sam_storyteller (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sam_storyteller) wrote2005-07-07 02:01 pm
sam_storyteller) wrote2005-07-07 02:01 pm
Entry tags:
Laocoon's Children, Year Two, 1 - 3
Summary: The events of the second Harry Potter book, retold through the alternate-universe lens of Stealing Harry.
Rating: R
Warnings: Violence towards children, some gore; nothing worse than what you find in the books.
Also available at AO3.
***
9 Aug 1992
Rome, Italy
Dear Andromeda,
Thank you for your letter dated 2nd August. I apologise for having been over a week in replying; the owl arrived, apparently rather exhausted, after I had left for Florence, and my inept landlord felt that it would clearly be pointless to attempt to send it onward. I am well, and Florence was interesting, if -- as all Italian cities seem to be -- overcrowded with tourists and automobiles. I cannot fathom the pleasure in strapping one's body into a deathtrap of steel and glass and hurtling oneself down the roadways at excessive speeds. Then again, I suppose Muggles must take their entertainment where they find it.
As soon as I finish this letter, I begin packing to leave; I must be back at Hogwarts early to prepare for the new school year and, as always, improve on the shoddy housekeeping the house-elves will have committed on my rooms in my absence. I shall be Apparating to France and traveling by broomstick across the Channel; I intend to lodge in a small seaside town that night, Apparate to London in the morning, and collect a few supplies in Diagon Alley before taking the evening train northward. I will be lunching at noon at the Leaky Cauldron, if you and your family would care to join me on the 12th. If not, I will stop by Tonks&Tonks, as I have a parcel to deliver.
I am, as I have assured you before and will continue to assure you, completely recuperated and in excellent health. If you continue to pester me on the subject I shall have no choice but to produce a Healer's note to that effect. In the same vein, I hope Nymphadora continues her recovery.
Give my salutations to your family, though I suspect you would have at any rate.
Severus Snape
***
Dear Neville!!!
OWL POST!!!
Sirius and Remus say Headmaster Dumbledore FINALLY gave permission for me to send you a letter now that we're going to be going back to school soon anyway, since my Hogwarts letter has arrived! Did you get yours? I can't tell you when I'm coming to Diagon Alley but I AM! To get books and supplies and new robes and to see you and everyone.
I missed everyone this summer but I had a lot of fun too! I'm sending you some drawings I did of Sirius being silly. And also one of Snakes snakeskins since if they shed them whole they're supposed to be really lucky. I got to help out in a bookshop in town and we went camping in the big stone circle near here for my birthday last week and this summer all the other boys and me made up a Football team and flattened a team from one town over at it even though we were smaller. Football's like Quidditch only without bludgers and a Snitch and played on the ground and you can't touch the ball except with your feet and head. I miss Quidditch.
Also someone bought a farm next to our house and they had HORSES! which I got to help feed sometimes. And I'm sending you some feathers too from the chickens they're keeping.
I have to go write to Padma and Draco and some other people now. Remus says to tell Andromeda to talk to Dumbledore if she wants to know when we're coming and they're going to move back in with her and Ted for the year unless they already let out the flat, but Sirius is sending her a letter anyway so I don't guess you need to.
OWL POST!!!!!
Harry
***
August 12, 1992
12 Grimmauld Place
Dear Sirius,
I was so glad to have a letter from the three of you at last! It's good to hear that you're all well and apparently happy. I hope this letter actually reaches you -- Dumbledore says you'll pick it up at its destination, but you know how unreliable Muggle post can be.
We're all well here, more or less, though in some cases a bit less than more. I don't know if news had reached you but Dora had a fairly severe accident in early July, and has been off active duty with the Aurors; she was discharged from hospital on Harry's birthday, as a matter of fact, and she's been resting up here ever since. Not to worry, however. Though she's been in residence in what we all think of as "your" flat, she's moving out in a few days, since she's found a new position until she fully recovers and the Aurors are ready to put her back on duty. It may be some time, but the Healers are optimistic about a full recovery.
Neville also caught Kneazlepox, but it was a mild case and we all decided it was better he get it while young, so he spent a miserable, itchy week in bed and a slightly less itchy but still miserable week on the sofa, and now he's up and running around, as healthy as ever. He's been writing to his friends regularly and we had Padma Patil to stay in July, to keep him company while Ted and I were visiting St. Mungo's every day (what a sweet girl she is, though she does come up with all the really innovative trouble they get into). Draco's here now, and will be until school starts; he seems well enough, but I suspect living alone with his mother and a handful of house-elves isn't good for the boy. She's taught him all the proper things for "a well-reared young pureblood" to do and say, but he doesn't seem to be very good with kids his own age -- barring Neville, and I assume Harry and Padma. I'm glad you'll be here before school starts; he's already asked after you twice.
So your flat will be free for you to use, and I've spoken to the headmaster about your arrival; we'll be waiting on the train platform with open arms and have a hot dinner ready. If there's anything you need -- toothbrushes, towels, that sort of thing -- let me know and I'll make sure we're stocked up. Give my love to Remus (tell him I'm fascinated by the book idea!) and of course, lots of hugs for Harry. He's quite the little artist, isn't he? His drawings of you are tacked up in Neville's room, and the portrait he sent me of Padfoot has a place of honour in the living room next to Neville's Herbology exam (full marks! Ted's very proud, you know he was always very good at Herbology also).
Love and impatience for you to arrive,
Andromeda
PS: We had lunch with Severus today. I thought Harry would appreciate knowing that his Professor seems to be in excellent health -- Italy was good for him. He left us a stack of photographs that Harry will enjoy, and brought Ted and myself a basket of amazing Italian foodstuffs.
I'm sure you'll be jubilant to know that his lunch was dampened somewhat by the news Dora had to tell -- but I'll let her tell you herself when you get here.
***
4 August 1992
Board of Governors, Hogwarts School
Ministry Department of Education, London
Ministry of Magic, office 2204
Sec'ty of Board Albert Potblack
To:
Nymphadora O. Tonks
12 Grimmauld Place
London
Ms Tonks,
It is my pleasure to inform you that, pending your acceptance of our offer (enclosed) and return of Board of Governors contract (attached) you are hereby employed as Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please notify us of your decision as soon as possible, as the hiring deadline has already passed and this procedure is therefore highly unusual.
If you accept, you will be expected to arrive at Hogwarts School no later than the fifteenth of August in order to attend the Yearly Planning Session and file your lesson plans in a timely manner. Our information packet (book enclosed) will provide you with everything you need: train tickets to Hogwarts, credit at Flourish & Blotts for educational supplies, credit at Madam Malkin's or Tonks&Tonks for professors' robes, and codes of conduct for the school faculty.
On a personal note, Ms Tonks, allow me to tell you how much I enjoyed our meeting. To be frank, most of the board thought Gilderoy Lockhart was a much better choice, but I think Albus Dumbledore made the right decision in putting his support behind you, even though Lockhart was already all but signed. I wish you nothing but good luck in the coming year, and although I understand your tenure will be of temporary duration until your recovery is complete, I hope you will enjoy your time as a teacher at Hogwarts.
Sincerely,
Albert Potblack
Secretary to the Board of Governors of Hogwarts School
By appointment of the Ministry Department of Education
***
Years afterward, Harry Potter would describe his first school summer holiday in Betwys Beddau as idyllic. When Neville asked him what he meant, he was hard-pressed to say, but he finally settled for the explanation that it was the last summer when they were all children.
This may have been slightly inaccurate and was certainly ironic; it wasn't as though they were innocent babes in arms. In their first year at school, Harry and his small band had decapitated a dead man, painted several fifth-year Gryffindors with indelible green ink, and narrowly averted a catastrophe of massive proportions. Still, those had been...adventures.
At any rate, that time stood out in Harry's mind as a wonderful summer, despite his initial disappointment that he would not be spending it in London. He had a long list of books to read, and he spent whole days at a time basking in the sun with Snake, reading and practicing his drawing. He was allowed to run wild so long as he stayed within the borders of the town, and besides he had Padfoot with him almost all of the time.
The natives of Betwys Beddau had missed the peculiar family -- the little black-haired boy and his likewise black-haired godfather, the quiet cousin who lived with them and worked at the bookshop sometimes, and their big black Newf who was always joining in the football games (such a clever dog). They were outsiders, of course, but the village owned them and was very proprietary -- they were, as one woman once said while discussing the finer aspects of Sirius Black's arse with a friend, Betwys Beddau's outsiders.
Whether Sirius and Remus were satisfied to leave London behind for a provincial Muggle village, they didn't say, but Harry thought Remus slept more calmly than he had in London. Which of course meant that Sirius slept better as well.
Despite the pleasant weather and the freedom to do exactly as they pleased, when the big brown barn owl fluttered down onto Sirius' shoulder and dropped a letter on top of the book he was reading, one day early in August, Harry felt as though someone had thrown them a lifeline back to wizarding civilisation.
"School letter!" Sirius said cheerfully, sailing it across the expanse of grass to where Harry was holding a solemn conference with several snakes who lived at the bottom of the garden. His habit of talking to snakes had unnerved Sirius, years ago, but since the snakes kept the garden free of rodents and Snake kept the house bug-less, he tolerated them. Today, Harry had translated, the subject concerned a shrub which had grown over the best basking rock, and whether Harry would consent to trim it back.
Harry picked up the letter and, with a hiss that sent the other snakes wandering off, opened it. Snake, in his place of honour on Harry's collar, slithered over his ear.
"Go on then," Sirius said to the barn owl which was still perched placidly on his shoulder. The owl shook itself and hooted at Harry.
"Letter for you, too," Harry said. He tossed a thick envelope to Sirius, and a smaller, slightly crumpled one on Remus' chest, where the other man lay sleeping. "Probably waiting for a return letter."
"All right then, but he doesn't need to use me as a perch," Sirius said. Just then another owl appeared and landed on his other shoulder. "You bloody nuisances!"
"Look, it's Hedwig!" Harry cried, as the snowy owl ruffled her feathers cheerfully. The barn owl hooted at her and flew off, as if that was all he'd been waiting for in the first place.
"You're looking fine, Beautiful," Sirius said, lifting her onto his arm and stroking her head with a fingertip. "Did Andromeda take good care of you?"
Hedwig deposited yet another letter and flapped to the ground, landing on the stone back-porch where Sirius had been lounging. She pecked at the door, and Sirius opened it enough for her to slip inside.
"Come on, we'd better feed her. Wake the lazybones, Harry, would you?" Sirius asked, tucking the letters into his pocket and following the owl down the hallway into the kitchen at the front of the house. Harry nudged Remus, who trailed inside sleepily.
Sirius set out a bowl of water and another with some cold leftover mutton in it, which Hedwig ate daintily while they sat at the table.
"Let's see what the news is," Sirius said, peering over Harry's shoulder. "Letter, booklist, ticket -- looks in order, eh?"
Harry glanced up at him and grinned as he nodded his agreement. "What'd you get?"
"Letter from Dumbledore -- looks like some press clippings, probably about our disappearance -- and..." Sirius' brow furrowed. "Something from some art studio, forwarded on by Andromeda."
"Probably wrongly addressed," Remus said. "What's Andromeda say?"
"She doesn't, other than to write her," Sirius said, setting aside the letter from the studio. "Dumbledore says...well, he says we're all right to return to London and get some of Harry's school things -- and we can move out of Betwys Beddau for the school year at least. Apparently there's been no sign of Pettigrew since the end of June."
"That doesn't seem right," Remus said. "If I were Peter I'd want all the publicity I could get. You know how he was."
"Mmh...could be a trap, but Dumbledore says he thinks he's being distracted by other things. Says to write back and let him know when we're arriving and the Tonkses will meet us in London."
"Distracted?" Remus rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "That's a rather big risk."
"Well, it's not my words," Sirius answered. "What's your letter?"
Remus turned the envelope over in his hands, studying it. "It's from St. Mungo's..." he slit the wax open and unfolded the parchment. "Hmm. Nothing important," he said, folding it and giving Sirius a significant look. "Due for a checkup, that's all."
Sirius nodded, and Harry looked confused for a moment before being distracted by the press clippings. "Look, Sirius, here's one about you."
Sirius accepted the article from Harry. "Wanted, Dead Or Alive," he read. "How utterly tasteless. Look, Moony, it's a wanted poster for me."
"Well, you did go missing and you neglected to notify the press," Remus chuckled. "It's a flattering photograph. There'll be a feeding frenzy among the society columnists when we go back to London. I'm starving," he added. "Who wants waffles?"
Harry grinned and ran into the kitchen, where they heard him clanging about as he unearthed several metal bowls in his quest for the waffle iron.
"I'm due for my five-year test," Remus said to Sirius, over the racket. "I'll schedule it for after Harry leaves."
"I'll come with you," Sirius answered. "Maybe you ought to take Harry school shopping -- you draw less of a crowd," he said apologetically.
"It's a good idea -- well, we could always disguise you," Remus grinned, just as there was a splashing noise from the kitchen.
