Living with Danger

Chapter 46: Aftermath

At 10:53 AM on 24 December 1990, the Pack arrived in their Den by Portkey, looked at each other, and collapsed on the mattresses covering the floor.

At 10:54, the screaming started.

No one could ever clearly remember the next fifteen or twenty minutes. Everyone was sure of what, basically, had been involved: a lot of yelling, laughing, crying, running around, jumping on people, hugging, kissing, scent-touching, and at least one case of licking (though Sirius always claimed he'd just forgotten he wasn't in dog form at the moment), but no one could recall very many particulars. The eventual conclusion was that they had simply mutually agreed to disengage their brains and allow themselves to exult in the moment.

They were free. They were home. And they were together.

As Danger had recalled in her time with the Founders, the Pack had gradually come to accept, and then to need, a higher level of touch than most people did. They comforted and showed affection with touch, so it only made sense that this, their greatest celebration ever, also involved a great deal of holding one another, of stroking faces and heads, of reaffirming, by the most basic of senses, that they were really all together again.

----------

Arthur Weasley wasn't quite sure how to feel at the moment.

He and Molly had agreed the night before that Sirius Black and his three companions could not, absolutely could not be their friends the Blacks.

Never mind that the Blacks had mysteriously vanished around the time that Sirius Black was said to have been arrested. Never mind that the Blacks were two men and two women, exactly as the newspaper reported Sirius Black and his three companions were. It was a coincidence, that was all, and they weren't going to think any more about it.

Except, of course, that Arthur had, and he suspected Molly had been as well.

What if they were wrong? What if it turned out that Patrick Black, with his open, friendly smile and his capable hands, was actually Sirius Black, a traitor and a killer? What if they'd befriended a criminal without knowing it?

And what of the Blacks' children? What had happened to them - and what would Ron do, if his friends never returned, or turned out to be completely different from who he had thought they were? Because, after all, there had always been that little nagging question in the back of his mind, confronted with a child named Harry in the custody of a man surnamed Black...

And then the morning had come, and the trial, and he'd been forced to face the facts.

He, Charlie, Percy, and Fred and George had managed to get seats in the courtroom, and the boys had stared openly as their neighbors were escorted in by Aurors and introduced themselves using quite different names than he knew them by.

It was true, then. Arthur felt ill. He had shown them his collection of plugs and batteries, his workshop in the shed - they had worked there with him sometimes. His wife and theirs, his children and theirs had been friends. He had shared some of the most important parts of his life with the men in front of him, and all the time they had been lying to him, lying about who they were and what they wanted...

But as the trial proceeded, something struck him. The names were different, yes, but the people in front of him were the same people he'd known for the last three years. They spoke and acted in the same way - even, or especially, Patrick - Sirius - with his wry humor and his frankness.

And their reactions to little Meghan (whom he was rather surprised to see, since he had left her at his home with Molly, and wondered what kind of woman this Amy Freeman was, if she could outwit his wife) were the same as his own would have been, if he were somehow restrained and saw one of his children - they looked intensely happy to see her and almost desperate to get to her.

But criminals could put on good faces, could have a sense of humor, could care about their children, Arthur reminded himself. And Black could claim he had been framed all he wanted. None of this was proof of anything...

Minerva McGonagall stood, a few rows in front of him. "Evidence exists to support this story," she said.

Arthur stared as he saw who was with her.

"Ron?" Charlie said incredulously. "Dad, look, it's Ron! And Ginny, and Luna! What are they doing here?"

"And those animals," Fred said. "They're the ones that were at home last night..."

"They've got Scabbers!" said Percy indignantly. "Dad, Ron's got Scabbers! What are they doing with him?"

George shushed them. "Look, McGonagall's doing something..."

The animals, under McGonagall's experienced hand, were revealed to be not animals but children - the Blacks' children - Hermione, subtly different than she had been - Drake, or Draco, as Arthur realized belatedly just before the boy named himself - and Harry.

Harry Potter.

"We're friends with The Boy Who Lived?" George said in an awed whisper. "Cool!"

"I still want to know what they're doing with Scabbers," Percy complained, just as Harry proclaimed that he could prove Sirius Black's innocence.

"Then do so," said Dumbledore.

Harry stepped forward, holding up the cage. "This rat is not a rat," he said loudly, first to the Wizengamot, then turning to face the rest of the courtroom. "This rat is an Animagus. His name is Peter Pettigrew. And he is the traitor and the murderer, not Sirius Black."

The Weasleys exchanged astonished looks as Harry turned to McGonagall. "Professor, can you turn him back?"

"I most certainly can," McGonagall said, extending her hand for the cage.

"Wait," Amelia Bones said from the bench. "If this story is true - I'm not going to say that I do or don't believe you, Mr. Potter, until I see some proof - but if this story is true, wouldn't Pettigrew be a flight risk?"

"He's asleep," Draco said. "He'll be asleep until three o'clock this afternoon."

"Hagrid gave him a potion to make him sleep," Meghan chimed in.

"Very well," Amelia said, sitting back. "Proceed, Professor."

McGonagall accepted the cage from Harry, unlatched it, and unceremoniously dumped the rat out - Percy made an angry noise - then pointed her wand at the small mound of fur and concentrated.

The entire courtroom seemed to be holding its breath. Arthur knew he was.

Hermione and Harry sprang back as the rat twisted and grew into a small, fat, balding man, snoring loudly as he lay on the courtroom floor.

Percy stared open-mouthed at what had been his pet for nine years as noise erupted all around. Charlie was exchanging waves with someone on the other side of the courtroom - Arthur looked and saw the boy's girlfriend Tonks grinning at him. Her hair was lime-green today, and she was sitting next to a brunette witch Arthur vaguely recognized as the girl's mother. She was smiling and dabbing at her eyes at the same time.

"You are free to go," Dumbledore said from the bench, and the chains fell away from the four people who had, until a moment ago, been on trial.

"YES!" Patrick - Sirius, Arthur reminded himself - threw himself out of the chair and snatched his children into his arms, crying with joy. Arthur found his own eyes tearing up just a touch. The action was so like what he would have done if it had been him...

How strange. They were lying - and yet they weren't. We never knew their real names, but it seems we knew the real people after all...

