Stormseeker: Borrowed Destiny

I'm glad when the full moon is over. The next one I have to look forward to appears to be a couple days after Christmas. Wonderful. And Moony has been going through this his entire life? I'm not about to complain, however. I'll deal with it.

At least I have great friends, for the most part. This seems like a minor secret compared to the time travel and the fact that I'm not really Harry Potter, though. Just another complication to add to an already complicated life.

"I thought you said he was safe," Blaise says.

"It was my mistake," I say. "Don't blame him for it."

"Are you going to be alright?" Neville asks.

"I'm fine," I insist.

Truthfully, although I'm determined to stick it out, I'm not sure how many lunar cycles I'll be able to handle. By the time I knew I was infected, it had been too late to jump back anyway. As tempted as I might be, I'm not about to try to seek out something that would cause a full reset over something like this. The basilisk is dead already, and I'm not certain what else would cause that sort of effect. I'm sure I'll run across something eventually... but I refuse to intentionally abandon my friends.

"Sure, I see how it is," Draco says. "You were willing to risk yourself to save Hermione, but not me. And here I was starting to think you weren't interested in girls."

"Draco!" I say. "I'm not-- I don't-- gah, never mind!"

Blaise definitely seems to be uneasy around me, and Dean is more openly afraid of me than usual, but the rest of them seem to take my 'furry little problem' pretty much in stride.

I'm planning to spend Christmas with the Longbottoms again, although the others are going home to their respective families for this holiday instead, so it'll just be me, Neville, and his grandmother, for the most part. I wonder what we should do about Grim in the meantime.

Neville sends an owl back to his grandmother asking if it's alright to bring the dog with us when we come visit for the holiday, and Augusta agrees, provided the dog is well-behaved. On the day before taking the Hogwarts Express out, I slip into the Slytherin dormitories to get Grim moved.

"Alright, boy, come on," Draco says. "You can't stay here, since none of us are staying at Hogwarts over holiday, so we're going to take you to the Longbottom estate for Christmas. You want to visit the Longbottoms?"

Grim cocks his head thoughtfully, then gives a nod of his head.

"Good boy," Draco says. "Let's go. We're going to take you through the Floo."

The two of us bring Grim down to the common room. There's a handful of Slytherins about at the moment doing homework and playing Exploding Snap, but most of them don't even bother looking up. They've already seen the dog around several times, and seem to have collectively determined that it's not their business. Nobody has breathed a word about him to the teachers.

"Is taking a dog through the Floo really going to work?" I wonder.

"Sure, why not?" Draco says. "Although it might not be particularly comfortable, I suppose." He pulls out a bit of Floo powder and passes some over to me.

Uncomfortable would be an understatement, especially considering the trouble I have with Floo travel to begin with. I feel like I'm being bounced around this way and that, colliding into walls, getting squeezed into spaces too tight for me, and then landing with a dog butt in my face.

"There you are, boys," Augusta says, greeting us. "I hope the trip wasn't too bad."

I push Grim off of me with a bit of a glare. "Worse than a Gringotts' cart," I say brightly.

"And this is the dog Neville mentioned, I take it," Augusta says. "My, he is a big one, isn't he."

"He was nothing but skin and bones when we found him in Hogsmeade," Draco says. "But we've been fattening him right up with proper meals."

"An awfully nice thing you've done here," Augusta says. "You'd best get back to school, though. I'll meet you at Kings Cross tomorrow, Harry."

"See you then, Gran," I say.

Much as I don't like spending the next full moon wasting my holiday, at least it's probably best that I won't be at school for it. I can get Neville to cover for me, and there won't be a problem. I have no idea how Augusta might react if she found out, so I'd best be careful.

And much as I enjoy classes and learning whatever I can, I can definitely use a holiday every now and then. Although sometimes I have to force myself to actually relax, and not just take the excuse to have more time for self-study.

"Stormseeker," Neville tells me quietly. "We're going to be visiting St. Mungo's on Christmas Eve. To, you know, visit my parents. Do you want to come along with us, or would you rather stay here?"

"Your parents?" I say. "They're still alive? I'm sorry, I guess I just kind of assumed they were dead, like the Potters..."

Neville nods sheepishly. "They're... alive, but not really all there. They don't even recognize me, or really know what's going on around them most of the time."

"That's terrible," I say. "What happened to them? If you don't mind me asking."

"It's alright," Neville says. "You've told me some pretty big secrets yourself, I'd feel silly if I couldn't talk to you about it. They were tortured, you see. With the Cruciatus Curse. The Lestranges tortured them, until their minds just couldn't handle it anymore. At least the ones who did it are in Azkaban now..."