"Sounds like the milk spilled," Sirius said. "I'll go help -- sit, man, you're two days from the full moon."
"I'm not an invalid," Remus grumbled, but he did look grateful as he sank into the dining-room chair.
His movement stirred the press clippings that had spread themselves across the table, and he sorted them slowly into order, studying each one. Most of them were frivolous enough -- this person or that speculating about where Sirius Black had absconded to with his young godson. A few concerned Tonks&Tonks, the clothes shop that Andromeda and Ted ran out of the old Black house on Grimmauld Place, and one of them was a mention of Nymphadora receiving some kind of merit award. Most of the ones with photos attached featured Harry's face, or the classic Black profile that Sirius and Andromeda both shared; he paused when he came across one that had his own face, cropped from a photo someone had snapped of him and Sirius having dinner with Harry last Christmas holiday. After a moment he separated that one out, held it flat on the palm of his hand, and gave it an intense, concentrated stare.
"What's burning in here?" Sirius asked, carrying in the first plate of waffles hot from the iron. Harry followed behind, precariously carrying a pot of honey, a jar of pumpkin preserve, and a butter dish.
"Nothing," Remus replied with a real smile. He dusted some fluffy white ash off his hands quickly, plucking the butter dish out of the air and allowing Sirius to present him with the best waffle of the batch.
***
Daily Prophet........28 July 1992
SIRIUS BLACK'S MYSTERIOUS MANSERVANT: WHO IS LUPIN?
Rita Skeeter, Feature Columnist
Much has been written about handsome young playboy Sirius Black, heir to the Black fortunes and guardian of the Boy Who Lived. Black, who divides his time between an undisclosed summer chateau and a luxurious flat above the Tonks&Tonks department store (owned by his cousin Andromeda Tonks) is considered an extremely private man. He has always declined interviews with various news sources and is demonstrably protective of his young charge, who will be entering his second year at the prestigious Hogwarts School in the autumn.
There is, however, a shadow hanging over -- or rather, following behind -- Sirius Black. His mysterious manservant, Remus Lupin, can often be seen in the background -- of photographs taken of Mr Black, of articles written about him and his godson. Hovering always in the shadows, the silent Mr Lupin appears as a sort of butler-bodyguard; he rarely speaks, never smiles for the photographs, and is almost never acknowledged openly by either Black or Potter.
Who is Remus Lupin?
Your devoted columnist has been hard at work uncovering information about Mr. Lupin, which it must be said is carefully guarded; his medical file at St Mungo's is under lock and key, his employment history outside of Black's payroll is sketchy and vague, and his educational records are confidential. A fellow student of Black's at Hogwarts, Lupin is remembered by most as a "plain, quiet sort of fellow" and a "decent prefect", faint praise indeed for a Gryffindor whose friends included archvillain Peter Pettigrew and martyred hero James Potter.
Could it be that Remus Lupin has some sort of hold over an old school chum? Can it be blackmail, dear readers?
What dark secret does Remus John Lupin hide underneath his quiet exterior, and why does Black keep him so close? Is he merely a highly-paid confidential employee, or is he benefiting from knowing where a rich man's skeletons are buried?
***
"Did you ever open the letter Andromeda sent on?" Remus asked as he undressed for bed that evening. Sirius took a moment to appreciate the line of his spine as he bent to shed his trousers, then answered.
"Not yet -- put it around here somewhere..." he reached for the nightstand, where the letter was already doing bookmark service in his latest reading. "Probably some kind of junk mail."
"You'd think she'd know what to forward, though," Remus answered. He slipped the pyjama bottoms up over his hips and sat on the bed, falling back to rest his head on Sirius' stomach comfortably. "I'm curious."
"Well, we can fix that," Sirius replied, deftly tearing off the end and shaking out a thin but expensive-looking sheet of paper. "They probably just want to sell me a portrait of myself. Dear Mr. Black, Heir of the Most Noble and et cetera et cetera, patronage of your excellent mother and father -- that's sucking up, that is, nobody who ever met my mother would say that -- understand that your thirty-third birthday is approaching and..." Sirius stared at the letter.
"And?" Remus prompted. "Bit nervous about thirty-three, are we?"
"It has come to our attention," Sirius read, "That you have not yet made an appointment with our studio, and we would like to inquire if you plan on doing so in the near future. Our patented Dorian Gray portraiture process, as we are sure you are aware, preserves the youthfulness of the Wizard painted well into his tenth or eleventh decade if handled with proper care, but requires two to three weeks to complete. Due to your family's long history with the Broosh&Chakle portrait studio, and your approach to the age when portraits are generally taken, we are pleased to offer you the same service -- oh bloody hell, I remember this now..."
"Who're Broosh&Chakle?" Remus inquired, studying the dismay in Sirius' face.
"Dead," Sirius replied. "It's just the studio name now. They do portraits like my mum's -- d'you remember?"
"Vaguely. Didn't it shout nasty things at you?"
"More than nasty," Sirius said grimly. "I had some specialists in to remove it. There's a charm done so that the portrait does most of the aging, and the subject stays more or less the way they are until the portraits begins to disintegrate or they die. It's not perfect, but it's popular with the noble families. My father had his done at thirty because he thought he looked respectable enough to get good tables at the best restaurants and young enough to get the waitresses on the side," Sirius sighed. "It's a petty vanity."
Remus sat up and smiled at him. "Going to do it?"
Sirius looked shocked. "Of course not, why would I? I'm not a lecher or a bigot, and I don't need to hide those things like they did."
"Yes, but..." Remus shrugged. "I mean...you shouldn't not do it just because your family did it."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Remus took his hand, weaving their fingers together. "I don't care if you look thirty-three the rest of your life or ninety-three. But you are extremely handsome, Sirius -- "
" -- Moony -- "
" -- and if you throw away that letter, I want it to be because you don't want it, and not because of anything your family did or didn't do," Remus continued. "Your family shouldn't haunt you the rest of your life."
"They don't," Sirius said sullenly. He sat up too, resting his forehead against Remus', one hand reaching up to stroke through his hair. "And I like grey hair," he added teasingly, separating out the silvery strands that were beginning to thread more and more through the pale brown. "Do you want me to have one done?"
"Merlin, I told you. I don't care," Remus answered. "But I'm sure you can afford it, and it's a family tradition that does you no harm, and I think it would be sweet, in a rather vain fashion, which is really the phrase that best describes you at any rate."
Sirius gave him a light tap on the cheek for that, and Remus laughed.
"Sleep on it," he advised. "See what you think tomorrow."
Sirius sighed and laid back again, and Remus curled around him, drawing the light summer blankets up over their bodies.
"I was thinking of charming it brown," Remus said after a while.
"Charming what brown?" Sirius asked sleepily.
"My hair. It doesn't mean anything, it's just the lycanthropy. I could charm it out pretty easily."
"I like it."
"Liar."
"I told you I did," Sirius said. Remus snorted. "I do. Makes you easy to pick out in a crowd."
Remus laughed and said something about something Sirius didn't quite catch, because he was slipping down into sleep.
***
When Draco Malfoy arrived at the train platform, Andromeda Tonks had taken one look at him and silently cursed her sister. He looked healthy enough, but he was pale and more gaunt than any twelve-year-old ought to be; clearly Narcissa wasn't feeding the boy properly, and the first thing Andromeda did once they were home was sit him down and bring him and Neville tea while Ted made some rather enormous sandwiches.
"Doesn't she feed you?" Andromeda asked, as Draco eagerly tackled his second sandwich. "I know you have house-elves who cook."
"Yeah," Draco said, after swallowing and setting his sandwich down. Never let it be said she hadn't taught the boy manners, at any rate. "She's been remodeling. The kitchen was the last to go."
"Remodeling? Why?" Andromeda asked, faintly amused. "It's not as though she does a lot of entertaining, Draco."
He shrugged. "Why's she do anything? I don't know. Anyway, it means she spent the summer shouting at the workmen who were doing the redecoration charms and not me. Then she decided to do the kitchen, so Mendy hasn't had anywhere to cook. So we've been mostly eating cold leftover soup and porridge -- we had bread for a while, but we ran out...anyway, Mum told her not to make sandwiches."
"Your mum's nuts," Neville said. Andromeda gave him a sharp look. "Well, she is. Go on, tell her why you couldn't have sandwiches."
"Because they're barbaric," Draco recited, then took another enormous bite out of the one in front of him. "And they're a Muggle invention."
"So is underwear," Ted said, winking at Draco, and the boys laughed. "I'd like to see her face if she found that out."
"Well, you're here now," Andromeda said, daintily eating a crisp. "And as you know I'm a terrible influence on the family, so you say what you'd like to eat and we'll fix it. You are, however, required to wear underwear in the house."
This brought on another wave of laughter from the boys, and after Draco had finished his sandwich she sent them off to Neville's room to play. Once they were gone, their voices (and occasional faint thumps and explosions) muffled by the door, she looked at Ted, who looked back seriously.
"I think perhaps we should talk to Dora about this," she said. "Clearly he's being maltreated, Ted. Aurors have the right to do inspections and take custody of children who're being abused."
"This isn't like Neville, love," Ted answered, sipping his now-cold tea thoughtfully. "Narcissa has a lot of power, whether or not she's gone absolutely round the twist, and she could probably get Dora out of a job if she really tried. Besides, Dora's not -- "
"I have power and influence too. The boy was starving!"
"It'd be hard to prove that. She was feeding him, and she had an excuse. Besides, who's to say taking him away might not be worse? You've seen what they do to children, Andromeda -- look what they did to poor Harry when his parents died, shipped him off to live with Muggles."
"I'm his closest relation -- "
"But you're also a disowned Black."
Andromeda looked at him, shocked.
"Sirius hasn't adopted Harry. If he dies, Draco gets everything that's entailed, as the next male in the line. If you were to try to get custody of him, a lot of people might think it was suspicious. This isn't just child-care, Andromeda, it's politics."
"To hell with politics!"
"You say that now, but I don't want to see Draco put in some Muggle orphanage somewhere. We've got him now," Ted continued, soothingly. "We'll feed him up before school starts and he'll stay here or at school for the winter holidays. Narcissa won't even see him until next June, and by that time I'm sure the remodeling will be over."
Andromeda rested her chin on one hand. "I don't like it, Ted."
"I know, but you can't go around taking in stray puppies when they already have owners," he said, and rose to kiss her forehead. "I'm going to go down to the market and buy some supplies for dinner. Lamb and new potatoes sound good?"
"And get some eggs, he likes omelettes."
Ted gave her a grin and a salute, and vanished down the stairs. From Neville's room came another explosion and a shriek of laughter; starving or not, he was in good spirits now.
***
"Harry!"
The shout was the first sign they had that they'd been sighted; Remus, who was a good deal taller than Harry and a bit taller than Sirius, shaded his eyes and then pointed in the direction most of the passengers leaving the train were headed.
"There they are," he said. "Neville's spotted you -- no you don't," he added, catching Harry by the shoulder as the boy began to run in the direction he'd pointed. "Not going to lose you in this crowd, Harry."
Neville broke through the sea of people then, followed closely by Draco and Ted; there were a few minutes of confused greetings before Ted pulled them out of the way of other people disembarking, over to where Andromeda and Dora were standing near a newspaper stand.
"Hello Sirius," Andromeda said, giving him a hug, and Remus a kiss on the cheek. "Welcome back. Hi Harry!"
"Hi Aunt Andromeda!" Harry said, looking up from his huddle with his friends. "Hi Dora!"
"Hi Harry," Nymphadora said, with a grin. "Wotcha, Sirius, Remus."
"How's the invalid?" Sirius asked.
"If I wasn't leaning on it, I'd shake my cane at you," she said.
"We told her she could wait at home, but she refused," Ted put in. "Course it means I'll have to carry her back -- " He ducked Dora's well-aimed swat.
"I can walk just fine, thank you," she said. "It's good for me."
"Have you got bags we should be collecting?" Andromeda asked, gently steering the boys towards the exit.
"Moody's sending up our boxes in a few days, so we just brought the essentials," Sirius answered. "We're leaving the furnishings there this time -- going to have to buy some new things for the flat."
"How was your summer?" Ted asked.
"Provincial," Remus murmured wryly.
"Pleasant," Sirius corrected. "Harry got a lot of reading done for school, and Remus paid service to his work ethic by being gainfully employed, and I slept a lot."
"How do you manage such a stressful life," Andromeda asked with a laugh. "I suppose your plans for the year include sleeping a lot, as well?"
"I thought it might be a part of the schedule," Sirius replied.
They ambled towards Diagon Alley, their pace set by Dora, who was as she'd promised walking fine, albeit slowly. While Neville and Harry compared notes on their respective pets, with Snake curled around Harry's ear and Trevor placidly croaking in Neville's pocket, Draco hung back a little until he was walking just ahead of Sirius.
"Wotcha, Draco," Sirius said, ruffling his white-blond hair. "Keeping out of trouble?"
"Yes," Draco answered. "Mostly."
"Only mostly?"
"The boys think it's fun to try and sneak into Knockturn Alley," Ted said, only mildly disapprovingly.
