn't quite muster a smile back; he'd always liked the Headmaster, and been grateful for his support and willingness to let Ethan come to Hogwarts, but he also knew Dumbledore was responsible for sending Lupin back to the camp on business for the Order of the Phoenix—he'd heard the name around the camp—and that was what had landed Ethan here. "What's going on?"
"I was hoping to speak with you," Dumbledore said. "If you can spare a few moments?"
"Sure," Ethan said, and flopped down onto one of Lupin's couches. They were faded and the leather on them was cracked, but they were very comfortable. Dumbledore sat on the couch opposite, and Matt hovered:
"Can I get you anything, Dumbledore? Tea?" Matt caught Ethan's eye, and at his nod, went to busy himself in the kitchen.
"Peppermint, if you have it," Dumbledore called after him, and then turned back to Ethan with a look that was not sharp or searching, but seemed to see through him all the same. The note in Ethan's pocket seemed to burn.
"What did you want to talk about?" Ethan asked.
"I was wondering whether you were intending to return to Hogwarts next week," Dumbledore said.
"Is there a reason I wouldn't be?" Ethan asked, raising his eyebrows. He caught the shift in Matt's scent across the room and scowled.
"I understand you have been conflicted about your departure from the camp," Dumbledore said, and there was no judgement in his tone, only understanding. Ethan relaxed a little. "I am not sure whether that is purely personal, or whether it is being fuelled by correspondence from others within the camp, or perhaps a mixture of both." Ethan said nothing. Dumbledore didn't seem to mind. "I am not here to influence your decision in any way, I simply wish to understand it so that I may take the appropriate measures."
"What measures?" Ethan asked.
"If you do not return, I shall have to unenroll you," Dumbledore said simply. "A process which I have just completed for Miss Walker, as it so happens—"
"Greentooth's not coming back?" It wasn't really a surprise; she'd assumed leadership of the pack now, so she had other responsibilities. She was also already seventeen—she was older than Ethan—and she'd done her O.W.L.s at the end of last year which meant the Ministry wouldn't snap her wand if she used magic, so really there was no need for her to go back… but it was strange to think of Hogwarts without her. They didn't have all the same friends or classes, or spend every moment together, or anything, but she'd been a constant presence all the same.
And now she wouldn't be.
"She is not," Dumbledore said, and this time there was emotion in his scent; disappointment, regret, disapproval, and, a bit of distaste. "I do not believe she is safe to be around the other students—"
"Because she's a werewolf?" Ethan asked, eyes narrowed.
"Because she bit someone," Dumbledore said. Matt was still clattering in the kitchen but his scent didn't change when Ethan looked over; clearly Matt hadn't been the one to tell Dumbledore that. It had probably been Lupin. "Multiple someones, in fact, and she did so deliberately. In doing so, she has breached the conditions I set when I first admitted you to Hogwarts."
"She didn't bite a student," Ethan said.
"And that makes it acceptable?" Dumbledore asked.
"I— well, that was the condition…" Dumbledore said nothing. His expression didn't change at all, nor did his scent, but Ethan felt the sudden urge to shrink all the same. In the kitchen, Matt had gone very still. "But… no, I suppose not."
Dumbledore's eyes were piercing:
"Is that what you believe, or what you think I want to hear?" he asked.
"A bit of both?" Ethan said. "I— you have to understand, sir, that expanding the pack is… Father always wanted— and now Greentooth is doing it. Has done it. It was always such a good, exciting thing." Father had always talked about becoming a wolf as a reward, a gift, but the people Greentooth had bitten earlier in the summer had been offered to her by Silverhand because they'd done something wrong. It had been a punishment, and, though most of the time Ethan considered his lycanthropy a gift—his sense of smell, his hearing, his reflexes, and the rush of the moon—he could understand how it was a punishment as well; the moon was brilliant, but the before and after was pretty awful. "But I remember how much it hurt, and how scared I was when Father brought me home, and… I don't wish it had never happened, but I get it, I think… why you shouldn't. And I won't. I promised I wouldn't."
"Not even if Greentooth told you to?" Matt had returned from the kitchen, steaming mugs in his hands. He passed one to Dumbledore and one to Ethan, and then sat down and studied Ethan over the rim of his own. Dumbledore was watching him too.