I put a hand on Neville's shoulder reassuringly. Maybe there are people who deserve to go to Azkaban after all. "I'll go," I say quietly.

"Thanks, Stormseeker," Neville says.

I've never been inside of St. Mungo's Wizarding Hospital before, which is probably just as well, since anytime I'm badly injured enough to have needed to, I'm usually dead in short order anyway. I follow along with Neville and Augusta, who seem to know where they're going, to the Permanent Spell Damage Ward.

Frank and Alice Longbottom are a sad sight to see. They don't even really seem to be aware of us being there at all. Then, when Alice seems to have an almost lucid moment, she gives Neville a candy wrapper. Neville takes it delicately like a precious gift, and then his mother goes back to not seeing him again.

"Neville," I say, taking him aside and lowering my voice. "If ever in space and time I come across a way to cure them, or save them, or prevent this from happening, I will do so. I promise you that."

"Thank you, Stormseeker," Neville whispers. "That means a lot to me."

When we return to the Longbottoms' home that evening, Grim is nowhere to be found. I look all over the big house, and in the gardens out back, and find no sign of him. My heart sinks a little as I fear that he might have run away while we were out.

"Has anyone seen Grim?" I ask.

"Not I," Augusta says. "Come to think, I'm not sure if I saw him this morning, either."

"Maybe he was just hungry," Neville says.

"I hope he comes back..." I murmur.

Christmas morning, amid the presents under the three, there's a big black dog waiting for me. He lifts his head, pants and wags his tail as he seems me approach. I beam broadly and go up to give him a hug.

"There you are, boy," I say. "I was worried about you. Didn't like being left home alone, did you? Sorry about that."

Grim cocks his head at me, and then continues to pant.

"Good doggy," Neville says, coming up and patting the dog on the back. "Why don't we see what non-canine presents we've got laying around here?"

Neville and I start opening up our presents. In addition to large quantities of candy from many people, there's a few things of more lasting interest. Dumbledore sent me a small package containing the Marauder's Map, along with a note stating, "While I wish I had the time to watch the castle with this, perhaps you could put it to better use than I."

"What's that?" Neville asks.

"It's a magic map of Hogwarts," I say. "Watch this. I solemnly swear I am up to no good." I tap the map, and the work of Moony, Padfoot, Prongs, and Wormtail appears on the formerly blank parchment before us. Grim peers over to it with interest.

"Who made it?" Neville asks. "I assume those must be nicknames."

"Moony would be Professor Lupin, I believe," I say, frowning thoughtfully, remembering the name he asked me to call him. It hadn't occurred to me that he was one of those who made the map, but I suppose it makes as much sense as anything else. "And the others I assume were James Potter, Sirius Black, and, um, whoever the other guy was."

"Peter Pettigrew?" Neville says, raising an eyebrow.

"Was that his name?" I ask.

Grim is letting out a low growl, laying his ears back against his head.

"Yeah," Neville says. "They say when Sirius Black killed him, all they could find of him afterward was his little finger."

Grim is shaking his head a bit.

"Something wrong, Grim?" I ask.

Grim looks up at me and whimpers pathetically.

"You want some of these treats?" I say. "You like Pumpkin Pasties? Here you go." I toss him the food, and he starts gobbling it up. "Mischief managed," I say, poking the map with my wand to blank it again.

I pull open a number of presents from assorted Slytherins that appear to be fascinating books on questionable material, a couple objects that tingle with dark magic, and one rather disturbing shrunken head.

"Better put these away before your gran sees them," I murmur, shoving them into my bag of holding.

Moony sent me a book on defensive charms, along with a letter saying, "Send me an owl before the start of term if you get a chance. I'll rework my course schedule for you to teach anything you want to learn in class."

Draco's gift for me appears to be a Remembrall. "Remember these?" he writes. "This one does one better, though. It'll turn black if it detects that you've been Obliviated. It turns black when my father touches it, but he just dismissed it as a useless bauble. It stays clear for me, though. I guess those Dementors must have broken through the Obliviation used on me in the worst way possible."

Hermione gave me a lunascope. "This shows the phases of the moon without having to use moon charts," she writes. "I know Astronomy was never your best subject."

I open up the present from Neville, revealing a wrist chain that attaches to the end of your wand to keep from you from losing your wand.

"I know it's not much, but--" Neville begins.

"It's brilliant," I say. "I hate being disarmed or getting my wand knocked out of my hand."

Theodore sent a book titled The Magic of Diplomacy: How to Get People to Do What You Want Without Spells or Potions. That looks even more exciting than the books of spells I've been given.

Blaise gave me a box of chocolates in a purple box. "These are Dream Sweets," he writes. "Eat one before bed, and you'll have nothing but pleasant dreams." I'm used to nightmares and tend to just ignore them anymore, but this might be a good way to counteract that, at least for a bit.

