A Sea Change

Chapter 5:

The total, singleminded focus Gwynneth had used in her former life as a hunter made her spellwork quite effective. She learned simple household spells and charms almost without trying. She learned numbers and letters. She found out about weeks, along with days, months, and years, and struggled to fix meaning to these things.

 Alice and Sirius began telling her stories: stories about themselves and their way of life. She learned about humans, and what they were, and what they would do—there were many different kinds of humans, they said. Most humans were friendly and helpful to strangers, but there were some humans who were dangerous. There were some who hunted other humans. There were humans who hunted Sirius. She agreed not to speak to other humans until Alice or Sirius approved them. They would protect her, they said.

Gwynneth didn’t say so, but she knew she would protect them in turn. She was quite capable of chasing and killing, if the occasion warranted. She was a hunter. Protectiveness was a concept she remembered too, from her times as a mother.

Alice continued her rounds of the islands and the mainland shore, sometimes with Sirius and Gwen, sometimes alone, after fierce unspoken admonishments to Sirius. At these times, he and Gwen walked along the edge of the island, watching the seals and the birds. They talked about the seals, of Gwen’s life with them; she found it difficult to put many of her memories into words.

They talked about hundreds of things.

Once, he took her for a ride through the air on his motorbike; she was excited by this, alarmed by the noise but not by the flying. She saw that Sirius loved the flying, and the speed. She enjoyed putting her arms around him as they flew.

One afternoon, they sat together on the rocky shore, watching two seals swimming purposefully, some distance from each other, but coming closer and closer together, until they met at the shore of a nearby island. ‘It’s Time, for them,” Gwen murmured. She sighed in frustration. 

As they sat quietly, protected from the cold spray by the Impervius charm he’d taught her, Sirius asked her if she’d like to ride on the motorbike to a city, to meet some friends—more humans. “I’d like to take you to meet my father,” he said. “And I have friends in Edinburgh; maybe we could do that one day.” He laughed softly, looking down at her. “It should be an interesting trip, in many ways.”

Her mind still on the pair of seals, Gwen remembered the little laugh shared by Remus and Andie, the night of the full moon. She thought about the way they had brought their mouths together; the way his fingers had stroked her face… mates, husbands, lovers. Gwen lifted her hand to Sirius’s chin, stroking gently with her fingertips, as Remus had done to Andie.

At his swift, indrawn breath and his closed eyes, she knew that her gesture had affected him, knew this was part of what she was looking for. But he did not bring his mouth down to hers; he bit his lip, then took her hand, gently, in his, and lowered it to her own lap. He released her hand and put an arm across her shoulders. It was a heavier gesture, but she recognised it as a retreat. Perhaps because it was daylight….

Alice, coming home from her rounds, still a fair distance away, sighting with her wand, also recognised the little exchange as a retreat, and nodded to herself. The lad was trying to be fair, she knew. If half what she’d heard about his past was true, this was costing him something.

Gwynneth waited, not counting the days; she had so far only counted buttons and spoons. But it had been a long time; she decided not to wait much longer for Andie to visit. The sound of the birds and the smell of the air were right; the sea was right. Sirius smelled right, and she knew he wanted her. Couldn’t the other humans tell that everything was saying, “It’s Time”?

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

The latch on the door clicked.

Sirius had learned to feign sleep last summer at the Hut with Remus, had learned to lie still and wait out the nightmares and memories left over from his years in prison. Most of them began with the dreadful feeling of coldness and despair, sometimes accompanied by sounds of screaming or sobbing from cells nearby. Sometimes the sobs came from him, as his mind went over all the tragic losses, the missed chances, the stupid decisions. He never slept very soundly; the dreams appeared too often.

The dreams, however, had never begun with the click of a latch; he opened his eyes. He could hear faint movement: someone was approaching his bed. He heard the swish of fabric, the gentle 'flop' of cloth falling to the floor.

Fingertips on his face, stroking. Lifting his chin, gently. Lips brushing his in a tentative kiss. The cover pulled back; a weight on the bed. Someone-- oh, lord--

"Gwynneth?  Gwen?" The nearness of her; the warmth of her breath on his lips....

"Sirius. I choose you."

"Gwen, love, you don't know--" Her skin was so soft against his; her hand glided slowly down his throat to his chest and rested there, so light, barely touching.

"I do know. Andie says we do this at night, in our beds. Together for always. You want me."

He fought to hold onto a thread of prudence, of sanity. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, but this only complicated things. The scent of her was intoxicating: the compelling scent of a woman, combined with something exotic, something unique to Gwynneth, something that brought Padfoot, inside him, to full attention.  "Gwen, yes. I want you. But there's so much you need to know... so many things I need to tell you...."

