A Sea Change

Chapter 17:

Little Hangleton, 4 January:

“We’ll walk from here.” Moody absently brushed off his cloak, as if Apparating had been a dusty business. “The High Street is just up there. Keep your hoods up.” Harry and Gwen didn’t need to be told this; the wind was sharp and cold. The three of them walked quietly through the blowing snow until they reached the Little Hangleton High Street, with its dispirited-looking handful of shops.

“This is where I leave you,” he said gruffly. “I’ll get the wheels. And you two could use a bit of camouflage….” He took out his wand and transformed their cloaks into worn, grubby ski jackets and knitted caps. Harry shivered involuntarily at the sudden blast of wind on his bluejeaned legs.

“All set?”

They nodded. This was what they’d been practicing for. Harry chewed his lip until Gwen glanced at him and grinned with anticipation; then he grinned back. He suddenly felt elated.  Auror business; he was an Auror, as good as….

“Let’s catch a rat.”

Together, they strolled along the High Street, taking their time, holding hands, looking like a teenager and his girl out for a stroll. There were very few people about; none looked up or spoke. It was not a friendly town.

“Let’s try the grocer’s first.”

They went inside; they were the only customers.

“I’ll buy something; you go out and watch.”

Two oranges purchased; out again quickly. Nobody on the street. A charity shop next; they looked in the window. Nobody inside. They strolled on, Harry suddenly acutely aware that going out for a stroll on such a raw, grey day was a pretty insane thing to do. They would certainly look suspicious, even holding hands. If there’d been anyone to see.

Suddenly, a small, shambling figure in a flapping grey overcoat emerged from the bakery just ahead of them, turned away and hurried mincingly down the street, carrying a shopping bag.

“Is that him?”

“I think so, but we have to be sure. Maybe he’ll go into…. Cool; he’s going to buy something else. A chemist’s—who knows what they want from there…. I’ll go to the other side; you stay over here. When he comes out, I’ll nod if it’s him.”

It seemed an eternity, but it couldn’t have been more than ten minutes. Finally the little man opened the door of the chemists’ shop and turned, abruptly finding himself nose to nose with Harry. For an endless split second, the little man stared, horror and recognition starting in his eyes at the same time. Then, against all logic, he charged!

Harry stumbled backwards just as Pettigrew shoved him hard in the shoulder, sending him the rest of the way to the pavement. He dropped his wand and cracked his head, hard, on the concrete walk, but yelled at Gwen, who was ready. Automatically, she Conjured the binding ropes one used on a fleeing subject, tripped Pettigrew and threw him to the ground, his arms and legs entangled.

“Gwen—he’ll transform!” Harry moved faster than he ever had before: he flipped over on his stomach, grabbed his wand, and sighted along the ground at what was now a small, scampering rat, hopping frantically over the loops of rope. Gwen saw, and responded just as quickly.

“Stupefy!”  

The two spells hit Pettigrew simultaneously; he seemed to be jerked forcibly into his shabby, scrambling human form as he pitched forward on his face. Anyone watching would have taken the shouts to be cries of alarm; nobody had touched him, after all.  Gwen pointed her wand skyward and shot off sparks; there was nobody on the street to see.

Time for the smokescreen: Harry jumped to his feet in a single motion,  ran into the chemists’ shop and shouted, “I need to use your phone; that man’s collapsed on the pavement, just outside!” He grabbed the phone from the clerk’s reluctant hands, pressed the disconnect button surreptitiously, and then pretended a quick ‘999’ call. He yelled at the clerk, demanding the shop’s address, then quickly hung up and raced back outside.

Moody was just rounding the corner, in an ambulance.

The clerk ran to the window, avidly watching as they strapped the little man to the stretcher, hustled him into the vehicle and sped away; it never occurred to him to wonder why the two passers-by climbed into the ambulance too. Or perhaps he thought they were relatives.

It was almost too easy, Harry thought, as the ambulance sped away.

“Are we taking him to Dumbledore?” Gwen asked.

Moody grunted in reply, but didn’t take his eyes off the road. “No, we don’t want to give anyone the chance to say it’s a trick. We’re going to Auror headquarters, to a rat-proof cell, and then Shacklebolt or somebody can send the necessary owls to the Ministry and Dumbledore. That way it’s nice and neutral—and nobody can get to our friend here before anybody else.”