"Well, it is," Sirius agreed. "Trying, anyhow."
"Don't encourage them." Ted rolled his eyes. "Still, I suppose it keeps them occupied. And now they've got Harry to distract them, don't they, Harry?" he called. Harry, who was showing Neville some trick Snake had learned, shot him a grin before returning to the conversation.
"Harry nearly got us in a world of trouble a few weeks ago," Sirius said, gallantly offering Dora his arm when she stumbled a bit. She glared at him and looked disdainful of it, and he shrugged. "We were at a dinner with some of his football friends -- their parents are always throwing dinners -- "
" -- trying to set him up with an appropriate mother for Harry," Remus added, smiling.
" -- thank you, I'll tell the story," Sirius replied. "We were at this dinner and the boys were talking about school -- they all go to the local comprehensive, except one or two -- and one of the boys turned to Harry and asked what was so special about Hogwarts, what they teach there."
"Oh, dear..." Andromeda said, stifling a grin.
"Harry, cool as you like, turned to the boy and said he was learning how to be a wizard. I thought the Ministry was going to swoop down on us then and there," Sirius recounted, shaking his head. "I couldn't believe he just out and said it, he's always so good about being discreet. And of course the parents are laughing, but the boys all seemed to believe him. So another boy piped up and said there wasn't any such thing, and Harry said there was, and the first boy said he ought to prove it."
"He didn't."
"Well, he didn't have his wand, not that it would have worked anyway, and he knows the rules about underaged wizardry, so I wasn't too worried, but he got that look in his eye like he's about to pull a fast one -- "
" -- not at all like the look you get when you're about to do that, I'm sure -- "
"And he pointed at the boy in question and said Jiggery pokery mumbletypeg!"
Andromeda and Ted burst out laughing.
"And would you believe it, he was so intent and serious about it that the other boy nearly wet his pants in fright and spent the rest of the evening worrying he was going to be turned into a frog."
"When everyone knows that Jiggery pokery mumbletypeg is the incantation to turn someone into a cat," Remus added, grinning. "Fake or not, it almost gave Sirius and me heart attacks."
"Speaking of which," Sirius said, "We haven't had any details on Dora's accident -- Dumbledore sent us some clippings, but nothing about the injury. What happened?"
"Oh, it's so stupid," Dora sighed.
"Heroic, sweetheart, the word is 'heroic'," Ted said.
"Stupid," Dora replied. "We had a call that someone had got into one of the animal pens at the London Magical Zoo, and so Kingsley and Medder and Callie and I all went down to see what had happened. As it turns out, Dung Fletcher had tried to sneak into the Ashwinder pen and fell into the Grindylow pond instead. Well, you know how those little buggers are -- "
"Language around the children," Ted said quietly.
"Sorry dad -- you know how they are, they get hold of you and won't let go, so Kingsley sent me in because I can change my shape a bit if I get grabbed. We didn't know," she said, aggrieved, "that I'm one of the one-in-twelve who are allergic to Grindylow bites. In I went, and while I was trying to get Dung free, one of them latched onto my leg and wouldn't let go. I kicked it a bit and broke its fingers -- all the zoo people are very upset, seems they think their precious Grindylow is more important than my leg -- and it let go and they all started biting me..."
"The end result of which," Ted supplied, as Dora sighed in frustration, "was that Kingsley had to go in and fetch both of them out since Dung still had a Grindylow hanging tight to his -- er -- "
"His danglers," Dora said, sounding satisfied. "He'd cast an invisibility charm, so he was naked -- "
Remus and Sirius winced in sympathy.
"Anyway," Ted said hastily, "Kingsley and Dora between the two of them managed to get Dung out all right, and then Dora went and passed out from anaphylactic shock. The Healers only just got to her in time."
"It was touch and go for a few days," Andromeda said softly.
"I'm fine," Dora announced to no-one in particular. "It's just taking a while to get back on my feet, that's all. And the Aurors say I ought to take it easy for a few months, so I'm on medical pension and they helped me find something to keep me sharp while I do all the recovery stuff."
"Andromeda mentioned that in her letter, what are you up to?" Remus inquired.
"I'm going to be teaching," she replied. "I'm the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts. I'm really only down for the day, then I've got to get back -- thought I'd see you lot, and pick up my professors' robes."
"You're the new Defence teacher?" Sirius asked.
"Congratulations!" Remus said. "Good, you can keep an eye on Harry, make sure he's not getting into too much trouble."
"I bet Snape about bit his tongue off when he heard," Sirius mused.
"He wasn't too happy," Andromeda admitted. "Of course he's happy for Dora, but -- "
"He'd like to see her dead in a ditch so he can have the post?" Remus asked, with a mischievous grin.
"Something like that," Dora answered, equally mischievous. "I'm sorry if he thinks I took his job, but he wasn't even the one I beat out for the post -- you know Gilderoy Lockhart?"
"The one who writes all the adventure and how-to books?" Sirius asked. "Don't tell me Dumbledore was considering him."
"Sirius is just bitter because Lockhart beat him out for Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile award," Remus grinned.
"Well, there aren't a lot of people who'd take the job," Andromeda said. "I don't know why they keep turning down Severus, he's more than qualified, but apart from him, only Lockhart applied, and then they switched him out for our Dora at the last minute. Apparently Dumbledore would rather have her. Can't say I blame him," she added proudly.
"It's not that big a deal," Dora said, but she flushed happily. "It's just for a year, anyhow. I'll take my requalification exams right after the school year ends."
"I'm glad she's taking some time off," Ted said quietly to Sirius, as Harry turned around to demand if it was true that Dora was going to be a teacher. "It was quite a shock to Andromeda and me. I don't think Dora herself knows quite how close we came to losing her."
"I wish we could have been here," Sirius answered. "She's all right now, though, isn't she?"
"She's getting there. Been a dangerous summer, really. First Severus' heart nearly gave out -- did you hear about that?"
"We knew he was ill," Sirius said noncommittally.
"Well, that was a worry, though apparently he's recovered. And then Dora was attacked, and Neville caught the Kneazlepox...I'll be a bit glad when school starts and Andromeda can let Madam Pomfrey fret about everyone for a while."
"As if Andromeda would trust anyone else with her children," Sirius said with a grin. "Let me know when she's planning on sending a care package, and I'll chip in a few Galleons."
"Here we are then," Andromeda said, as they arrived at the front door of the Leaky Cauldron. "Ted, you take everyone through and down to the shop, I'm just going to have a word with Tom about buying some wine for dinner."
"Right, everyone, this way," Ted said, leading the little band towards the back and out through the receding brick wall, into Diagon Alley. "There's a roast in the oven and Neville and Draco made a giant pudding -- sugared violets and all -- "
"Home!" Harry cried happily, and Sirius caught Remus grinning even wider than he was as they emerged back into the wizarding world.
***
"I am not fond of moving. In fact, you know what? I hate moving."
Sirius grinned and charmed another box into the air, landing it on the kitchen counter so that he wouldn't have to bend over to open it. "Dishes or books?" he asked, pointing at the box.
"Two Sickles says crockery," Remus answered, maneuvering the new bookshelves into place along the wall opposite. The delivery wizards had left them in the middle of the living room, and Remus was grumbling about having to rearrange them.
"Ah! You owe me two Sickles, it's toys," Sirius replied.
"That wasn't part of the bet, and what toys? I thought we left most of Harry's in Betwys Beddau."
Sirius grinned and held up a smaller box he'd taken from inside the larger, which read Madam Schaeffer's Architectural Building Blocks. "These're your toys."
"Oh, grand! I was hoping those wouldn't get left behind," Remus said, abandoning the bookshelves for the much more entertaining box of blocks. He opened it at once and began removing little wooden buttresses, columns with changeable capitals, and thin arrow-slit windowframes.
"Going to build a cathedral?" Sirius asked as he unpacked the rest of the box -- a few tea towels wrapped around some blue-glass ornaments that always sat on their windowsill in Betwys Beddau, and some puzzles from Madam Schaeffer's.
"Just part of one," Remus replied. "Where's the -- there we are," he said, taking out a thin wooden circle with an inset rose-window design. Sirius watched in amusement as the front facade of a church was assembled, Remus' nimble fingers joining the blocks deftly. Finally, he pressed the rose-window into the middle, and set it up on the counter against the wall, murmuring a charm to make the window glow.
"And you accuse me of being nine years old," Sirius said with a grin. Remus matched it, but didn't reply; after a moment he felt Sirius' arm snake around his waist, and the press of his chin on his shoulder.
"I know you missed it. This, the magical world," he continued quietly. "Merlin knows why, since it hasn't been kind to -- "
"It's our home," Remus said swiftly, cutting him off, but he didn't pull away. "Home isn't always easy, but it's always home."
"Mmh. That's true." Sirius nuzzled his neck, and Remus leaned back into the embrace a little, his hands covering Sirius'. "You know, we've been working hard all morning..."
"You just want an excuse not to finish unpacking."
"Well, that doesn't hurt," Sirius agreed. His hands slipped a little lower, and Remus let out a soft breath that wasn't quite a moan. "But I was thinking it's a very old and honourable tradition to christen new furniture -- "
Remus laughed. "I hope you're not meaning the shelves."
"I was thinking of the sofa," Sirius said, pulling him slow backwards towards the living room. It was an awfully nice new sofa; soft upholstery, wide cushions, deep and comfortable. Remus smiled and let himself be moved, turning to face Sirius when their legs bumped against it.
"The boys," he said around a warm, affectionate kiss, the sort Sirius had a naughty habit of turning passionate.
"Gone with Ted," Sirius answered. "Won't be back for hours."
Remus was going to reply, something about locking the door, but Sirius put a hand on his chest and pushed gently, angling him down onto the sofa with his back against the armrest. They were good at this, good at moving together and finding the ways the other fit; good at dancing around and with each other.
It was an informal arrangement, unspoken mostly, but it worked. It had been, once, Remus following Sirius because that was what he'd always done, following Harry because he loved the boy as if he were his own blood. Now it was them, a family -- Remus and Sirius, and their boy Harry, theirs, and it didn't matter for the moment if nobody else knew that.
Sirius had straddled his hips and was kissing his jaw, hands unbuttoning his shirt, pulling it haphazardly out of his trousers; he managed to push Sirius away for long enough to pull off the old t-shirt Sirius wore, fingers working at his belt buckle as Sirius slid warm hands inside Remus' shirt. He had followed Sirius for years, wanting this -- wanting the skate of Sirius' fingers over his ribcage, the spread of his hands over his skin. Sirius loved to touch, and Remus had been starved for it.
He managed to get Sirius' belt undone and shove his trousers down far enough that Sirius hissed with pleasure and fumbled with the zip of Remus' flies, the belt sliding easily over his hips if he sucked in a breath for a minute. He often wondered privately what Sirius thought of him, skinny and scarred and ragtag, but when they were together like this, clothes still half-on, hips arching against each other, breath coming fast against slick skin, hands everywhere at once, stroking, encouraging, exploring --
"Sirius, mum says to -- MERLIN."
Remus gasped and opened his eyes, turning his head to see Dora standing in the doorway, one hand still on the doorknob. Sirius tensed and turned as well, his dark hair brushing Remus' chest tantalisingly even as the horror of the situation washed over them.
Dora was flushed bright red and staring at them; hopefully the fact that their clothing was mostly still on made the situation better, though Remus had a terrible suspicion it somehow made it much worse.
"Dora," Sirius said faintly. "Give us a minute?"
She was still staring. Remus very slowly lifted the corner of his unbuttoned shirt and pulled it across the bits of his chest that weren't covered by Sirius' head.
"Dora," Sirius said.
"Yes?" she asked faintly.
"You've come down from Hogwarts for lunch?"
"Yes..."
"Good to see you. Close the door and tell your mum we'll be down in a few minutes."
She nodded, mutely, and closed the door.
"Dora."
"Yes?"
"Go through the door and then close it, okay?"
When she was gone, Remus leaned his head back against the armrest and laughed. Sirius kissed his collarbone and pushed himself up slightly.
"We should dress," he said regretfully. "They'll be waiting."
Remus could feel heat still against his thigh. "Your cousin doesn't seem to have dampened your enthusiasm much."
"Maybe I'm secretly an exhibitionist," Sirius said with a grin. Remus shifted his weight a little, and Sirius moaned.
"Lunch can wait five minutes," he said, pulling Sirius' head up to kiss him on the mouth. His other hand drifted back down to stroke them both, tantalisingly, and he was pleased to hear Sirius' breath hitch. "Poor Dora..."
"Poor Dora?" Sirius growled, falling into a quick, even rhythm, and Remus shivered happily. "Just think of the show we gave her -- oh -- "
He gasped and came, and Remus nuzzled against his cheek, bucking his hips as he followed. They lay for a minute or two, catching their breath; eventually Remus stretched and murmured a cleaning spell.
"Well," Sirius said, as he pushed himself up and reached for his t-shirt, pulling it on before tugging his pants and trousers up, "I'm starving. You?"
