There'll Be Bluebirds

Harry woke up and lay in bed for a moment, listening. He heard nothing but the random chirp of a bird or the soft zing of crickets, but something wasn't quite right. His head turned on the pillow and he squinted a little, bringing Ginny into focus. She slept peacefully, a hand resting on Harry's chest. He gently lifted her hand and set it down on her pillow, next to her face. He quietly slid out of bed and shoved his glasses onto his face. He peered into the children's rooms, but they were all sleeping soundly. A snuffling sound came from the sitting room, and Harry tiptoed to the stairs. Teddy was frantically paging through the photograph albums. Harry folded himself to the floor. 'It's late, Teddy,' he said mildly.

Teddy shook his head miserably. 'Hands...' he muttered. 'I need a photograph of Dad... His hands...'

'All right, Teddy. Let's do this in the morning, okay?'

Teddy shook his head vehemently. 'No. Have to do it now,' he hissed.

Harry's eyes widened slightly, but he reached for one of the older albums, filled with photographs he'd found in the boxes of things he'd salvaged from his parents' house. 'Okay, Teddy...' He bent his head over the pages, searching for one of Remus by himself. The sound of Teddy's sniffles grew stronger and he swiped the back of his hand over his cheeks. 'Don't worry, Teddy,' Harry said soothingly. 'We'll find one...'

'What was he like?' Teddy asked, his voice thick and scratchy. He kept his eyes resolutely trained on the photo album, his fingers tracing the edge of a photograph of Harry's parents with Sirius and Remus.

'Who?'

'Dad...' Teddy's fingertip gently brushed over Remus' head. 'What was he really like?'

Harry turned a few pages thoughtfully. 'He cared too much,' he said finally. 'About everybody before he bothered to consider his own feelings.'

'That doesn't make sense...'

'Yeah, I know. But he wanted everyone else to be happy, even if it meant he wasn't. It sounds absolutely silly, but that's how he did things, even if the final result cost him. And he was so... Clever doesn't cover it. Still ranks as one of the best teachers I ever had. And he was always a little slow to believe people didn't see him as a freak or that they weren't repulsed by him.' Harry smiled slightly. 'Took your mother almost a year to convince him that he wasn't either too old or too poor for her; or that the werewolf issue didn't really matter to her. He almost never believed he was good enough for people.'

'I don't think Gran liked him very much,' Teddy interrupted.

'It's possible,' Harry acknowledged. 'Andromeda was part of a generation that was raised to believe all werewolves were evil beasts who ought to be destroyed. But somehow I think your grandmother's reasons for not completely liking your father have less to do with lycanthropy and more to do with whether or not she thought he'd make a good husband for her only child.' Harry's throat grew tight at the memory of Remus raging about the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, terrified he had made an innocent child a werewolf, simply by the act of conception. He glanced down at the photograph album. 'How's this one?' he asked Teddy, turning the heavy book around. Remus was propped up on a large cushion on the floor of the Gryffindor common room; sound asleep, with his hands wrapped around a small, leather-bound book. Teddy nodded, his fingers hovering lightly over the edge of the photograph. Harry reached down and gently pried the photograph off the thick paper and laid it in Teddy's hand. 'We'll go through them tomorrow after the little ones are in bed, yeah? Any photographs you want, you can have.'

Teddy's only reply was a long, drawn-out sniff. He started to jerk away from the hand Harry laid on his shoulder, but leaned into it.

'Come on, then... Let's get back to bed. Lily'll wake us all up soon enough.' Harry took the photograph album from Teddy's unresisting hands and laid it on the bookcase along with the others, and tugged Teddy to his feet, urging him toward the stairs.

Teddy stumbled up the stairs, his eyes focused on the photograph in his hand. He didn't realize Harry had followed him into the attic until he slid into bed, and Harry gently tucked the bedding around him. 'I'm too old to be tucked in, Harry,' he huffed.

Harry's smile grew wider. 'Maybe. But no matter how old you get, you'll always the three-year old who liked to throw porridge to the ceiling to see if it'd stick.' -And my first child-, he added silently. 'Good night, Ted.'

*****

'They're doing what?' Molly gasped.

Mundungus Fletcher smiled evilly and blew a foul, green smoke ring toward the ceiling of the kitchen. 'Makin' a club o' some sort. So's Harry can teach them defensive magic and the like.' Mundungus turned his grin toward Molly. 'Your lit'le girl can do a dead-on mimicry of that Umbridge woman.'

Molly's eyes grew rounder and her mouth dropped open. 'Ginny was there?'

'Yeah. An' your three boys, too. That mouthy know-it-all girl that was here, it's her idea to have the boy teach 'em Defense spells.'

'Why am I not surprised?' Remus muttered to Sirius.

'I'm surprised it wasn't Harry's idea,' Sirius replied, his voice heavy with disapproval. 'He should have been the one to do it.'

'Shush!' Molly glared across the table at the pair of Marauders. 'This isn't some game they're playing, is it?'

'Did they say why they've formed this particular group?' Remus asked calmly.

