A Sea Change

Chapter 4

1 September, 1995, Platform 9 3/4:

"It wasn't enough time." Harry looked at the ground and hunched his shoulders. He knew that if he blinked, he would be officially crying; his eyes burned with the effort of keeping the tears from escaping, willing them not to roll down his cheeks. He felt his godfather's hand on his head, ruffling his hair. Passers-by would think it was the wind, if they noticed at all.

"I know; you’re right, it wasn’t. Never mind, though: I'll be close. Let me know about Hogsmeade weekends and I can meet you at the cave, if you want me to."

Sirius's voice sounded hoarse. Harry felt his godfather's distress; he wondered if Sirius too was trying not to cry. He was almost glad that Sirius had made himself invisible, so that he didn't have to try to look up at him. He wanted to touch him but knew it would look odd, wrapping his arm around what appeared to be empty air. He settled for leaning against Sirius, and was instantly rewarded by the feel of Sirius's arm curling protectively around his shoulders.

Two months: they'd been a family for two months. It had been the best two months of Harry’s life. Two months of love, silliness, fun, and sweeping changes.

Two months of meeting wonderful people: there was Nigel, Sirius’s dad, and his new family—who’d have thought of Sirius having such a thing as a father? Nigel and Maria were kind, funny, accepting, quietly overjoyed to have Andie and Sirius with them. Nigel had said, “Well, Harry, if you ever feel the need for a grandfather, I’ll be happy to act in that capacity.” Nigel and Maria clearly accepted Remus as a proper companion for Andie, as well. Harry had wondered if they would.

Then there’d been his fifteenth birthday, at Folberg, with Ron and Hermione there: there’d been a feast, and cake, and a trip down the fjord in the wonderful ship, the Norse teachers and Remus and Andie singing in Norwegian, their voices echoing over the water. It had been the most beautiful evening of his life. His first ever birthday party.

That visit to Folberg had also been of great importance to Ron: he’d found something he loved. Ron had been so taken with the ship—with all the boats, really—that he’d written to his family asking them if he could transfer to Folberg School and study Marine Arts. When they hesitated to let him take such a major step, he’d approached Erik and offered to work for him, for free, for the rest of the summer—and Erik had agreed! Hermione remarked that this might be what Ron needed: to be different from all his brothers and happy with what he wanted to do. Harry hoped so.

There’d been a wedding, at the seaside somewhere near Edinburgh, on the rocky, windy shore beside an ancient hillfort: Maria’s daughter Tamsin and a Muggle friend of Sirius’s, Pete Armstrong. Pete was a lively, funny young man; his family had come and didn’t seem upset by the magical aspects of the wedding at all. They all called Sirius ‘Sam’ and enjoyed themselves. There’d been lots of wizarding folk there, and Harry was astonished to see that Tamsin’s witness was none other than Charlie Weasley!  Pete’s brother, who’d also been the best man, and several other Muggle musicians played.  There was dancing and lots of wonderful food. There’d also been a tiny, very disconcerting old lady named Zenobia, who held his hand and told him that he was very good for Sirius, and that they were fortunate to be together.

He’d told her he knew that.

There’d been Sirius’s birthday, a couple of weeks later. Another feast, at their own Hut, this time for just the Pack, Nigel and Maria. Sirius hadn’t expected it, hadn’t even remembered that he had a birthday. He went very quiet, just staring at everyone and biting his lip: Harry heard him trying to contain all the love he felt for everyone in the room. He was finally moved to speak when he opened Remus’s gift: a collection of Shakespeare’s plays. He opened the books reverently, and began reciting passages. Remus apparently knew as many of the lines as Sirius did. They soon began acting the different parts, switching plays, sometimes misquoting, sending each other, and their audience, into gales of laughter.

Sirius had been so overcome by the gathering that as soon as Nigel and Maria left, he transformed, and spent the night and all the next day as Padfoot. He spent the next day ambling after one or the other of his Packmates and just staring at the three of them, his tail waving slowly now and then in contentment.

Two months, instead of the lifetime most people spend with their families. Two months, being happy together, knowing that danger lay everywhere but not caring...until now. 

"Look, Sirius—will you be OK all by yourself? I mean, I don't like thinking you'll be all alone. Can't you go up and stay with Nigel, or someone? What if someone finds out about you, or something, and, I mean...." He broke off in confusion. "Or, you know, Norway's not that far; you could stay with the Pack…."

