A Sea Change

Chapter 9:

Sunday, 8 October.

Sirius awoke naked and shivering, to the sound of Nigel’s shop cat on the pillow next to his head, purring contentedly in his ear. The blankets seemed to have disappeared. No, there they were: all cocooned around Gwen, who was not even visible under them all. He spotted a corner and gave it an experimental tug, with no result except that the pile of blankets gave a small, sleepy growl. He sighed, grinned ruefully, and decided not to fight for them.

They’d done enough of that, all day yesterday and into last night—not fighting exactly, but near enough. She was still determined to go off and learn defence and detection. The news that Moody wanted to see them had rekindled the ever-so-careful debate on the subject. Gwen, of course, was going to do what she wanted, and he would go too, if Moody would have him.

Not that he minded, for himself; it would be great, working for Moody again. He wondered about the whole unofficial aspect of things, though. Moody was no longer an Auror; at least, Sirius didn’t think he was. So who was Moody working for—Dumbledore?

He swung his feet over the side of the bed, yawned and stretched with all the abandon of someone who knows he isn’t being watched, and dressed quickly. He shelved the questions of the day before; it was too much to think about, first thing in the morning. He could hear footsteps from upstairs. Perhaps the shower would be free, or failing that, someone would give him tea.

The cat yawned and stretched as only cats can, putting Sirius’s efforts to shame, and climbed to the top of Gwen’s pile of blankets. It settled down, tucking its paws under, and resumed purring.

Sirius shut the door quietly behind him and made for the stairs.

Laughter, another voice besides Nigel’s and Maria’s. Remus! Tonight would be the full moon; he had planned to take Gwen over to Folberg on the bike today. Why was Remus here? He opened the door to the flat, walked down the hall to the kitchen where all was warm, bright, and smelling of bacon and toast.

Three faces looked up and smiled, glad to see him, welcoming. It never failed to affect him. He smiled back, casually, as if being welcomed by loving friends and family were something he accepted as a matter of course.

Remus, cheerful and at ease in well-worn jeans and sweatshirt, offered him a cup and the teapot filled it. “Good morning, Pads; hope you don’t mind a change of plans. Andie wants me out of the way just now. She sends her love, and she may be over at nightfall, but just now she has her hands full. She and Kjersti are making cheese, and it has to be watched, and stirred, and sung to, or something. Serious business, cheese-making; I never realised.  Kjersti’s mother came up to help.

“I decided to come early, and catch you before you came over. Nigel and Maria say we  can sleep in Tamsin’s old room.” He helped himself to the last two pieces of bacon from the plate Maria held out, smiling his thanks. “Where is Gwen, still asleep?”

“Asleep and hogging every shred of cover. You’d think she wouldn’t mind the cold, having lived in the North Sea all her life, but….” Sirius shook his head, grinning, as he snitched a piece of Remus’s bacon. He beckoned to the milk jug, which floated over; he picked it out of the air and added some to his tea.

“Have you heard what she wants to do? Gwen, I mean. She’s soaked up city life as she does anything else: total immersion, able to give you chapter and verse all correct, with that extra bit of weirdness that’s pure Gwen, added to it all. She’s cottoned onto the fact that people have jobs…. So she’s decided she needs a job, never mind that she’s barely fluent in everyday life.”

Sirius paced around the kitchen, scavenging, turning his attention to the frying pan still on the stove. He lit the fire, placed a few more slices of bacon in the pan, and when it was sizzling, cracked eggs into it.

“And then, I had to tell her all about the whole prison thing; she'd heard too much from Tam and others. She listened very attentively, and announced that she was going to become an Auror, and hunt down Peter! She made me write to Moody, asking him to train her. She says she’s a good hunter. The whole idea scares me rigid.”

 He sliced mushrooms and a tomato, added them to the pan, and stood poking them with a fork as they cooked. He tipped the whole lot onto a plate and joined the others at the table. “I think Moody’s thrilled about it; we’re meeting him next Saturday to talk it over. Of course I’ll be with her. I tried everything I knew to talk her into waiting, but she still doesn’t understand patience.”

Nigel tried to hide a grin behind his cup. “This has to be some kind of karmic retribution: I never thought I’d hear my son call anyone impatient!" He gestured at Sirius, who rolled his eyes, grinned at his father and kept eating. "You're looking at the lad who demanded one year that we move Christmas; it was only October, but he wanted it NOW, and didn't understand why we couldn't just pull off the intervening pages of the calendar, and have Christmas THAT DAY." He and Maria burst out laughing, and Remus joined in.