Percy hadn't moved since the revelation of Scabbers' true nature. The twins appeared to be doing a war dance to the chant of, "They got off, they got off, they got off - " A silver-haired witch a few rows away grinned at them and flashed them a thumbs-up before departing her seat.

"Enough, boys," Arthur said, surprised to hear the emotion in his voice. "Charlie, watch your brothers for a moment?"

"Sure, Dad." Charlie grinned at him, though the grin trembled ever so slightly. "Got to you, didn't it," he said very quietly. "Me too."

Arthur made his way down the stairs to the courtroom floor, where three small children stood in an almost forlorn huddle, watching their friends celebrate with their parents. "Ron," he said, trying to sound stern. All three of them jumped and turned around guiltily. "How did you get here?"

"Luna!" Gerald Lovegood arrived, slightly out of breath from getting to them. "I'm so proud of you - and you're in so much trouble - Molly Weasley was supposed to be watching you - however did you get here?"

"We Flooed," Luna said, as if she couldn't see why they hadn't thought of that themselves.

"We had to come, Dad," Ron said, looking earnest. "Honest, we did. Harry and the others couldn't go by themselves, 'cause they couldn't say where to go. So we had to say it for them."

"And then Professor McGonagall said we ought to stay and see the end," Ginny added, grinning. "And we did, and it was great - they got off!" Her smile faltered. "Are we in trouble?"

"That's for your mother to say," Arthur said as severely as he could manage under the pressure of several conflicting emotions.

Ron and Ginny exchanged unhappy looks.

----------

"Gertrude Granger,

"She's no stranger,

"She's a danger

"To us all," Aletha chanted, grinning.

"Age of eight,

"She tried to skate,

"And didn't wait

"To take a fall."

Danger shoved her friend down onto the mattresses, laughing. "I cannot believe you remember that!"

"I made it up, didn't I?" Aletha countered. "And that, my friends, is how Danger Granger got her name. She not only fell, she took down four or five of us with her - "

"And I've never put on roller skates since," Danger finished. "Or anything else with wheels or blades or things like that. I like my feet to stay where I put them."

She shrieked as Remus hooked an arm around her ankles and pulled her down next to him on the mattresses.

"Is it legal to be this happy?" Sirius asked blissfully, lying on the mattresses with Meghan cuddled next to him and Hermione making small braids in his hair. Harry and Draco were chasing each other around the room on all fours, switching roles from pursuer to pursued at a moment's notice for no reason at all, and tussling joyously, like a pair of puppies, when they caught each other.

"It had better be," Aletha said firmly. "This family's law-breaking days are over."

"And that leaves us with a problem," Remus said regretfully, sitting up.

"Problem?" Sirius questioned, tickling Meghan and making her giggle.

"The Weasleys and the Lovegoods."

"Oh." Sirius sighed. "Didn't think of that."

----------

Molly Weasley was entirely sure how to feel at the moment.

She was absolutely furious.

Not about Meghan, good heavens no - the strange woman in her kitchen hadn't even had time to answer Molly's question before Meghan was clinging to her, still crying, but now also babbling something at a high rate of speed - something about "Dadfoot" and "Wormtail" and every so often the words "Aunt Amy". With that and the resemblance, which was recognizable with the two of them together, Molly had realized the woman must be some kind of relative - of course, the Blacks were originally from North America, it made sense that Carrie would have an American aunt.

Amy Freeman, once she had gotten Meghan calmed down long enough to introduce herself, had proceeded to work the little girl up again by telling her that she was going to take her back to her parents. Molly was thrilled, or that was what she told herself. The girl belonged with her family, after all. And it wasn't as if Molly didn't have enough of her own.

No, it was the last thing Meghan had told her that was making her blood boil.

"Mrs. Weasley?" the girl had said as she was ready to step into the Floo with her great-aunt. "Just so you know - everybody else went to the trial."

And then she was gone, before Molly could react to the phrase "everybody else".

Because the only other people in the house were her youngest son and daughter, and her daughter's friend...

And thorough investigation had proved that they were no longer actually in the house...

The Floo flared up. A stocky form appeared in it - Charlie, Molly guessed, and was proven right a moment later. "Ron and Ginny are with us, Mum," he said before she could ask, coughing a little as he stepped out. "And you wouldn't believe what happened - "

"Later," Molly said grimly, watching the fire like a hawk. The twins emerged next, she didn't know in what order, it didn't really matter anyway, and then...

"RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY!" she shouted even before that child had fully emerged from the Floo. "COME HERE THIS INSTANT!"

Ron blanched. He knew the Name Rule well - the more of his name his mother used, the more trouble he was in. His full name, middle and all, could not be good.

"AND YOU, MISS GINEVRA MOLLY, DON'T THINK YOU CAN SNEAK OFF!"

Ginny tried to look as if that wasn't exactly what she had been intending to do.

"WHAT IN THE WORLD DID YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING? RUNNING OFF LIKE THAT, WITHOUT EVEN TELLING ME WHERE YOU WERE GOING - "

"Mum, we had to," Ron protested feebly as Arthur Apparated into the kitchen.

"OH, YOU HAD TO, DID YOU? DID SOMEONE'S LIFE DEPEND ON IT?"

"Molly," her husband interjected.

"Don't bother me now, Arthur - WELL? ANSWER ME - DID SOMEONE'S LIFE DEPEND ON YOUR LEAVING THIS HOUSE WITHOUT PERMISSION?"

"Yes," Ginny said in a small voice.

"DON'T YOU LIE TO ME, GINEVRA MOLLY WEASLEY - "

"She's not lying, Molly," Arthur said sharply. "Ron and Ginny may well have saved lives with what they did today."

"How so, Arthur?" Molly asked in a quiet, dangerous voice.

Arthur explained.

Molly had to sit down.

My children - friends with Harry Potter? Saving Sirius Black from his - undeserved - fate?

And the true criminal sheltering under our roof, eating our food, for all those years...

I am not a fainting type of woman, but I might make an exception today...

"So Luna's father took her home," Arthur concluded. "And here we are."

"Yes," Molly said, shaking her head slightly in bewilderment. "Here we are indeed."

At some point during the story, all the children had left the kitchen. Arthur took a seat at the table next to Molly and put his arm around her shoulders. She leaned back into it, needing the comfort, needing to know that her husband hadn't changed, even though everything else in her life seemed to have.