Remus laughed and let Sirius button his shirt for him. "Ravenous."
***
The house was empty and quiet with the workmen gone; Narcissa moved through it like a ghost among ghosts. The sheeted furniture lending an eerie surreality to the rooms, as though it was not a place to live so much as a peculiar indoor graveyard.
Her bedroom was untouched, of course; the bedroom she and Lucius had shared once, the bedroom that didn't change because as much as she hated her husband sometimes, she couldn't bear to part with the shreds of their marriage. For the same reason, as much as she might scream and rave at Draco, she would not send him away without at least a token battle.
Draco was half of her, after all, and she was proud of that, just as she was proud, in a twisted sort of way, that her husband rotted in prison on the Dark Lord's behalf. She had given a husband up to him and did not expect reward for that; she would do better with her son.
She had dreamed of being at the right hand of Lord Voldemort, and if Lucius had abandoned her, Draco would serve just as well.
She stepped into the library -- Lucius' library; like a good Black woman, when she had married she had gone to her husband's house, and nearly everything in it was a Malfoy possession. These were Lucius' books, would one day be Draco's. Some of them sooner than others.
She took a key from around her neck, the key that opened every door in the house, and used it to unlock the little glass cabinet at the back of the library, next to the cold, empty fireplace. These...these were her things. Her little collection of Dark artefacts, carefully arranged and preserved.
Reaching inside, past chalices made of black stone and stands of velvet with ropes of silver chain on them, she found what she was looking for -- a nondescript black diary, a Muggle thing bought in Vauxhall Road decades ago to judge from the year stamped on it.
"Narcissa," said a voice behind her, and she pointedly did not start.
"Walden," she replied, removing the book and locking the cupboard again. "So good of you to come."
"For you, always," he answered. "Your elf let me in."
She turned around and clutched the diary tightly, fingers tapping on the cheap cover.
"Is this it?" he asked, eyeing the plain little book carefully.
"Yes," she answered. He stepped closer. Walden Macnair was like the animals he dealt with, dangerous and unpredictable, and while she loved that, she never knew what to expect....
He lifted the book out of her fingers and placed it carefully in an inner pocket of his leather duster, before shedding the long coat and draping it over a nearby chair. She backed into the cabinet as he came forward, his arms on either side of her shoulders, palms flat against the glass.
"Will it work?" he asked, lips close to hers. He smelled like leather oil and the acrid tang of ground metal; not unpleasant, but always surprising to her.
Macnair was a rangy, weatherbeaten man, with ropy muscles from years of handling and putting-down dangerous animals; surprising too was how firm, how immovable he could be when he pressed against her, how frail she felt in comparison. Everything that Lucius had been -- pale, controlled, calm, vicious -- Walden contrasted. Even his own particular brand of cruelty was animal, predatory but not sadistic.
One of his hands lifted away from the glass -- she'd have to clean it later, she reminded herself -- and gently cupped her breast through the thin straw-coloured robe she wore. She gasped and some of her tension faded away; clearly he was in a good mood tonight.
"I'm not in the habit of failure," she whispered back, as he began to kiss her neck.
***
"Prognosis?"
Madam Pomfrey folded up the small brass device she had, until a few moments before, been holding over Severus Snape's heart, and crossed her arms.
"You're not to exert yourself," she said.
"Do I ever?" he asked, reaching for his shirt. She slapped his hand away, and he gave her a glare of injured dignity.
"I'm not done with you, and I'd like to remind you that if you hadn't exerted yourself last June, you wouldn't be in this predicament now," she replied. "Whatever Pettigrew did to you, Severus, it's had lasting impact."
The worry in his eyes rose a notch, and she shook her head. "Don't fret too much. You're fine, but in order to ensure that you remain fine, I'd like you to take it easy for a few months still."
"Splendid," he growled. "May I put my shirt on now?"
"No. I want to have a look at your lungs."
"My lungs are perfectly functional," he answered, and reached for his shirt again.
"Oh, don't be a big baby, Severus," she replied, unfolding another device, this one silver. He rolled his eyes and held still while she pressed it to one side of his chest and then the other, carefully studying the dials that clicked and whirred as she did so. "You were out in the forest yesterday, and the late-summer damp -- "
"For an hour," he protested. "Two at most. That's hardly enough time to catch cold, let alone some kind of lung ailment."
"That's for me to determine. What were you doing out there?"
"I had business with the centaurs."
"Hmm, the mirrors?"
He gave her a sharp look. "What do you know about them?"
"Severus, it's a small school. I know the Mirror of Ynitsed was broken. The centaurs have been sending messages up to the castle all summer, asking after you. I assumed from the way Dumbledore spoke that they weren't particularly friendly notes."
He was silent as she adjusted a dial.
"Erised has become unstable," he said, after a while. "It no longer shows the heart's desire -- they allowed me to examine it."
She glanced up at his face, worried by his tone. "What does it show?"
"Base desire, as far as I can tell. Violent urges, animal impulses. The centaurs are...upset." He glanced out the nearby window, where one edge of the forest could just barely be seen. "The magic that forged the mirrors is lost, even to them -- they kept repeating 'destiny is shattered'. As though I could do anything about it."
"Have they asked you to do anything about it?" she inquired.
He looked taken aback, as if she had said something he hadn't considered before. "No...no, they didn't, precisely. Are you finished?" he asked abruptly.
"Yes; you may dress now," she said magnanimously. He pulled the white shirt over his head, lacing it in the front, and then followed it with his usual black, buttoning the line of small loops along the arms first, then up his chest. She smiled in amusement as he pulled his professors' robes over them, and wondered how he didn't overheat in all those layers.
"Pomfrey," he said, as he adjusted the robes on his shoulders, "I'd like to ask...."
"Yes?" she said, tidying away the instruments she'd been using.
"How close was it?"
She glanced at him. "How close was what?"
"The hurt I took from Pettigrew. You didn't tell me everything," he said. "You still haven't."
"Mindreading, are we, Severus?" she asked. "Well, I suppose you're entitled to know, now. I didn't want to worry you."
"Am I often in the habit of worrying?" he inquired. "How close was it? To fatal?"
"It was close," she said.
He nodded impassively and fixed the sleeves of the robes. "I'll see you again if I have any troubles. And of course at the welcoming feast."
She gave him a smile, which he returned less enthusiastically before vanishing into the corridor leading away from the hospital wing. As a person he was prickly and rude, as a patient incorrigibly disobedient, but he had a good heart. She had reason to know.
***
There were many nights, even now when he had the measure of Remus Lupin as he hadn't when they'd only been friends, that Sirius felt he was as much his protector as he was...well, whatever you wanted to call what they were. Lover -- or companion, perhaps. Sirius didn't really care to label it.
Ever since they were thirteen, Sirius had been there -- hundreds of dawns he'd kept vigil over a sleeping, pain-wracked body, too young to suffer the monstrous indignities of the lunar change. Since they were fifteen, there had been whole nights when he was one of Remus' packmates, the most peculiar pack a wolf ever kept. He had employed Remus when he was starving, and Sirius was proud that he had never once held that over his head -- had never even thought of it. For the past three years he'd been allowed to sleep beside him, to reach out in the night and touch him if he liked.
Or like tonight, to watch Remus as he dreamed, because returning to London meant returning to the odd, unsettling, prescient dreams that were one more disadvantage of lycanthropy. Whether it was a connection to whatever controlled the way events turned in the world, or a knack for Divination, or some peculiar link with another version of their existence (one in which horrors lay -- twelve years of Azkaban for Sirius, continual torment at the hands of the Dursleys for Harry, a decade and more of solitary poverty for Remus) Sirius didn't care. All he knew was that it had saved Harry's life once, and once had driven Remus on an obsessed search for Peter which had lasted years. Too many times to count, it had robbed him of a decent night's sleep.
Remus shifted a little, head turning on the pillow, eyes moving under his eyelids, and Sirius watched. His mouth was open and a soft cry escaped, but for all Sirius knew he could be dreaming about the afternoon's briefly-interrupted activities. He stretched out a hand and smoothed silver-brown hair back off his forehead, leaning close and whispering soothing nonsense reassurances. Skin cold, almost clammy; perhaps it was no more than a touch of the flu upsetting his sleep.
"Moony," he said softly, "What are you dreaming?"
Remus' eyes opened and it took them a minute to focus; Sirius realised it wasn't just his forehead that was cold -- his whole body was chilled as if he'd come in from a storm. His hands were freezing when Sirius pulled him close, and he tightened the blankets around their shoulders.
"Cold," Remus said.
"It's just a chill -- "
"No -- I was dreaming of cold..."
Sirius gathered as much of the lean, angular body as he could up against him, willing some of his heat into the chill skin.
"Just cold?" he asked, and Remus shook his head. "Just a dream?"
Another headshake. He stayed silent until Remus drew breath, his hands already warmer, his body no longer trembling.
"I was in a classroom," he said softly. "And there was a boy there...not Harry...I couldn't see his face. But I remember feeling so cold. As if just by looking at me, he could freeze me up. And anxious...because I knew who he was, but he didn't know that -- it was -- petrifying..."
"You knew who he was?"
"I knew what he represented," Remus said. "Something horrible -- something poisonous, blood-poison."
"Did he say anything?"
"No, that was a part of it. Fuck, I'm freezing."
Sirius threw his own blankets off and doubled them over the other man, not sure what else to do. He could get up and get heavier blankets, but that would mean leaving him alone in the bed. Instead he leaned back and grasped his wand, which lay haphazardly across the clock on his nightstand. The only warming charm he could remember was one they used to use after Quidditch at school to relax the muscles, but it seemed to work all right; before he could ask if that was better, Remus' body had gone slack against him, and his eyes were closed again.
"All right then, Moony?" he asked, and Remus nuzzled closer, muttering something half-coherently as he dropped off to sleep. After a while, though he had wanted to remain watchful, Sirius slept also.
When he asked, over breakfast the next morning, if Remus remembered waking up in the night, he got a puzzled smile for his pains.
"Why, did I say something stupid in my sleep?" Remus asked, pouring syrup onto his oatmeal.
"No -- just curious if you remembered it," Sirius answered.
"I don't remember, Pads. Maybe you dreamed it."
"Maybe I did."
Just then Harry emerged from his room, yawning and wild-haired, and Sirius was distracted by fixing him breakfast; not that they needed to speak more, he supposed. He was Padfoot, after all, and it was his job to guard Moony; it was what he had done for nearly twenty years. If that meant keeping secrets Moony didn't even know he had, he could live with that. The rewards for being a faithful guardian far outweighed the trouble.
To the Next Part
Rating: R
Warnings: Violence towards children, some gore; nothing worse than what you find in the books.
Also available at AO3.
***
9 Aug 1992
Rome, Italy
Dear Andromeda,
Thank you for your letter dated 2nd August. I apologise for having been over a week in replying; the owl arrived, apparently rather exhausted, after I had left for Florence, and my inept landlord felt that it would clearly be pointless to attempt to send it onward. I am well, and Florence was interesting, if -- as all Italian cities seem to be -- overcrowded with tourists and automobiles. I cannot fathom the pleasure in strapping one's body into a deathtrap of steel and glass and hurtling oneself down the roadways at excessive speeds. Then again, I suppose Muggles must take their entertainment where they find it.
As soon as I finish this letter, I begin packing to leave; I must be back at Hogwarts early to prepare for the new school year and, as always, improve on the shoddy housekeeping the house-elves will have committed on my rooms in my absence. I shall be Apparating to France and traveling by broomstick across the Channel; I intend to lodge in a small seaside town that night, Apparate to London in the morning, and collect a few supplies in Diagon Alley before taking the evening train northward. I will be lunching at noon at the Leaky Cauldron, if you and your family would care to join me on the 12th. If not, I will stop by Tonks&Tonks, as I have a parcel to deliver.
I am, as I have assured you before and will continue to assure you, completely recuperated and in excellent health. If you continue to pester me on the subject I shall have no choice but to produce a Healer's note to that effect. In the same vein, I hope Nymphadora continues her recovery.
Give my salutations to your family, though I suspect you would have at any rate.
Severus Snape
***
Dear Neville!!!
OWL POST!!!
Sirius and Remus say Headmaster Dumbledore FINALLY gave permission for me to send you a letter now that we're going to be going back to school soon anyway, since my Hogwarts letter has arrived! Did you get yours? I can't tell you when I'm coming to Diagon Alley but I AM! To get books and supplies and new robes and to see you and everyone.
I missed everyone this summer but I had a lot of fun too! I'm sending you some drawings I did of Sirius being silly. And also one of Snakes snakeskins since if they shed them whole they're supposed to be really lucky. I got to help out in a bookshop in town and we went camping in the big stone circle near here for my birthday last week and this summer all the other boys and me made up a Football team and flattened a team from one town over at it even though we were smaller. Football's like Quidditch only without bludgers and a Snitch and played on the ground and you can't touch the ball except with your feet and head. I miss Quidditch.
