The Wolfsbane Potion

Standing in his bedroom window, Sirius stared down into the back garden of Lupin Lodge, turning a roll of parchment over and over, in his hands. Remus was in the garden, working steadily in the dirt, hunched over a patch of small, green shoots. The pale light of the overcast sun glinted on his greying hair, which fell in his eyes as he pulled up weeds and smoothed down soil. He settled back on his knees eventually, and surveyed his work with a peaceful smile, as if nothing was awry in the world. He looked perfectly content and free from fear.

It made Sirius sick.

Tonight, a full moon would rise, and Remus would be subject to it, as he always was – only this time it would be worse. Sirius couldn’t even begin to calculate how much worse. Remus might transform fully, in that tiny little shed, and if he did, there was no telling what he’d do to himself. At least when he’d been a child in the Shrieking Shack, there had been rooms to tear up and furniture to smash. Sirius looked from Remus’s bowed head to the slanted metal structure in the corner of the garden, studying its locks and bolts. Remus hadn’t been forced to transform there since his schooldays. He was a grown man now. He’d tear himself apart.

But he was really going to do this. Sirius clenched his teeth in anger. Remus was supposed to be the thoughtful one. Studious and quiet. Precautionary. Or so everyone at Hogwarts had assumed, anyway – it had been impossible not to trust his soft, flecked eyes, and thin, professorial stature. He had the sort of face that made people want to listen and reflect, and his unassuming self-possession had been an essential element of all successful Marauder operations. Sirius had created loud diversions, James had played innocent, Peter had been legitimately clueless, Lily had scolded – all while Remus had slipped away to do the real damage.

Sirius leaned his forehead on the window and watched Remus now, wishing... everything. Wishing he hadn’t ruined their lives, first of all – everything that was terrible resulted directly from his own stupidity, and he would never, ever be free of that. He wished again and again, with an agonizing futility, that he had been the Secret Keeper. Then Lily and James would be alive, and Harry would be with them – then he and Remus wouldn’t be a makeshift parenting unit for his godson and his godson’s friends – then Ginny wouldn’t even be here, making a complicated element of their lives even more painful.

Ginny had no idea what this was going to be like. She thought she did – she thought she’d seen everything. Sirius laughed bitterly to himself. He remembered thinking the same thing, at her age. He granted that she had seen more, at seventeen, than he had been exposed to, but she was still behaving with teenaged recklessness, as if all things were immortal. She was treating Remus’s condition as if it was something to be experimented with. Of course, it was easy for her; she had never seen Remus come back to his human state, bleeding and gasping and sobbing. She had never seen his eyes in the moments before transformation, vacant and full of self-hatred all at once. She had never seen him shake and stumble like a toddler getting his legs, something terribly painful to watch in a fully-grown man.

She’ll know tonight. Sirius tried to banish the thought, but he couldn’t. He wanted very much to have faith in Ginny’s ability; now that the potion had been administered, he hoped nothing more than that it would work. But he simply didn’t see how it could, and he wanted to throttle her for going about her business so matter-of-factly, as if she were working toward a given result. She had shown no concern for Remus’s well-being, no fear that she might fail. She had been willful and obstinate and very cutting, whenever Sirius had suggested to her that the consequences of this procedure were far greater than she had considered. And seven days ago, despite his protestations and many angry words, she had handed a goblet full of steaming grey liquid to Remus, who had taken it without a murmur.

It was Remus with whom Sirius was most angry. Ginny was acting her age. Remus should have known better. He should have known, at the very least, to take Sirius’s concerns into consideration – instead, he had brushed off all fears and concerns with light words and thin smiles. He had spent the past week gardening and marking up case files, saying nothing about the anguish that tonight might bring. Sirius had begged him to think again, before taking the first dose, but Remus had only laughed mildly, in his way, and reminded Sirius that it was his own business what he chose to do about the wolf, and no one else’s.

Those words had wounded. Deeply. Sirius had considered the wolf to be his business ever since he had discovered Remus’s lycanthropy at age eleven, at which point he had made the study of Animagi his entire extracurricular life. James had helped, of course, but James had Quidditch to think of, and Lily to go after. Peter had assisted as a lackey would: fetching books and jotting down notes. It had been Sirius, studying and thinking and experimenting and failing, who had ultimately conquered the process. It had been Sirius who had transformed, first, into the enormous, bear-like dog who bore the closest responsibility for corralling the wolf. It had also been Sirius who had spent the bulk of his time for twelve miserable years as Padfoot, remembering Moony. Remembering the smell of his animal companion, and whining for him.

But apparently Remus believed that a person who could spend his entire childhood working to protect him and his entire adulthood pining to be with him, should then be capable of turning his back and allowing the wolf to be his business. Apparently Remus didn’t care if he ripped himself into pieces that Sirius would have to witness. As he had witnessed the last of Lily. And James. And Peter.

Sirius turned away from the window and looked down at the parchment in his hands. He had only one element of control left over the situation, and he would have to use it – he didn’t want to bring more pain into this than there already was, but he had promised Bill that he would let him know, if Ginny carried through with the Wolfsbane Potion. In truth he hadn’t said another word to Bill – he cursed himself for letting the information slip in the first place. But they would owe the Weasleys some sort of protection for Ginny, from the consequences of Remus’s decision. Not that Ginny could be spared the grief, if anything should happen to Remus tonight.

Nor should she be.

Sirius gripped the parchment, steeled himself, and went for the stairs.

~*~

Ginny mopped off her forehead and stared into the cauldron, where a thick, grey mixture simmered and foamed. The full moon would rise tonight, and, in several minutes, she would administer the last of the Wolfsbane Potion to Remus.

Haven’t killed him yet, she thought grimly, praying that this remaining dose would be as harmless as the others had been. Of course, just because the potion was harmless didn’t mean that it was going to work. It was entirely possible that the potion was useless, as well. But she was trying hard not to think about that. Carefully – very carefully – she leaned over the cauldron and inserted a stirring rod, which had been specially treated with a charm so that it wouldn’t cause any chemical interference. She stirred in wide, counterclockwise circles. Once. Twice. Three times.