"We need to consider what we're going to do now," Arthur said into the silence. "Will we continue to associate with them?"

Molly sat upright in surprise. "What do you mean?"

"I feel - bear in mind, Molly dear, this is only one man's opinion, and a very faulty man at that - but I feel that we should attempt to remain friends with the Blacks. And the Lupins," he added with a smile. "For the children's sakes, and for ours."

"For heaven's sake, Arthur, they lied to us!"

"To keep their children safe," Arthur pointed out calmly. "Wouldn't we do the same in their place?"

"I've never been in their place - and I hope I never would be. Accused of crimes, arrested - "

"Falsely accused," Arthur reminded her. "Falsely arrested. They've been cleared of all charges, and I wouldn't be surprised if there are apologies forthcoming from the Ministry, and quite possibly some form of monetary compensation."

"Yes, yes, that's all well and good, but we're not talking about the Ministry, Arthur, we're talking about us, and these people whom we thought were our friends. And now we find out they've been lying to us for three years - "

"What have they lied to us about, Molly?" Arthur asked quietly. "Their names, and their faces. Nothing else. Is that any worse than finding out a friend of yours dyes her hair or goes by a nickname?"

"Yes - this is deliberate!"

"It was also necessary. Molly, love, I've seen you with Carrie and Danger - Aletha and Gertrude - and you enjoy their company. I know you do. And I would imagine that if they're anything like the friends you thought they were, that they didn't want to lie to you. But if they had told you the truth, what would you have done?"

Molly sighed. "I would have gone to the Ministry, I suppose," she said unhappily. "But that doesn't change the fact - "

An owl tapped on the window. Arthur got up to let it in, and it dropped one of the letters it was carrying on the table before turning around and soaring back out. Molly picked it up, seeing the familiar handwriting with new eyes.

Danger wrote this. But is that really her name, or - no, wait, she told us she was named Gertrude, the day we first met. I'd almost forgot.

Somehow that made her feel a little better.

She slit the envelope neatly open and pulled out the contents.

"'Dear Arthur and Molly,'" she read aloud. "'What can I say? The masks are off, the truth is out. You must feel as if we've betrayed you. In many ways, we have, and we are all so incredibly sorry that it had to be that way.

"'You may not believe me, but you have been some of the best friends we have ever had. We hope that you won't shun us completely, but even if you do, we beg of you, please don't keep our children apart.

"'Harry and Draco and Hermione are famous now. They will probably be besieged at school by children who want to be their friends simply so they can be famous too. Your Ron is the best thing that could have happened to them - someone who likes them for themselves, who was their friend before he ever knew that they were anything out of the ordinary.

"'If you want to talk to us, to ask us anything, please feel free to come over. The invitation extends to Ron and Ginny as well, of course. Whatever you decide, we all thank you for three wonderful years of friendship. Yours truly, Gertrude "Danger" Granger-Lupin.'"

Molly and Arthur Weasley looked at one another.

----------

"Yeah, we've got him locked up tight," Alastor Moody said with satisfaction. "Anti-transformation wards on the walls of the holding cell - as long as he's within them, he can't change - and there's a team over at Azkaban putting them up on his cell there right now. He's not getting away this time."

"Sounds good," Sirius mumbled through a mouthful of sandwich, prompting Aletha to whack him on the side of the head and call him an uncouth lout.

"Lovers' talk," Moody grumbled, but Sirius caught a trace of a smile on his face. "You want to see him before we ship him over, Black?"

"No thanks," Sirius said emphatically, putting his sandwich down on the plate. "I've got better things to do than talk to him. I'd rather be with my family." He smiled, realizing that he meant what he was saying. "After all, he doesn't matter now, does he? The truth's out. Wormtail doesn't matter anymore."

"Still has to have his trial, though," Moody said, adding in a lower tone, "though if it was up to me, they'd throw away the key and let him starve in there." The retired Auror got to his feet. "Well, I'd better get back - what time's that potion wear off again, three?"

"That's what they said."

"All right, we'll be ready to transport him around then." Without further ado, Moody Disapparated.

"So, we've had Moody, and before him we had Dumbledore and McGonagall and Hagrid," Sirius said, ticking them off on his fingers. "After Dumbledore Fawkes-ed us..."

Aletha giggled. "If you weren't a pureblood, I'd say that was a Muggle joke."

"Well, I married a Muggle-born, and I've been living like a Muggle for nearly nine years, so yes, as it happens, that was a Muggle joke." Sirius swept his wife off her feet and twirled her around once before putting her down. "Never thought I'd see McGonagall cry. And Hagrid - it's a good thing he carries his own handkerchiefs, no one else's would be big enough for him..."

"And Dumbledore brought us this," Aletha said, picking up the copy of the special edition of the Daily Prophet, with the enormous headline:

SIRIUS BLACK INNOCENT!

"And apparently some random witch or other got filthy rich off this, because she thought to bring a camera to the trial, and got a picture of Wormtail, and one of me hugging the cubs, and since Dumbledore wouldn't let any newshounds in the courtroom, the Prophet paid top Galleon for them." Sirius blinked back tears at the sight of the picture, of his own ecstatic face, and Harry's...

"We owe a lot to Dumbledore," Aletha said softly. "He got the Wizengamot to agree to try us today, and together, so we could all be cleared at the same time - he kept us out of Azkaban, you know it's standard procedure to send prisoners there before their trials - he was the one who made sure you even got a trial."

"I know." And there's probably nothing I can ever do to repay him...

But he won't care. He doesn't, as long as everything comes out all right.

He looked over Aletha's shoulder into the den room, where Harry was telling the story over again to Remus and Danger, with Hermione and Draco correcting him every few words, until he snapped something at them and they both shut up, looking chastised.

And the cubs went and formed a new Pack. With Harry as the alpha.

And they swore that oath - which we have reason to know is damn potent -

I hope Molly and Arthur believe us, I'd hate to lose them as friends, and it might be dangerous to Ron and Ginny to keep them apart from our four now that they've sworn...

The Floo chimed from the music room.

"My, we're just so popular today," Aletha said with a little laugh. "I wonder who this could be?"

"Hello, Mrs. Black," said Luna Lovegood as she came into the kitchen. "Hello, Mr. Black. Is Draco here?"

Draco appeared in the door to the den room. "Hi, Luna," he said, looking a little shy but very pleased to see her.