"If I go back to Hogwarts, then I'm pretty sure I'm out of the pack." It was the first time Ethan had said the words aloud, and they caught in his throat. "So there'd be no reason to do what she told me. And if I don't go back to Hogwarts, I don't imagine I'd be able to get anywhere near students." Dumbledore smiled, though there wasn't much amusement in it, and inclined his head. "What happens if I don't? I passed my O.W.L.s, but I'm not of age yet…"
"Your wand will be held by the Ministry until you are of age," Dumbledore said.
"They'd take it away?" Ethan's hand dropped to his pocket and curled around the smooth wood of his wand.
"Temporarily, yes," Dumbledore said, and the thought made Ethan uneasy; he hadn't been without his wand since he started school. Even over the holidays he had it on him, and occasionally even used it—they weren't supposed to, but a couple of the older pack members had wands, and those who'd once been muggles no longer set off the Statute, so the Ministry had no way of knowing. "As I understand it, you would only be without it for a few months—February, aren't you?"
Ethan gave a short nod, not warming at all to the concept:
"And if I do return to Hogwarts…?"
"Then you will keep your wand—your sixth year is the first of your N.E.W.T. preparation years, and so I daresay you'll need it."
"And what about the rest?" Ethan asked. "Even if I've promised not to attack anyone… the camp's sided with Silverhand, and I know you didn't want that." He glanced at Matt, who grimaced. "What's to say I won't be a danger in other ways?"
"Nothing at all," Dumbledore said. "But if your lycanthropy isn't part of that, then you're no more or less dangerous than any other student at Hogwarts." He was humouring Ethan—it was an honest answer, but not Dumbledore believed… or, rather, not one Dumbledore believed would be an issue in this situation. "And, regardless of whether you take a side, or what that side might be, rest assured you will not be the only one at Hogwarts to have done so."
"And if it's not your side?" Ethan was probing now, looking for something to suggest this was a trick or a trap; they were in a war, one Dumbledore was very involved with. There was no way he was this relaxed about the possibility of an enemy in his school—
"It's no secret I have my own political leanings," Dumbledore said, "but I do not force those on my students, nor do I exclude students from Hogwarts because they have different beliefs. Students will, of course, be punished if their beliefs manifest in actions which actively harm other students or break the law, but otherwise, Hogwarts is a school. We teach our students magic, and we are not exclusive about it."
"I'm not on Silverhand's side," Ethan admitted, and Dumbledore didn't smell surprised at all. "I don't want to be on anyone's side. I just want to keep my wand and try for my N.E.W.T.s and hopefully not be considered a traitor by the pack for it."
"I'm afraid only the first two are within my power," Dumbledore said. Ethan nodded.
"You're going back to school, then?" Matt asked, and Ethan nodded again. Matt let out a gusty, relieved breath. "Thank Godric." Dumbledore was quieter about it, but the scent of his relief was just as strong.
Then, though, it changed:
"If that's the case, it leads us into the second—and now relevant—reason for my visit," he said.
"What's that?"
"We have a new Defence teacher this year."
"We— what? What happened to Black?" Ethan didn't mind Black. He was a good teacher, and funny, and he'd even joined Ethan, Matt, and Lupin last full moon, which had been good; it had been Ethan's first one without the pack. "Did something happen to him?" Or maybe something had happened to Potter; Black was pretty intense when it came to Potter. He looked at Matt, who looked grim but not surprised—that wasn't particularly helpful.
"He's been replaced by Dolores Umbridge, who is…"
"Awful?" Matt suggested, while Dumbledore searched for a word.
'"Awful' is not how I would have described her," Dumbledore murmured. He made no attempt to correct Matt, though, nor did he seem particularly offended on the Umbridge woman's behalf.
"She's not a fan of people like us," Matt said, glancing at Ethan.
"Right," Ethan said. "So, what—I shouldn't take it personally if she's mean to me?" It would be a change from Black, who'd quite liked him—probably because of Lupin—but not all that unfamiliar in the scheme of things; Snape didn't like him and that was fairly easy not to take personally; Snape didn't like anyone.
"I believe the better course of action would be to keep your condition private," Dumbledore said.