A note of amusement crept into Sirius’s voice, but at the same time, the invisible hand gripped Harry's shoulder tightly. "I'll be fine, don't worry about me. I'll move around a lot. I'll stay at Nigel's some of the time. But I don't want to put him or anyone else in danger; that wouldn't be fair." The hand released Harry's shoulder, moved back to his head, tousled his hair.  "All set, then? Got everything you need: money, books...?"

Harry felt overwhelming, aching love; he couldn't tell if it was from Sirius or himself. He looked away, toward the stone barrier where people were coming onto the platform. There were the Weasleys; Hermione was with them. He waved and called, to ease the tension as much as anything else.

He felt Sirius move back a little, heard him sigh. A break in the mood. "Well, Harry old mate, you should be off then. Have a good term."

Harry felt a slight, quick touch on the top of his head-- a kiss? He smiled. "I'll send you an owl about the Hogsmeade weekends." He walked quickly away, toward his friends.

 Sirius watched him go. Watched him while Hermione gave him a quick hug and Ron punched him lightly on the shoulder, and Harry punched him back. He watched while the three of them looked back to the place where he was standing, and smiled. While they chose a car and disappeared into the train. He watched as the train pulled away with a long, lonesome whistle and great clouds of steam.

                                    ****************************

2 September, 1995, the North Sea

It was nearly Time, she thought. She swam alone, as she always did. As all grey seals did. She automatically moved southward and eastward, toward the Place. Her Kindred had always gathered at about this time, every year, at the Place with the tall black rocks and the birds. She knew by the feel of the water and the smell of the air, when she surfaced, that she was close.

This year, however, no baby would be born to her, and, possibly for this reason, her progress toward the Place was not as urgent as it had been in past years. She swam toward the Place out of habit, not for any pressing reason.

Nearly there: she surfaced, looking toward the southeast with large, soft brown eyes. She could just see the islands on the horizon. She swam more slowly now, thinking of many things. She was early, a bit. Other females would only now begin arriving, to give birth and socialise before the arrival of the males, and then there would be the inevitable squabbles among them, and then there would be Him.

She didn’t feel ready for their company. She was not carrying young this year; she was different. Perhaps a change was in order…. She remembered her last encounter with humans, those amusing, clever creatures. She had often wondered about them. How did they catch their food? They were terrible swimmers, but they moved very gracefully and quickly on land. Perhaps there were things on land for them to eat. She wondered what those things might be. She wondered what humans did, on land. Perhaps a change was in order… perhaps a Change?

She altered her course ever so slightly, making for the island group still, but for a different island than the one formerly in her mind.

                               ****************************

2 September 1995, the Farne Islands:

From the outside, the old red and white Longstone Lighthouse appeared tidy, well-maintained, and very quiet. At night, its automatically-operated light flashed every twenty seconds; during fog, the horn sounded. Periodic maintenance, and occasionally renovation, was done by visiting Muggle crews from the mainland, who did their work and left, shaking their heads over what their job must have been like in the old days, when the light was maintained by resident keepers.

The living quarters beneath the eighty-five-foot tower were primitive, inaccessible, occasionally drenched by wild waves during stormy weather. Tourists, passing by in excursion boats, wondered at the ability of those old keepers to stand the isolation and harsh conditions, over a hundred and fifty years ago.

Which was silly, really. All it needed was a good sealing spell or two, and a few concealment charms.

Old Alice wouldn’t have lived anywhere else.

She sat contentedly in her low-ceilinged, spacious kitchen, gazing at one of her many charts as she sipped her coffee and planned her day. A trip south down the mainland coast, she thought; she hadn’t been that way for a while. It had been fairly quiet, but it never hurt to stay on top of things….

A sudden, enormous rattling roar shook the air, shattering the quiet morning and causing Old Alice to jump up and rush outside in consternation. The wind whipped her white hair around her face as she opened the door, just as the noise subsided with a cough, and Sirius Black swung his leg over the motorbike and set it to rest on its stand.

“Any more water in the kettle? I could use a cup of tea; it’s been a long ride.”

“If you’d had the sense to let me know you were coming, I’d have had breakfast ready for you; as it is, you’ll just have to wait.” Alice grinned at him and strode over to examine the motorbike. “That’s a wicked-looking machine; folk get killed on contraptions like that. Broomstick not good enough for you?”