Mundungus shrugged. 'Said it's to help 'em pass their O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s. Seein' as how that toad-woman innit doin' it. Nothin' sinister.'

'I'm writing to Fred, George, Ron, and Ginny right now,' Molly declared. 'They're not to go to any meetings with this club.' She shoved her chair back and stood up, but Arthur's hand clamped around her wrist.

'Sit down, Molly,' he said, his voice heavy with intent for all its equanimity. 'Fred and George are of age,' he said in that same even tone. 'And you know very well Ron and Ginny will just do what they want anyway, especially if you tell them they can't. You'd waste an owl. And it's not safe to send any sort of message like that through the Owl Post. And if the Ministry doesn't see fit to ensure their magical education, it's in their best interests to be in this organization.' Arthur swallowed heavily. 'And in all likelihood, one day they're going to need it.' His hand rose and brushed over Molly's cheek, thumbing away tears that had begun to fall unchecked down her face. 'We can't wrap them in cotton wool and pretend it's not going to come sooner than we want.'

'But they're just children,' Molly protested weakly.

Remus snorted, rather uncharacteristically. 'When was the last time Harry was a child? The hour before James and Lily were killed?' he spat. 'Or perhaps the afternoon before he pulled the Sorcerer's Stone from that bloody mirror of Dumbledore's? If not then, perhaps it was the afternoon before Voldemort dragged Ginny down into the Chamber? Or when he followed Sirius' Animagus form through the Whomping Willow, faced a werewolf,' - here he saluted the small group gathered around the table - 'and managed to fight off hundreds of Dementors by himself? The last ten seconds before he touched the Triwizard Cup?' Remus didn't notice his voice rising, nor did he realize he was leaning across the table, face flushing with anger or that he had repeatedly struck the table with his clenched fist, punctuating each statement. 'When, Molly? When has Harry ever been a child?'

'And don't forget Molly, Ron and Hermione have been with him for most of that,' Sirius reminded her, failing miserably to keep the note of glee from his voice at finally getting to throw something into her face.

'I need some air,' Remus muttered, shoving his chair away from the table, panting with the effort of keeping his temper under control. He clattered across the stone floor and yanked the door open, lunging up the dark, narrow stairs from the basement to the tiny scrap of a garden. He paced the perimeter, chest heaving.

'You didn't have to bite her head off,' said a feminine voice behind him. Tonks perched on the edge of the low wall that bordered the top of the stairs. Remus had forgotten she was in the kitchen. 'They wouldn't let Sirius come up,' she explained. 'Said it was too dangerous.'

Remus huffed audibly, crossing his arms over his chest.

Tonks' head cocked to one side. 'She knows, Remus. Everything you said. She knows.'

'Then why does she insist on infantilizing them?' Remus stormed.

'To make up for what they've missed,' Tonks supplied. 'I thought you would have understood that.'

*****

6 October 1995

I can't say I'm not worried. Not about Harry's skills with Defensive magic. I'm starting to think his abilities in that area will surpass mine soon. Not that I'm a slouch or anything, but Harry... Harry has a gift. I'm probably biased, but my proudest moment as a teacher was finding out he produced a corporeal Patronus strong enough to drive away a horde of Dementors. And not yet fourteen years old. Especially considering I've not yet mastered the art of producing a corporeal Patronus myself. It is more than a bit pathetic that a grown man more than twice his age can't do, even as he taught Harry to do it. Those who can't, indeed.

What I am worried about is Harry himself. What if something happens to one of the other students? Knowing Harry, he'll blame himself for it. Or if one of them is killed in a battle - dear God, let that be far off into the future - he might not recover from that, knowing he trained them, and it wasn't enough.

And what if Umbridge catches them? It could make things rather difficult for them and their parents, if they have parents that work for the Ministry. Fudge is petty enough to take it out on them.

Remus laid his quill down and stared at the shadows on the wall of the flat, dancing in the flickering lamplight. He closed the journal and leaned forward to blow out the lamp.

*****

Remus stumbled into the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, ravenously hungry. Ever since Sirius had gathered "the old gang" he'd become accustomed to eating regularly. Molly was a great one for making sure food was available at all Order meetings. For some of them, it was the only chance they'd had to eat that day, considering they were dividing their time between work for the Order and their day jobs. It was also the night before the full moon, and the desire to accost a chicken and rip it to shreds until nothing was left but the bones was almost as relentless as his need for...

He shook himself violently, rather like a dog. -Better to not let your mind wander in that direction, he told himself sternly. Not for the first time, Remus idly wondered if he would be able to handle living an ascetic lifestyle. It wouldn't be wildly different from his current rather monkish existence. He peered around the door that led into the kitchen, holding his breath, feeling at once relieved and crestfallen to find it lacking the company of...

-

Stop it, he commanded himself. I will when you will, echoed the wolf. 'Don't try me,' he said aloud, in what he hoped was a severe tone he reserved for the most recalcitrant students. His only reply was the ghost of mocking laughter.