Dean's present is a toy figurine of Yoda, the Jedi Master who looks a lot like a goblin.

Luna sent me a bottle of wrackspurt repellant. "It's a new formula developed by my father," she writes. "We're not sure how well it works yet, but feel free to try it out."

Finally, there's an anonymous present, a penknife with attachments to open any lock and untie any knot. It looks like a very useful device, but I wonder who gave it to me?

"Who sent that one?" Neville asks.

Grim barks enthusiastically, bouncing up and down and wagging his tail.

"I don't know," I say. "I should probably have someone look over this, along with some of the Slytherins' presents, to make sure they aren't cursed or anything."

Grim cocks his head at me and whimpers a little.

"I'll ask Moony to do it," I say. "Dumbledore would just give me disapproving looks."

Grim barks happily.

"You got so many more presents than me," Neville says. "I suppose that's understandable. You're a very popular person."

"Among the wrong crowd at times," I murmur, pointing at the now-empty packages the Slytherins sent me. "I wish I could have been friends with the Weasleys. But it's far too late for that. Not in this lifetime." I shake my head. "And for all the wonderful things people get me, I always feel like my own gifts to them are inadequate."

"I've always liked what you've given me," Neville assures me. All I'd gotten him this year was another Herbology book.

"Neville," I say. "Of anything that would be physically possible for me to obtain, what would you most like to see?"

"I couldn't ask for more," Neville says. "You've already done so much for me."

I shake my head and put my finger to his lips. "Just answer the question, Neville. I mean it. Think about it."

"Well, I'm not sure..." Neville says, looking around to make sure his grandmother still isn't anywhere within earshot. "But I always wondered if I might be able to do magic better with a wand of my own."

I look at him in surprise. "You aren't using a wand that specifically chose you?"

Neville shakes his head. "My gran insisted that I use my father's wand," he says. "It was hard to get any sort of response out of it at all for a while. I thought at first it was because I was almost a Squib. But the way you and the others have been helping me with my magic, I think I'm pretty clearly not a Squib. So I started wondering--"

I grab Neville's hand and lead him over to the fireplace. "Let's find out," I say.

"What?" Neville says. "Where are we--"

"We're going to see Ollivander," I say. "Right now." I look to the dog. "Grim, if Gran shows up, can you distract her so she doesn't notice we're gone?"

Grim barks happily.

"Good dog," I say. I toss a bit of Floo powder into the fire, and say, "Diagon Alley!"

Diagon Alley is cold and fairly quiet at the moment, and I hope that Ollivander is even in today. There's a few people scurrying about doing some very last minute Christmas shopping, a couple of families who seem to have decided to eat out today, and a handful of people trying to ignore the festivities altogether.

I drag Neville into Ollivander's shop and peer about. Sure enough, the old man comes out to the front after a few moments.

"Good day, Mr. Chelseer," Ollivander says. "Is your wand still serving you well? Pine, dragon heartstring, thirteen inches?"

"Yes, sir," I say. "And I wanted to buy a surprise last-minute Christmas present for my friend here, Neville Longbottom."

"Ah, Longbottom," Ollivander says. "I remember when I sold your parents their wands..." He starts to go on about Neville's parents, and neither of us care to interrupt.

"I've been using my father's wand," Neville says after a bit.

"Yes, a fine wand, but you would probably get a better response from a wand of your own," Ollivander says. "I'm glad you came here. Let's see about getting you paired up with a more suitable match, shall we?"

Ollivander starts bringing out wands for Neville to test, going through a large pile of them before finally coming up with one that he's satisfied with. Cherry and unicorn hair, thirteen inches.

"Merlin, I never realized how big a difference it could make," Neville says, brandishing his new wand with a bright gleam in his eyes. "It's like I've been wearing shoes that didn't fit for my entire life..."

I beam at Neville, and count out the galleons for Ollivander. "Ollivander, sir, if you remember, could you tell me about what year you made that wand?" I ask.

"That one?" Ollivander says. "Hmm, I believe it was sometime in 1989."

"Thank you, sir," I say. "I think we should hurry back, now. Wouldn't want to leave Gran alone with the dog for too long on Christmas."

Neville and I get back to the Longbottom estate. The parlor is empty, and the sound of barking can be heard from down the hallway. We head down that way to see what's going on.

"No, you may not have more treats!" Augusta is telling Grim. "No matter what pathetic look you give me."

Grim barks, leans down with his butt in the air, and wags his tail.

"And I'm not going to play with you, either," Augusta says, glancing up to see us. "Boys! Do pay more attention to this dog. He seems to be bored."