"Remove rod," she muttered to herself, pulling it out and wiping it on her robes. "Wait for bubbling to begin."

In seconds, large, wartlike bubbles surfaced in the cauldron and began to pop, splashing her skin. Ginny quickly daubed the potion from her face and arms, and continued muttering.

"Bubbles will settle within three minutes’ time, and a foam will rise."

She watched it happen, her heart pounding. It was strange, the way it seemed to be working. She’d never been above average, in Potions class, and she’d never been so invested in the outcome of a bunch of ingredients. Hermione had helped her all week – hovering over her shoulder and offering advice on the proper methods of skinning needleberries and measuring shredded flesh. Of course, this was after she’d got over the shock of what Ginny was proposing to try – her face, when Ginny had confessed her intentions, had been priceless. Hermione had looked positively terrified, yet her eyes had lit with the thrill of a new, academic challenge. She’d put herself to work immediately, boiling the sheep’s brain for Ginny, who had admitted she didn’t know how.

"When the foam rises, allow it to settle for precisely ninety seconds. Then dip a three-quarter sized, pure-silver ladle into the potion, empty contents into goblet, and serve dose to the werewolf in question."

Ron had got her the ladle. He’d stared at her as though she’d gone mad, of course, when she’d explained what she was doing in the study, on the first day. He told her not to do it – said that she was going to get herself in a lot of trouble, trying something this dangerous. But when Hermione had run into the study in a panic, to report that they were going to need the ladle in less than an hour and Remus didn’t keep any silver Potions tools in the house, it had been Ron who’d sprinted down to the apothecary. He’d spent half his paycheck, securing just the right one, then sprinted back and presented it to Ginny with a dubious look on his face, and a skeptical shake of his head. She hadn’t minded. She knew he had faith in her, or he wouldn’t have bothered going out of his way.

Ginny checked her watch. "Eighty-eight... eighty-nine..." she poised the ladle, waited a beat, then dipped it into the cauldron with confidence and withdrew a level dose of Wolfsbane Potion. Quickly, she emptied it into Remus’s goblet, and observed. "Steam will rise," she said to herself. She had memorized every step of this process. It had become almost natural. "It should smell slightly of rot."

"And it does," said a warm voice, at her back.

Harry. She’d forgot that it was Saturday and he wasn’t at practice. Ginny turned around, goblet in hand, to see him looking at her with open admiration. It was the way he’d been looking at her all week. She still couldn’t handle it.

"Would you mind letting Remus know it’s done?" she asked him quickly. "I think he’s in the garden, and I want him to take it right away, but I don’t want to leave it alone. Just to be safe."

"Sure." He smiled, making Ginny’s heart kick, before he left the study. Harry had been... rather at her service, these past two weeks. He’d managed to get in touch with Bill, yet not give away her secret. He had refused to let her pay him back for the things that had been delivered. He’d checked in with her first thing, after every Quidditch practice, and he’d actually sat with her in the study last night, when she’d been unwilling to leave the cauldron and visit the pub with the rest of them. He’d even let her vent her fears, a little. He hadn’t answered – just listened – and she had found herself telling him things she’d never imagined telling Harry. Things about being the youngest and being treated like a child. Things about wanting to be trusted, yet knowing that if the potion failed, she would lose everyone’s trust. Harry hadn’t laughed once.

"What are you doing with that?"

Ginny turned to the door so fast that she nearly spilled the potion. Sirius stood in the doorway, all in black, mercilessly watching her every move. He looked at the precarious contents of the goblet, and snorted softly with contempt.

"I’m waiting for Remus," she answered shortly, putting the goblet carefully on the desk and moving away from it. She wasn’t about to let Sirius ruin everything, at the last minute.

"He hasn’t taken it?" Sirius crossed his arms and fixed his eyes meaningfully on the clock in the corner of the room.

Ginny stiffened. "Harry is getting him," she said loftily. "And I think you’re aware that he can take the dose at any time up until three o’clock. But perhaps you think it’ll take him two hours to travel inside, from the garden?"

Sirius looked at her coldly. "What a time for jokes. I can see just how seriously you’re taking this."

Ginny wanted to retort, but there was nothing to say. He was wrong, and he knew it. She had dedicated herself completely to the success of this potion – she had treated it with all the gravity it deserved – while Sirius had done nothing but needle and provoke her. She’d slept in the study. She’d eaten in the study. She was probably making herself sick, but Sirius didn’t care. And Ginny understood that his depreciating treatment of her was motivated by a desperate concern for his best friend, but she hated it and refused to accept it.

"Anything else to say?" she asked briskly, turning back to her cauldron, and polishing off her ladle, taking care not to knock the goblet. She heard Sirius enter the room, and the sound of squeaking leather told her he had taken a seat.

"Several things. I’ll say them to you both."

"Fine." Ginny put the ladle down and began polishing the stirring rod. She lay it down beside the other tools, then moved to put out the fire beneath the still-simmering potion.

"And you’re just going to leave that ladle out, when he comes in?" asked Sirius, condescendingly.

"It isn’t going to hurt him, it’s not going anywhere near him, and it’s used with this potion for a very specific reason, Sirius," Ginny snapped, turning around. "You know that. Silver, to werewolves –"

"I am quite familiar with the details of lycanthropy," he said pointedly, his eyes very unfriendly.

"Yes, that’s certainly true." Remus stood in the doorway, with Harry just behind him. His voice was even and his face quite neutral as he looked from Sirius to Ginny. "Ready?" he said to her.

She nodded, grateful that at least one adult in her life had some measure of trust in her. Remus had never appeared nervous about this experiment for a moment, and that held true now, as he stepped up and took the goblet in his hands. He smelled the steam, and made a face.

"Well, if smell is anything to go by, Ginny, then this is going to work out just fine." He drank the entire contents of the goblet as quickly as he could, with his face screwed up in disgust. "Tastes perfect, too," he said hoarsely, putting the cup down gently on the desk and smiling at Ginny. He dug a peppermint imp out of his pocket and quickly put it in his mouth. "And that ends the worst bit of it, for another month."

Sirius swore, very quietly, under his breath.

Remus faced him. "I’m not worried," he said quietly. "At this point, there’s no use in being worried. It either works or it doesn’t. I think it will."