Luna cocked her head to one side, studying Draco. "I like you better this way," she said finally.

"I'm glad. This is how I really look." Draco looked beyond her. "Hi, Mr. Lovegood."

"Gerald," Aletha greeted the man with a smile as Luna crossed the room and followed Draco back into the den room, from whence erupted a great deal of squealing as, Sirius assumed, Hermione and Meghan greeted Luna. "Thank you for coming."

"You're welcome." Gerald gave Sirius a long, searching look. "So you're Sirius Black," he said finally.

"Yes."

Remus and Danger came into the kitchen, Danger sitting down at the table, Remus standing behind her, leaning slightly on the back of her chair.

"And - Remus," Gerald said, turning to him. "Remus - Lupin, was it?"

"It was."

"Not brothers, then."

"Not by blood," Remus said. "But we've been through a lot together."

"I can only imagine." Gerald looked around at the Pack. "I came to tell you that I do want to stay friends with you. You were wonderfully supportive after Anita - died - and I can't see that friendship changing over something as trivial as names. And, as you said, there are the children to consider. Luna's become great friends with your Drake - no, it's Draco, isn't it? Draco Malfoy?"

"Don't call him Malfoy to his face," Danger warned. "He really hates that name. And he is legally a Black."

"Of all the places people have speculated he might be, this is one I doubt anyone ever thought of." Gerald smiled slightly. "What a story it would make - exclusive interview with Sirius Black and his sons, Draco Black and Harry Potter - but I know you didn't want to be bothered - "

"And you're not bothering us, are you?" Sirius said, feeling an urge to do something unexpected. "Harry?" he called into the other room.

"What?" floated back.

"Run upstairs and get my DictaQuill and some parchment?"

"All right."

"Have a seat," Sirius said to Gerald, who looked surprised and very pleased. "And think of some good questions."

The Floo chimed again. "I hope that's the Weasleys," Remus said.

Ginny came dashing into the kitchen and looked expectantly at the adults. At least three of them pointed to the other door, and she disappeared through it, to be greeted with excited feminine sounds resembling small dogs being stepped on. Ron stopped short of the second door, looking a bit dismayed by the noises on the other side, and his father and mother arrived in the kitchen before he got up the courage to go through it.

"So," Molly Weasley said, looking straight at Sirius, who got quickly to his feet. "Sirius Black."

"Yes, ma'am," Sirius said respectfully. She was advancing on him, he noticed, as he began backing up almost involuntarily.

"You've been lying to us for three years."

"Yes, ma'am, I'm afraid so."

She was getting closer.

"And you're not a dangerous criminal."

"I certainly hope not."

"Well, then." She was right in his face, and Sirius realized he'd backed into the refrigerator. "I'm going to punish you right now for all the lies you've ever told us."

She flung an arm around his neck, dragged his face down to hers, and kissed him on the lips.

When she let him go, Sirius was fairly sure his eyes were crossed. He knew for a fact he was smiling like an idiot. "Arthur," he said dreamily, "you're a very lucky man."

Then she slapped him.

"All right, that's more like what I was expecting." Sirius rubbed his face.

"If you ever," Molly shook her finger in his face, "lie to me about anything again, Sirius Black, you will regret it until your dying day. Is that understood?"

"Yes, ma'am." Sirius saluted her.

He looked around. Harry was standing by the door, next to Ron. They had identical expressions of mingled confusion, disgust, and horror on their faces. The adults looked highly amused.

"I got what you wanted, Padfoot," Harry said hastily, crossing the room quickly and depositing the items on the table. "C'mon, Ron, let's go upstairs."

Ron nodded fervently, and the boys vacated the premises.

Sirius pulled out his wand and activated the DictaQuill. "Gerald Lovegood, interviewing Sirius Black, 24 December 1990," he said into it. "Gerald, say something so it picks up your voice pattern."

"That was the funniest thing I think I've ever seen," Gerald said, ostensibly towards the quill, but with his eyes fixed on Sirius.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Not quite what I was hoping for, but it should do." He balanced the quill on the parchment and sat back. "Go ahead, whenever you're ready."

----------

"Ron, is something wrong?" Draco asked, breaking off his conversation with Luna.

"Not really."

"Yes, there is," Draco said with certainty. "You keep looking out the window and sighing. You only do that when something's bothering you."

Ron got very interested in his fingernails.

"Come on, Ron, spit it out," Hermione said.

"Youdonthavetobefriendswithme," Ron mumbled very fast.

"What?" Harry asked.

"You don't have to be friends with me," Ron repeated, still looking down. "Not if you don't want to."

The cubs looked at each other, confused. "Why wouldn't we want to?" Hermione asked finally.

"Because - " Ron looked up. "You're famous. Well, maybe not you, Neenie, but you will be. You're Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy - "

"That's not my name."

"Fine, Draco Black's sister. And Draco - you're The Boy Who Disappeared - and Harry - " Ron sighed. "You're all special. And famous. And I'm... I'm nobody. I'm just another Weasley. So you don't have to be my friend."

"That still doesn't answer the question," Harry said. "Why wouldn't we want to be your friend?"

"You could be friends with anybody," said Ron, now staring at the wall. "Anybody you want to. We're - well - poor." He said it almost defiantly. "And I'm stupid, and I'm not good at anything. So you don't have to be my friend anymore."

"Do you not want to be our friend?" Neenie asked.

"No! I mean... of course I want to be your friend - anyone would want to be friends with you - "

"Ron, you said we could be friends with anybody," Harry said. "Anybody we want to."

"You could. You can."

"All right." Hermione and Draco, sensing Harry's trend, began to close in. "We can be friends with anybody we want to be friends with, you said so yourself." They were surrounding Ron now. "And we want to be friends with you."

Ron looked up to find he was facing a solid wall of conviction. It was written on three faces and carved in the set of three pairs of folded arms.

Ginny, Luna, and Meghan developed a quiet case of the giggles.

"You... do?"

Three heads nodded solemnly.

Ron looked as if he couldn't believe his luck.

"You're my best friend," Harry said earnestly. "Just because my skin color changed, that didn't. I hope?"

"No. No, it didn't change... I'm your best friend? What about Drake - sorry, Draco?"

"He's my brother," Harry said, making a face in Draco's direction. It was returned with interest. "Are you best friends with your brothers?"