I chuckle softly. "Guess he didn't like that the presents were getting more attention than he was. Here, boy. Come on." I pat my leg, and Grim bounds up toward me, jumps up and licks my face.

After breakfast, I skim through today's Daily Prophet. Sirius Black had apparently been sighted near Ottery St. Catchpole on Christmas Eve.

"What do you suppose he was doing down there?" Neville wonders. "Last time he was spotted, it was near Hogsmeade. And now he's on the other side of the country?"

I snort softly. "Maybe they should get the Dementors away from Hogwarts, then. Idiots."

Grim barks happily.

"They're still probably afraid that he'll try to attack you," Neville says.

"Doubly idiots," I say, shaking my head. "Dementors are more dangerous than any human could ever be."

That evening, I send Solomon off with a letter to Moony. "Thank you for the book," I write. "It looks really great. All this talk of dark creatures is fine and all, but what I'd really like to learn is spells, especially given the difficulty I have with charms." And I'd much rather know how to cast a proper Shield Charm than how to deal with hinkypunks. I hate taking advantage of Moony's guilt and good will, but maybe it'll make him feel a bit better, too, knowing that there's something he could do to help make it up to me a bit.

I also get started immediately on the book Theodore sent me. It seems a bit slimy, manipulating people, but the way the book makes it sound, diplomacy is supposed to be a good thing. And it acknowledges that it's often a give and take. Very often, you can convince people to go along with what you want by agreeing to give them something in return for it, or do something for them. I hadn't really thought about that as such before, even though that's what I've been doing sometimes.

Then, before bed, I pull out one of the candies Blaise sent me and pop it into my mouth. It's almost sickeningly sweet, and practically melts in my mouth.

I have no nightmares tonight. Just the best dreams I can remember having in a long time. I dream of Wishingsdale, where my friends and family are all safe and happy amid dancing purple horses and singing flowers. I dream of a glorious battle, vanquishing my enemies and crushing them beneath my heel. I have a very interesting dream involving Snape, that I'm definitely never going to tell him about.

I might have to ask Blaise where he got those things when I get back to school. These are great.

"I'd best head for bed," I tell Neville. "The full moon starts tonight. You'll cover for me, right, Neville?"

"Of course," Neville says.

"Thanks, Neville," I say, grinning at him and heading upstairs.

Grim follows along after me, bounding into my room before I can close the door behind me. He plops his butt firmly on the floor and looks up at me pointedly.

"What, you don't want to leave me alone?" I say. "You want to keep me company?"

Grim barks affirmatively.

"Well, alright, then," I say. "Colloportus. Muffliato." The door locks, and hopefully the privacy charm will keep Augusta from hearing anything out of the ordinary. "And I've got my wolfsbane potion, so everything will be alright."

I pull out the potion Snape gave me and drink it down. Why does every potion in this world seem to have a different variety of nasty flavor? Snape wanted Professor Lupin removed at once when he found out what had happened. Thankfully, Dumbledore and I were able to talk him down. I get the impression that Snape really, really does not like Lupin.

"I hope Moony's alright by himself," I say.

Grim lets out a soft whimper.

"He felt so awful about this all," I say. "I was afraid he was going to do something rash because of it. He kept trying to comfort me, when he was the one who needed comforting more."

I set my wand safely aside on the dresser and sit down on the floor next to Grim. The dog puts his head in my lap and looks up at me with big, knowing eyes.

"And that just leaves nobody left to comfort me," I say. "It's all pity, when they can seem to decide what they should be feeling at all. But I don't need anyone's pity. I can appreciate they're trying to be nice and all, but... you know what I'm saying?"

Grim whimpers a little and cuddles up against me. I laugh softly and give him a hug.

"Yeah, that's what I needed," I say. "Not pity, just doggy cuddles. Thanks."

I glance out the window. It's a dark, overcast evening, but I can feel the pull of the moon in my very blood, burning within me like acid. I disengage from Grim.

"It's starting," I murmur.

It's better with the wolfsbane potion, since I don't lose touch with my mind, but the transformation is still very painful. My body is being forced and contorted into a different form against its will. Bones moving, fur sprouting, face morphing... and then it's over.

Once the transformation is complete, it's not so bad. I know it'll take a toll on me later, but while I'm actually transformed, I feel alive, full of energy, like I could do anything. Aggressive, hungry, violent energy, admittedly. But with the potion, I can control it. I won't be attacking anyone on blind instinct.

Come morning, I'll be exhausted, sore, drained of all energy. Thankfully, by the time the new school term starts, I'll have had a chance to recover.

But for now, I have a furry best friend to spend some time with. I'm very much glad that Grim is here.