Sirius was glad he’d acted on the impulse to come here. The Hut, so small and crowded, so cosy and friendly until yesterday, had been nearly unbearable last night in its emptiness. Sparring cheerfully with Alice would keep him firmly in the here-and-now.

“Oh, it’s wicked all right, best motorbike ever made—fastest ever. Broke loads of Muggle speed records. I’ve had this bike since I was fifteen; Hagrid kept it for me while I was… away.” He brushed an imaginary speck of dust off the sleek black tank, accidently touching the gold banner decal with the maker’s name. The letters obediently faded, to be replaced with the word ‘Dogstar’ in the same ornate lettering. He noticed, and blushed a bit for the cocky nearly-sixteen-year-old he’d been when he had created that script charm.

“Making it fly was the first time I ever did anything this complicated with Muggle machinery, but it was dead easy. No trouble at all to get it flying; it wanted to fly. Broomsticks don’t begin to measure up. Want a ride?” His eyes glinted with mischief, his wolfish grin turned slightly menacing, one eyebrow arched.

“You don’t scare me; I'd like a ride, after I’ve had my breakfast.  And I thought you wanted tea.”

The two friends laughed together and turned back to the lighthouse door.

“Actually, I was wondering if I could stay here for a few days," Sirius said, as he stirred his tea and watched Alice cracking eggs into a bowl. “D'you mind if I camp in one of your spare rooms for a bit? The Hut seems awfully empty just now. Remus and Andie tried to get me to come up to Folberg, but I want to be reasonably close to Hogwarts."

Alice poured the eggs into the pan. "Yes, I heard you talked Dumbledore into letting you have Harry for the summer." She chuckled. "I'd have liked to see that-- a first, as far as I know. People don't just talk Albus into things."

She looked him up and down. "Well, I suppose I could put up with you for a while. How do you find fatherhood? Bit of a shock?"

"It’s been great—he’s a wonderful kid. I wish… well, I wish I’d had him all his life. Andie and Remus helped, and we spent some time travelling and seeing friends. It's been the best summer I can remember.

"He asked me, you know, if he could call me ‘Dad’ sometimes.” Sirius’s eyes closed briefly, and he wiped a hand across his face. “Just between us, he said, when nobody else is around. It nearly killed me.”

“I know it must have done. Kids have a way of getting to you, don’t they? Normally they’ll do that when you’re ready to kill them for some other reason—it’s a way they have of surviving. Here, eat these before they go cold, and then you can show me that machine of yours, and then if you haven’t forgotten how, you can help me do my rounds in the boat. You can steer while I look.”

                                            *********************

She hauled herself out onto the rocks, pulling herself along the ground in the peculiar caterpillar-like undulating motion her Kindred used on land. It worked much better in the water; on land she had never bothered to go very far.

Seals had once been land creatures, and she remembered this, somehow. There were efficiently working arms and legs somewhere, inside her. She would think about this in a while, but first, she would rest in the sun. It had been a long swim, from there to Here. The warmth of the sun on the rocks always made her drowsy.

She wasn’t sure, afterwards, whether she’d been awake or asleep: it seemed that her bones could remember the feeling of being longer, being limbs for moving on land. She stretched luxuriously, languidly, making the bones in her flippers as long as possible. Long enough to reach right out of her skin. Eyes closed, she reached forward, the skin of her front flippers parting painlessly to allow the new length through. It felt so good to stretch out, in the warm, late morning sun.

Wth the heels of her hands, she stroked her face, slowly, firmly pushing upward and outward. The skin parted down the middle, sliding stickily back to reveal still-closed eyes in a human face glistening with moisture, smooth and tranquil. She pushed the thick, heavy seal-skin slowly off her head, freeing dark, wet hair.

She lay still for a while, feeling the now-cold breeze on her face, still not opening her eyes; resting. Smiling.

Alice’s little boat had always been quite fond of Sirius; it accepted his hand on the tiller eagerly, with only an occasional tug in another direction to express a difference of opinion. At these times, Sirius always gave in to the boat’s corrections; it knew the water better than he did. Alice paid no attention to her boat or her passenger; she used a sighting charm with her wand to scan the shorelines.

Suddenly she gave a soft exclamation, and motioned for Sirius to approach a barren pile of rock, hardly large enough to dignify by the name “island.”

 “What do you see over there, laddie? Isn’t that a seal? It’s lying a bit strange; I wonder if maybe it was hit by a boat. Let’s get in a bit closer.”