He grinned, a ferocious, gleeful grin. “This is just the beginning of the fun; we’ll be seeing some interesting activity around Little Hangleton now, I’ll bet.”

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

The Camargue, 5 January

As they had done nearly a year and a half ago, Cécile and Paul had gone to their ship, for an overnight cruise. The kitchen, and the rest of the house, was theirs. Together, in the early morning, Sirius, Remus, Danilo and Jeanette set out the cauldron and arranged the ingredients in order on the kitchen table. Danilo’s hands shook slightly as he laid his notes on the table beside the cauldron. Bina, sensing the tension in her humans, watched intently, looking from Jeanette’s face to Danilo’s, ready for whatever they were up to.

“Do you mind if I watch for a bit?” Remus cast an eye briefly over the array of ingredients on the table. His status as a former, or ‘cured’ werewolf, fascinated Jeanette. She had watched Remus constantly, hungrily, and peppered him with questions for the past couple of days, until Danilo grew a bit possessive, and took to sitting close to her whenever Remus was around.  

“Hmm? Oh, watch? I don’t mind. I don’t think I’ll be able to answer questions, though; the spell sort of takes over….” The spell, and what he needed to do, were already uppermost in his mind.

Sirius had always been good with Calling spells, and with mental images. The memory he chose to begin Jeanette’s spell with was the way he’d first seen her, that first meeting they’d had, at her parents’ house. The look in her eyes had been devastating: pain, resignation, defiance—fully aware of the dreadful thing that had happened to her, and knowing what an unspeakable future would be hers—but there had been no fear. She would endure what she had to.

Sirius closed his eyes and remembered. He took a deep breath as he felt the magic beginning, and put his hands into the cauldron. Remus nodded to Danilo, and the boy, checking the list for what must have been the hundredth time, lifted the first bowlful of ingredients and stirred them with his own fingers before handing them to Sirius.

As Sirius crushed the dried herbs, Danilo watched intently. When the bits had been reduced nearly to powder, the boy reached for the flask containing the first liquid. He glanced at Remus, then with a slight hesitation, poured the contents into the cauldron over Sirius’s hands.

Sirius kept stirring the mixture; Danilo nodded to himself and carefully measured out the next thing on the list.

Jeanette, waiting in the sitting room with Bina curled on the sofa at her side, pretended to read.

An hour into the spell, Remus left the kitchen and came to her; she laid aside the book with a grateful sigh.  “Did you know, when he did this for you, that you would be healed?”

“No; in fact, I rather doubted it. I knew it wouldn’t hurt me, but I was not hopeful. All the same, the wait was nearly unbearable. Are you finding it so?”

Jeanette shivered and nodded, hugging herself. “I can do nothing but wonder—I do have a little hope. There is so much I want… and Danilo is helping. Is it true that his feeling for me can be used in this spell? Sirius says that is what he thinks, but my parents tell me he is mad. Danilo is a Muggle, and….”

Remus shook his head. “Sirius has been called mad by many people—but if it can be done, he will do it. He isn’t mad.” He smiled gently. “I think you are right to hope. You know, the Wolf within you is aware of you, and your thoughts. The potion they are preparing is a way of talking to the Wolf. I’m sure Sirius told you something of this. If possible, you should try to understand the Wolf, and not hate it.”

“I do not hate the Wolf. Sometimes, when I am very angry, I think of the things I could do at the full moon—people I could bite, and kill. I am afraid of those thoughts, but I have them. I hope that I would not use the Wolf in that way; I don’t want it to get in trouble.” She watched Remus’s face carefully, wondering. “Do you have thoughts like those?”

He sighed, thinking of his own Wolf. “I used to. It isn’t fair, is it? And people can be cruel—more cruel than any wild animal. You are right, though; the Wolf is not in you by choice. Have you given your Wolf a name? My friends called me Moony, when we were young; we use that name now for the Wolf.”

She looked down, reaching over to fondle Bina’s velvety ears. “I have a name for it in my mind. It is also a name for me, when they lock me in my room every month. The Wolf and I, we are The Prisoner.”

She looked up at Remus, suddenly aware, sensitive to what he had been telling her. “There is another name; perhaps friendlier—I think it to myself at times, just before—when it all hurts so much. And after, the next morning, when I can hardly move. I say to the Wolf, never mind, Mignon, we will survive this.”