"No, but they're not the same age as me."

"Doesn't matter. He's still not my best friend. You are." Harry stuck out his hand. "Hi, I'm Harry Potter, nice to meet you."

Ron grinned and took the offered hand. "Ron Weasley."

They shook.

"You know, that's the first time I've ever told anyone my real name," Harry said thoughtfully. "It's... kind of nice. Not to be hiding."

"And we never have to hide again," Meghan said with a blissful sigh.

"You will not hide with changed names," Luna said dreamily. "But you will find a hiding place in your home away from home. Remember, by the place of your father's servant, to thank those who gave your mother her gifts."

Draco looked at her. "Luna, I like you," he said, shaking his head, "but there are days when you don't make sense."

"You're perfect for each other," Harry said, and took off running before Draco could catch him.

Life at the Den was back to normal.

----------

Chapter 47: Gifts

Danger woke up slowly and luxuriously, allowing the dual blessings of Christmas and freedom to flow through her mind.

Then she opened her eyes.

Draco's head was floating without visible support in midair a few feet away, smiling at her. "Happy Christmas," the head said cheerily.

Danger screamed, waking the rest of the Pack instantly. Sirius took one look, got to his feet, and took a hold of where Draco's shoulders should have been - where they were, Danger realized with a rush of relief, as Sirius pulled something silvery off the boy's body.

"What," she demanded shakily, shooting a mental Don't even start in Remus' direction, "is that?"

"An Invisibility Cloak," Sirius said, shaking it out and looking at it. "Draco, where did you get this?"

"It was under the tree."

"And was it addressed to you?" Remus asked warningly.

Draco looked sheepish. "No," he said quietly. "But a corner of the paper got torn and it looked really neat and I kind of opened it by accident."

"You kind of opened it by accident," Danger repeated. "And then you scared the life out of me. Don't EVER do that again, young man, or you will be spending three weeks doing all the dishes around here. Is that clear?"

Draco nodded quickly. Danger winked at him, and he made a face back. Good, there's obviously no hard feelings.

"So who is it for?" Aletha asked.

"Let me look." Sirius bent down, searching among the torn wrappings, and Danger watched in fascination as parts of his legs seemed to disappear when the cloak covered them. "Uh-huh, that's what I thought."

"Harry?" Remus asked with a knowing smile.

Sirius nodded. "Harry."

"For me?" Harry stared at the cloak as Sirius placed it in his arms.

"And I bet it's from Dumbledore," Remus continued. "Right?"

"Handwriting looks like his. Ah, here's the note." Sirius read it out loud. "'Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well. A Very Happy Christmas to you.'"

"Sounds Dumbledorean," Aletha said. "James had an Invisibility Cloak?"

"Oh yes." Sirius grinned. "How else do you think we got into the Slytherin common room all those times?"

Harry was experimenting with making different parts of himself and Hermione disappear. Meghan had vanished completely.

This is all they needed, Danger complained silently. More incentive to make trouble.

Love, they would have got into trouble anyway. The Cloak just might help them not get caught.

Well, all right. But if they do, you're dealing with it.

I'll remember that.

So what did you want for Christmas? Danger slid onto Remus' lap.

Remus wrapped his arms around her and looked down at her warmly. I wanted to see your eyes looking into mine again.

Hmm, eyes. Wonder if we have any of those hanging around...

Further conversation was irrelevant for a time.

----------

The Pack had Christmas dinner with Dumbledore, McGonagall, Hagrid - who took up one of the short ends of the table all by himself - and Amy Freeman.

"A toast," Remus proposed, holding his glass high. "To old friends and new freedoms."

"Here, here," everyone answered.

After dinner, Hagrid announced he had a present for the cubs. "It's fer all o' yeh," he said, displaying the large, domed object, which was covered with a cloth. "Yeh'll have ter share it. Kin anyone guess?"

The room was quiet. Then, suddenly, from beneath the cloth, a soft noise emerged - who, who, who?

"An owl!" Harry exclaimed as Hagrid whipped the cloth away.

"Oh, it's beautiful!" Hermione cried in delight at the sight of the large snowy owl, sitting serenely on its perch. "Is it a boy or a girl?"

"She's a girl," Hagrid said, giving the cage to Draco. "Now yeh don' have an excuse not ter write yer sister while yer away at school."

"That's right," Meghan said smugly, sticking her finger into the cage and stroking the owl's feathers. "Because she's part mine too. Ow!" She pulled back, looking affronted. "She bit me!"

"Tha' means she likes yeh," Hagrid said with a grin as the adults chuckled.

----------

Danger was in the kitchen that evening setting up her new table loom - a joint gift from the other women of the Pack - when she heard a faint buzzing sound.

Must be a bug in here. She picked up an old copy of the Daily Prophet and rolled it into a cylinder, eyeing the walls carefully. Ah, there it is.

The beetle was clinging to the wall near the window. It was rather large, hard to miss once you'd noticed it. Danger walked casually over to the cabinet nearest the window, keeping her eyes averted from the thing, then in one quick motion pivoted and struck.

The beetle slid to the floor, looking decidedly worse for wear. Danger scooped it up with the newspaper, opened the window, and tossed it out into the snow. Closing the window, she dusted off her hands and went back to her work.

----------

"I think I'm going to be sick," Draco said nervously the next day.

Aletha hugged him. "You're not going to be sick. You're not allowed. Understand?" Draco smiled weakly at her. "Everything's going to be all right, you know that."

"But what if I mess up and say something really awful?"

"Then you'll be embarrassed. Has to happen sometime."

Harry was fussing with his hair. "Give it up, Harry," Remus advised, coming up behind him. "It never worked with James, it won't work with you."

"But he didn't have a stupid scar on his forehead."

"Don't bother trying to hide it," Sirius said with a sigh. "They're all going to want to see it anyway. Probably want to take pictures of it."

"I don't want them to take pictures of it!"

"Fine, then they won't," Danger said firmly. "We won't let them."

"And even if they do," Aletha added, "the Harry in the photo will know you didn't want that picture taken, and he'll run off. That's one way magical pictures are easier on the people being photographed than Muggle ones are."

"Showtime, everyone," Remus said, looking at his watch. "Let's go."

We are lucky we're not Muggles, Danger commented as the Pack entered the Great Hall. Then there'd be thirty or so of them, instead of just eight.