After a time, she awoke. She looked around, amazed: nothing she had ever thought or dreamed could have prepared her for the way human eyes viewed the world. She looked down at her hands, enthralled. Small, strong, square hands. Untold possibilities. She flexed the fingers, wondering, then turned her attention to her half-removed skin. With the palms of her hands, she pushed the skin further off her shoulders, wriggling free, feeling the cold.

Sirius looked. He blinked, and kept on looking. “Gods above,” he whispered. The boat, unattended, carried them to shore.

Then, coinciding with her mild feeling of frustration at the difficulty of pushing the clinging skin away, the fingers of her hands curled themselves around the edge of her seal-skin and pulled slowly. It slipped off easily, leaving her wet, free, and cold. She examined her new human form with interest. She was smaller now, lighter in colour, with a smooth, densely-muscled body: a strong swimmer’s body. She shivered slightly. The air seemed much colder on this thin skin.

A boat was bobbing on the water, just coming to shore. Two humans climbed out. Her Kindred. By the smell of them, a male and a female. Even though it was a bit early, he was most likely gathering his harem. She felt the well-remembered desire for Him, centering in the pit of her stomach, the same as always, yet subtly different. She smiled as they approached. She wanted to bark a greeting, but her new voice would not make a proper bark.

                                              **************************

Alice stood cautiously, watching the young creature as Sirius pulled the boat up onto shore. “Just be as quiet as possible; we don’t want to scare her.”

“I don’t think she’s scared; look, she’s smiling.”

“I’ve never seen one Change like that before; did you ever see such a thing?”

“No, never. Have you ever seen eyes like that?”

“Pretty little thing, sure enough.”

They walked slowly up the rock, until Sirius was close enough to touch her; she instinctively held out a new hand. He remembered his first meeting with the grey seals, nearly a year ago. Hardly daring to breathe, he took her hand, helped her to stand, unsteadily, for the first time in her life. The ground was suddenly a great distance away; she gripped his arm.

He remembered the words, said them softly: “We are Kindred.” He could not look away from her.

Her smile grew absolutely dazzling.

                                        *************************

He Conjured a cloak for her; she gasped as he placed it gently around her shoulders. A skin? So warm…. She looked more closely at the skins of Alice and Sirius. Not skins. Things. She reached her hand out to tug gently at their windbreakers, to touch the rough jumpers and trousers they wore, laughing with her discovery. She slid her fingers under the sleeve of Sirius’s jacket, feeling skin like hers on his wrist, beneath the garment. He shivered.

The female was talking to her: “Aye, lassie, that’s what we call clothes. They keep you warm, don’t they? This cloak’ll do you till we can get you back home, then we’ll find you some proper clothes. Don’t you worry; we’ll look after you.” To Sirius she added, “Better take her seal-skin; if the stories are true, she may want it someday.”

She understood the human’s words. 

                                        **************************

Her hair, when it dried, was straight and thick, the colour of bittersweet chocolate. Her skin was soft, very smooth, a light olive. Her enormous, liquid eyes, the same colour as her hair, seldom left Sirius’s face.

By the evening, she could speak, mostly to ask questions, in a soft, husky voice. Words seemed to come into her head from nowhere, but these were her Kindred; she felt no surprise at her ability to talk to them. She got a great deal of use from the phrase, “What is this?”

“Carpet.”  “Tea, go on, try it. You hold the cup by the handle, see, and….”  “Chair.”  “Table.”  “Food, you’ll like it, it’s chowder. Fish.”  “Socks.”

She was much shorter than Alice, and Sirius’s clothes would have been impossible. After considerable hilarity, trying to teach her how to roll up sleeves, Sirius turned to Alice and said,  “I think Andie’s things should fit her; I’ll just Apparate home and find her something there.” He vanished, producing the first look of alarm Alice had seen on her face.

“Never mind, lassie; he’ll not be gone long.”

“Who is Andie?”

“Andie’s his sister; she’s closer to your size. Her clothes should do for you.”

“His sister? Is she ours? A female? Are we ‘sister’?”

“Sister, well, that’s a female with the same parents as you. Andie has the same parents as Sirius. She’s ours, yes—she’s our friend.”

“Sirius is ours, he is …Him.” She smiled with satisfaction.