She put a hand to her cheek, her eyes sad, and seemed to shrink into herself. “When I was very small, when things were not so bad, my father used to cheer me up so, when I was disappointed.”  Her eyes suddenly glistened with unshed tears. “My father did not always hate me: I was his Mignon, his little one. I felt safe then….” She sniffed, and wiped her face on her sleeve.

“Do your parents know we are attempting the spell today?”

“Oh yes, they know. My parents will be here tomorrow. It was as much as Cécile and Paul could do, to keep them away today. They hate it that I am here; that Danilo has been coming here in the evenings to practice making the potion. My mother is incensed that we do this without her in attendance—or rather, in charge. She wishes to be always the director, the authority. It causes her great suffering that she is not the one performing this spell, but she would never work with Danilo, and I would never allow the Wolf—my Mignon—to be subjected to the Dragon’s presence. Bina loves me; she loves me almost as much as she loves Danilo. She will stay with the Wolf and not be afraid.”

Bina wagged her tail at the sound of her name, and nosed under Jeanette’s hand, demanding a pat.

“It’s intolerable, this waiting,” Jeanette grumbled. “Will you come with me for a walk along the shore?”

They walked, for several miles. They came back to the farmhouse and played cards, then chess. Jeanette’s agitation increased as time passed; she could feel the moon. Her whole body ached with the effort of being civilised; she wanted, more and more as the day wore on, to scream. Bina whined and licked her hand as they returned to the sofa in the sitting room.

“Do you think something’s gone wrong? It’s nearly dark….”

And then the kitchen door swung open. Danilo emerged first, carrying a goblet. At the sight of him, she gasped. “You should not be near me, my love,” she whispered. “Go now—”  

He shook his head, defiantly, and handed her the goblet. The liquid was clear, with no odour or taste, and slightly luminous. As she put the goblet to her lips, Sirius appeared, leaning against the doorframe, clearly exhausted, but watching intently. There was a neat bandage on his left arm, just above the wrist.

She finished the potion, held her breath, and stared unseeing at a spot on the carpet as she felt the potion working. “I can hear the Wolf; it is asking to run.”

Sirius spoke with some effort, his voice just above a whisper. “Ask it to wait; ask it to trust you. It can run tomorrow, in the daylight.”

He seemed hardly able to stand; at the sound of his voice Remus stood up in alarm and went to his side. He reached out his hand, ready to support his friend, but Sirius gave him a weak smile and shook his head. Remus hesitated, doubtful.

 “Was it like this the last time?”

“Pretty much. I’m fine; it’s just a long spell. The magic sort of drains out just at the end, with the blood, and it feels a bit empty, after.” He leaned his head back against the doorframe and closed his eyes, but immediately opened them again. He had to stay alert.

“Can we go outside, to see the moon?” Jeanette was standing, frowning slightly.”It feels so strange, but it doesn’t hurt….”

Slowly, the little group moved out the door. Danilo wouldn’t be parted from Jeanette’s side; he clung to her hand, black eyes watchful, and silently dared anyone to tell him to move away. Remus and Sirius both watched nervously, but suddenly Remus was struck with a memory: Andie had refused to leave his side, that night in August….

He felt his own Wolf, content, grinning with him.

Jeanette held her young man’s hand, watched the sky, saw the glorious round moon rising, and let the tears fall from her eyes unheeded.

Sirius, gradually letting down his guard, watched their faces and whistled to Bina, who trotted to him, tail wagging. He smiled, fondled her ears, and watched while Jeanette and her young lover stood quietly, gazing at the moon, and Remus stood gazing at them.

They’d done it.  

He wondered how long he should wait before it would be reasonable to sneak off to bed.

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

They all slept in rather late the next morning; the sun streaming into Remus’s window finally caused him to stir. They’d been up most of the night; Jeanette couldn’t stop staring at the moon, and Danilo couldn’t let go of her hand.

He dressed, crept downstairs and began to make tea, wondering if he should check on Sirius, deciding not to. He’d said he was fine; that all he needed was a good night’s sleep. Remus decided to take him at his word, and rummaged in the cupboards for something to eat. He was still fairly lethargic; nothing elaborate. Bread and honey….

The door to the back garden opened and Danilo came in yawning. He’d slept in the barn, chivalrously refusing to spend a whole night under the same roof as Jeanette. “One must preserve the proprieties,” he’d said.