"You forgot to mention that I was—what, six or seven? Andie was just a baby, and—oh, look, Nigel, you've got an owl." Sirius waved a hand at the window; it opened and a slim barn owl hopped onto the table. It marched over to Sirius and held out its leg.

"Or, I've got an owl. Here, pal, have some bacon." He unrolled the letter and read it intently, biting his lip, giving a running explanation as he read.

"It's from Dumbledore. He's writing on behalf of a French family, DelaRose. Acquaintances of Moony's Uncle Paul. They have a daughter, Jeanette, who's a werewolf, bitten about a year and a half ago, and they want to try your Wolfsbane spell. It sounds like a perfect test case: the daughter's about sixteen, the parents are pretty competent wizards, and the mother... the mother's an Animagus! They want me to teach them what to do. They've been making the potion, so they're familiar with that."

As he read, Sirius  tapped his fingertips silently on the table, and  his expression became more thoughtful and remote. At school, Remus had learned to ready himself for war when Sirius got that look. He and Nigel exchanged glances, and resigned smiles.

"I'll bet I could teach them," Sirius murmured softly. "It's their daughter, so they love her; that part's OK. The mother will have to start transforming every month with the girl, so the wolf will learn to trust her. They can learn the Calling spells, if they don't already know them, and when they think they're ready, I can go down and help. And Moony, if you'll come; I can't speak French beyond a few words. I wonder what sort of animal the mother becomes; whatever it is, it will have to do."

He looked over at Remus. "Moony, there are quills and parchment just over on that desk; can you write down what I just said, in French? Calling spells, the old long ones; transform with the girl, gain the wolf's trust, write when they think they're ready, say two or three months at least, and then we can come down and help with the spell. You'll come, won't you? I think we'll need a bigger owl; this little chap won't be able to go all the way to the south of France-- what are you laughing at?"

"I was just thinking what a trial it must be to you, that Gwen's so impatient." He stood up, still laughing, and found quill and parchment. "What's the name...DelaRose? I’ll write your letter. You dictate.”

When Gwen came up into the kitchen, Sirius left the remainder of the letter’s composition to Remus, while he cooked her breakfast.

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The rest of the day was spent at the seashore, after a drive in Maria’s car to a rocky, windswept area near an ancient hill fort. Gwen scanned the water for seals, but found none. She recognised the birds in the air and far out on the water, remembering or asking their names as she spotted different species. The sun was bright, but there was a definite chill in the air. Maria and Nigel walked hand in hand along the waterside for a while, finally moving back from the water and sitting down together near a small stand of trees, away from the wind.

Remus and Sirius showed Gwen how to skip rocks across the water. She gave Remus a lively account of her story sessions with Tam and the Armstrong girls, and together they sang her steadily growing repertoire of the little songs the girls had taught her. They investigated the tidepools, trying to remember the names of all the little creatures for Gwen’s benefit.

Since they were the only group there, Gwen took Sirius’s wand—it worked remarkably well for her, and he seldom used it—and tried some simple Repelling spells while Sirius threw pebbles at her. She stopped every one, even when Remus joined in the game, and they both threw pebbles at once.

At lunchtime, they spread a blanket on the ground on the leeside of the hill fort and ate their sandwiches with hot tea from a couple of flasks.

On the way home, they found a little country shop that happened to be open, even though it was Sunday. They piled out of Maria’s car and bought chocolate bars, apples, fizzy drinks and a huge, thick Muggle newspaper.  The rest of the way home, in the car, Sirius showed Gwen how to make paper hats.

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At nightfall, when Andie finally arrived, everyone was tired, sleepy, and content to sit around Nigel’s and Maria’s cosy sitting room drinking hot chocolate, laughing and talking lazily about the day’s doings. Maria patted Remus on the shoulder in a maternal way as she moved from the kitchen to her seat beside Nigel; Sirius pestered Andie for details about cheese-making charms. Nigel listened bemusedly as Gwynneth told him about some of the tide-pool creatures, trying to identify them from her description.

The Pack were all together, (except for Harry, Sirius thought to himself) and that was enough. He felt safe, confident in the magical protection such friendship and love provided him. And Harry. He wondered if it would hold—or if it would be enough, when they had Voldemort to deal with. He vowed to discuss the matter with Moody when they met.