“Now, lassie… I think I understand what you mean by ‘ours’ and ‘Him’, it being that season for your folk and all, but I warn you, humans are different. To tell you the truth, I don’t know if Sirius is ‘Him’ for you or not, and he certainly isn’t ‘Him’ for me. It’s… I’m too old to be attempting this discussion. Let’s talk about something else. Bet you’ve never seen a toilet, have you, lass? This I can show you, while he’s gone.…”

Most human ways seemed to come naturally to her; she accepted the answers she was given and learned with lightning speed. A few things were confusing; she frowned over some of the things Alice told her, and didn’t ask further, but did not forget.

Then Sirius returned, his arms full of clothes that fitted her very well, and smelled reassuring. Andie—she liked Andie. Her clothes smelled good.

                                      ******************

6 September, a letter:

Dear Sirius,

Remus is too busy laughing himself sick over your letter, so I will reply. A Selkie! You and Alice have all the luck! Of course, she can keep my clothes.

I think Alice is right; it’s almost breeding season for the Farnes’ grey seals. She probably thinks she and Alice are your harem, and is wondering when you’re going to, well, do what males do, in her experience.

I’d love to come and meet her! Look for me Saturday morning; maybe Remus can come along, if I can get him to behave. (actually, I’ll have to bring him; it’s the full moon and we can spend it together at the lighthouse.)

Love,  Andie

P.S. from Moony: Padfoot, this is a revelation! A beautiful, naked, willing woman on the beach, and you conjure her a cloak. Times change. Will come Saturday, with Andie, to meet your Selkie.              –R.

                                                *************************

“Alice says we will see Andie today. And one called Remus. Are they ours?” She carefully set down her knife and fork, with a feeling of accomplishment. She was proud of her clever, dexterous hands, although the human ways of eating still caused a bit of confusion. One ate some things with the hands, some with a spoon, and some things with the knife and fork. Some foods were only eaten in combination with other foods, as Alice had explained on the day when she ate all the butter from its dish. These details were a source of endless amusement, and yet she took great pride in doing everything right; it made Alice and Sirius happy with her.

“Yes, Andie and Remus are ours. Andie, you know, is my sister, and Remus is my friend. They’ll be your friends too, my lass, and I think you’ll like them both. They should be here soon.” He put the last bit of toast into his mouth, licking jam from one finger.

“Napkin!” she crowed, laughing at him.   

“Too late!” He laughed back at her. “They’re all clean now.” He waggled his fingers in her direction.

Alice looked up from her coffee. “Sirius Black, master of etiquette. Remind me to teach this lass table manners on my own.”

A shout from outside put an end to the conversation; Sirius jumped up and threw open the door. The two women followed him outside and watched him running down to the water’s edge to welcome Remus and Andie.

She sniffed the air uncertainly; Andie’s scent she recognised from the clothes. “Remus is male,” she said quietly. She watched the Pack’s boisterous greetings with concern.

“That’s right, lassie. Don’t worry, though: are you thinking he and Sirius might fight? Humans don’t work like that, at least, not most of the time. That’s not fighting; they’re just happy to see each other. Come on, let’s go down and say Hello.”

She nodded at Alice, took her hand and walked cheerfully down toward the Pack with a confident smile.

“Hello,” she said, extending her hand to Andie. “I am Lassie.”

                                       ***********************

She laughed along with everyone and declared that Sirius should give her a proper name. She knew no names, except theirs, and saw very little use for them in any case, but she knew he could choose a good one.

Remus agreed that Sirius knew lots of women’s names, and received a surreptitious kick on the ankle from Andie.

Sirius stopped laughing. He stood perfectly still, staring at her speculatively. One by one, the others grew silent, waiting. He stroked her hair, once, returning her smile, and at last he spoke, gently.

“I think I’ll name you after the first woman I ever fell in love with,” he murmured. “She was beautiful, and dark like you. She always seemed glad to see me, the way you do, and was incredibly kind to me, even though I was not very lovable back then. She let me stay every time I asked, and made me welcome, every time. I was just a kid when I first met her; I thought she was the loveliest thing I’d ever seen. I’ll never forget her. Her name means “happiness.” That would suit you; d’you like the name ‘Gwynneth’?” He paused, looking over her head at his oldest friend, who smiled as his eyes widened in surprise. “She was Remus’s mother.”

Gwynneth knew, then, that names were more important than she’d thought.