He nodded to Remus in a satisfied way. Lupin spoke French; he could have a conversation. Black was a very wise, very kind person, and most impressive with his magic, but one could not talk to him. Perhaps one would learn English sometime; it was most pleasing to hear his lovely Jeanette conversing in a foreign tongue….

Coffee was made. Bread was cut, and spread with honey. Lupin was congenial. Jeanette admired him; and truly, he was an admirable man. Somewhat old, understood. And not handsome… Jeanette was, naturally, interested in Lupin as one who had undergone the same misfortunes as herself—and been saved. That was all.

Danilo smiled, then. “We did a great thing last night, did we not?”

“My friend, truly we did. This spell of Sirius’s, what a great discovery, and what a great feat of magic.” He gazed thoughtfully at the gorgeous young man across the table from him. Danilo, with his slim frame, dark good looks, and slow, teasing voice, was certainly enough to turn any young girl’s head—but he had intelligence, irrepressible good humour and courage as well, and he was, Remus was convinced, definitely in love with young Jeanette. He could see why Sirius had decided to go ahead with the spell when he’d met Danilo.

“You do understand, my friend, that Jeanette is still—that the Wolf is not gone. The Wolf is there, in her, and it must be respected, as any powerful animal must. The difference now is that the Wolf is—sane. It will trust and love you, if you allow it. This morning, when she awakens, we will speak to the Wolf. Do you know this?”

“I know it well, my friend. I am ready. I will stay; I will never leave her. Jeanette is different from any girl I’ve ever known.” As soon as he’d said it, just HOW different Jeanette was from other girls dawned on him, and Danilo began to laugh. It began with a polite snicker, and then a splutter. “Beautiful, ma foi, yes, but she is so different.” The tension and strain of yesterday vanished with a suddenness that left him slightly out of control. He wiped his eyes with his napkin and tried to stop laughing, but by then it was no use. Remus began to grin, then to laugh with the boy. They pounded the table; they gasped for breath; they were helpless.

Sirius, and an instant later, Jeanette, appeared at the kitchen door and watched bemusedly.

“Mad, I suspect,” Sirius said gravely, though his lips were twitching. “I’ve known Remus for a long time; he never was quite right. He’s always controlled it manfully, but it seems that he’s definitely slipped a cog now. And taken your Danilo with him, it appears. Terrible shame….”

Jeanette nodded. “Such a tragedy, my life. I am in love with a madman.” She grinned and slipped her arms round Danilo, kissing the top of his head.  

“Who will come down to the beach with me? I want to release the Wolf; I promised her that I would. I need to try this; I can’t eat just yet. When we return, I shall prepare the English breakfast for you. Please?”

They walked down the path to the beach, still laughing, Danilo and Remus sharing the joke with Sirius and Jeanette, hand in hand, arms across shoulders. The wonderful feeling of closeness that ensues when people go through a harrowing experience together showed in their eyes, was heard in their voices. They appeared to be a party of old friends, affectionate and content.

At the water’s edge, all was calm. Birds flew overhead, or ran along the beach on long, spindly legs. Off in the distance a ship lay at anchor, sails furled.

“Paul and Cécile,” Remus said, nodding toward the ship. “They’ll see us and come on in, I expect.” He took a deep breath. “Jeanette, have you talked over this part with Sirius? I’d advise you to be very gentle with your Wolf just now; it’s never seen daylight and will most likely be afraid. I know I was. My Wolf. Try to be reassuring when you release it.”

Jeanette nodded. “We have talked about this, yes.” She grinned. “Sirius told me that the first time your Wolf appeared in the sunlight, he had to chase you for miles. Well, I hope I can do better than that, but just in case, you should know that Bina can run fast as well, and she is a herding dog. She can bring me back; you will have help chasing me.” She took a deep breath and wiped her palms on her jeans, so far her only show of nervousness.

“Danilo, may I have a kiss? For luck?”

He grinned, stepped forward and, putting both his hands carefully on her shoulders, ceremoniously granted this request.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

The question, in French, stopped everyone in their tracks. All turned to look as Jeanette’s parents marched down the path from the house, Mme delaRose teetering a bit as her high heels sank into the sandy ground.

Her husband put a hand on her elbow to steady her but she did not notice; she waved her arms over her head and continued to scream. “What is he still doing here? You should have completed your attempt at healing last night. You knew we would be here; how dare you allow this boy, this Muggle, this Gypsy, to touch my daughter?”