"Andie says people don't talk about this."  There was a faint note of reproach in her voice.

Sirius gave in. He grinned in spite of himself, acknowledging defeat-- or victory. He wanted this; he desperately wanted this. Alice would have his guts for garters in the morning; he’d fight that battle, not this one.

He raised himself onto one elbow and drew her to him, softly kissing her eyelids, her cheek, her throat, the little hollow at the base of her throat. All thought left him except for an intense awareness of her: of her softness, her warmth, her scent, and of her hands, touching him, exploring.

"Does she now.... What else does Andie say?"

"She says we like to be near other people in the day, but at night, just one. Privacy. She says...."

There was a slight hesitation in her voice, and a sudden gasp as he slid his hand slowly across one breast and kissed her,  there. She put both her arms round his waist and pulled him closer.

She needed very little teaching.

Eventually, they drifted off to sleep, cradled in each other's arms, her head under his chin.

Sirius slept dreamlessly, soundly, for the first time in fourteen years.

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

They came down late the next morning, together, Sirius poised for combat, Gwen serenely at ease. Alice nodded a perfunctory good morning to them, but her attention was on another person in the kitchen: Alice had a guest. She was laughing, pouring him coffee, pulling hot scones from the oven.

“Ee, lass, I shouldn’t have stayed away so long; it does me good to see you. Here, though, I didn’t know you had lodgers.” The newcomer turned to Gwen and Sirius.

His long, grey hair hung unevenly around his grotesquely scarred face; his long legs were stretched out in front of him. One leg was obviously wooden; it ended in carved claws grasping a round ball. He was dressed in black; his ancient travelling cloak lay across a chair next to him, a worn leather rucksack at his feet.  Sirius grinned happily and took a step forward, but checked himself, remembering: Moody didn’t shake hands.

Gwynneth, noting the hesitation, quietly moved in front of Sirius. The strange human seemed friendly, and Alice seemed to like him, but there was an air of danger about him, and he did look menacing. She thought if he attacked, she could get in a good bite or two....

 

“Black? It is you, lad, isn’t it? You look as fit as ever. If anyone could survive Azkaban, it’d be you. Alice, you’re harbouring a fugitive; you could be in big trouble just now, if I didn’t owe this lad a favour.” The stranger grinned, making his disfigured face even more alarming. “Laddie, did you know there’s a whole division devoted to you in Aurors’ headquarters? The higher-ups in the Ministry want to make an example of you in the worst way: they need some positive press. They want your head.”

The stranger’s eyes, one narrowed and black, one blue and constantly moving, took in Gwynneth and her quiet alertness. He understood, but didn’t comment. He turned back to Sirius.

“Fortunately, young Shacklebolt’s in charge of the operation, and he doesn’t mind letting himself look foolish. Last time I checked, he was concentrating on America and the Balkans. He has ten or fifteen agents abroad just now, reporting all sorts of promising leads to your whereabouts.” The menacing grin grew even wider. “He gets his best information from Dumbledore, but the Ministry don’t know that….”

He reached down and picked up his rucksack. “But I’m not here to look for you. I’m here to….” He reached into the rucksack, pulled out a rolled-up piece of parchment and handed it to Sirius. “Now that I see you here, the writing does look familiar; I should have recognised it.” He turned to Gwen, then, and gave her his full attention. “You’ll be the Selkie, I expect. You’re not nearly as interesting to the Ministry as your boyfriend here, but as a new magical creature, they want you found and registered.”

Sirius looked up from the parchment, his eyes flashing, face pale with indignation. “I wrote this letter to Harry, a couple of weeks ago. What’s this Ministry stamp doing on it?

“Aye, laddie, you’ve a right to be upset; there’s quite a bit to be upset about just now. The Ministry have ‘lost faith’ in Dumbledore, and planted a teacher in the school to keep an eye on the goings-on there. Harry’s suspect, mostly because of the poor impression he made on Fudge last spring; his owls are being watched. You had the sense not to use any names when you wrote, but the mention of a Selkie was enough to cause a small investigation: me.

“That Ministry teacher questioned Harry, but the lad claimed he couldn’t recognise the writing, and didn’t know anything about the letter, or who would be writing to him about a Selkie. I was there. He’s good, isn’t he? Auror material, maybe. She couldn’t shake him. Dumbledore suggested I work my way around the coast to see if I could turn up any news about a Selkie—too bad I haven’t found anything.” His eyes, both of them, settled on Sirius and Gwen standing before him; he grinned at them and turned back to the table.