Ginny felt a rush of gratitude toward her teacher and could hardly hold herself back from hugging him right there on the spot.

Sirius ignored him. "I have a little something for you," he said ominously, then reached into his robes and pulled out a flattened roll of parchment, which he thrust at Remus.

Remus unrolled and read the parchment. His hands began to shake immediately, and Ginny moved toward him, curious and afraid.

"What is it?" she asked, reaching out for it. Remus shook his head, but put it in her hands at once, and she read the scroll for herself.

I, Remus Lupin, hereby declare myself solely responsible for any physical or financial damage that should occur as the result of imbibing an amateur Wolfsbane Potion. Virginia Weasley bears no responsibility for this potion’s failure to sedate me, during the hours of the full moon. I will answer to any crimes I have committed as a werewolf, when I have fully returned to my human state. Furthermore, Virginia Weasley bears no responsibility for my own life, should this potion prove to contain a fatal overdose of wolfsbane, or any other ingredient. Virginia Weasley is also hereby absolved of responsibility, should I take my own life during the hours of the full moon. I enter into this contract willingly, and have been informed of all possible aftereffects. I am aware that this is an illegal action, and I will bear all consequences accordingly.

Signed: _____________________ Dated: _______

Ginny let go of the scroll with one hand, and it rolled up loosely, on its own. She was suddenly so afraid that she could hardly see straight, but she turned to Remus and found her voice.

"You can’t sign this," she said weakly. "Don’t sign this. I don’t want you – "

"Hurt?" Sirius interrupted, his voice hard. "Endangered? Involved in an illegal activity? It’s a little late to think of those things. He has to sign that contract. Your brother is concerned about you, and I think we owe your family a measure of protection for you, since we are acting as your guardians."

"My... brother?" Ginny looked at Sirius, confused. "Ron told you to do this?" She couldn’t believe it. He’d seemed so supportive.

"Here, let me see." Harry had stayed very quiet, but now he was right beside her, tugging the scroll out of her hand.

"Your brother Bill," Sirius replied, "who very barely consented to allow this to continue without informing your parents."

Ginny blanched and looked at Harry, who was frowning gravely at the contract. "But you... Harry, I thought you didn’t tell Bill what the ingredients were for."

He met her eyes at once. "Of course I didn’t," he answered simply.

"I did." Sirius stood up and addressed Remus, who was staring at him incredulously. "After a meeting at the Ministry, the other day, Bill mentioned that Harry had asked him to send some interesting ingredients here, from Knockturn Alley."

"And you thought it was wise," Remus said faintly, "to tell him what they were for?"

"No less wise than sending for the ingredients in the first place." Sirius gave Harry a piercing look, and returned his gaze to Remus. "He was concerned about Ginny’s liability – not surprisingly. I was concerned about your health. I told him to give me a chance to talk you out of it before he involved the Weasleys. Of course, that didn’t work."

"You went and told on me to Bill?" Ginny fumed, unable to believe what she was hearing. "Sirius, did it ever occur to you that I’m seventeen, and of age, and willing to take responsibility for myself?"

Sirius ignored her and spoke to Remus. "Go ahead and sign it. I think you know it’s necessary."

Remus still looked shocked, but he held out his hand to take the parchment from Harry, and walked to his desk.

"Don’t put your name on that," Ginny said earnestly, following him and putting her hand over the inkbottle. "I’d rather be the one in trouble – this was my idea."

Remus looked at her and shook his head. "It’s my risk," he said, then had to clear his throat and start again, because his voice was so dry that the words hadn’t quite come out. "This is my risk," he repeated. "I’m glad someone thought of this, actually – though I very much doubt that it will be necessary." He gently took her hand from the inkbottle and dipped his quill, then signed the contract with a neat, firm hand.

When the ink had dried, he rolled up the parchment and handed it to Ginny.

"You keep this, in case of an emergency." Remus’s tone was very normal. Very controlled. But Ginny felt a very tense and palpable heat, coming from his body, as he stepped around the desk and crossed to the door, motioning for Sirius to follow him. "I’m going to make tea," he said curtly. "Why don’t you join me."

It wasn’t a question, and Remus didn’t stay to hear the answer. After shooting another hostile glance at Ginny, Sirius left the room as well.

Ginny wanted to curl up the armchair and cry. Better yet, she wanted to throw something. This potion had caused far more anger and pain than she’d anticipated, and the moon hadn’t even risen yet. If anything went wrong... She couldn’t bear to think about it.

Swiping at her eyes with one hand, she pulled her wand with the other and began furiously to clean up after herself. The cauldron spun out of the fireplace and clanked to the floor at her feet. She dried up the remainder of its contents and Summoned her tools, letting them fall with a bang into the iron belly where there had just been Wolfsbane Potion. Or what she hoped had been Wolfsbane Potion. She didn’t know.

"Want help?"

Ginny jumped. She had honestly forgot that Harry was there. He stood by the desk, looking grave and worried.

"Yes," she answered honestly. "But it’s nothing you can help with."

"Why, what is it?" Harry said, glancing at the cauldron as if it wouldn’t be all that difficult to float the thing upstairs.

"It’s the potion – I shouldn’t have done it – I want Remus to be all right and I don’t want Sirius to hate me." The words tumbled out of Ginny before she could stop them, and she felt herself begin to cry. She gritted her teeth against the tears, but they got through anyway, and she rubbed them from her face fiercely, hating herself for being such a baby.

Harry watched her edgily, seeming a bit panicked. "Sirius doesn’t hate you," he finally said.

Ginny laughed, though it sounded more like crying. "Oh, right, that’s why he’s stalked me all over the house, and given me horrible looks, and told my brother what I’m doing." She shook her head. "Maybe he’s just worried about Remus – but so am I – and he just thinks I’m irresponsible and careless. Damn it." She put down her wand and put both hands over her face, wishing she had a tissue. The truth was that, aside from her fears about Remus, it was unbelievably painful to know how poorly Sirius thought of her, right now. His opinion mattered to her, very much. He headed the Order of the Phoenix, he was one of her father’s trusted friends – and he was Harry’s godfather.