Danilo dropped his hands from Jeanette’s shoulders, but made no other move. He stood calmly beside her and waited for the elder DelaRoses to approach.

Sirius tightened his lips and blew air through his nostrils like an angry bull. “Moony, I don’t care what she said, you needn’t translate. Tell them that we can’t have all this screaming and hysteria just now. Tell them to wait at the house and I’ll talk to them later. Damned old biddy. The last thing we need. I ask you. Jeanette, wait—Jeanette....”

Jeanette stalked across the narrow space between her parents and the little group already there. She spoke quickly, firmly, starting softly and increasing in volume as she continued.  Remus grinned in admiration and in a voice just above a whisper, began to translate.

“She’s saying they’ve lost, even though the spell worked. They no longer have a werewolf for a daughter; they have a daughter who is going to marry a Muggle Gypsy. She knows, she says, that the one is just as much a disgrace as the other, but at least she will be happy. They can tell their friends with the marriageable son anything they like; she won’t be around to contradict them. She says they can go home now; we’re busy.”

Danilo, too was listening with a look of admiration on his face. He stood where he was; Bina nosed her head under his hand and he petted her absently as he listened.

Jeanette’s father held out a hand to her, and said something; Jeanette turned to him and shook her head. She turned away and took a step back, toward Danilo.

“Non!”

There was a shriek, a shimmering in the air around Mme DelaRose, and the Dragon appeared, reared on its hind legs, stretching its huge, pale, translucent wings high over their heads. It surveyed the company as they all stood motionless, then focussed on Danilo and took a step towards him. Bina growled, deep in her throat, her hackles raised all along her back. Tail down, ears flat, she advanced on the dragon.

Then everything happened at once.

Danilo shouted, grabbing Bina by the collar and dragging her backward. The air around Jeanette shimmered, and there in her tracks stood a slender, nearly black, adolescent female wolf, her teeth bared, blocking the dragon’s progress.

The dragon shrieked again and was suddenly airborne, soaring above the two canines, then turning faster than seemed possible, dived downwards at the boy. She had reached out her dreadful claws, ready to grip and inject his body with poison, when she heard the words of the spell and saw the flash from Remus’s wand.

It caught her in mid-dive and threw her down to earth, but did not Stupefy her completely. She charged the boy from the ground, just as something gripped her hind leg with a grip she couldn’t shake loose, and a huge black dog flung itself between her and Danilo. The wicked talons, unable to grip, flailed, and one connected. She raked her claw down, laying open the dog’s face from the top of its head down its right cheek, to the chin.

Suddenly, needle-sharp teeth sank into her throat, the words of the Spell assailed her again, from two voices this time, and she knew no more.

Remus was the first to speak. “She’s still alive, I think. Jeanette? Can you understand me? Can you transform?”

The little wolf cocked her head at him, and then was human. “I wish I’d killed her.” She looked around, at Danilo, staring at her; at Bina, whose grip on the dragon’s hind leg had made her own attack possible; at her father and Remus, wands out, panting. Bina was panting as well; she licked Jeanette’s hand and trotted to Danilo’s side. Jeanette moved as if sleepwalking, towards the boy and the dog. Danilo held out his hands to her, and she gripped them as if to save herself from falling.

“My dearest—my dearest ones. My Pack….” And then she began to cry, as Danilo held her and Bina sat on their feet.

The dragon lay still, fallen in a heap, one wing crumpled under her, the other stretched out like a fine blue veil, covering….

“Sirius? Pads? Oh, Sirius…”

And Remus, suddenly oblivious to the others, hands shaking, pulled the wing aside with both hands and knelt beside the huge black dog. There was blood covering his face; so much blood, oozing stickily everywhere, matting the fur. Remus could see bone in two places through the long gash. Padfoot lay completely, terrifyingly still. How much venom had he taken? How much was needed to kill? How much damage had been done by the talon itself?

He forced himself to swallow the panic he felt, and pulled off his shirt, tearing it, dabbing gently at the slash across the big dog’s face. A voice, a hand on his shoulder. Paul. Apparated from the boat, obviously. He nodded his head, but did not look away from the still form on the ground.

