"You know you don't have to go back, if you don't want to," Harry
reminded Cain for the dozenth time.
The werewolf offered him a wan smile as he continued packing his
trunk.
The Christmas holidays had finally arrived at Durmstrang, and as
ever, most had opted to return home for the duration of the festive
period, Cain included.
"I do," he sighed. "I need to know why they didn't come, Harry."
Harry patted him on the shoulder as he nodded his understanding.
"Well, my offer always stands," he said sincerely. "If you need a way
out of there, you'll always have a place with me."
After everything that had happened and what Cain had almost done
to all three of his roommates, he was so incredibly touched by the
sentiment.
None had held it against him and had even protected him from the
backlash of the rest of the school who demanded to know every
detail which led to him transforming outside of the full moon.
As ever, it had been Harry who had gotten him through the difficulty
he had faced, who had protected him as his own parents should
have.
It wasn't always easy being friends with Harry Potter. He tended to
overshadow you without much effort on his part but living in his
shadow and under his protection was not such a bad place to be.
"So, when were you going to tell us about you and Zabini?"
Harry choked on his response, and Cain grinned at the other boy.
"I have no idea what you are talking about," Harry denied.
Cain released a deep sigh and shook his head disappointedly.
"I'm a werewolf," he pointed. "I can smell her all over you. You've
been rutting like animals in heat for weeks now."
Evidently, Harry saw no way to deny it any longer.
"Bloody hell, do the others know?"
Cain shrugged.
"I've not said a word, but I bet the elf and the vampire do," he replied
with a shrug. "Ana will be able to sense Zabini all over you, and
Lucinda, well, she has a keen sense of smell too, doesn't she?"
Harry frowned as his cheeks reddened slightly and Cain clapped him
on the shoulder.
"Maybe try showering when you're done," he suggested. "I love you,
Harry, but I don't need to know what you and she have been getting
up to."
Harry placed his lowered his embarrassment.
"Why didn't you say anything before now?" he groaned.
"It was funny that you thought you had a secret," Cain snorted.
"Anyway, for what it is it worth, you're a lucky bastard. Zabini is, well,
you know."
Harry could only shake his head.
"What do I say to the others?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, if they ask, what do I tell them?"
"To mind their own business," Cain answered simply. "It's got nothing
to do with them what you do and who with. It's like when they found
out about you and the Greengrass girl, they all acted like you'd
spurned them. It was quite pathetic really. You can't not enjoy
yourself because it might hurt someone's feelings, especially people
who are supposed to be your friends. Have any of them told you that
they're interested in you like that?"
Harry shook his head.
"Then you have no reason to feel bad or hide what you are doing,"
Cain huffed. "If they want a piece of you, isn't up to them to make
that clear?"
"You make it sound so seedy," Harry muttered.
Cain smirked in response.
"I'm a wolf, Harry," he pointed out. "Yes, I may find a mate at some
point, but monogamy is not really in my nature. It's different for those
that were marred before being turned. They somehow retain that
level of commitment. Me, I will probably never develop feelings that
deeply."
"So, you will spend your life rutting like a wolf, as you so elegantly
put it?"
"Maybe," Cain answered with a shrug. "Anyway, all three of the girls
act as though you belong to them in their own way."
"Viktor said something similar," Harry replied with a frown.
"He's not wrong," Cain sighed. "There are plenty of girls here
interested in you, they're just too scared to speak with you, let alone
anything else."
"Come off it," Harry snorted.
Cain offered him a pointed look.
"Listen, I've heard some of the comments made about you,
especially in the duelling room when people think they can't be
overheard. Even the purebloods girls. Honestly, if you knew what
was said by some of them…"
"Bloody hell," Harry muttered to himself.
Cain chuckled amusedly.
"I'll leave you with that," he declared. "Have a good Christmas."
"You too," Harry returned as he began packing his own trunk, his
thoughts now consumed by the conversation he'd shared with Cain.