Also someone bought a farm next to our house and they had HORSES! which I got to help feed sometimes. And I'm sending you some feathers too from the chickens they're keeping.
I have to go write to Padma and Draco and some other people now. Remus says to tell Andromeda to talk to Dumbledore if she wants to know when we're coming and they're going to move back in with her and Ted for the year unless they already let out the flat, but Sirius is sending her a letter anyway so I don't guess you need to.
OWL POST!!!!!
Harry
***
August 12, 1992
12 Grimmauld Place
Dear Sirius,
I was so glad to have a letter from the three of you at last! It's good to hear that you're all well and apparently happy. I hope this letter actually reaches you -- Dumbledore says you'll pick it up at its destination, but you know how unreliable Muggle post can be.
We're all well here, more or less, though in some cases a bit less than more. I don't know if news had reached you but Dora had a fairly severe accident in early July, and has been off active duty with the Aurors; she was discharged from hospital on Harry's birthday, as a matter of fact, and she's been resting up here ever since. Not to worry, however. Though she's been in residence in what we all think of as "your" flat, she's moving out in a few days, since she's found a new position until she fully recovers and the Aurors are ready to put her back on duty. It may be some time, but the Healers are optimistic about a full recovery.
Neville also caught Kneazlepox, but it was a mild case and we all decided it was better he get it while young, so he spent a miserable, itchy week in bed and a slightly less itchy but still miserable week on the sofa, and now he's up and running around, as healthy as ever. He's been writing to his friends regularly and we had Padma Patil to stay in July, to keep him company while Ted and I were visiting St. Mungo's every day (what a sweet girl she is, though she does come up with all the really innovative trouble they get into). Draco's here now, and will be until school starts; he seems well enough, but I suspect living alone with his mother and a handful of house-elves isn't good for the boy. She's taught him all the proper things for "a well-reared young pureblood" to do and say, but he doesn't seem to be very good with kids his own age -- barring Neville, and I assume Harry and Padma. I'm glad you'll be here before school starts; he's already asked after you twice.
So your flat will be free for you to use, and I've spoken to the headmaster about your arrival; we'll be waiting on the train platform with open arms and have a hot dinner ready. If there's anything you need -- toothbrushes, towels, that sort of thing -- let me know and I'll make sure we're stocked up. Give my love to Remus (tell him I'm fascinated by the book idea!) and of course, lots of hugs for Harry. He's quite the little artist, isn't he? His drawings of you are tacked up in Neville's room, and the portrait he sent me of Padfoot has a place of honour in the living room next to Neville's Herbology exam (full marks! Ted's very proud, you know he was always very good at Herbology also).
Love and impatience for you to arrive,
Andromeda
PS: We had lunch with Severus today. I thought Harry would appreciate knowing that his Professor seems to be in excellent health -- Italy was good for him. He left us a stack of photographs that Harry will enjoy, and brought Ted and myself a basket of amazing Italian foodstuffs.
I'm sure you'll be jubilant to know that his lunch was dampened somewhat by the news Dora had to tell -- but I'll let her tell you herself when you get here.
***
4 August 1992
Board of Governors, Hogwarts School
Ministry Department of Education, London
Ministry of Magic, office 2204
Sec'ty of Board Albert Potblack
To:
Nymphadora O. Tonks
12 Grimmauld Place
London
Ms Tonks,
It is my pleasure to inform you that, pending your acceptance of our offer (enclosed) and return of Board of Governors contract (attached) you are hereby employed as Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please notify us of your decision as soon as possible, as the hiring deadline has already passed and this procedure is therefore highly unusual.
If you accept, you will be expected to arrive at Hogwarts School no later than the fifteenth of August in order to attend the Yearly Planning Session and file your lesson plans in a timely manner. Our information packet (book enclosed) will provide you with everything you need: train tickets to Hogwarts, credit at Flourish & Blotts for educational supplies, credit at Madam Malkin's or Tonks&Tonks for professors' robes, and codes of conduct for the school faculty.
On a personal note, Ms Tonks, allow me to tell you how much I enjoyed our meeting. To be frank, most of the board thought Gilderoy Lockhart was a much better choice, but I think Albus Dumbledore made the right decision in putting his support behind you, even though Lockhart was already all but signed. I wish you nothing but good luck in the coming year, and although I understand your tenure will be of temporary duration until your recovery is complete, I hope you will enjoy your time as a teacher at Hogwarts.
Sincerely,
Albert Potblack
Secretary to the Board of Governors of Hogwarts School
By appointment of the Ministry Department of Education
***
Years afterward, Harry Potter would describe his first school summer holiday in Betwys Beddau as idyllic. When Neville asked him what he meant, he was hard-pressed to say, but he finally settled for the explanation that it was the last summer when they were all children.
This may have been slightly inaccurate and was certainly ironic; it wasn't as though they were innocent babes in arms. In their first year at school, Harry and his small band had decapitated a dead man, painted several fifth-year Gryffindors with indelible green ink, and narrowly averted a catastrophe of massive proportions. Still, those had been...adventures.
At any rate, that time stood out in Harry's mind as a wonderful summer, despite his initial disappointment that he would not be spending it in London. He had a long list of books to read, and he spent whole days at a time basking in the sun with Snake, reading and practicing his drawing. He was allowed to run wild so long as he stayed within the borders of the town, and besides he had Padfoot with him almost all of the time.
The natives of Betwys Beddau had missed the peculiar family -- the little black-haired boy and his likewise black-haired godfather, the quiet cousin who lived with them and worked at the bookshop sometimes, and their big black Newf who was always joining in the football games (such a clever dog). They were outsiders, of course, but the village owned them and was very proprietary -- they were, as one woman once said while discussing the finer aspects of Sirius Black's arse with a friend, Betwys Beddau's outsiders.
Whether Sirius and Remus were satisfied to leave London behind for a provincial Muggle village, they didn't say, but Harry thought Remus slept more calmly than he had in London. Which of course meant that Sirius slept better as well.
Despite the pleasant weather and the freedom to do exactly as they pleased, when the big brown barn owl fluttered down onto Sirius' shoulder and dropped a letter on top of the book he was reading, one day early in August, Harry felt as though someone had thrown them a lifeline back to wizarding civilisation.
"School letter!" Sirius said cheerfully, sailing it across the expanse of grass to where Harry was holding a solemn conference with several snakes who lived at the bottom of the garden. His habit of talking to snakes had unnerved Sirius, years ago, but since the snakes kept the garden free of rodents and Snake kept the house bug-less, he tolerated them. Today, Harry had translated, the subject concerned a shrub which had grown over the best basking rock, and whether Harry would consent to trim it back.
Harry picked up the letter and, with a hiss that sent the other snakes wandering off, opened it. Snake, in his place of honour on Harry's collar, slithered over his ear.
"Go on then," Sirius said to the barn owl which was still perched placidly on his shoulder. The owl shook itself and hooted at Harry.
"Letter for you, too," Harry said. He tossed a thick envelope to Sirius, and a smaller, slightly crumpled one on Remus' chest, where the other man lay sleeping. "Probably waiting for a return letter."
"All right then, but he doesn't need to use me as a perch," Sirius said. Just then another owl appeared and landed on his other shoulder. "You bloody nuisances!"
"Look, it's Hedwig!" Harry cried, as the snowy owl ruffled her feathers cheerfully. The barn owl hooted at her and flew off, as if that was all he'd been waiting for in the first place.
"You're looking fine, Beautiful," Sirius said, lifting her onto his arm and stroking her head with a fingertip. "Did Andromeda take good care of you?"
Hedwig deposited yet another letter and flapped to the ground, landing on the stone back-porch where Sirius had been lounging. She pecked at the door, and Sirius opened it enough for her to slip inside.
"Come on, we'd better feed her. Wake the lazybones, Harry, would you?" Sirius asked, tucking the letters into his pocket and following the owl down the hallway into the kitchen at the front of the house. Harry nudged Remus, who trailed inside sleepily.
Sirius set out a bowl of water and another with some cold leftover mutton in it, which Hedwig ate daintily while they sat at the table.
"Let's see what the news is," Sirius said, peering over Harry's shoulder. "Letter, booklist, ticket -- looks in order, eh?"
Harry glanced up at him and grinned as he nodded his agreement. "What'd you get?"
"Letter from Dumbledore -- looks like some press clippings, probably about our disappearance -- and..." Sirius' brow furrowed. "Something from some art studio, forwarded on by Andromeda."
"Probably wrongly addressed," Remus said. "What's Andromeda say?"
"She doesn't, other than to write her," Sirius said, setting aside the letter from the studio. "Dumbledore says...well, he says we're all right to return to London and get some of Harry's school things -- and we can move out of Betwys Beddau for the school year at least. Apparently there's been no sign of Pettigrew since the end of June."
"That doesn't seem right," Remus said. "If I were Peter I'd want all the publicity I could get. You know how he was."
"Mmh...could be a trap, but Dumbledore says he thinks he's being distracted by other things. Says to write back and let him know when we're arriving and the Tonkses will meet us in London."
"Distracted?" Remus rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "That's a rather big risk."
"Well, it's not my words," Sirius answered. "What's your letter?"
Remus turned the envelope over in his hands, studying it. "It's from St. Mungo's..." he slit the wax open and unfolded the parchment. "Hmm. Nothing important," he said, folding it and giving Sirius a significant look. "Due for a checkup, that's all."
Sirius nodded, and Harry looked confused for a moment before being distracted by the press clippings. "Look, Sirius, here's one about you."
Sirius accepted the article from Harry. "Wanted, Dead Or Alive," he read. "How utterly tasteless. Look, Moony, it's a wanted poster for me."
"Well, you did go missing and you neglected to notify the press," Remus chuckled. "It's a flattering photograph. There'll be a feeding frenzy among the society columnists when we go back to London. I'm starving," he added. "Who wants waffles?"
Harry grinned and ran into the kitchen, where they heard him clanging about as he unearthed several metal bowls in his quest for the waffle iron.
"I'm due for my five-year test," Remus said to Sirius, over the racket. "I'll schedule it for after Harry leaves."
"I'll come with you," Sirius answered. "Maybe you ought to take Harry school shopping -- you draw less of a crowd," he said apologetically.
"It's a good idea -- well, we could always disguise you," Remus grinned, just as there was a splashing noise from the kitchen.
"Sounds like the milk spilled," Sirius said. "I'll go help -- sit, man, you're two days from the full moon."
"I'm not an invalid," Remus grumbled, but he did look grateful as he sank into the dining-room chair.
His movement stirred the press clippings that had spread themselves across the table, and he sorted them slowly into order, studying each one. Most of them were frivolous enough -- this person or that speculating about where Sirius Black had absconded to with his young godson. A few concerned Tonks&Tonks, the clothes shop that Andromeda and Ted ran out of the old Black house on Grimmauld Place, and one of them was a mention of Nymphadora receiving some kind of merit award. Most of the ones with photos attached featured Harry's face, or the classic Black profile that Sirius and Andromeda both shared; he paused when he came across one that had his own face, cropped from a photo someone had snapped of him and Sirius having dinner with Harry last Christmas holiday. After a moment he separated that one out, held it flat on the palm of his hand, and gave it an intense, concentrated stare.
"What's burning in here?" Sirius asked, carrying in the first plate of waffles hot from the iron. Harry followed behind, precariously carrying a pot of honey, a jar of pumpkin preserve, and a butter dish.
"Nothing," Remus replied with a real smile. He dusted some fluffy white ash off his hands quickly, plucking the butter dish out of the air and allowing Sirius to present him with the best waffle of the batch.
***
Daily Prophet........28 July 1992
SIRIUS BLACK'S MYSTERIOUS MANSERVANT: WHO IS LUPIN?
Rita Skeeter, Feature Columnist
Much has been written about handsome young playboy Sirius Black, heir to the Black fortunes and guardian of the Boy Who Lived. Black, who divides his time between an undisclosed summer chateau and a luxurious flat above the Tonks&Tonks department store (owned by his cousin Andromeda Tonks) is considered an extremely private man. He has always declined interviews with various news sources and is demonstrably protective of his young charge, who will be entering his second year at the prestigious Hogwarts School in the autumn.
There is, however, a shadow hanging over -- or rather, following behind -- Sirius Black. His mysterious manservant, Remus Lupin, can often be seen in the background -- of photographs taken of Mr Black, of articles written about him and his godson. Hovering always in the shadows, the silent Mr Lupin appears as a sort of butler-bodyguard; he rarely speaks, never smiles for the photographs, and is almost never acknowledged openly by either Black or Potter.
Who is Remus Lupin?
Your devoted columnist has been hard at work uncovering information about Mr. Lupin, which it must be said is carefully guarded; his medical file at St Mungo's is under lock and key, his employment history outside of Black's payroll is sketchy and vague, and his educational records are confidential. A fellow student of Black's at Hogwarts, Lupin is remembered by most as a "plain, quiet sort of fellow" and a "decent prefect", faint praise indeed for a Gryffindor whose friends included archvillain Peter Pettigrew and martyred hero James Potter.