"Private— you mean not tell her?" Dumbledore inclined his head. "But all of my teachers know—"
"A lot of things will change this year, I think," Dumbledore said, rather cryptically.
"So— but— won't she suspect?"
"In time, perhaps."
"But then what?"
"Then, if it is at all possible, I'd urge you to keep from giving her any proof."
"Right. Okay." He looked at Matt. "Is that all, then?"
"Actually there's one final thing…" Dumbledore sipped his tea. "With Miss Walker no longer at Hogwarts, you will be alone during the full moon. As with previous years, you will be provided with the Wolfsbane potion, but I expect it will still be challenging." Ethan's heart beat faster, driven by an awful mix of anxiety and fear; he'd never been alone on a full moon before, not since he was bitten, but he'd heard stories about how awful it was. "And so, I am willing to explore other arrangements."
"You could come to the Shack, right?" Ethan asked, looking at Matt.
"I don't think so," Matt said, glancing at Dumbledore, who inclined his head.
"It's not on the school grounds," Ethan said to Dumbledore. "There's no risk—"
"The Shack cannot be accessed on the Hogsmeade side," Dumbledore said, "and so Matt would have to access it from the Hogwarts grounds."
"Couldn't he apparate straight in?"
"Not with the new security enchantments on the Shack," Dumbledore said.
"Because of Greentooth," Ethan realised. Fumbledore inclined his head. "Well, fine, he Floos into your office, or the common room, and then—"
"Umbridge will complicate things," Matt said. "If she caught me, I'd probably end up in Azkaban—a werewolf in a school, on a full moon. And if I was delayed, or the moon rose faster than we expected—"
"Then you're a werewolf in a school on a full moon," Ethan finished. Matt nodded, mouth set in a grim line. "I assume the forest isn't an option?"
"Not unsupervised," Dumbledore said. "Even on the Wolfsbane potion."
"Black—"
"Will not leave Remus on a full moon. Which means Sirius then becomes responsible for three werewolves—"
"It's too much," Matt said, and Dumbledore nodded again.
"He did it last moon—"
"When we were incredibly isolated," Matt said. "There wasn't anyone to protect us from, or to protect from us. And if something had gone wrong, he could have left without putting anyone at risk." Whereas if he left from the school grounds, the risk was that all three of them would head for the castle. Ethan nodded.
"So what do we do then?" He pushed down a curl of fear. "Am I on my own?"
"No," Dumbledore said. "I was going to propose we remove you from the grounds. Bring you here, so you can be with Matthew and Remus for the transformation. Obviously Dolores' presence will be a challenge, but I believe it is one we can overcome—an absence will be less notable than an unexpected presence, in any case. And you will have help; Cedric Diggory may be able to cover for you within your house, since he is already in the know, and as Head Boy this year, he will have certain freedoms. Then, of course, Harry, Miss Granger, Mr Malfoy—Draco—and the Weasleys—also in the know—may be able to assist with getting you on and off the grounds undetected. Perhaps, if you thought they would handle it well, you could even bring some of your own, closer friends into the loop. And, it should go without saying that Madam Pomfrey and Professor Sprout will do all that they can to support you."
"I don't want to be a burden," Ethan said.
"And you will not be," Dumbledore said, with a kind smile. Ethan looked at Matt, who gave an encouraging nod.
"Are you sure you know how to drive this thing?" Padfoot asked, adjusting Hedwig's cage on his lap and glancing over at Dora.
"It's been a few years," she admitted, adjusting the rear-view mirror. In it, she caught Harry's eye, and winked. "But it always comes back quickly enough." She glanced out the window and then flicked on her indicator. "And more to the point, it's not like anyone else here can drive…"
The car started to roll forward and Draco—between Fleur and the window in the expanded backseat—glanced curiously over Dora's shoulder at the steering wheel and dashboard. Hermione—on Fleur's other side and immediately next to Harry—caught Harry's eye and smiled.
"I could drive," Padfoot said.
"A motorcycle," Dora said, "sure. This is a car."
"They can't be that different," he said.
Dora's eyes flicked to the rear-view mirror again but caught Marlene's attention instead of Harry's. The pair shared a look and Padfoot made a put upon sound from the front seat.