"He doesn’t hate you," Harry repeated. But this time his voice was very close.

Ginny looked through her fingers and found herself eye to eye with him. He held out something white.

"What’s this?" she sniffled, taking it quickly and blinking in surprise. "You carry a handkerchief?" she asked, hiding a smile at the old-fashioned gesture.

"Not really." Harry reddened slightly. "I was carrying it around because I ripped up my ankle yesterday. Bad landing. Figured I should have something on me in case it started bleeding again – don’t worry, I didn’t use it yet," he said quickly.

Ginny wiped her eyes, then turned away and blew her nose a little. "I wasn’t worried," she managed, putting the handkerchief in her pocket, to wash. "Thank you, Harry." She turned around again. He was still right there, looking strangely awkward.

"You’re welcome," he said, then tentatively reached up his hand and briefly touched the side of her face.

Whether he was wiping away a stray tear, or merely touching her, Ginny didn’t know. She stared at him, feeling his fingertips move slightly, then leave her skin. She wished they wouldn’t. She had an urge to lean forward and keep them there. Being touched like that by Harry, even very briefly, left her with an empty, wanting feeling.

"It’ll work," he said simply, pushing up his glasses with the hand he’d just used to touch her. "I’m going to go and practice on my own, but I’ll be back before the moon comes up. Will you be okay?"

Ginny nodded wordlessly, and watched him go, her stomach clenching like a cold, metal fist, at the mention of moonrise. It was nearly two o’clock. Moonrise wouldn’t happen for hours. There was a tightness in her chest that she couldn’t escape, and, now that Harry was gone, she suddenly registered the sounds of very angry male voices, coming from the direction of the kitchen.

Not wanting to hear Sirius and Remus fight about the same thing, all over again, Ginny quickly floated her cauldron upstairs and shut her bedroom door. She sent the cauldron into its corner with a loud bang.

Hermione, who was lying on her bed reading, sat up. "I heard fighting," she said gently.

Ginny didn’t answer. She leaned back against the door, not sure where to go, positive that she would cry again, if she opened her mouth. Or else throw up, from nerves. She pressed her lips together and felt her forehead wrinkle up and her eyes squeeze shut. She was going to sob at any second. "If it doesn’t work – " was all she managed.

In an instant, Hermione was hugging her and saying soothing things, and Ginny allowed herself to be guided back to bed for awhile. After all, there was nowhere she had to be, and no potion she had to brew.

There was nothing to do now, but wait.

~*~

On the way home from his self-imposed Quidditch practice, Harry met up with Ron, who had left the pub early, to be present for the transformation. Harry told him right away about the contract that Sirius had drawn up.

"Good," Ron said at once. "I mean, no offense to Remus – I know it isn’t his fault he’s a werewolf. But Ginny could get arrested for messing around with stuff like this, if anything bad happens, and if Sirius isn’t going to keep Bill up to date, then the contract’s not a bad idea." Ron looked very uneasy. "Just in case."

Harry felt nauseated. If that contract turned out to be necessary, it would mean that one of them had been hurt, or that Remus had badly injured himself. He couldn’t stand to think about that happening. Moreover, he couldn’t stand to think about how Ginny would feel. He knew too much about guilt to wish it on anyone else.

"It’s going to work, isn’t it?" Ron asked anxiously. "You watched her make most of it – it’s fine, right?"

Harry didn’t answer. He didn’t know if it was going to work, but Ginny was feeling lousy enough without everybody adding new doubts into the mix. He looked at the sky, which was full of fiery clouds that made his stomach clench. The sun was setting. "C’mon," he said, and he and Ron hurried toward Lupin Lodge.

They dropped their things in the hallway and continued quickly to the back of the house, where Hermione was sitting in the sunroom with her knees pulled up under her chin, looking worried and quiet. Ron sat next to her at once and put a protective arm around her.

"What’s happened? Anything?"

Hermione leaned her head on his shoulder. "Sirius is putting Remus in the shed," she said faintly. "It’s awful."

Harry went for the door at once, needing to see Remus before he got locked up.

"No, Harry, don’t – it’s bad enough without everyone crowding, and Remus said he’d rather we stayed in – " Hermione called after him.

Not heeding her, he pushed out the door and strode into the back yard – then stopped. Across the patches of growing things, in the far corner of the garden, was a tableau he wasn’t keen to interrupt. Remus was speaking to Ginny in low tones, and she was listening avidly, nodding every so often. Her hair lit up like a torch under the setting sun, making her appear especially strong. But otherwise she just looked frightened – her face was very white and Harry thought he could see her fingers trembling. When Remus finished speaking, he put out his hand, as if to shake hers, but Ginny ignored it and threw her arms around him. He looked startled, but briefly hugged her back.

Sirius stood beside the shed, watching them, anger evident in his features. He shook his head slowly from side to side, his eyes dark and furious, the angles in his face sharper than usual.

"The sun," he said harshly, moments later, and Harry could hear him from all the way across the garden.

Remus pulled back from Ginny and patted her shoulder, moving toward the shed. He pulled the door open, then turned back and very quietly said something to Sirius, who stood stonily and did not reply. Remus waited a moment, and when there was no answer, he reached out and touched the top of Sirius’s arm, then turned resignedly away.

Sirius came to life. He grabbed Remus’s forearm before he made it into the shed and pulled him into what looked like a bone-breaking hug.

"I’ll be right out here." Sirius’s voice was low, but so urgent that it carried through the garden. "If it starts to go wrong I’ll let you out and Padfoot’ll deal with everything. I won’t leave you in there."

Remus said something with a shake of his head, disentangled himself from Sirius with a half-smile on his face, and walked into the shed without another word. He shut the door firmly behind him.

"Lock it," Harry heard him yell, from inside.

Sirius raised his wand, and bolts slid heavily into place. He then walked the perimeter of the little structure, muttering spells that Harry assumed were meant to fortify the strength of the walls and the locks on the door.

Ginny hadn’t turned toward the house. She remained where Remus had left her, staring at the door of the shed, her arms wrapped around herself as if she were very cold, though the evening was quite warm. She rocked forward and back, reminding Harry of when she’d been a little girl on the verge of telling him and Ron about Tom Riddle.