He had been feeling bad for sneaking off with Alessia, and not
mentioning it to the others, but Cain and Viktor were right. In truth, it
was no one else's business what he did and with whom.
With that in mind, he finished his packing and readied himself for
some much-needed time away from the school.
As much as he would miss his friends, it had been two years since
he'd had Christmas with Cassie, and it would be the first one he was
going to be sharing with Sirius.
His godfather had been a man of his word.
Throughout the year thus far, Harry had received several letters from
Sirius, and even a few from Remus with them, and he had come to
look forward to hearing from the two men.
They were both funny in their own way, and always had stories to
share about their time at Hogwarts with his parents.
Somehow, even though he barely remembered James and Lily
Potter, hearing about them and what they were like at his age made
him feel closer to them, like he was now accumulating more
memories of the parents he had never gotten to know.
Harry appreciated it more than he could express, and he was looking
forward to hearing his godfather and the werewolf recount more tales
over the duration of the holidays.
"He's been with her again," Lucinda muttered as she closed her
trunk.
"Zabini?" Eleanor whispered.
Lucinda's nostrils flared as she nodded.
Eleanor offered her a sympathetic smile.
"It's hard enough for me to see it. I can't imagine how difficult it is for
you."
"For you?" Lucinda questioned.
Eleanor shrugged, a playful grin tugging at her lips.
"I can't say that I would complain if Harry wanted to give me that kind
of attention."
Lucinda grimaced before releasing a deep sigh.
"I don't know if it would be worse being you or her."
"I'd be worse than Zabini?"
"I didn't mean it like that," Lucinda assured the other girl. "It's just
that Zabini will be gone by the end of the year, and you'll still be
here. It would be hard to see you like that with him."
"Then I won't tell you if it happens," Eleanor responded with a smirk,
ducking as a laughing Lucinda threw a pillow at her.
"I think I'd rather it was you," the vampire decided. "At least you
wouldn't try to take him from me, even if we will only ever be friends."
"Is that what worries you about any other girl?"
Lucinda nodded.
"How many girls do you think would let Harry be friends with a
vampire, let alone one who has such complicated feelings about
him?"
"True," Eleanor conceded, "but the thing you should be asking is that
would Harry be with someone who would take his friends away?"
Lucinda smiled sadly.
"He adores you," Eleanor sighed. "If you could see it how the rest of
us do, you'd understand."
"Oh, I know he does," Lucinda snorted. "I can smell his hormones
reacting to me whenever I'm close and I'm not too stupid to see how
attentive he is to me, but will it last? Is it that he just wants me
physically even if he doesn't realise it yet?"
Eleanor shook her head.
"Why don't you talk to him about it?"
"Because I'm terrified," Lucinda admitted, "and I want him to figure it
out for himself. I don't want to push anything and then it goes wrong.
I can wait for whatever might happen between us. I have all the time
in the world for that."
"What about him being with other girls, even just physically?"
"I don't like it," Lucinda replied irritably, "but no human woman could
ever compare to a vampire in that way. If and when I get my chance
with him, no mortal will measure up."
"I don't know if I should be intrigued or disgusted," Eleanor replied. "I
suppose I'd best get there first then."
"Well, I could always go into details, if you wish?" Lucinda offered.
Eleanor shook her head.
"No, thank you," she answered firmly.
Lucinda shrugged in response.
"Your loss."
"What's her loss?" Harry asked as he joined them.
"Nothing," Lucinda answered airily. "Nothing at all."
They were looking at him with varying degrees of suspicion, many
evidently believing that he was indeed innocent of the crimes he had
been imprisoned for. For Sirius, this was the first time in many years
he had seen most of these people, or any people in fact.
Azkaban had been a lonely, miserable experience, and though he
was no longer a prisoner within the island fortress, he had still all but
traded one cell for another.
Grimmauld Place held too many unpleasant memories for him, and if
it weren't for Voldemort's impending rise to prominence, he would
perhaps have accepted Cassiopeia's offer of inhabiting one of the
other Black properties on the continent.