                                              ***********************

“You see the problem, don’t you, Moony? She’s gorgeous, no question, but I dare not touch her. She’d assume—Lord, I don’t know what she’d assume. That’s the problem. She thinks more like a seal than a human. She expects me to gather up a bunch of women and….”

They had taken the boat to the mainland, to a sheltered, sandy stretch of beach, for a picnic. Alice had fallen asleep on the blanket; Andie and Gwynneth had wandered off to the water’s edge. Sirius and Remus sat together on a huge flat-topped stone, watching them.

“So, how do you feel about her? Do you want to touch her? As you say, she’s gorgeous.”

“Of course I do. I mean, of course not! It’d be like sleeping with a five-year-old. Or worse. She needs me, and she doesn’t even know it. She’s like a cross between a baby and a tiger. She doesn’t understand flirting, or romance. She understands hunting…and PLAYING. And she trusts me, Moony; you know I’m helpless with anyone who trusts me.” He stared out towards the sea, watching Andie and—Gwen—strolling at the water’s edge.

“Moony, you can’t imagine what it was like, watching her come out of that skin. She looked up and saw Alice and me, and gave us the most astounding smile. Then, she took my hand—I was the first person ever to speak to her; I helped her to stand up for the first time! She was freezing cold, and completely happy. It never entered her head that she’d have been stranded on that rock in the sea, if we hadn’t come along…. She just accepted Alice and me as the way things are supposed to be. You can’t imagine….” He stopped, and shook his head. Remus watched him for a thoughtful moment.

“You love her.”

“That doesn’t begin to express it, but… yeah.”

“Pads, I’m delighted for you; I hope like hell it works. I’ll help in any way I can. She’ll make an unbelievable Packmate, but…have you talked to Nigel about her at all?”

“No, I’m afraid to. His mum went back to the sea when he was just eleven; that’s bound to have coloured his opinion of Selkies, and I don’t want…but dammit, Moony, the stories are all about the ones who go back; maybe we never hear about the ones who stay on land. And anyway, couples separate all the time. There’s no guarantee I’d ever find a human female who’d stay with me either, especially since I’m in hiding.”

Sirius stopped abruptly, turning to Remus with frustration in his eyes. “Of course, that’s another point. How do I explain being a fugitive? Gwynneth can’t be expected to grasp the first thing about all that. Prison? Crime? Let alone Voldemort— where do I start? It’s got me stonewalled.”  

Alice sat up, stretched, and glowered ferociously at the pair of them. “Stonewalled is a good place for you to be, just now. First things first; we need to worry about giving her a few more lessons in humans’ ways. It’ll be fairer for both of you, to keep your hands off that little thing until she knows what’s what; her life’s more complicated now than it’s ever been before.”

She surveyed the two men sympathetically and moved to the rock to join them. “I know, lad, you want what’s best for her. And then you want her to stay with you forever; I saw how you felt the minute we spotted her. Cheer up; there’s lots of time and you never know what could happen. Andie’s going to be good for her. Look down there; they seem to be having a good time.”

                                                *******************

Andie grinned.  She was enjoying this conversation. They had gone down to the water’s edge to look for seals; Gwen liked the sight of them, even though, she said, she had no wish to rejoin them. She did, however, have questions; questions she hadn’t been able to get Alice or Sirius to address to her satisfaction.

“…at NIGHT? In your BEDS?” Gwynneth burst out laughing. “I’d never have thought of that! Or, wait—is it because of our thin skin? The clothes would get in the way, and humans get cold so easily. Is that right?”

 “Yes, you’re right, and there are other reasons as well. Actually, it just feels wonderful, touching another person’s skin.… Humans generally don’t want a lot of other people around at times like that; we call it privacy. And we generally don’t talk about it, much—at least not to other people. We save our mating for just one person. Mate, husband, lover: we have lots of names for it, but it all means just one person.” She dragged her toe idly in the sand, smiling as she drew a wobbly “R”, nearly losing her balance as she tried to form a heart around it. Laughing at herself.

“We tend to choose just one and stick with him, forever if possible. Humans don’t have a Season, as seals do. Or rather, it’s always the Season, for us. So, in order to get anything else done, we don’t talk about it in the daytime, and just ignore it as best we can. Then at night, we go to bed with our  mates, if we have one.”

“Is Remus your mate?”