“I said, Cécile and I will take these young people in hand. You must, I see, take care of our incredible friend here. M. DelaRose will take his wife home. We will talk later. Will you bring him to the house? Can you Apparate, carrying him?”

“Paul, thank you.” Remus struggled to respond intelligently.” I—no, I think I’ll take him with me to Folberg. I can carry him there; our Healer is someone I trust, and I—I don’t know how to….” He closed his eyes, hanging onto his calm for another moment. “It went well, you know, the spell. For Jeanette. She is going to be—to be…. Forgive me; I’d better go.” He pulled the massive head up until it was resting against his chest, then, locking his arms around the dog’s ribcage and struggling to his feet, he Disapparated.

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

“There is poison in the wound, yes. I have a book of poisons, let us see if it mentions this French dragon.”  The Healer at Folberg, an elderly little man with a fussily gentle manner and an office overflowing with medical texts, had cleaned the wound and covered it lightly with a thick, brown jellylike substance. Unlike most of the Folberg staff, who called each other by first names, he was known only as ‘Healer.’ Remus was not sure he had ever even heard the Healer’s name.

He watched from Sirius’s bedside as the Healer turned towards his office door and whistled; the book pushed the door open and floated into the old man’s hands.

Sirius had remained in dog form; the Healer had said it would be too much of a shock to his body to forcibly change him to human form, and had proceeded to treat him as he was. He had shaved the hair away from the gash, cleaned off the blood with an especially gentle cleansing spell, probed the area with wand and fingertips, and looked grave.

The dog had not moved. “I believe there may be a paralysing substance involved. We will not close this wound yet; we don’t want to lock anything harmful inside.” And with that, he had applied the brown ointment. He paid no further attention to Remus, who sat  beside the bed with one hand stroking the dark fur, and said nothing. He left the two of them and disappeared into his office with the book “Concernynge Poysonnes” floating behind him. At nightfall he reappeared, and faced Remus, fixing him with mild blue eyes.

“Our friend is warm, and clean, and watched over.  There is nothing in my library that describes the particular venom of the Vosges Veilwing, but I have made enquiries by owl to some of my colleagues. We will have answers in the morning. I will now sit beside this patient, and you will go home to bed.” He stood expectantly, smiling gently, and eventually it dawned on Remus that he was expected to get up and give the Healer his chair.

“I’d rather stay,”  he began, but the Healer smiled patiently and said, “But you are untrained. If changes occur in our friend’s condition, you will not know what they mean, and would only have to call me anyway. You will be of more use to him tomorrow, after sleep.” He watched as Remus gave the big dog a final caress, smoothing the glossy coat, and added, “I too will keep petting him; he will not be alone.”

So Remus went home to the little cabin by the waterside. There was nobody there, of course; Andie and Jonas were still at the Hut. He sat down on the sofa, in front of the unlit fireplace, and stared at the floor. Tomorrow; the Healer had said ‘tomorrow.’ Sirius would live, at least until tomorrow. Maybe.

There was a soft ‘thud’ against the windowpane: an owl. Remus got up, crossed the room and admitted—Hedwig. She dropped the letter in Remus’s lap, and flew off into the kitchen, where she knew the owl treats were kept. He heard her knocking the lid off the jar as he unfolded the letter.

Dear Sirius and Remus,

I hope the werewolf spell and potion worked; I haven’t heard from you in the brass cup so I thought I’d try Hedwig.

You’ll never guess: we got him! Pettigrew! He’s alive and in Aurors’ custody, and he says he’s going to write a confession. Dumbledore’s seen him, and so has Fudge. So there’s a huge to-do about it all, and I’m sure, a trial to come, but the main thing is, he’s in custody and recognised. It’s going to be in the papers tomorrow, I think.

Gwen and Moody and I caught him; everything worked just like we practiced. Tomorrow we’re going back out to Greater Hangleton where the surveillance team is, to see what’s going on there; Moody’s sure that Voldemort is going to do something. He has to know that something drastic has happened by now.

Remus, Andie says she misses you, and Jonas does too.

Sirius, Gwen says that she won’t embarrass me by making me write

how much she misses you. (I’m embarrassed anyway; I’m looking at her,  she’s laughing at me, and we both know very well what she means!)

But the big thing is, you’re free now, or will be as soon as all the talking is over. Hurry home; we’re going to have the biggest party EVER!

Love, Harry

Remus put the letter on the sofa beside him and covered his face with his hands.