Isn't there someone missing? Remus looked over the rather conservatively-clad reporters. Oh, never mind. Every person not here is another person who can't bother us.

"Thank you for coming, ladies and gentlemen," he said aloud as the Pack seated themselves at the small table which was waiting for them. A flash or two went off. "A few ground rules before we begin - please be polite and don't all shout at once. We can't answer anything if we can't understand you. We will try to take all your questions, but if the children start to get tired or unhappy we will leave. And that includes if you start badgering them. After today, we will not be giving any more interviews unless we feel like it, so please don't ask. And if you come to our home or harass us in any way, we will take legal action. Are we quite clear?"

A subdued, affirmative murmur answered him.

"Good. Thank you. Then we're ready to begin. You, sir, we'll start with you." Remus pointed to a small, sandy-haired man with a neat goatee in the front row of chairs.

"James Scriven," the reporter introduced himself, standing up. "This question is for Mr. Black - what are you going to do now?"

"The same thing I've been doing for the last eight years," Sirius said promptly. "Live my life and enjoy it. The only difference is, now I don't have to be looking over my shoulder every few seconds."

The reporter chuckled. "No special celebrations of any kind?"

"We might go on vacation somewhere," Sirius allowed, "but we haven't decided yet. It's the children's last year at home before Hogwarts, so we want to spend this time together."

Scriven nodded and sat down. A dark-haired woman popped up.

"Mary Clark," she said. "Mr. Potter, how does life with your godfather compare to life somewhere else?"

"I don't know," Harry said. "I don't ever remember living anywhere else."

"You don't remember your aunt and uncle's house, or your parents?"

"I wasn't even two," Harry said with a touch of scorn. "But I do know about my parents, and that they loved me very much."

"And do you like living with your godfather?"

Harry nodded firmly. "Yes, ma'am."

"All right, thank you."

"Adam Bartleby." A heavyset, confident looking man. "Mr. Malfoy - "

"I'm sorry, who?" Remus said politely.

"Mr. Malfoy. The blond kid with the funny look on his face."

Draco was scowling at the man.

"That 'funny look', as you call it," Danger said coolly, "is because you've just insulted him."

Bartleby stared. "Insulted him? By using his name?"

"It's not my name," Draco said angrily, standing up. "My name is Draco Black. Either call me that or leave me alone. I haven't been a Malfoy since before I was four years old, and I don't want to be."

"All right, then," Bartleby said, looking a bit bemused. "Thank you, Mr. Black. Sorry to have offended you."

Draco sat down, slightly flushed. Harry high-fived him under the table.

The questions continued for about an hour and a half. Most of them, predictably, were funneled towards Sirius, Harry, and Draco, but Aletha and Meghan came in for their fair share, and Remus and Danger fielded a few. Most of the ones for Hermione were in the same vein: "So what's it like living with The Boy Who Lived and The Boy Who Disappeared?"

"Annoying," was her glib answer. "They leave dirty clothes lying around all the time and they squeeze the toothpaste out of the middle of the tube and they don't do their chores, so I get stuck with them." The reporters enjoyed this. One, though, was a little different.

"Miss Granger," said Adam Bartleby, standing up again. "I understand you're Muggleborn."

"Yes, sir."

"And Mrs. Granger-Lupin is your older sister."

"That's right."

"How do you think your parents would feel about you being raised in such an odd kind of a household, mostly with people who aren't related to you in any way?"

Hermione glanced quickly at Remus. "I don't know, sir," she said. "You see, my parents are dead."

"Yes, I know that, but if they were alive - "

"If they were alive, I'd be living with them," Hermione interrupted politely, "so it wouldn't be a problem."

"Yes, but that's not the point - "

Danger rose. "Mr. Bartleby, I think my parents would be proud of how their baby girl turned out," she said crisply. "I certainly am. Hermione's a wonderful, loving, intelligent girl and she's very happy where she is. Are you trying to ask if our family situation would have been in some way unacceptable to my parents? If so, I suggest you ask me, since Hermione never had a chance to know them."

"All right, Mrs. Granger-Lupin, do you think your parents would have approved of where you've taken your life - and your sister?"

"Absolutely. They always told me the most important thing in life was to find true friends, people you could be yourself with. I am more myself today than I ever was, and I owe it all to these seven people around me. One of my greatest regrets is that my parents never got to meet Remus, or Sirius and Aletha, or our children. I can say without fear of being wrong that they would have loved them all."

"Thank you," Bartleby said after a short pause.

----------

When the reporters were finally satisfied, the Pack regrouped in the kitchens and allowed the house-elves to fuss over them, getting them each exactly what they wanted to eat.

"I just realized who was missing," Remus said halfway through lunch. "Rita Skeeter. She was at the trial, with the blonde hair and the bright blue robes. She's opportunistic to the core, she'd never miss something like this - "

"Sir?" said Kady the house elf, tugging at Remus' sleeve. "Rita Skeeter was being in the newspaper this morning, sir. Dobby is seeing it when Dobby is bringing Professor Dumbledore his newspaper, because Professor Dumbledore is laughing at it very hard indeed, and then Dobby is telling us all about it, sir."

"So why was Rita Skeeter in the paper?" Danger asked, surrendering to the role of straight man. Or woman, as the case might be.

"Rita Skeeter is being in the hospital, ma'am, for having a broken leg and three crushed ribs and a concussion."

"Ouch," Sirius said with a wince. "Wonder what hit her."

"She is saying it was a newspaper," Kady said with a puzzled look. "But newspapers is not hurting people like that."

Aletha shrugged. "She's probably confused from the concussion. Maybe she means a newspaper truck."

"Who knows," Danger said. "May I have some more tea, please, Kady?"

----------

The media furor died down somewhat after the interviews were published, and after Adam Bartleby tried staking out the Den and got chased away by a large black dog, which the Pack said they didn't own and had never seen before.

Gerald reported an incredible rise in sales when the January issue of The Quibbler came out, with its cover photo of the Pack out sledding on the hill near the Den, and the headline "Sirius Black at Home - An Exclusive Interview with the Man Himself and His Family".

"It's probably because you know us, so you knew what kinds of questions to ask," Aletha said one evening at the Den, wincing at a particularly loud thump from overhead.

"IF THE CEILING CAVES IN, YOU'VE ONLY YOURSELVES TO BLAME!" Molly Weasley shouted up the stairs.