"It feels a bit strange to be going back," Hermione said, fiddling with the strap of Crookshanks' basket. "I'm excited, of course—"
Harry, though he'd always loved Hogwarts, wasn't. He'd tried to be, but Hogwarts wasn't going to be the same this year. For one, Padfoot wouldn't be there, and they'd have to deal with Umbridge instead. For another, he hadn't had another chance to fly with his glove since his birthday, though he'd worn it around Grimmauld a few times, and so there was no guarantee he'd be able to play Quidditch. There'd be rumours and speculation about his hand, and Merlin-forbid if anyone saw his Mark; Bill hadn't managed to remove it, though he'd promised Harry they'd get rid of it at Christmas, if not on a Hogsmeade weekend or at an Order meeting before then.
"—but it feels like it's been such a long time, and— well, classes are very important, but some of them probably aren't as important as other things we could be working on." She was right there too; while they were preparing for their O.W.L.s, the Order would be out fighting against Voldemort, and though Harry knew learning more magic was important if he was going to join that fight properly, he still knew enough now that he'd be able to help. There was also a very small, surprisingly calm part of him that wondered if there was a point in studying for his O.W.L.s, when it was quite possible he'd be dead before he had the chance to take his N.E.W.T.s— He stopped that train of thought right there.
"Who are you and what have you done with Granger?" Draco asked. Harry gave himself a mental shake, then lifted his hand to Hermione's head as if checking for a fever, making Draco grin. She swatted him away, shaking her head.
"It'll be good for you," Padfoot said, eyes on Harry. "All of you. Give you a bit of a distraction."
"But that's the point, isn't it," Draco said. "A distraction's not necessarily a good thing."
"It's a good thing in this case," Padfoot said firmly. Harry, Hermione, and Draco exchanged dubious looks. "I don't expect you to just lose all interest in what the Order's doing, but there'll be something to be said for not being caught up in it all day every day… And, actually, on that…" Padfoot sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "You're going to have to be careful what you say."
Harry made an indignant noise, and Padfoot waved a hand:
"Not just you—Arthur'll be having the same conversation in his car—but all of you. You've spent the last couple of months living at Headquarters where everything's discussed openly and at any time. Hogwarts is full of other students, and lots of them won't really care if they overhear something sensitive, or won't even know that it's sensitive… but there are going to be others around the school who might be listening out for things that they can pass back to people we don't want knowing our plans or certain bits of information." He wrinkled his nose. "And don't even get me started on Umbridge."
"Slinkhard's book is a waste of paper," Hermione declared, and Marlene huffed a laugh.
"There's that, sure," Padfoot said. "But I'm thinking more from a political perspective than an educational one. The Ministry's working against Voldemort and his Death Eaters, but that doesn't mean they're working with us." Padfoot twisted in his seat to look at Harry. "She's going to have an agenda where you're concerned. I don't know what, but you can guarantee it'll be something."
"I know," Harry said. This wasn't the first time they'd spoken about this. There was a good chance she'd try to get information out of him for Fudge, or to coerce him away from Dumbledore and toward the Ministry. That was Padfoot's guess, anyway.
But Padfoot hadn't seen how angry Fudge had been after Harry destroyed the prophecy, and if Umbridge was acting on Fudge's orders… well, Harry thought there was a good chance she might just be out to make him miserable.
"And you need to watch out too," Padfoot said, looking at Draco and Hermione now. "And Ron and Ginny. Last year you made it fairly obvious you're on Harry's side, and there were a lot of people watching. Umbridge was one of them."
"If she tries—"
"She's going to try," Padfoot said, over Harry. "That's my point. And there's not much you—or any of us—are going to be able to do about that. Do what you've got to to look after yourselves, obviously, but don't give her reasons to watch you more closely than she already will be. Don't give her reasons to punish you—the last thing we need is you expelled and your wands snapped."
The rest of the fairly short ride to Kings Cross was spent in a rather grim silence.
The Weasleys were already piling out of the Ford Anglia when Dora parked their borrowed car alongside. There were a few moments of madness as they unloaded their trunks and Hedwig's cage and Crookshanks' basket, but then they were all heading towards the station.