Sighing gustily, Remus ran up to the sitting room, to find Sirius stretched out on his stomach in front of the hearth, his head in the fire. Remus deliberately trod on the creaky floorboard to alert Sirius to his presence. Whatever he was saying was abruptly cut off as he yanked his head from the flames with a muffled oath. 'Am I interrupting anything?' Remus asked, not in the least bit sorry that Sirius had bumped his head on the mantle when he stood up.

'Just talking to the Marauders-in-training,' Sirius said grumpily, rubbing the top of his head. 'Am I bleeding?' he asked, tilting his head down for Remus to inspect.

Remus' fingers parted the graying black strands, gingerly brushing over an already sizable lump. 'No. Your head is harder than the stones of Gringotts,' he said sardonically.

'Hurts,' Sirius muttered, continuing to rub his head. 'Don't supposed you'd kiss it to make it better?' A sly grin flitted over his face.

'Hmmm.' Remus pretended to consider the option. He ruffled Sirius' hair thoughtfully. 'When was the last time you washed your hair?'

'Erm....' Sirius flushed, not wanting to admit it had been a couple of weeks, especially since he'd been so vain when they were younger.

'I'm not your type anyway, you mangy mutt,' Remus said, good-naturedly slapping Sirius on the back. 'You're much too high-maintenance for me...' Sirius' only reply was to toss his hair haughtily out of his face. 'Has Molly left anything for dinner?' Remus asked hopefully.

'Yeah.' Sirius led Remus back down into the basement kitchen. He retrieved a clean plate and loaded it with leftover chicken and potatoes, mindful of Remus' eating habits before a full moon.

'So you were talking to Harry, Ron, and Hermione?' Remus prompted, stabbing a potato with his fork.

'Yeah. We talked about this and that. Their Defense group, mostly.' Sirius shifted uneasily. 'I told them Umbridge wasn't a Death Eater... She isn't, is she?'

Remus shook his head, mouth full. Swallowing, he replied, 'Not that I am aware. Ask Kingsley next time you see him if she's ever been suspected, but I don't recall that to have been the case.'

Sirius nodded. 'I told them she was a horribly unpleasant person, though, prone to believing the worst about people.'

'And the Defense group?' Remus prodded.

'I think it's a good idea.'

'Even with that damn Decree?'

'Remus, do you really think it's an awful idea?' Sirius challenged.

Remus pushed a potato around on his plate before replying, 'No.' He quickly added, 'I'm just worried about what will happen to them if she catches them. Harry barely got off from being expelled over the summer; I don't think he'd survive something like this...'

'And Hogwarts is the only other place he's safe besides Privet Drive,' Sirius finished glumly. 'And it should please you to know I passed on Molly's sentiments about the group to Harry, Ron, and Hermione.'

Remus' shoulders slumped a little. 'And they're going to continue as they are?'

'Yes.'

Remus pushed his plate away, no longer hungry. 'Just as well, I suppose... None of them would ever willingly follow someone else blindly.' He stood and wrapped his cloak securely around his body. 'I'll just go home, then. I'll see you in a few days.'

*****

7 October 1995

The worst thing about being able to see both sides of an argument is that it makes you painfully aware of the consequences if you do something and if you don't do a thing.

I understand why Molly is adamantly opposed to the "children" doing this Defense group. Now that Umbridge has Fudge firmly on her side with how the school is supposed to be run, every single one of them runs the risk of expulsion. Fred and George, I think won't be too fussed about it. But Hermione would be devastated, and Molly would be as well, on the others' behalf. If that were to happen, I suppose we could take over teaching them ourselves. At the very least it would give Sirius something to do. He's not exactly a slouch at Transfiguration or Charms and he would be more than capable of seeing the younger ones through their studies for fourth and fifth years. Kingsley and I could do Defense, and maybe... It's possible we could find someone reliable to teach Potions.

Maybe Arthur, Molly, Sirius, and I should sit down and make out some plans. Just in case we have need of them.

I also understand why Sirius is desperate for Harry to do this. He needs Harry to demonstrate that he's James' son - that Harry's rebellious streak is no mere accident. And he needs to know that Harry isn't sitting idly by, waiting for someone to make decisions for him. Rather like Sirius is being forced to do right now. That being said, we'll have to make arrangements for Harry, so he's got the best tools he can have at his disposal. I'm sure there are some books and other things in that library at Grimmauld Place that might prove useful. I'm not sure how we can actually get them to Harry without arousing suspicion. Perhaps we'll have to wait until Christmas. Umbridge can't take umbrage at a simple gift, can she?

*****

Teddy sat on the floor, the last of the photograph albums balanced on his lap. A small pile of photographs featuring Remus during his years at Hogwarts was scattered on the rug next to him. 'Harry?'

'Yeah?'

'Who is...?' Teddy's nose crinkled as he struggled to recall a name from his father's journal. 'Umbidge...?'

'Umbridge,' Harry corrected automatically. His head whipped up as the realization sunk in.

'Where did you hear that name?' he demanded.

'From Dad...'

Harry pulled his glasses off and rubbed his eyes tiredly. 'Tomorrow, Teddy,' he promised. He felt a twinge and suppressed it. It's Remus' story I'm telling, not mine, he reasoned. 'Go to bed, Teddy...'