"Everyone else is working from the 'Sirius Black, terrible criminal' idea," Remus said. "But you knew us as friends first. So that was helpful."

"People still point when I go out," Sirius said with a sigh. "It helped that I got rid of the beard. Now I'm not instantly recognizable, it takes them a moment. But once they figure it out, they still whisper and try to look like they're not looking, if they're polite, or they just plain stare if they're not."

"Probably going to be that way for a while," Danger said realistically. "It takes people time to get used to new ideas."

"I can think of one thing that may help," said Arthur. "An official guilty ruling on Pettigrew. His trial's coming up next week, isn't it?"

Sirius groaned theatrically. "Don't remind me. I know I have to testify, but I'm not sure I can look at his ugly little face without wanting to strangle him."

Aletha leaned over and whispered something in his ear, following up with a light kiss. Sirius' face cleared. "I'll manage, though," he said, smiling gratefully at his wife. "It's what we do best."

----------

Peter Pettigrew was tried on 24 January by a jury of his peers. The deliberations took only twenty-seven minutes, and the verdict was guilty on all counts.

"The maximum sentence for crimes as heinous as these is the Dementor's Kiss," Amelia Bones said, speaking to a packed courtroom. "However, Sirius Black has prepared a statement regarding the sentencing of Peter Pettigrew, which he wishes to present at this time. Mr. Black?"

Sirius stood up. He was wearing conservative robes of a deep burgundy, and his hair was in slight disarray on purpose, since he knew he'd probably run his hands through it anyway without thinking about it. The rest of the Pack was also present, even the cubs, which had been a difficult decision to make, but in the end, the adults had decided it would give everyone a sense of closure. Besides, Harry and Draco had enjoyed watching Wormtail squirm as he had to admit to his crimes. I raised some bloodthirsty boys, didn't I? I'm sorry, Lily, Narcy, don't be too hard on me, they are boys after all.

Hermione had watched the proceedings from the shelter of Remus' arm, with a serenity Sirius found disturbingly familiar. Letha's rubbing off on her. I hope Danger's right and her parents would approve of their little girl...

And Meghan had been very quiet, but when Sirius got a look at her face, he was startled by the amount of anger displayed there. His daughter knew very well indeed who was responsible for the circumstances of her first seven years of life.

Sounds like an opening line to me.

"Peter," he said, turning to Aletha and holding out his arms for Meghan, who was still just small enough to be picked up. "This is my daughter, Meghan Lily. I want you to take a good look at her." He paused, and a ripple of laughter went through the court as Meghan stuck out her tongue at Peter, who was staring at Sirius looking confused.

"If my life had gone the way I thought it was going to go, you would already know Meghan," Sirius continued, shifting the girl's weight to his other arm. "You would have been part of her life, perhaps her Uncle Peter or something similar. You would have watched her grow up and become this lovely young lady. But my life didn't go the way I thought it would. None of our lives did. One life, in particular, is different because of you."

Sirius paused to let Harry join him, that line having been the boy's cue. "You remember Harry, Peter." It wasn't a question. "You remember how happy we all were when he was born. I say we because you were happy too. Or at least you acted happy. I can never think of that time without wondering; were you a spy yet? Had you made your big decision? Did you report on our celebrations for Harry's birth to Lord Voldemort?"

Sirius had to stop as the reaction swept the courtroom. When it was quiet again, he went on. "James and Lily Potter, Harry's parents, are dead because of you, Peter. Twelve innocent people, who had never heard of the war or had anything to do with it, are dead at your hand. That's fourteen lives on your conscience. I wouldn't want to be you. How did you sleep all those years?"

"Badly," Peter squeaked out, causing far more laughter than Meghan had. Sirius waited it out.

"You have fourteen lives on your conscience," he repeated when the court had settled down. "And I have none. I'd like to keep it that way. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I ask that you sentence this man, Peter Pettigrew, to life imprisonment in Azkaban, so that my family and I can get on with our lives."

Sirius didn't flinch as two or three camera flashes went off in his direction. It's a perfect photo-op - Sirius Black, daughter, and godson - which is partly why I set it up this way, might as well pose for the photographs if they're going to take them anyway...

The jury took only five minutes deciding - Peter Pettigrew would spend the rest of his natural life in Azkaban.

I don't believe him. He actually looks happy about it. Sirius shook his head and held Meghan closer as two dementors entered the courtroom to take the rat away.

"No one ever said he was smart," Aletha murmured in his ear.

"Are you reading my mind?"

"No, I'm reading your face. You were brilliant, Sirius." She embraced him and Meghan at the same time. "And now it's really over."

"Nice one, mangy mutt," Danger said with a smile, punching him gently on the shoulder.

"Good work, Padfoot," Remus said quietly. "I think James and Lily would have approved."

"I hope they do," Sirius said. "Somewhere."

----------

The Pack was pulled away from their breakfast on 14 February by an immensely loud motor gunning outside their front door.

"Happy birthday, Sirius!" Hagrid's voice called across the yard. The grinning gamekeeper was standing beside a gleaming motorcycle.

"And where has this been all this time?" Sirius demanded, running his hand lovingly across the handlebars.

"Here'n'there," Hagrid said vaguely. "S'in good condition, though, I checked it out fer yeh."

"Thanks." Sirius pulled out his wand and pointed it at the seat. "Open in the name of the ignoble and most youthful scion!" he intoned.

The seat popped up, and something shot into the air, growing as it described a beautiful parabolic arc through the chill air. Sirius nonchalantly put his wand away and held out his hands, and the helmet fell into them with a plop.

"And if you only knew how long he had to practice to get that right," Remus said. "And how many times he dropped it."

"Oh, you're a big help to my self-esteem."

"Your self-esteem doesn't need any help, trust me."

"Who wants to go for a ride?" Sirius asked the cubs. The boys and Meghan volunteered immediately, and Neenie added her hand after a moment of hesitancy.

"I'm thinking of a number between one and ten," Aletha said quickly.

Harry guessed seven, Draco six, Meghan four and Hermione two. "It was eight, Harry goes first," Aletha said.

"All right!" Harry let Sirius conjure a helmet for him (and a coat, since he'd come outside without his), then climbed onto the back seat of the cycle and allowed himself to be magically affixed there so he wouldn't fall. As Sirius climbed aboard, Harry felt an odd sensation of déjà vu, as if he'd done this before, a long time ago...