"Go in." Sirius came around the shed and motioned Ginny toward the house. His tone brooked no refusal.

Harry saw her spine straighten. She dropped her arms to her sides, but otherwise she didn’t move an inch.

"Go in, Ginny. You’ve done what you wanted to do. I want all of you to stay inside with the door locked, no matter what happens. Unbreakable Charms on the first floor windows aren’t a bad idea either. Understand me?"

"I want to be here – "

"In."

Harry felt a flash of anger on Ginny’s behalf, remembering what she had said the other day, about people always ordering her around as if she were a child. Sirius had been doing a lot of that, lately.

"Go ahead," Remus called out, much more gently. "It’s really all right. Go have dinner – I’m going to be fine."

Sirius folded his arms and stared Ginny down until she finally backed off. "Goodnight, Remus," she called, her voice thick.

"Goodnight, Ginny."

She turned and walked to the house, hugging herself again. As she came closer, Harry saw that her face was streaked with tears, though she was no longer crying. She looked tired and scared, and she stopped short when she noticed Harry standing there.

"Help me put spells on the windows?" she asked, her voice still slightly choked.

Harry nodded and followed her up the steps toward the back door. "What did he say?" he asked quietly.

She turned partly, her hand resting on the doorknob. "What do you mean?"

"Remus. When Sirius said he’d let him out of the shed."

Ginny pulled an uneven breath and Harry saw her knuckles whiten as she gripped the knob. "He said, no you won’t, because there are children in this village and I don’t want any of them ending up like me." She opened the door and went in.

Harry shuddered, wondering if the werewolf who had bit Remus ever felt guilty, or even remembered. Perhaps werewolves were unaware of the things they had done, in their bestial state – he’d have to ask Hermione. He stopped in the doorway and looked over his shoulder quickly, at the precarious metal shack that was Remus’s cage. The last of the sunlight glinted on its roof, then disappeared, leaving the world in a fire of purple and red dusk. Somewhere beyond the forest, down at the line of the horizon, the moon had already risen. It would climb into the sky and its light would fall on the shed - and then it wouldn’t matter how many contracts Sirius drew up. Nothing could stop what would happen to Remus.

Across the garden, Sirius still held his wand as if to cast a spell, but he had finished muttering and walking around the outside of the structure. Now he stood still, staring at the door, breathing heavily. His profile was sharp, his expression frozen with mute fury, and almost everything about his posture suggested that anger with Ginny was his uppermost emotion. But Harry noticed that his free hand dangled uselessly at his side, and that his left shoulder seemed to slump.

He tore his eyes away from his godfather and went inside, where he was surrounded by Hermione, Ron and Ginny, quietly casting spells on the windows of the sunroom.

"I’ll get the front room," Hermione said softly, and Ron followed after her to check on the kitchen and dining area. Ginny disappeared into the study. Harry fought the urge to follow her and instead fixed the glass and locks on the front door. He managed the little window in the loo, and secured the back door with a few deft twists of his wand and a few Latin words, which he spoke without a second thought. He paused to appreciate the depth of his education, but only briefly, before he went into the back garden again and locked the door from without. He needed to speak with Sirius. He had no idea, however, what it was that he wanted to say.

Sirius kept his back to the house as Harry approached, giving him time to think about what exactly was on his mind. There were so many things to think about at once that Harry hardly knew where to begin. He had been ill at ease, lately, with Sirius’s worried, protective... fatherish behavior toward him. It wasn’t that he didn’t like it, or that he wanted it to stop, but it was something he’d never experienced and it was difficult to accept - especially because it seemed to Harry that if Sirius was so over-concerned about his welfare, he must think him incompetent in some way.

Harry pulled thoughtlessly at high stems of grass, shredding the stalks in his hands as he went through the garden, his eyes trained on the back of Sirius’s head. Mingled with his irritation was another unsettling feeling - a new, protective loyalty to Ginny. It bothered him that Sirius was so dismissive of what Ginny was trying to do for Remus. Partly it only annoyed him because Sirius was essentially treating her like a child and he knew how it felt... but part of him was angry simply for Ginny’s sake. Seeing her upset made him irrationally, defensively angry - but whether it was his right to stand up to Sirius for her, or whether she would even want him to, he didn’t know.

He was only feet from the shed when his approach was detected. Sirius jumped and jerked his head away from the door to glare over his shoulder. His expression only barely softened when his eyes fell on Harry.

"Go inside and lock the door," he said shortly. "It’s getting too close."

Harry bristled. "Look, I just wanted to..." But he stopped. He still didn’t know how to explain himself, and suddenly, looking at the door of the shed, he realized that Remus could hear him. It probably wasn’t the time or place for demanding adult treatment from his godfather. He looked up at the sky, then back at Sirius, who had gone back to narrowly watching the shed, every muscle tensed.

"We can talk in the morning about whatever it is," Sirius muttered, not turning back. "I want all of you inside." He looked edgily toward the treetops that marked the horizon where moonrise would begin. "Go now."

But Harry didn’t move. For reasons he wasn’t quite sure of, he stayed put and pulled his wand. "I’ll stay in case you need help," he insisted.

Sirius’s gave a tense, bitter laugh, then smothered it almost immediately. His eyes flitted dangerously to Harry’s wand. A silent, incomprehensible struggle played itself out on his face, before he opened his mouth to speak. "Unless you're planning to kill him with that, a wand isn't going to do you much good here. And what I need is to know you're inside where it's safe."

Harry straightened his shoulders and stayed where he was. "I think I can take care of myself," he said, his voice low and even.

Sirius’s eyes flashed and he turned on Harry with sudden, violent energy. "I know," he said harshly. "I’ve seen you take care of yourself often enough when you shouldn’t have had to, and I don’t want you doing it again - especially not here, and not now - and not about this, of all things - damn it -"

Harry nearly jumped at the unexpected honesty of his godfather’s remarks. He stared wordlessly at him, having no idea how to reply.

"Sirius."

Remus’s voice issued from behind the metal walls with a strange, quiet strength, and Sirius’s head dropped for a moment. He took several long, ragged breaths and raised his head, then surveyed the sky with one long sweep and, seeming to come to some decision, swept past Harry in the direction of the house.