Andie found herself blushing and felt foolish for it. Gwen needed to know this. “Yes,” she said firmly. “Yes; he is. At night, we go to one bed together. I love him: I’ll stay with him for always.”

Gwen waited for a moment before asking her next question. “Are Alice and Sirius mates?”

“No, Alice is single; she doesn’t want a mate. Lots of people are like that. Sirius—well, Sirius hasn’t found a mate yet. It’s an important decision for humans, choosing someone you want to stay with forever. And hoping that person chooses you.”

Gwynneth smiled again, her clear, dazzling smile. “Then I will choose him.”

“Gwen—I think you should wait a bit. You don’t have to choose yet. Sirius is a wonderful man, but there are things you need to find out about him, and about living with humans. Wait a while; get to know him first. Tell you what—I have to go back to my home tomorrow, but I’ll come back soon; how about two weeks? Can you wait that long to choose?”

“What are weeks?”

“Weeks—never mind. Will you wait till I come to see you again?”

“I don’t know.”

Andie gave up, and laughed along with her.

                              *******************************

When evening came they went back to the island. The sky was clear, and they watched together as the moon came up. Her people all put their arms around each other. At Andie’s urging she copied this behaviour and was drawn into the circle with them; she was pleased at the feeling that came with it. She watched as Remus and Sirius changed. She had never seen a dog or a wolf before, but she understood changing, and they had both assured her that they would change back whenever she wanted them to.

The dog and the wolf howled a bit, their muzzles together, cheeks touching. Gwynneth  understood their meaning, which had to do with happines, and love, and comradeship. They all ran around the perimeter of the island, up and over the black rocks, and around the lighthouse, playing, calling to each other, laughing.

Once, for a moment during their play, Remus changed back into a human and caught Andie in his arms. Gwynneth watched carefully as he placed fingertips just under her chin and lifted her face to his. His other arm drew her close to him as he kissed her, long and tenderly. They laughed, softly, a little laugh just for the two of them, and then he transformed again. They noticed her and included her in their laughter. She smiled and ran after them, around the base of the lighthouse.

They all went back inside, eventually, and Alice made cocoa. “It’s a shame Harry couldn’t be with us this time,” Sirius said, as they flopped in the huge armchairs. “I need to write to him. It’s been an eventful week.” He looked over at Gwen, seated next to Alice, sipping her cocoa. “Harry’s a boy I care for,” he said to her. “My godson. His parents are dead, and I look after him. He’s at school now, but he was with us all summer. I miss him. He’s important to us, to Andie and Remus and me.”

“At school?”

“In a place with other children. With people who teach him things, as Alice and I are teaching you.”

“Why don’t you teach him?”

“Well, I do, when he’s with me. But humans send their children to school so they can learn from other people, too.”

“Will you send me away, for other people to teach me?”

“No, never. We’ll take you to see other people sometimes, or bring them here, but we’ll never send you away.”

Gwen was satisfied. The others talked happily to each other, and sometimes to her; she listened and sometimes talked, and put meaning to much of what was said. The Pack and Alice seemed to know many other humans, and refer to them by name; Gwynneth wondered where these other humans were. She imagined other humans, sitting together as her people were doing, talking about still other humans, in an endless network.

                                  *******************************

When Remus and Andie left the following afternoon, Sirius took out quill and parchment and made good his promise to write. Gwen watched carefully.

“What are you doing?”

“Writing a letter to Harry. I can tell him things by writing the words down on paper. This mark says ‘Harry;’ that’s his name. He’ll look at this paper and read my words. It’s like talking to him. I’m telling him all about finding you, and about the full moon last night. You can learn to write; Alice and I can show you.”

“What words would I write to Harry?” She laughed at him. “I don’t know Harry.” A thought occurred to her. “Does writing work for anyone? Can I write to Andie? Perhaps I will learn this skill.”  She filled the kettle and sat down beside him. “May I use your wand? I want to heat the water this time.”

“Well, you can try; I don’t know if it’ll work. Here.”

She pointed the wand at the kettle. “What do I do?”

“Think of hot water; make the idea go through the wand to the kettle.” He’d been wondering if she had magical powers; this would be a way to find out.

After a few seconds, a wisp of steam issued from the spout. Gwynneth nodded with complacent approval; this was the way it was supposed to work.

Sirius, suddenly realising he’d been holding his breath, exhaled and grinned with delight. She’d done it. She was magic—a witch. He could teach her—he could show her—the possibilities were endless!