"The funny thing is, you have ridden it before," Sirius said later when Harry asked. "But it wasn't me driving it - Lily would never let me take you up. It was Hagrid."

"He used it to take you to your aunt and uncle's house," Remus put in. "But you can't possibly remember, you were only a baby..."

"It wasn't really remembering," Harry said, accepting a piece of the birthday cake, which he'd helped Danger to bake. "It was just a feeling."

"Well, just a feeling works for me," Sirius said. "Now what's this big surprise you three have been so darned secretive about for two weeks?" he asked the other Pack-parents.

"We're going to get you off the hook with the Ministry permanently," Danger said, smiling smugly.

"I'm sorry?"

"You're still an unregistered Animagus," Aletha pointed out. "And that is still illegal. So we're going to give you a cover story."

"We've started studying to become Animagi ourselves," Remus finished. "And when we go and register, you'll come along, and then we'll all be legal together. Sound good?"

Sirius nodded. "Sounds excellent."

"And then when we get to be thirteen, you can teach us," Harry said.

All four Pack-parents turned to stare at him. "And where did you get that idea?" Sirius said, folding his arms.

"You were thirteen when you started learning," Hermione said reasonably. "So we should be able to start when we're thirteen."

"And because you'll be helping us, we'll be able to do it faster than you did," Draco said. "So we could be Animagi by the time we're fourth years."

"No, you couldn't," Remus said firmly. "Because it's illegal and dangerous, and we're not going to teach you how."

"Then we'll do it ourselves," Harry countered. "The way Padfoot and Prongs did."

"And the worst of it is, they will, too," Sirius said ruefully. "Why does anyone have children?"

"Because you love us?" Meghan suggested.

"That's debatable at the moment." Sirius looked at Aletha and Danger, who were obviously amused by this turn in the conversation. "Help here, ladies?"

"No chance," Aletha said with a smile. "You brought this one on yourself, Sirius."

"Danger?"

"There's always the possibility of Dark wizards targeting them," Danger said thoughtfully. "It might be useful for them to have a skill no one knows about."

"Whose side are you on?" Sirius turned to Remus. "You're my only hope," he said pleadingly.

"That's sad." Remus shook his head. "I can't fault their logic, Sirius. They can and probably will try it themselves. If we guide them, there's that much less chance of something going wrong. Maybe it makes me a pushover, but in this case I think they've got us beat."

The cubs grinned at each other.

Sirius threw up his hands. "All right. I concede."

"Swear to teach us?" Harry asked, seizing the opportunity. "Marauder's honor?"

"If you swear, Marauder's honor, not to use your forms for trouble-making," Remus said sternly. "Do we have a deal?"

Harry looked at Hermione, Draco, and Meghan, then turned back to the man and nodded. "Deal."

The two alphas shook on their bargain.

----------

February ended and March began, with Ron's birthday and his Hogwarts letter arriving. The cubs celebrated by spending the entire day out flying and telling each other tall tales of what they would do and be when they got to school. Everyone's favorite was Ron's: "I'll be Head Boy - and Quidditch Captain - and a great prankster - and get a Special Award - and - and - everything!"

The month, which had come in proverbially like a lamb, continued in the same vein, and Remus' thirty-second birthday dawned clear and fine.

And that means it goes out like me. Remus chuckled to himself as he got dressed. Who in the world would have expected that as my Animagus form. He, Danger, and Aletha had performed the first portion of the spell, which was scrying for one's form, only a few days before. Aletha had been unsurprised to discover she should eventually be able to turn into a winged horse, and Danger - of all things - would be able to become a wolf.

Maybe we should be the Pride, now, instead of the Pack... we'd still have cubs either way...

He was debating that back and forth with himself when someone knocked on his bedroom door.

"Come in."

It was Neenie, clutching an envelope and looking nervous but very happy. "Happy birthday, Moony," she blurted as soon as she'd shut the door behind her.

"Thank you, Kitten. Is that for me?"

Hermione nodded, but didn't hand him the envelope. "I have to explain first," she said.

"Go ahead, then." Remus sat down on the bed and patted the spot beside him.

"I started thinking at Christmas," Hermione said, climbing up beside him. "When the reporter was so interested in Draco's name, and then asking about me and how I'm not related to anyone except Danger. It made me think. I never knew my dad. You're my dad, really, Moony. And you're a great dad. But nobody else knows about it. And that isn't right. The whole world should know."

"Are you going to tell them?" Remus asked jokingly. "Take out an ad in the Prophet, or owl everyone in the world?"

Neenie shook her head. "Better." She handed him the envelope. "Happy birthday."

And I want you to know, this was not my idea, Danger said in his head. I helped with the execution. Nothing more.

I'm getting worried here.

Don't be. You'll love it. She closed the connection.

Remus opened the envelope and pulled out the parchments within.

He had to read them three times before he understood.

"Kitten," he said in a whisper. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

Hermione nodded eagerly.

He swept her into a hug. "This is the best birthday present I've ever had," he told her, holding her close. "I love you so very much."

The best present? Danger asked lazily. Really now?

Let's not argue, please. Not today. Not after this.

As you like. He could feel the humor rising from her tone. But I'll get you for it later.

Remus wiped his eyes, which were annoyingly damp, and led Hermione out of the bedroom and down to the kitchen. "Ladies and gentlemen," he announced to the rest of the Pack. "I would like to introduce you to a very special young lady."

Sirius and Aletha, obviously not in on the secret, looked quizzical, as did the cubs. Danger was smiling.

"Miss Hermione Jane Granger-Lupin."

It took a moment before anyone got it.

"Granger-Lupin?" Sirius asked finally, just as Harry made a small noise of understanding and Aletha's face lit up in comprehension.

"She's changed her name," Danger said, beaming. "Legally. It was her own idea."

"And a wonderful one, I think," Aletha said happily, hugging the girl.

"Now we're all Marauders," Meghan announced. "All Potters, Blacks, and Lupins."

"And you know what that means," Remus said, grinning as the realization hit him.

"What?" everyone asked, not quite in unison, but it was close.

"Think of Severus Snape's face when he gets a look at his class roster."

The Pack didn't stop laughing at this image for nearly ten minutes.