"I’ll be right back, Moony," he barked. "Harry, follow me."

Harry did so, glancing briefly at the shed. "See you, Remus," he said, and heard a faint, muffled reply in the affirmative.

Sirius was inside in several long strides, with Harry not far behind. In the sunroom, Ron and Hermione had returned to their spot on the sofa, where they were talking in low voices. Both of them stopped, however, and looked up at Sirius in surprise as he pulled the door shut with a decided slam.

Harry shrugged at the worried look Ron shot him, then paced across the room, as if on instinct. Balled up in a chair with her arms around her knees, Ginny was staring out of the window at the shed. Her posture shifted entirely as Sirius entered; she sat up straight, put her feet on the floor, and fixed him with a defiant look. Harry stopped beside her chair and pinned his eyes on Sirius as well.

"These windows?" Sirius asked curtly, gesturing to the one on his left.

"They’re Charmed," Ron replied. "So’re all the rest on this floor."

Sirius nodded, and his eyes shifted from Ron and Hermione, to Ginny, and then slowly to Harry, before he spoke. "No matter what you see or hear from Remus tonight, you are not to mention it to him afterwards." His tone was not as cold as it had been earlier; he seemed closer to some kind of emotional explosion than he had then, and seemed to be having trouble keeping his tone of voice under control. "Do you think he wants to be witnessed at this?" He laughed hoarsely and looked back at Ginny. "You can’t really understand what this means to him. He appears calm and cool where the wolf is concerned – and he’s anything but. This is a private –" Sirius clenched his fingers, looking as though he couldn’t quite continue.

"But Sirius..." Hermione’s voice was soft, her face studiously turned toward him. "We - well, most of us - have witnessed this before."

Sirius looked at her sharply. "Do you think that was the real werewolf? You think what you saw that night, outside the Shrieking Shack, was everything? That was a moment, Hermione. You have no idea what he’s capable of, like this - at least in that circumstance I was there to fight him, but tonight –" He shut his eyes, but Harry had a feeling that if he’d opened them again, he would have looked directly at Ginny. "He’s in a cage, in that shed. He’s got no one to fight but himself. And the damage – when I’ve already seen..."

Harry was glad that Sirius didn’t finish his sentence. He’d imagined, too many times, precisely what damage Sirius must have seen.

When Sirius looked up again, his gaze was directed at Harry. "He needs a little bit of control over this," he managed, and Harry wondered for one terrified moment if he was about to see his godfather cry. He had a panicked urge to look away, but made himself keep eye contact. "The Wolfsbane Potion gives him that. We used to be able to give him that." He smiled, brokenly. "Your father had a pair of horns... there wasn’t any way that Moony was getting past him."

Beside him, near his elbow, Harry heard Ginny take a small, choked breath. He didn’t look at her. He didn’t know what would come of the burn in his chest if he looked at anyone. He let his eyes wander out of the window and rest on the shed, as Sirius continued.

"I don’t know why he’s given that control away. I can’t - pretend to understand it. And you - Ginny, you don’t know what this is going to do to his spirit -" Sirius went quiet. His voice had failed him.

The silence that descended on the room was punctuated only by Ginny’s dry, shallow breathing. Harry tore his eyes from the shed and looked down at the top of Ginny’s head, coppery-bright even though the light outside was nearly gone and no one had bothered to light the lamps. Without knowing why he did it, Harry lifted his hand and placed his fingers softly on the crown of her head. She jumped, slightly, beneath his touch, but didn’t move away. And Harry wasn’t certain, but he thought that her shoulders had relaxed - if only barely.

Ron cleared his throat abruptly. Harry raised his head at once, expecting to see a meaningful glance directed his way, but Ron was pointing to the window, looking grim. "The moon," he said simply, and replaced his arm around Hermione’s shoulders.

Harry felt the gloss of Ginny’s hair disappear from beneath his hand as she leapt to her feet. For a split second, Sirius faced her, his face devoid of color. Then he whirled to the door and bolted through it, leaving it wide open as he ran toward Remus.

Ginny nearly threw herself against the window to watch, and Harry did the same. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hermione lock the door with her wand, then felt her and Ron come up behind him.

Harry squinted into the darkness at his godfather, who disappeared in mid-stride and was replaced by a streak of ebony in the moonlight. Padfoot. The moon itself had pushed partway above the trees and hung there in the black sky, immovable. Harry had a fierce urge to change its position, to black it out with a spell or force it back down and end this now. But there was no stopping the silver light that spilled gracefully across the forest and garden, reflecting gently off the slanted roof of the shed.

"I shouldn’t have done this." Ginny seemed to be speaking more to herself than anyone else; it took Harry a moment to hear what she’d said. Her fingers curled against the glass. "I don’t know what made me do this. I don’t know what I was thinking."

"Ginny..." Hermione put her hand past Harry and touched Ginny’s shoulder. "It’ll be all right."

Ginny shook her head. "Remus is going to get injured," she whispered. "It’s my fault. I have to do something, I want to go out there –" She turned as if to move toward the door, but Harry, Ron and Hermione closed in around her, keeping her near the window. She made a soft sound of protest, but stayed where she was.

Seconds later there was a high-pitched, animal whine.

All four of them went still and listened. In the darkness, Harry could just make out the shape of Padfoot. The enormous black dog nuzzled his nose into a crack of the shed’s door, where he continued to whine fretfully, as if seeking an answer.

"Shouldn’t we hear a... growl, or a howl, or something?" Ron asked, anxiously nudging Hermione.

Harry was about to answer that they wouldn’t hear anything, if the potion had worked properly, but he never got the chance. A very faint, tired whine echoed back to Padfoot from within the shed, and all of them froze.

"He’s transformed," Ginny breathed, breaking the silence first. "He’s a wolf. Oh, Remus..." She flattened her hands against the window and went paler than Harry had ever seen her. "Please," she muttered, to no one in particular.

Padfoot barked, making the four of them jump together, and continued barking in what sounded like a patterned succession. Harry imagined that they must be able to speak to each other, like this, because when Padfoot had finished making noise, Moony returned a quick, low, growling noise through the metal wall.