Could it be that Remus Lupin has some sort of hold over an old school chum? Can it be blackmail, dear readers?
What dark secret does Remus John Lupin hide underneath his quiet exterior, and why does Black keep him so close? Is he merely a highly-paid confidential employee, or is he benefiting from knowing where a rich man's skeletons are buried?
***
"Did you ever open the letter Andromeda sent on?" Remus asked as he undressed for bed that evening. Sirius took a moment to appreciate the line of his spine as he bent to shed his trousers, then answered.
"Not yet -- put it around here somewhere..." he reached for the nightstand, where the letter was already doing bookmark service in his latest reading. "Probably some kind of junk mail."
"You'd think she'd know what to forward, though," Remus answered. He slipped the pyjama bottoms up over his hips and sat on the bed, falling back to rest his head on Sirius' stomach comfortably. "I'm curious."
"Well, we can fix that," Sirius replied, deftly tearing off the end and shaking out a thin but expensive-looking sheet of paper. "They probably just want to sell me a portrait of myself. Dear Mr. Black, Heir of the Most Noble and et cetera et cetera, patronage of your excellent mother and father -- that's sucking up, that is, nobody who ever met my mother would say that -- understand that your thirty-third birthday is approaching and..." Sirius stared at the letter.
"And?" Remus prompted. "Bit nervous about thirty-three, are we?"
"It has come to our attention," Sirius read, "That you have not yet made an appointment with our studio, and we would like to inquire if you plan on doing so in the near future. Our patented Dorian Gray portraiture process, as we are sure you are aware, preserves the youthfulness of the Wizard painted well into his tenth or eleventh decade if handled with proper care, but requires two to three weeks to complete. Due to your family's long history with the Broosh&Chakle portrait studio, and your approach to the age when portraits are generally taken, we are pleased to offer you the same service -- oh bloody hell, I remember this now..."
"Who're Broosh&Chakle?" Remus inquired, studying the dismay in Sirius' face.
"Dead," Sirius replied. "It's just the studio name now. They do portraits like my mum's -- d'you remember?"
"Vaguely. Didn't it shout nasty things at you?"
"More than nasty," Sirius said grimly. "I had some specialists in to remove it. There's a charm done so that the portrait does most of the aging, and the subject stays more or less the way they are until the portraits begins to disintegrate or they die. It's not perfect, but it's popular with the noble families. My father had his done at thirty because he thought he looked respectable enough to get good tables at the best restaurants and young enough to get the waitresses on the side," Sirius sighed. "It's a petty vanity."
Remus sat up and smiled at him. "Going to do it?"
Sirius looked shocked. "Of course not, why would I? I'm not a lecher or a bigot, and I don't need to hide those things like they did."
"Yes, but..." Remus shrugged. "I mean...you shouldn't not do it just because your family did it."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Remus took his hand, weaving their fingers together. "I don't care if you look thirty-three the rest of your life or ninety-three. But you are extremely handsome, Sirius -- "
" -- Moony -- "
" -- and if you throw away that letter, I want it to be because you don't want it, and not because of anything your family did or didn't do," Remus continued. "Your family shouldn't haunt you the rest of your life."
"They don't," Sirius said sullenly. He sat up too, resting his forehead against Remus', one hand reaching up to stroke through his hair. "And I like grey hair," he added teasingly, separating out the silvery strands that were beginning to thread more and more through the pale brown. "Do you want me to have one done?"
"Merlin, I told you. I don't care," Remus answered. "But I'm sure you can afford it, and it's a family tradition that does you no harm, and I think it would be sweet, in a rather vain fashion, which is really the phrase that best describes you at any rate."
Sirius gave him a light tap on the cheek for that, and Remus laughed.
"Sleep on it," he advised. "See what you think tomorrow."
Sirius sighed and laid back again, and Remus curled around him, drawing the light summer blankets up over their bodies.
"I was thinking of charming it brown," Remus said after a while.
"Charming what brown?" Sirius asked sleepily.
"My hair. It doesn't mean anything, it's just the lycanthropy. I could charm it out pretty easily."
"I like it."
"Liar."
"I told you I did," Sirius said. Remus snorted. "I do. Makes you easy to pick out in a crowd."
Remus laughed and said something about something Sirius didn't quite catch, because he was slipping down into sleep.
***
When Draco Malfoy arrived at the train platform, Andromeda Tonks had taken one look at him and silently cursed her sister. He looked healthy enough, but he was pale and more gaunt than any twelve-year-old ought to be; clearly Narcissa wasn't feeding the boy properly, and the first thing Andromeda did once they were home was sit him down and bring him and Neville tea while Ted made some rather enormous sandwiches.
"Doesn't she feed you?" Andromeda asked, as Draco eagerly tackled his second sandwich. "I know you have house-elves who cook."
"Yeah," Draco said, after swallowing and setting his sandwich down. Never let it be said she hadn't taught the boy manners, at any rate. "She's been remodeling. The kitchen was the last to go."
"Remodeling? Why?" Andromeda asked, faintly amused. "It's not as though she does a lot of entertaining, Draco."
He shrugged. "Why's she do anything? I don't know. Anyway, it means she spent the summer shouting at the workmen who were doing the redecoration charms and not me. Then she decided to do the kitchen, so Mendy hasn't had anywhere to cook. So we've been mostly eating cold leftover soup and porridge -- we had bread for a while, but we ran out...anyway, Mum told her not to make sandwiches."
"Your mum's nuts," Neville said. Andromeda gave him a sharp look. "Well, she is. Go on, tell her why you couldn't have sandwiches."
"Because they're barbaric," Draco recited, then took another enormous bite out of the one in front of him. "And they're a Muggle invention."
"So is underwear," Ted said, winking at Draco, and the boys laughed. "I'd like to see her face if she found that out."
"Well, you're here now," Andromeda said, daintily eating a crisp. "And as you know I'm a terrible influence on the family, so you say what you'd like to eat and we'll fix it. You are, however, required to wear underwear in the house."
This brought on another wave of laughter from the boys, and after Draco had finished his sandwich she sent them off to Neville's room to play. Once they were gone, their voices (and occasional faint thumps and explosions) muffled by the door, she looked at Ted, who looked back seriously.
"I think perhaps we should talk to Dora about this," she said. "Clearly he's being maltreated, Ted. Aurors have the right to do inspections and take custody of children who're being abused."
"This isn't like Neville, love," Ted answered, sipping his now-cold tea thoughtfully. "Narcissa has a lot of power, whether or not she's gone absolutely round the twist, and she could probably get Dora out of a job if she really tried. Besides, Dora's not -- "
"I have power and influence too. The boy was starving!"
"It'd be hard to prove that. She was feeding him, and she had an excuse. Besides, who's to say taking him away might not be worse? You've seen what they do to children, Andromeda -- look what they did to poor Harry when his parents died, shipped him off to live with Muggles."
"I'm his closest relation -- "
"But you're also a disowned Black."
Andromeda looked at him, shocked.
"Sirius hasn't adopted Harry. If he dies, Draco gets everything that's entailed, as the next male in the line. If you were to try to get custody of him, a lot of people might think it was suspicious. This isn't just child-care, Andromeda, it's politics."
"To hell with politics!"
"You say that now, but I don't want to see Draco put in some Muggle orphanage somewhere. We've got him now," Ted continued, soothingly. "We'll feed him up before school starts and he'll stay here or at school for the winter holidays. Narcissa won't even see him until next June, and by that time I'm sure the remodeling will be over."
Andromeda rested her chin on one hand. "I don't like it, Ted."
"I know, but you can't go around taking in stray puppies when they already have owners," he said, and rose to kiss her forehead. "I'm going to go down to the market and buy some supplies for dinner. Lamb and new potatoes sound good?"
"And get some eggs, he likes omelettes."
Ted gave her a grin and a salute, and vanished down the stairs. From Neville's room came another explosion and a shriek of laughter; starving or not, he was in good spirits now.
***
"Harry!"
The shout was the first sign they had that they'd been sighted; Remus, who was a good deal taller than Harry and a bit taller than Sirius, shaded his eyes and then pointed in the direction most of the passengers leaving the train were headed.
"There they are," he said. "Neville's spotted you -- no you don't," he added, catching Harry by the shoulder as the boy began to run in the direction he'd pointed. "Not going to lose you in this crowd, Harry."
Neville broke through the sea of people then, followed closely by Draco and Ted; there were a few minutes of confused greetings before Ted pulled them out of the way of other people disembarking, over to where Andromeda and Dora were standing near a newspaper stand.
"Hello Sirius," Andromeda said, giving him a hug, and Remus a kiss on the cheek. "Welcome back. Hi Harry!"
"Hi Aunt Andromeda!" Harry said, looking up from his huddle with his friends. "Hi Dora!"
"Hi Harry," Nymphadora said, with a grin. "Wotcha, Sirius, Remus."
"How's the invalid?" Sirius asked.
"If I wasn't leaning on it, I'd shake my cane at you," she said.
"We told her she could wait at home, but she refused," Ted put in. "Course it means I'll have to carry her back -- " He ducked Dora's well-aimed swat.
"I can walk just fine, thank you," she said. "It's good for me."
"Have you got bags we should be collecting?" Andromeda asked, gently steering the boys towards the exit.
"Moody's sending up our boxes in a few days, so we just brought the essentials," Sirius answered. "We're leaving the furnishings there this time -- going to have to buy some new things for the flat."
"How was your summer?" Ted asked.
"Provincial," Remus murmured wryly.
"Pleasant," Sirius corrected. "Harry got a lot of reading done for school, and Remus paid service to his work ethic by being gainfully employed, and I slept a lot."
"How do you manage such a stressful life," Andromeda asked with a laugh. "I suppose your plans for the year include sleeping a lot, as well?"
"I thought it might be a part of the schedule," Sirius replied.
They ambled towards Diagon Alley, their pace set by Dora, who was as she'd promised walking fine, albeit slowly. While Neville and Harry compared notes on their respective pets, with Snake curled around Harry's ear and Trevor placidly croaking in Neville's pocket, Draco hung back a little until he was walking just ahead of Sirius.
"Wotcha, Draco," Sirius said, ruffling his white-blond hair. "Keeping out of trouble?"
"Yes," Draco answered. "Mostly."
"Only mostly?"
"The boys think it's fun to try and sneak into Knockturn Alley," Ted said, only mildly disapprovingly.
"Well, it is," Sirius agreed. "Trying, anyhow."
"Don't encourage them." Ted rolled his eyes. "Still, I suppose it keeps them occupied. And now they've got Harry to distract them, don't they, Harry?" he called. Harry, who was showing Neville some trick Snake had learned, shot him a grin before returning to the conversation.
"Harry nearly got us in a world of trouble a few weeks ago," Sirius said, gallantly offering Dora his arm when she stumbled a bit. She glared at him and looked disdainful of it, and he shrugged. "We were at a dinner with some of his football friends -- their parents are always throwing dinners -- "
" -- trying to set him up with an appropriate mother for Harry," Remus added, smiling.
" -- thank you, I'll tell the story," Sirius replied. "We were at this dinner and the boys were talking about school -- they all go to the local comprehensive, except one or two -- and one of the boys turned to Harry and asked what was so special about Hogwarts, what they teach there."
"Oh, dear..." Andromeda said, stifling a grin.
"Harry, cool as you like, turned to the boy and said he was learning how to be a wizard. I thought the Ministry was going to swoop down on us then and there," Sirius recounted, shaking his head. "I couldn't believe he just out and said it, he's always so good about being discreet. And of course the parents are laughing, but the boys all seemed to believe him. So another boy piped up and said there wasn't any such thing, and Harry said there was, and the first boy said he ought to prove it."
"He didn't."
"Well, he didn't have his wand, not that it would have worked anyway, and he knows the rules about underaged wizardry, so I wasn't too worried, but he got that look in his eye like he's about to pull a fast one -- "
" -- not at all like the look you get when you're about to do that, I'm sure -- "
"And he pointed at the boy in question and said Jiggery pokery mumbletypeg!"
Andromeda and Ted burst out laughing.
"And would you believe it, he was so intent and serious about it that the other boy nearly wet his pants in fright and spent the rest of the evening worrying he was going to be turned into a frog."
"When everyone knows that Jiggery pokery mumbletypeg is the incantation to turn someone into a cat," Remus added, grinning. "Fake or not, it almost gave Sirius and me heart attacks."
"Speaking of which," Sirius said, "We haven't had any details on Dora's accident -- Dumbledore sent us some clippings, but nothing about the injury. What happened?"
"Oh, it's so stupid," Dora sighed.
"Heroic, sweetheart, the word is 'heroic'," Ted said.
"Stupid," Dora replied. "We had a call that someone had got into one of the animal pens at the London Magical Zoo, and so Kingsley and Medder and Callie and I all went down to see what had happened. As it turns out, Dung Fletcher had tried to sneak into the Ashwinder pen and fell into the Grindylow pond instead. Well, you know how those little buggers are -- "
"Language around the children," Ted said quietly.