“Alice, I could use another one of those scones. You always did have a way with baking. Pity you never did take me up on that offer.”

Sirius, momentarily distracted from his righteous anger over the letter, blinked at them. A memory surfaced: the day he’d been asked by Dumbledore to search Moody’s house. He’d found the rucksack, looked at the contents—there’d been a photo of a woman, a sharp-faced, dark-haired young woman. He pictured that photo in his mind; it seemed to him that maybe, in her youth, Alice….

He grinned, pulled out a chair for Gwen, and sat down beside her. “Oh? What offer was that?”

Alice raised an eyebrow at him. “Not that it’s any of your business, but Moody once asked me to marry him. He was young and stupid; I think we were about seventeen. I wasn’t about to marry anyone; I was more interested in getting higher N.E.W.T.s than him. There were only so many slots for Auror’s training, back then. Still, we had a lot in common. I’ve always been a bit soft on him, the old walrus.”

Moody buttered his scone and grinned fiercely at her. “Aye, it would have been a disaster; we’d never have been able to stand each other.”

Gwen nodded wisely; that was what Andie had said. Alice didn’t want a mate. It appeared that Moody didn’t either; that fit too. ‘Lots of people are like that,’ she’d said.

Sirius was handing her a cup of tea; she looked up at him and he smiled very gently at her. She smiled back, suddenly overpoweringly happy.

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

As the morning progressed, it was decided that Sirius and Gwen should leave the lighthouse. Anyone coming to doublecheck Moody’s work (a real possibility, because he was known to be allied with Dumbledore) would undoubtedly be by to visit Alice, since the coast was her province, and there was really no place to hide here, except in plain sight.

Gwynneth listened to the plans and watched her people, attaching meaning to nearly all of what was said. She and Sirius must leave the sea. He was being hunted. She was supposed to ‘register,’ which was insulting but not dangerous. But registering meant her whereabouts would be known and watched, and that would mean danger for Sirius, because Sirius would be with her. They would be looking for her around the coast… so she and Sirius must leave the sea. She had never anticipated leaving the sea. She said nothing, but listened and wondered.

Sirius would be with her. He would show her people and places she couldn’t imagine. She was curious….

“I will go.” The others looked up in surprise as she spoke for the first time. “I like this place, but I do not want the hunters to find Sirius. Alice is my friend, but she does not like to be with other people all the time. Sirius will know where we can go, and I will stay with him. Always.” She took a scone, broke it delicately with her clever fingers, and buttered the pieces with Alice’s knife.

Sirius looked across the table at Alice, who gave him a nod and looked back calmly. He wondered if the battle had been called off or only postponed.

“How long have you been on land, lassie?” asked Moody, his gruff voice attempting gentleness, modulating into a throaty growl.

“Weeks. More than two.”

“And you know, already, that you want to stay with Sirius forever? New ideas, for a Selkie. Even humans born on land have trouble with ‘forever.’”

“‘Forever’ just means not leaving him, isn’t that right? Sirius wants me with him.”

Moody cocked an eyebrow at Sirius. “So that’s how it is? Well, laddie, I wish you both luck. I’ve never heard of these things lasting, but you two could be the first. Do you have any ideas where you can take a transformed seal and remain inconspicuous?”

Sirius nodded. “I do; I’ve been thinking for a few days that I should be moving—that we should. I need to stay fairly close to Hogwarts, though, because of Harry. I wish there was some way to talk to him. Maybe I should go see Dumbledore…. Anyway, yes; I do have a place in mind. There’ll be people I trust; people who can help Gwen get used to things.”

Moody opened his rucksack again. “Don’t know why I brought these with me; maybe it was a premonition. Here; take one of these.”

They were shallow brass bowls, slightly larger than teacups, with a pattern of vines and blossoms scratched crudely around the inside, and flat, thumb-sized handles. Sirius had seen objects like them in Muggle charity shops.

“I picked these up in India; they come in handy every now and then. You take one and I’ll give the other one to Harry. Better than owls, in times like these. You write a letter, put it in the cup, and set light to it. It re-forms in the other cup. Watch.”

He placed both bowls on the table, put a scrap of paper from his notebook into one, took out his wand and set it on fire. The paper was quickly consumed, but instead of lying in the bowl, the ashes sank through the bottom of the brass. Instantly, a whole, unburned scrap of paper appeared in the second bowl.

“Just as a precaution, let Harry write the first letter. You’ll know by his handwriting that I haven’t tricked you.”

 Sirius opened his mouth to protest, but again checked himself. He grinned and said, “Right: trust nobody. It’s good to see you again, Moody. And thanks for this. How much do I owe you? I do have money.”