"What are they –"

"I don’t know, Ron, shhhh."

Padfoot barked again, then chased his tail in a circle once and howled up into the night sky before bounding with shaggy, fluid grace up to the back door. Harry lost sight of him on the stairs, as he neared the side of the house, and an instant later, Sirius had blown the back door wide open, his wand out, his eyes bright and wild and focused entirely on Ginny.

Harry took an instinctive step back, to protect her. He couldn’t tell, from the statement on Sirius’s face, what his godfather was about to do.

But Sirius paid no attention to anything in his way. He came toward them with fierce purpose, reached between Ron and Hermione and around Harry, and took Ginny by her arms. In seconds, he had grabbed her up entirely, lifting her feet clear off the floor. She gasped as if Sirius was squeezing the life out of her, which Harry thought he probably was.

"I’m sorry," Sirius rasped over her shoulder, clutching her to him so hard that it looked painful, keeping his eyes pressed shut. "I’m so sorry, Ginny. You’ve done it."

At those words, Ginny’s body seemed to slump, and she dropped her head on Sirius’s shoulder. He held onto her for a moment longer, then kissed her forehead swiftly, making her give a laugh that sounded more like a gasp of shock. Hastily, he restored her to her feet and, with a joyful bark, he morphed into the dark and massive canine shape that had been Harry’s first glimpse of Sirius Black. He disappeared back into the garden, taking giant leaps toward the shed, where he settled down, barking and whining at intervals, and seeming to shiver with relief whenever Moony answered.

In the midst of the noise and movement, Harry was surprised to feel a hand grip his wrist. He turned to see that Ginny, though standing on her feet, was swaying slightly and using him for support.

"I’m not..." she began, as if to explain herself, but trailed off, apparently lost, and looked around. Hermione and Ron were both staring at her - Hermione with open admiration; Ron gawping. Ginny barely laughed. "I know," she said to her brother, and shook her head, seeming as dazed as he was by her success. "I know. I think I’ll... go to bed."

She let go of Harry’s wrist and attempted to walk to the hallway, but her legs seemed weak, to Harry, and he felt she shouldn’t try the stairs alone. Quickly he caught up to her and took her hand, pulling her arm across his shoulders so that she could rest on him. He reached his own arm across her back to hold her up by the waist. It was slim and soft in his grip, and suddenly it felt quite an intimate place to touch her. He nearly froze from nervousness, especially when it hit him that Ron and Hermione were still in the room, and most certainly watching his attempt at getting Ginny up to bed. To sleep, Harry told himself quickly, irritated to feel himself blushing when nothing had been insinuated at all, by anyone except himself.

Ginny turned her head slightly, shifted her body, and put pressure on his shoulders, for balance. "Thank you," she murmured, and barely caught his eye.

It was only a second, but Harry’s heart leapt in relief. The look she’d given him told him that there was no need to move his hand away. He supported her out of the room and up the stairs without daring to glance back at the looks he knew were on Ron’s and Hermione’s faces. He barely registered the fact that her legs seemed quite steady on the stairs, and that she was hardly holding onto him at all, meaning that she was probably fine to walk without his help. But, as his mind didn’t seem to be working properly, he didn’t think it was a good idea to trust his perception at the moment. He kept hold of her.

The girls’ room was dark and quiet. Someone had left the window open; a cool, humid summer breeze played through the curtains and grazed pleasantly across Harry’s unusually hot face. His cheeks seemed to burn more intensely the closer they got to Ginny’s bed. When they reached it, she slipped her arm off of his shoulders, but he didn’t follow suit. He couldn’t bring himself to let go of her. Not yet.

"Thanks," she said again, her eyes lowered. "I’m okay now, really."

Her voice was oddly thick, and Harry wanted her to lift her face so that he could see it and make sure that she was telling the truth. "You are?" he asked doubtfully.

She nodded. "Mm-hmm," she replied vaguely. "I’m just surprised, you know?" She paused. "And really tired." She smiled a little and raised her eyes, and Harry saw that they were brimming with tears.

"Oh," he said awkwardly, "er..." It was the second or third time he’d seen her like this, in a week, and he couldn’t get used to it. It was one thing when Hermione had an emotional outburst and flew into tears; he was almost used to those moments, though they were rare indeed, and he could laugh at them a little, thinking that Hermione was rather highly-strung. But Ginny was much lower key, and her tears unnerved him. Harry didn’t have anything to give her, and he didn’t know any way to stop them, though he somehow felt he should have known. Helplessly, he met her gaze. Only a few weeks ago, Ginny had put him to bed and given him his nightclothes when he’d returned from ushering the Dementor back to Azkaban. She’d known exactly what to do.

He had no idea.

"What do you... need?" he attempted, feeling very stupid, and wondering again what on earth had ever made her like him. Maybe she didn’t, anymore. Or wouldn’t, after this. She’d just made a Wolfsbane Potion – done something incredible – and here he was, standing here next to her, stuttering like an idiot.

She didn’t answer right away, but did something that was, in Harry’s opinion, altogether better. She briefly rested her head on his shoulder.

Harry shut his eyes, stunned by the sensations that she caused in him with such a simple movement. He hoped she wouldn’t move again, quite yet.

"I don’t need anything," she murmured, sending a bolt of pure electricity through the center of his body as her voice and breath vibrated on his skin. He held tightly to the warmth of her waist – partly because he wanted to keep touching her, and partly because he had to hold onto something in order to keep his footing. "You’ve helped so much." She was beginning to sound drowsy, as if he’d just roused her from sleep to have this conversation. "If you hadn’t written to Bill, I couldn’t’ve done it. You’ve been... such a friend, to me."

Harry was on the verge of admitting that he wanted to be more than a friend, to her, when he felt the weight of her head disappear from his shoulder. Disappointment rushed through him – but was replaced almost instantly by sheer, startled pleasure.

Ginny’s lips were on his cheek.

"Goodnight, Harry." Her whisper stirred the little hairs on the skin of his face, giving him terrible gooseflesh and a painful desire to turn his face the necessary fraction and kiss her fully on the mouth. If her lips felt like this on his skin, he could only imagine what they would feel like, moving against his own. He gathered his courage.