That was not to be, however.
He was needed here, for Harry, and to play his part in righting the
wrongs of the past.
Sirius wanted Wormtail.
More than anything else, he wanted to get the rat and make him pay
for what he had done.
He had dreamed of it for over a decade now, of having Wormtail at
his mercy, pleading for his pathetic life.
There would be no reprieve, not for him.
"Sirius, do you have anything you wish to add?" Dumbledore
questioned.
He shook his head in response.
"No."
"Then that will be all for this evening," Dumbledore announced.
"Elphias, if you hear of Lucius attempting to pressure anyone else,
do inform as quickly as you can."
"Of course," Doge acquiesced.
"I will call for you all again," Dumbledore said dismissively.
Sirius stood with the others and accompanied Remus to the fireplace
where they waited their turn to use the floo network.
When they arrived back in Grimmauld Place, it was not to the empty
study they had left only an hour prior.
Cassiopeia was waiting for them, her expression one he
remembered only too well from his childhood.
Even in her advancing years, the woman cut quite the terrifying
figure, and her gaze could still freeze any in their tracks.
"How was your meeting?" she asked.
"Meeting?" Sirius asked.
Cassiopeia nodded.
"You're a part of Dumbledore's not-so-secret-club, aren't you? Do not
lie to me, Sirius. I know all about The Order of the Phoenix."
"Are you a member?"
Sirius felt Remus roll his eyes at him.
"If she was a member, she would have been there, you idiot."
"Good point," Sirius conceded, falling silent as he caught sight of
Cassiopeia's glare.
"By all means, work with Dumbledore, if you must, but your loyalty is
to Harry. Do not forget that, boy."
"Of course my loyalty is Harry's!"
"And mine," Remus added.
Cassiopeia hummed.
"Good, because he will have so few allies by the time he returns. He
will need some that he can rely on."
Sirius nodded his understanding.
"He will have us," he assured her sincerely. "No matter what."
Cassiopeia merely nodded.
"Why don't you join the Order?" Remus asked.
Cassiopeia giggled, the very notion of doing so evidently proving to
be hilarious to the woman.
"The Order is not what will win the war, not with Dumbledore running
it," she replied frustratedly. "He is unwilling to do what is necessary,
and soon enough, you will find yourselves in a similar or worse state
than you were the last time around. Stunning spells and taking
prisoners is useless when you are facing an enemy that is trying to
kill you. It is an uneven battlefield and that will end in only one way;
lots of death of those you choose to fight with. Dumbledore clings on
to his morals, and all they have done is get others killed. Tell me,
how many of Voldemort's lot were eliminated during the last war."
Sirius shrugged, a frown creasing his brow.
"Not many," he admitted.
"And how many Order members gave their lives?"
"Too many," Remus sighed worriedly.
"And that is why you can't win this war," Cassiopeia sighed. "Harry
will win it though. He is willing to do what is needed, and more than
that, he wants to. He will not shy away from putting an end to his
enemies, and he will make them suffer for everything he has
endured because of them."
"You don't really expect him to fight in a war, do you?"
Cassiopeia shook her head.
"No. All I expect from him is that he will be a good lord for both the
Potter and Black families, but Harry expects it from himself. For
fifteen years he has carried what happened to his parents with him,
and he will not be satisfied, unless he puts an end to Voldemort
personally."
"That is not what James and Lily would want," Sirius grumbled.
"James and Lily are dead," Cassiopeia said bluntly, "and believe me,
if I had my way, I would keep Harry as far from all of this as possible,
but I have no right to do that. When the time comes, he will make his
way here, and Merlin help Voldemort and his followers. They do not
know it yet, but their fates are already sealed. He will do to them
what they have done; he will hunt them down, and he will make an
example of them."
"You sound almost proud of that," Remus muttered.
Cassiopeia nodded unashamedly.