Harry felt exposed and a bit uneasy—just as he had at the Ministry—though there was no good reason for him to feel that way. He found himself sticking close to Padfoot and Dora—who'd looked like Moony since she got out of the car—and tucked his left arm into the pocket of his jumper. It didn't really make sense to hide it; once he got back to school, it would be a matter of time before someone saw it and the rumours spread.
But not yet.
He smelled something calculating and glanced around to see Fleur watching him. A moment later, she lifted her chin into the air, swept her hair—like spun silver—over her shoulder and stepped forward, graceful as a dancer. She was stunning, and the fact that she was there with them made Harry feel incredibly lucky, and she—
Was using her veela abilities.
Harry shook himself and frowned, and she winked at him, drifting toward the barrier after Mrs Weasley and the twins. Every head in the station seemed to turn toward her, and it was then he realised what she was doing, and felt a little flicker of gratitude.
"Good of her—" Ginny sidled up beside Harry. She too was watching Fleur. "—but I'm not sure how she's going to get through the barrier if every muggle in the station's watching her."
"She'll figure it out," Padfoot said. "More to the point, it means they're not watching us." And he shepherded them through the barrier and into the thick white steam of Platform Nine and Three Quarters.
"Potter— that's Potter!"
"Didn't think he was coming back; I heard he'd enrolled in Beauxbatons."
"Is that Potter?"
"I thought he was going back to Walpurgis…"
"Didn't the papers say he'd died?"
"That's Harry Potter!"
Harry ducked his head and pressed closer to Padfoot, who put a hand on his shoulder and steered him away from the barrier.
"All right?" Padfoot asked.
Harry nodded just as Ron materialised on his other side, seemingly doing his best to block curious eyes.
"Best get you onto the train, I think," Padfoot muttered. "Everyone's just going to stare if you stand around here."
The four of them found a compartment down the end and Padfoot passed Hedwig off to Ginny so he could help Ron lift his trunk, Ginny's, and Harry's up into the rack. Harry stood awkwardly in the door of the compartment, feeling rather useless, left arm still hidden in his jumper. Ginny seemed to know what he was thinking, and elbowed him.
Harry scowled at her and she pulled a face back.
"I'm going to go and say bye to Mum and Dad," Ron said, as Draco, Hermione, and Dora appeared in the corridor. "Otherwise I'll never hear the end of it…"
"Tell them bye from me?" Harry said, not feeling up to braving the masses again, and Ron nodded:
"'Course." He squeezed out past Hermione, with Ginny on his heels, and Padfoot and Dora wrangled the additional trunks away.
"Got your mirror?" Padfoot asked. Harry nodded, hand dropping to his pocket. "Good; keep me updated. I want to know what Umbridge is doing and saying, about any dreams you have, what the elves make for dinner… the important things." That coaxed a smile out of Harry, and Padfoot smiled too and stepped in to hug him. "Look after each other, all right?"
"Yeah," Harry said.
"If we must," Draco said. Harry pulled a face at him and then grinned as Draco dodged a swat from Hermione.
"Of course we will," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. Padfoot released Harry and pulled her into a tight hug. "Thanks for having me this summer," she said.
"Any time," Padfoot said, and then hugged Draco. "That goes for you too. And you'll walk— whatever line you need to walk with your family, but if it gets to be too much…"
"Thank you, Black," Draco said.
"Chin up," Dora said, wrapping her arms around Harry. He gave her hands a squeeze. "Let us know when the first match of the year is, won't you?"
"If I'm on the team," Harry said.
"If you're not, we'll come and watch it with you anyway," Dora said. "You can run a private commentary, just for us—"
Padfoot snorted:
"He'll be on the team—" The train's whistle sounded. "That's us, Mrs Lupin."
Out the window, Harry saw Ron, Ginny, and the twins pull away from Mr and Mrs Weasley, Bill, Marlene, and Fleur. Mrs Weasley spotted Harry through the window and waved. He waved back and she beamed.
"Christmas!" Bill mouthed from beside her, tapping his arm. Harry nodded.
Padfoot gave Harry one last hug and ruffled his hair, and then let Dora usher him past a returning Ron and Ginny.
Then they were off the train, and the train started to roll forward.
"Off we go," Draco muttered.