"Sorry dad -- you know how they are, they get hold of you and won't let go, so Kingsley sent me in because I can change my shape a bit if I get grabbed. We didn't know," she said, aggrieved, "that I'm one of the one-in-twelve who are allergic to Grindylow bites. In I went, and while I was trying to get Dung free, one of them latched onto my leg and wouldn't let go. I kicked it a bit and broke its fingers -- all the zoo people are very upset, seems they think their precious Grindylow is more important than my leg -- and it let go and they all started biting me..."
"The end result of which," Ted supplied, as Dora sighed in frustration, "was that Kingsley had to go in and fetch both of them out since Dung still had a Grindylow hanging tight to his -- er -- "
"His danglers," Dora said, sounding satisfied. "He'd cast an invisibility charm, so he was naked -- "
Remus and Sirius winced in sympathy.
"Anyway," Ted said hastily, "Kingsley and Dora between the two of them managed to get Dung out all right, and then Dora went and passed out from anaphylactic shock. The Healers only just got to her in time."
"It was touch and go for a few days," Andromeda said softly.
"I'm fine," Dora announced to no-one in particular. "It's just taking a while to get back on my feet, that's all. And the Aurors say I ought to take it easy for a few months, so I'm on medical pension and they helped me find something to keep me sharp while I do all the recovery stuff."
"Andromeda mentioned that in her letter, what are you up to?" Remus inquired.
"I'm going to be teaching," she replied. "I'm the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts. I'm really only down for the day, then I've got to get back -- thought I'd see you lot, and pick up my professors' robes."
"You're the new Defence teacher?" Sirius asked.
"Congratulations!" Remus said. "Good, you can keep an eye on Harry, make sure he's not getting into too much trouble."
"I bet Snape about bit his tongue off when he heard," Sirius mused.
"He wasn't too happy," Andromeda admitted. "Of course he's happy for Dora, but -- "
"He'd like to see her dead in a ditch so he can have the post?" Remus asked, with a mischievous grin.
"Something like that," Dora answered, equally mischievous. "I'm sorry if he thinks I took his job, but he wasn't even the one I beat out for the post -- you know Gilderoy Lockhart?"
"The one who writes all the adventure and how-to books?" Sirius asked. "Don't tell me Dumbledore was considering him."
"Sirius is just bitter because Lockhart beat him out for Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile award," Remus grinned.
"Well, there aren't a lot of people who'd take the job," Andromeda said. "I don't know why they keep turning down Severus, he's more than qualified, but apart from him, only Lockhart applied, and then they switched him out for our Dora at the last minute. Apparently Dumbledore would rather have her. Can't say I blame him," she added proudly.
"It's not that big a deal," Dora said, but she flushed happily. "It's just for a year, anyhow. I'll take my requalification exams right after the school year ends."
"I'm glad she's taking some time off," Ted said quietly to Sirius, as Harry turned around to demand if it was true that Dora was going to be a teacher. "It was quite a shock to Andromeda and me. I don't think Dora herself knows quite how close we came to losing her."
"I wish we could have been here," Sirius answered. "She's all right now, though, isn't she?"
"She's getting there. Been a dangerous summer, really. First Severus' heart nearly gave out -- did you hear about that?"
"We knew he was ill," Sirius said noncommittally.
"Well, that was a worry, though apparently he's recovered. And then Dora was attacked, and Neville caught the Kneazlepox...I'll be a bit glad when school starts and Andromeda can let Madam Pomfrey fret about everyone for a while."
"As if Andromeda would trust anyone else with her children," Sirius said with a grin. "Let me know when she's planning on sending a care package, and I'll chip in a few Galleons."
"Here we are then," Andromeda said, as they arrived at the front door of the Leaky Cauldron. "Ted, you take everyone through and down to the shop, I'm just going to have a word with Tom about buying some wine for dinner."
"Right, everyone, this way," Ted said, leading the little band towards the back and out through the receding brick wall, into Diagon Alley. "There's a roast in the oven and Neville and Draco made a giant pudding -- sugared violets and all -- "
"Home!" Harry cried happily, and Sirius caught Remus grinning even wider than he was as they emerged back into the wizarding world.
***
"I am not fond of moving. In fact, you know what? I hate moving."
Sirius grinned and charmed another box into the air, landing it on the kitchen counter so that he wouldn't have to bend over to open it. "Dishes or books?" he asked, pointing at the box.
"Two Sickles says crockery," Remus answered, maneuvering the new bookshelves into place along the wall opposite. The delivery wizards had left them in the middle of the living room, and Remus was grumbling about having to rearrange them.
"Ah! You owe me two Sickles, it's toys," Sirius replied.
"That wasn't part of the bet, and what toys? I thought we left most of Harry's in Betwys Beddau."
Sirius grinned and held up a smaller box he'd taken from inside the larger, which read Madam Schaeffer's Architectural Building Blocks. "These're your toys."
"Oh, grand! I was hoping those wouldn't get left behind," Remus said, abandoning the bookshelves for the much more entertaining box of blocks. He opened it at once and began removing little wooden buttresses, columns with changeable capitals, and thin arrow-slit windowframes.
"Going to build a cathedral?" Sirius asked as he unpacked the rest of the box -- a few tea towels wrapped around some blue-glass ornaments that always sat on their windowsill in Betwys Beddau, and some puzzles from Madam Schaeffer's.
"Just part of one," Remus replied. "Where's the -- there we are," he said, taking out a thin wooden circle with an inset rose-window design. Sirius watched in amusement as the front facade of a church was assembled, Remus' nimble fingers joining the blocks deftly. Finally, he pressed the rose-window into the middle, and set it up on the counter against the wall, murmuring a charm to make the window glow.
"And you accuse me of being nine years old," Sirius said with a grin. Remus matched it, but didn't reply; after a moment he felt Sirius' arm snake around his waist, and the press of his chin on his shoulder.
"I know you missed it. This, the magical world," he continued quietly. "Merlin knows why, since it hasn't been kind to -- "
"It's our home," Remus said swiftly, cutting him off, but he didn't pull away. "Home isn't always easy, but it's always home."
"Mmh. That's true." Sirius nuzzled his neck, and Remus leaned back into the embrace a little, his hands covering Sirius'. "You know, we've been working hard all morning..."
"You just want an excuse not to finish unpacking."
"Well, that doesn't hurt," Sirius agreed. His hands slipped a little lower, and Remus let out a soft breath that wasn't quite a moan. "But I was thinking it's a very old and honourable tradition to christen new furniture -- "
Remus laughed. "I hope you're not meaning the shelves."
"I was thinking of the sofa," Sirius said, pulling him slow backwards towards the living room. It was an awfully nice new sofa; soft upholstery, wide cushions, deep and comfortable. Remus smiled and let himself be moved, turning to face Sirius when their legs bumped against it.
"The boys," he said around a warm, affectionate kiss, the sort Sirius had a naughty habit of turning passionate.
"Gone with Ted," Sirius answered. "Won't be back for hours."
Remus was going to reply, something about locking the door, but Sirius put a hand on his chest and pushed gently, angling him down onto the sofa with his back against the armrest. They were good at this, good at moving together and finding the ways the other fit; good at dancing around and with each other.
It was an informal arrangement, unspoken mostly, but it worked. It had been, once, Remus following Sirius because that was what he'd always done, following Harry because he loved the boy as if he were his own blood. Now it was them, a family -- Remus and Sirius, and their boy Harry, theirs, and it didn't matter for the moment if nobody else knew that.
Sirius had straddled his hips and was kissing his jaw, hands unbuttoning his shirt, pulling it haphazardly out of his trousers; he managed to push Sirius away for long enough to pull off the old t-shirt Sirius wore, fingers working at his belt buckle as Sirius slid warm hands inside Remus' shirt. He had followed Sirius for years, wanting this -- wanting the skate of Sirius' fingers over his ribcage, the spread of his hands over his skin. Sirius loved to touch, and Remus had been starved for it.
He managed to get Sirius' belt undone and shove his trousers down far enough that Sirius hissed with pleasure and fumbled with the zip of Remus' flies, the belt sliding easily over his hips if he sucked in a breath for a minute. He often wondered privately what Sirius thought of him, skinny and scarred and ragtag, but when they were together like this, clothes still half-on, hips arching against each other, breath coming fast against slick skin, hands everywhere at once, stroking, encouraging, exploring --
"Sirius, mum says to -- MERLIN."
Remus gasped and opened his eyes, turning his head to see Dora standing in the doorway, one hand still on the doorknob. Sirius tensed and turned as well, his dark hair brushing Remus' chest tantalisingly even as the horror of the situation washed over them.
Dora was flushed bright red and staring at them; hopefully the fact that their clothing was mostly still on made the situation better, though Remus had a terrible suspicion it somehow made it much worse.
"Dora," Sirius said faintly. "Give us a minute?"
She was still staring. Remus very slowly lifted the corner of his unbuttoned shirt and pulled it across the bits of his chest that weren't covered by Sirius' head.
"Dora," Sirius said.
"Yes?" she asked faintly.
"You've come down from Hogwarts for lunch?"
"Yes..."
"Good to see you. Close the door and tell your mum we'll be down in a few minutes."
She nodded, mutely, and closed the door.
"Dora."
"Yes?"
"Go through the door and then close it, okay?"
When she was gone, Remus leaned his head back against the armrest and laughed. Sirius kissed his collarbone and pushed himself up slightly.
"We should dress," he said regretfully. "They'll be waiting."
Remus could feel heat still against his thigh. "Your cousin doesn't seem to have dampened your enthusiasm much."
"Maybe I'm secretly an exhibitionist," Sirius said with a grin. Remus shifted his weight a little, and Sirius moaned.
"Lunch can wait five minutes," he said, pulling Sirius' head up to kiss him on the mouth. His other hand drifted back down to stroke them both, tantalisingly, and he was pleased to hear Sirius' breath hitch. "Poor Dora..."
"Poor Dora?" Sirius growled, falling into a quick, even rhythm, and Remus shivered happily. "Just think of the show we gave her -- oh -- "
He gasped and came, and Remus nuzzled against his cheek, bucking his hips as he followed. They lay for a minute or two, catching their breath; eventually Remus stretched and murmured a cleaning spell.
"Well," Sirius said, as he pushed himself up and reached for his t-shirt, pulling it on before tugging his pants and trousers up, "I'm starving. You?"
Remus laughed and let Sirius button his shirt for him. "Ravenous."
***
The house was empty and quiet with the workmen gone; Narcissa moved through it like a ghost among ghosts. The sheeted furniture lending an eerie surreality to the rooms, as though it was not a place to live so much as a peculiar indoor graveyard.
Her bedroom was untouched, of course; the bedroom she and Lucius had shared once, the bedroom that didn't change because as much as she hated her husband sometimes, she couldn't bear to part with the shreds of their marriage. For the same reason, as much as she might scream and rave at Draco, she would not send him away without at least a token battle.
Draco was half of her, after all, and she was proud of that, just as she was proud, in a twisted sort of way, that her husband rotted in prison on the Dark Lord's behalf. She had given a husband up to him and did not expect reward for that; she would do better with her son.
She had dreamed of being at the right hand of Lord Voldemort, and if Lucius had abandoned her, Draco would serve just as well.
She stepped into the library -- Lucius' library; like a good Black woman, when she had married she had gone to her husband's house, and nearly everything in it was a Malfoy possession. These were Lucius' books, would one day be Draco's. Some of them sooner than others.
She took a key from around her neck, the key that opened every door in the house, and used it to unlock the little glass cabinet at the back of the library, next to the cold, empty fireplace. These...these were her things. Her little collection of Dark artefacts, carefully arranged and preserved.
Reaching inside, past chalices made of black stone and stands of velvet with ropes of silver chain on them, she found what she was looking for -- a nondescript black diary, a Muggle thing bought in Vauxhall Road decades ago to judge from the year stamped on it.
"Narcissa," said a voice behind her, and she pointedly did not start.
"Walden," she replied, removing the book and locking the cupboard again. "So good of you to come."
"For you, always," he answered. "Your elf let me in."
She turned around and clutched the diary tightly, fingers tapping on the cheap cover.
"Is this it?" he asked, eyeing the plain little book carefully.
"Yes," she answered. He stepped closer. Walden Macnair was like the animals he dealt with, dangerous and unpredictable, and while she loved that, she never knew what to expect....
He lifted the book out of her fingers and placed it carefully in an inner pocket of his leather duster, before shedding the long coat and draping it over a nearby chair. She backed into the cabinet as he came forward, his arms on either side of her shoulders, palms flat against the glass.
"Will it work?" he asked, lips close to hers. He smelled like leather oil and the acrid tang of ground metal; not unpleasant, but always surprising to her.
Macnair was a rangy, weatherbeaten man, with ropy muscles from years of handling and putting-down dangerous animals; surprising too was how firm, how immovable he could be when he pressed against her, how frail she felt in comparison. Everything that Lucius had been -- pale, controlled, calm, vicious -- Walden contrasted. Even his own particular brand of cruelty was animal, predatory but not sadistic.