But she was moving now, pulling away from his hand, slipping out of his grasp and crossing to her desk, where she picked up a scroll of parchment that Harry recognized as the contract Remus had signed. Ginny drew her wand and set the parchment on fire in midair, before her. It flared up beautifully in the darkness, lighting her like a flame for a fleeting second before for she twisted her wand once more, sending the fire and ashes away into thin air. She nodded briefly, lay down her wand and withdrew a nightdress from her bureau, then turned and looked at Harry, pajamas in hand, smiling a little. She was obviously waiting for him to leave so that she could change, and Harry knew he should go. However, he was rooted to the spot, watching her, wondering how it was that her hair could shine like that even after the fire was extinguished.

"I promise I’m fine," she said. He didn’t move. "Really, Harry," she insisted, as if concern for her welfare was his reason for continuing to stand there, staring at her. After another long moment in which he couldn’t seem to move his limbs, Harry realized that he had better pretend that it was the reason.

"All right," he said, hoping that his voice sounded normal. "Er... sleep well." He headed for the door, trying to shake the electricity from his brain and make it think properly. It was difficult. Only when he’d left the room and nearly shut the door, did he realize what he ought to be telling her. He turned back in the doorway so quickly that his glasses slid down a bit on his nose.

Ginny stood in the middle of her room, holding her nightdress and watching him questioningly.

"You were amazing," he blurted, feeling his face go red. "I mean it. Congratulations."

Ginny’s eyes widened, and she turned so pink that Harry could see it even in the darkness, but she couldn’t fight the lopsided smile that broke across her face.

They stood there for several seconds, gazing at each other, before Harry came to his senses, bid her goodnight, and shut the door with a shaking hand. He returned downstairs, hardly thinking of anything coherent at all. There was only Ginny, and how close he’d just come to kissing her, and how soon he was going to really kiss her, if he ever got the chance, and how damned brilliant she’d been for the past few weeks.

Past few months, really.

Maybe even the past few –

"She okay?"

Harry jerked out of his stupor and felt his face get hot again as he met Ron’s steady, arch-eyebrowed gaze with his own. "She seemed okay," he managed, furious with his voice for cracking so obviously when it hadn’t done so in years.

Ron’s mouth twitched, and he gave Harry a look so deliberately casual that it wasn’t casual at all. "Glad to hear it," he said evenly. "Going to bed. Hermione’s still in there – " he jerked his thumb at the sunroom "– if you want an Arithmancy lesson. Night."

"Night." Harry went past Ron, still hot in the face, and joined Hermione in the sunroom. She didn’t say a word, or lift her eyes from her book, and he was grateful to her for it. The two of them waited there halfway through the night, watching out the window at the moonlit shed, while Harry’s cheek burned beneath the touch of an absent mouth.

Chapter Fourteen

Plans for Autumn

~*~

A/N: Thank you, JediB, for letting us borrow your Sunseed reference, which you use to such good effect in your awesome "Dreams of Yesterday".

A/N II: To the attendees of SQUKNY: Many a good time has been had in New York City; none, however, has been so good as ours. Thank you for being so completely awesome, for traveling such long ways, for wearing your Gryffindor scarves with pride, and for making it all seem just a little... realer.

A/N III: Much thanks to our patient beta-readers for catching mistakes and pointing out holes and making us think very, very hard.

Physical distance is nothing, between kindred spirits.

~*~

It was noon when Ginny blinked awake. She felt a surge of sickening anxiety and shut her eyes again, but remembered after a few groggy moments that everything was over. The Wolfsbane Potion had been a success, and there was nothing to feel guilty and worried over – at least not today.

Yawning happily, she managed to roll out of bed and trudge downstairs for breakfast. The house was warm, bright, and quiet, but she quickly discovered that she wasn’t in it alone. Harry was asleep at the dining room table, his head on his arms.

She stopped in the doorway and let her eyes travel from his hair, which was sticking up all over, to his back, which rose and fell each time he breathed. Part of his profile was visible, allowing her a glimpse of glasses, nose, and open mouth. It was all she could do not to walk across the room and gently kiss him awake – she felt, as she had always felt, that she should have had the right. Instead, she quickly and quietly pulled her wand and made a cup of tea, then took the seat across from him without making a sound.

"Harry," she whispered, reaching a tentative hand across the table to softly touch his hair. "Harry, wake up."

He gasped and started, sitting up so fast that Ginny had to yank her hand away. His glasses fell to the table with a clatter. He fumbled for them violently with his left hand, putting his right hand to his wand at the same time. He finally managed to fix the glasses on his nose, panting. Not until his eyes focused on Ginny did he let out a heavy breath of relief and release his grip on his wand.

Ginny watched him without a word. She’d had her own nightmares for a long time, after everything that had happened with Tom Riddle, and she knew, mostly from stories she’d heard, that Harry suffered from nightmares as well. They were horrible things, and the worst ones felt too real – but the panic that had been coming off of Harry in waves was subsiding now, as he came awake. Whatever terrible dream he’d been having seemed to be ebbing away as he looked at her. Ginny could have sworn that she felt the change in the air itself.

"Hi," he said hoarsely, reaching his fingers under his glasses and rubbing his eyes. "Wh’time is it?"

"Noon," Ginny answered. "But I just woke up."

"I figured you’d sleep longer than that – aren’t you still tired?"

"No," Ginny insisted, but immediately broke out in a wide yawn that made both of them laugh. "Looks like you are, though." She pointed to where he’d been sleeping on the table. "Were you up late?"

Harry shrugged. "I stayed up and watched the shed. I don’t know what time it was."

At once, Ginny felt the rush of admiring love she’d had for him her entire life. It was so very Harry, really, to stay up and watch out for everything well beyond what was actually necessary. Full of a sudden, unstoppable affection, she reached her hand across the table and touched the top of his, coming wide awake at the brush of his Quidditch-weathered knuckles beneath her palm.

Harry took her hand in his at once. "Glad it’s over?" he asked, gazing at her seriously.

Дата добавления: 2015-10-24