“I owe you, remember? Keep it. Besides,” Moody said, grinning, “I may want your help soon. There are ways you could be making yourself useful.”

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

It wasn’t a battle so much as an interrogation. The questions, from both Alice and Moody, were all variations on “Do you know what you’re getting into?” and the answers, from Sirius and Gwynneth, were variations on “No, but we don’t care.” It was clear that Alice, especially, had her doubts about the sanity of both of them. Moody, on the other hand, seemed intrigued with the idea of training a non-human Auror; her animal senses and reactions could come in handy, he said, in certain situations.

Sirius felt his patience slipping away. It was never wise, he knew, to lose patience, dealing with Moody. He took a deep breath, mentally took hold of his temper. “I’m not sure she’s ready to be trained for anything just yet, besides fitting into the human world. Look, you’re both right; we could hurt each other, but I don’t think we will. So could any two people who decide to stay together. We’ll be fine. In fact, I’m probably the best person she could possibly stay with; I’ll understand, because of Padfoot.” He paused and turned to Moody. “Or do you know about Padfoot?”

“I learned that little detail from Albus, this summer. It explains a lot. I always said you were the best I ever trained.” He rose and slapped Sirius on the back. “We’ll have need of you, and your little Gwen, if she decides to stay amongst us. You didn’t see how she was looking at me, when you first came down. I could teach her…or maybe you could.”

He gave a loud, startling bark of laughter and said,  “Well, off to report that Alice hasn’t seen anything unusual on her rounds, then to work down the west coast of Scotland. Then maybe Ireland…. Look for a note from Harry in the next day or two. And an owl from me, as soon as I get away from Hogwarts again.” Then, to everyone’s astonishment, he gave Alice a peck on the cheek before Disapparating.

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

“Gwen, love, wait for me for an hour or two; I’m going to find us a place to stay. If you go with Alice today, in the boat, I’ll be back when you get home.” She nodded her agreement, and he kissed her, tenderly, properly, as she knew kissing was supposed to be done.

He went to Nigel’s, Apparating into his old room in back of the shop. Sirius peered through the nearly-closed door; there was nobody in the shop except his father. Nigel looked up as Sirius entered the public part of the shop, and greeted him with a huge smile.

“Would you mind if I came here for a while, with a friend? She can stay in the back room with me. We’d be glad to help out, if you need us.”

“You can stay any time, you know that. The way things are going, I could use the help.  And a friend? ‘She’? Well done. Don’t know how you manage it, in hiding….”

“It’s a long story; I’ve been afraid to tell you. Because…well, let’s wait till you meet her, then you’ll probably understand. She’s great, you’ll see…and she loves me, even if she doesn’t know it yet. I need to go down to Pete’s, and see if he’ll let me put the motorbike in his back garden. We’ll be back soon; maybe tonight.”

He felt like a coward.

The Armstrongs who remained at home were delighted to see him, especially the little girls. They were adapting very well to the addition of magic into their household.  Liz agreed to his storing a large, magical motorcycle in her well-tended back garden, on the condition that it would not drip oil or destroy any of her flowerbeds. Jimmy and Pete were on the road somewhere in Spain, he was told, keeping in touch by telephone, and owl.

Eventually, Sirius was able to get away, promising to return in the evening with Gwen and the motorbike.

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

When he arrived on Longstone shore, he met Gwen, walking down from the lighthouse toward him. She made to walk past him when he caught her arm.  She gave him a look he could not interpret, and then he realised what she was carrying.

It was bulky and soft; folded, furry—a pale grey, mottled with small splotches of darker grey.

Her seal-skin.

And she was smiling.

“Gwen, what are you doing?” He searched her face, fighting down the clutch of fear.

“I’m throwing it in the sea. Alice thinks I will need to go back to the water. Moody thinks I do not know how to be a human. You think I may leave, but you want me to stay. If I throw this away, you’ll know that I will stay with you. You’ll be happy.” She moved away from him, toward the sea.

“Gwen—” His relief was enormous. He drew a long breath and smiled back at her, through a sudden mist of tears. Things were so simple to her; she wanted him to be happy! She had no thought for the future. He would have to think ahead for her, even in this.

“Gwen, I’m happy now. Of course I hope you’ll stay with me. But I don’t want… I could never let you be a prisoner. I want you to stay because you want to. If you throw this away, you’ll have to stay. There might be a reason for you to go into the sea, some time. Stay with me, please. But keep this.”

He put his hands on her shoulders, drawing her gently to him.

She reached up and kissed his cheek, now wet with tears, then leaned her head contentedly against his shoulder. “You taste like the sea.”

They went inside, to say good bye to Alice and collect their things.