One of his hands lifted away from the glass -- she'd have to clean it later, she reminded herself -- and gently cupped her breast through the thin straw-coloured robe she wore. She gasped and some of her tension faded away; clearly he was in a good mood tonight.
"I'm not in the habit of failure," she whispered back, as he began to kiss her neck.
***
"Prognosis?"
Madam Pomfrey folded up the small brass device she had, until a few moments before, been holding over Severus Snape's heart, and crossed her arms.
"You're not to exert yourself," she said.
"Do I ever?" he asked, reaching for his shirt. She slapped his hand away, and he gave her a glare of injured dignity.
"I'm not done with you, and I'd like to remind you that if you hadn't exerted yourself last June, you wouldn't be in this predicament now," she replied. "Whatever Pettigrew did to you, Severus, it's had lasting impact."
The worry in his eyes rose a notch, and she shook her head. "Don't fret too much. You're fine, but in order to ensure that you remain fine, I'd like you to take it easy for a few months still."
"Splendid," he growled. "May I put my shirt on now?"
"No. I want to have a look at your lungs."
"My lungs are perfectly functional," he answered, and reached for his shirt again.
"Oh, don't be a big baby, Severus," she replied, unfolding another device, this one silver. He rolled his eyes and held still while she pressed it to one side of his chest and then the other, carefully studying the dials that clicked and whirred as she did so. "You were out in the forest yesterday, and the late-summer damp -- "
"For an hour," he protested. "Two at most. That's hardly enough time to catch cold, let alone some kind of lung ailment."
"That's for me to determine. What were you doing out there?"
"I had business with the centaurs."
"Hmm, the mirrors?"
He gave her a sharp look. "What do you know about them?"
"Severus, it's a small school. I know the Mirror of Ynitsed was broken. The centaurs have been sending messages up to the castle all summer, asking after you. I assumed from the way Dumbledore spoke that they weren't particularly friendly notes."
He was silent as she adjusted a dial.
"Erised has become unstable," he said, after a while. "It no longer shows the heart's desire -- they allowed me to examine it."
She glanced up at his face, worried by his tone. "What does it show?"
"Base desire, as far as I can tell. Violent urges, animal impulses. The centaurs are...upset." He glanced out the nearby window, where one edge of the forest could just barely be seen. "The magic that forged the mirrors is lost, even to them -- they kept repeating 'destiny is shattered'. As though I could do anything about it."
"Have they asked you to do anything about it?" she inquired.
He looked taken aback, as if she had said something he hadn't considered before. "No...no, they didn't, precisely. Are you finished?" he asked abruptly.
"Yes; you may dress now," she said magnanimously. He pulled the white shirt over his head, lacing it in the front, and then followed it with his usual black, buttoning the line of small loops along the arms first, then up his chest. She smiled in amusement as he pulled his professors' robes over them, and wondered how he didn't overheat in all those layers.
"Pomfrey," he said, as he adjusted the robes on his shoulders, "I'd like to ask...."
"Yes?" she said, tidying away the instruments she'd been using.
"How close was it?"
She glanced at him. "How close was what?"
"The hurt I took from Pettigrew. You didn't tell me everything," he said. "You still haven't."
"Mindreading, are we, Severus?" she asked. "Well, I suppose you're entitled to know, now. I didn't want to worry you."
"Am I often in the habit of worrying?" he inquired. "How close was it? To fatal?"
"It was close," she said.
He nodded impassively and fixed the sleeves of the robes. "I'll see you again if I have any troubles. And of course at the welcoming feast."
She gave him a smile, which he returned less enthusiastically before vanishing into the corridor leading away from the hospital wing. As a person he was prickly and rude, as a patient incorrigibly disobedient, but he had a good heart. She had reason to know.
***
There were many nights, even now when he had the measure of Remus Lupin as he hadn't when they'd only been friends, that Sirius felt he was as much his protector as he was...well, whatever you wanted to call what they were. Lover -- or companion, perhaps. Sirius didn't really care to label it.
Ever since they were thirteen, Sirius had been there -- hundreds of dawns he'd kept vigil over a sleeping, pain-wracked body, too young to suffer the monstrous indignities of the lunar change. Since they were fifteen, there had been whole nights when he was one of Remus' packmates, the most peculiar pack a wolf ever kept. He had employed Remus when he was starving, and Sirius was proud that he had never once held that over his head -- had never even thought of it. For the past three years he'd been allowed to sleep beside him, to reach out in the night and touch him if he liked.
Or like tonight, to watch Remus as he dreamed, because returning to London meant returning to the odd, unsettling, prescient dreams that were one more disadvantage of lycanthropy. Whether it was a connection to whatever controlled the way events turned in the world, or a knack for Divination, or some peculiar link with another version of their existence (one in which horrors lay -- twelve years of Azkaban for Sirius, continual torment at the hands of the Dursleys for Harry, a decade and more of solitary poverty for Remus) Sirius didn't care. All he knew was that it had saved Harry's life once, and once had driven Remus on an obsessed search for Peter which had lasted years. Too many times to count, it had robbed him of a decent night's sleep.
Remus shifted a little, head turning on the pillow, eyes moving under his eyelids, and Sirius watched. His mouth was open and a soft cry escaped, but for all Sirius knew he could be dreaming about the afternoon's briefly-interrupted activities. He stretched out a hand and smoothed silver-brown hair back off his forehead, leaning close and whispering soothing nonsense reassurances. Skin cold, almost clammy; perhaps it was no more than a touch of the flu upsetting his sleep.
"Moony," he said softly, "What are you dreaming?"
Remus' eyes opened and it took them a minute to focus; Sirius realised it wasn't just his forehead that was cold -- his whole body was chilled as if he'd come in from a storm. His hands were freezing when Sirius pulled him close, and he tightened the blankets around their shoulders.
"Cold," Remus said.
"It's just a chill -- "
"No -- I was dreaming of cold..."
Sirius gathered as much of the lean, angular body as he could up against him, willing some of his heat into the chill skin.
"Just cold?" he asked, and Remus shook his head. "Just a dream?"
Another headshake. He stayed silent until Remus drew breath, his hands already warmer, his body no longer trembling.
"I was in a classroom," he said softly. "And there was a boy there...not Harry...I couldn't see his face. But I remember feeling so cold. As if just by looking at me, he could freeze me up. And anxious...because I knew who he was, but he didn't know that -- it was -- petrifying..."
"You knew who he was?"
"I knew what he represented," Remus said. "Something horrible -- something poisonous, blood-poison."
"Did he say anything?"
"No, that was a part of it. Fuck, I'm freezing."
Sirius threw his own blankets off and doubled them over the other man, not sure what else to do. He could get up and get heavier blankets, but that would mean leaving him alone in the bed. Instead he leaned back and grasped his wand, which lay haphazardly across the clock on his nightstand. The only warming charm he could remember was one they used to use after Quidditch at school to relax the muscles, but it seemed to work all right; before he could ask if that was better, Remus' body had gone slack against him, and his eyes were closed again.
"All right then, Moony?" he asked, and Remus nuzzled closer, muttering something half-coherently as he dropped off to sleep. After a while, though he had wanted to remain watchful, Sirius slept also.
When he asked, over breakfast the next morning, if Remus remembered waking up in the night, he got a puzzled smile for his pains.
"Why, did I say something stupid in my sleep?" Remus asked, pouring syrup onto his oatmeal.
"No -- just curious if you remembered it," Sirius answered.
"I don't remember, Pads. Maybe you dreamed it."
"Maybe I did."
Just then Harry emerged from his room, yawning and wild-haired, and Sirius was distracted by fixing him breakfast; not that they needed to speak more, he supposed. He was Padfoot, after all, and it was his job to guard Moony; it was what he had done for nearly twenty years. If that meant keeping secrets Moony didn't even know he had, he could live with that. The rewards for being a faithful guardian far outweighed the trouble.
To the Next Part
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wuffy!!
My sister caught a look at the browser window I'd left open when I went off to watch telly for a bit. She hasn't stopped pulling my leg for reading Pr0n.
*sigh*
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Off the top of my head (now I feel guilty for not writing a looong review...), I like that Narcissa been mentioned more (her own POV! Woot!), and we finally get her feelings on Lucius going to prison. She's evil! Mwahaha. Alright, I usually prefer Lucius-lovin-Cissy, but I find this version is just as credible in your 'verse, at least. :D And all the little pieces! Right now, I am appreciating more than anything how much effort this must have taken you. And I am probably nowhere near the truth. :P Like, Sirius's portrait (I'm not sure I understood that... will re-read) and Andromeda taking in Draco that might have been politically suspicious... how clever! :) The thing that really makes your fics for me is the excellent attention to detail.
Last thing! After jumping to your Schnoogle profile, I had wondered what 'Laocoon' was. It was obviously myth-related, but I googled it anyway... very interesting! If I took Laocoon's children to be those sons who got eaten by the waves with him to be the equivalent of the Four (PP, HP, NL, DM... you know what I mean), well... that's negative. And highly intriguing! *_*
Promise this really IS the last thing! The old mirror, from the previous fic? Destiny? (YNITSED) To me, it JUST skirts the border of annoying author-created unbelievable thingie. I really hope you know what I'm talking about when I say that. :D And yes, I realise the comment is riddled with typos!
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*giggle*
I feel funny to not have left a single comment since I started reading, so here: Brilliant!
wonderful, as expected
I can't wait to read the "return" of "Tom Riddle" in the end of this storyline!
I love your AU.
Bravo.
PS.
"Dreamed" as you used it would be "dreamt" in american-english. So, after researching (because I knew you couldn't be wrong -- you've been spot-on for quite awhile), I found the subtle differences between Brit-english and US-english. Very interesting read. Ever since I found out Brits spelled "color" as "colour" I had chosen to do that because I thought it was "cool". :)
Maybe I'll piss off my English teachers at Uni and write all my stories and essays using Brit-spelling.... hrmmmmmm.... I wonder if i'd get docked for it?
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(Anonymous) 2006-01-25 06:34 am (UTC)(link)no subject
She nodded, mutely, and closed the door.
"Dora."
"Yes?"
"Go through the door and then close it, okay?"
*SNORT*
Wonderful, as always; are you going to do the other years?
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I read part of this fic awhile ago, before you finished it, I think, and now I'm going back and reading it again and loving it so far. Thanks for giving us such a wonderful fic to read. ^_^
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Remus gasped and opened his eyes, turning his head to see Dora standing in the doorway, one hand still on the doorknob.
I've been slowly rereading SH and LC... it was bugging the hell out of me. I knew I'd read somewhere, in one of fics, of Tonks walking in on Sirius and Remus. But damned if I didn't start reading this one thinking, "I couldn't have imagined it, surely. So how the hell have I missed it?!" I didn't realise it happened so late in the series.
But then, it's been ages since I'd read them all and only the most recent facts were in order. It's been really cool, though, rereading everything. It's like when I reread Discworld novels, years after first reading them: I catch new references and jokes that, for whatever reason before, I didn't know or understand. And with SH and LC, it's just little things like Mr. Fell and Anthony Crowley, or Rupert the Vampire Slayer and William the Bloody...
Needless to say, I'm having a great time rereading all this.
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This lacks a complete verb, and is therefore a fragment. You should replace "lending" with "leant" or "loaned" (active voice) or "was lending" (passive voice).
She had dreamed of being at the right hand of Lord Voldemort, and if Lucius had abandoned her, Draco would serve here just as well.
Did you mean "serve her"?
I love how you seem to be moving Narcissa into Lucius's place in your AU.
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Combined with the Wanderings with Werewolfs (for hilarity value) in the past chapter, this has made you my favorite Harry Potter author ever.
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(I was about to link to it for you, but I see you've already commented there.)
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Laocoon's Children, Year Two, 1 - 3
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Years afterward, Harry Potter would describe his first school summer holiday in Betwys Beddau as idyllic. When Neville asked him what he meant, he was hard-pressed to say, but he finally settled for the explanation that it was the last summer when they were all children.
Now why is it Neville he's talking to and not any of the other four? Sam, are you giving HINTS?!! :-)
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violets!
among many many other things, it is your attention to detail that makes you great.
thank you for writing.
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(If that meant keeping secrets Moony didn't even know he had, he could live with that.)
and Tonks the DADA teacher.
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Anywho, love your attention to detail!!! I continue to find the stealing!verse characters infinitely more lovable.
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its kinda confusing
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http://sam-storyteller.livejournal.com/34308.html#cutid1
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She nodded, mutely, and closed the door.
"Dora."
"Yes?"
"Go through the door and then close it, okay?"
ahahahhahah best lines EVER!!
you are brilliant! :D
off to read more now! :)
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This is a great au universe. I think this is very original. If you ever turned to original writing. I'd read it.
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http://www.lulu.com/content/paperback-book/nameless/6798252
So glad you're enjoying the Stealing Harry series!
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(Anonymous) 2011-09-14 06:12 am (UTC)(link)Why does this remind me of Marquez? Beautiful writing.
@RucchiraM
http://magicnmiranda.blogspot.com