"I am proud of the man I know my Harry will be," she declared. "He
will be as just as Charlus, but as ruthless as Arcturus with all the
magical ability both possessed, and so much more. His enemies will
fall, and he will rise. Mark my words, the name Harry Potter will be
remembered as one of the greatest to walk among us."
Sirius shared a look with Remus.
After such an impassioned speech, he found it all but impossible to
disbelieve.
"Better than Grindelwald?" he asked.
Cassiopeia's nostrils flared at his temerity, but she nodded without
hesitation.
"Harry will surpass both Gellert and Dumbledore."
The woman wore a knowing smirk, almost as though she had
knowledge that no other possessed.
That would not surprise Sirius.
Cassiopeia always seemed to know more than anyone else around
her.
"Harry will have my loyalty and my wand," he reiterated. "I shirked
my responsibility once, and that won't happen again. If necessary, I
will go to hell and back to make sure that kid comes out of this
alright."
His words were sincere, his tone unwavering, and he met the
penetrating gaze of Cassiopeia as hers bored into his.
After a moment, she nodded satisfactorily.
"I believe you," she replied simply before taking her leave of the
room.
Both Sirius and Remus remained silent for several moments before
the werewolf broke it with a deep sigh.
"Bloody hell, that was intense."
"It was," Sirius agreed.
However, he understood why, and though he had questioned her
motivation for taking Harry in when she had so little to gain from
doing so, Sirius had no doubt that she loved Harry more than she
had anyone else.
She had raised him, cared for him, and undoubtedly taught him
much of what he knew.
Cassiopeia Black had become something she had never intended to;
a parent, and though it had not changed her much as a person on
the surface, it had indeed changed her where it mattered most.
Harry was her priority, and she wanted nothing more than to see him
thrive and to live a life that had been taken from him before he was
truly able to appreciate it.
"Come on," Sirius murmured.
"To where?"
"To the library first, and then to the basement," he explained as he
left the study with Remus following suit. "If we are really going to
war, we need to be prepared. Dumbledore won't like it, but this could
be Harry's life weighing in the balance. I never thought I would say it,
but Cassiopeia is right."
Remus nodded his agreement.
"For Harry."
"And for James and Lily," Sirius added as he pushed the door open
to the library.
There would be little of use to the werewolf, and Sirius had avoided
this place for his entire life, but if there was ever a time to be here, it
was now when he would likely need it most.
He was a Black, after all, so perhaps it was time he truly lived up to
the name that he carried.
For Harry, he could do that.
He'd been back with the pack for but a day but already, Cain could
feel the mixture of emotion and tension amongst them. Both were
palpable and many were in a state of frenzy seldom seen in places
like this.
It was almost though there was a sense of hope in the air, though not
in a way that boded well for any.
It was the worst kept secret that Greyback planned to move them on
from their home, and Cain was no fool.
To move a pack as large as this would garner much attention, and
none of it good.
He regretted returning here. Wishing he had taken Harry up on his
offer, he reminded himself of why he had come.
He wanted answers.
He wanted to know why when he was on his deathbed, his parents
had not come to him.
Did he mean so little to his own mother and father now?
Not that he had been presented with an opportunity to speak with
them.
They had not been home when he'd arrived, and he simply could not
bring himself to look for them amongst the other emotional
werewolves.
Even from the house, he could hear the baying of the pack, the
inevitable fights that broke out, and the screams of those that dared
speak out against the evident plans as they were torn to shreds by
either Fenrir or the others.
It was not a good place to be, but here he was.
Cain needed answers and if truth be told, despite Harry's offer, a wolf
needed to belong to a pack.
Lone wolves did not fare well in a world that despised them.
"There you are," his mother admonished as she entered his room.
"Here I am," Cain echoed.
His mother frown at him.
"Why are you not with the rest of us?"
Cain snorted humourlessly.
"You mean watching them tear each other apart? No thanks, I'd
much rather stay out of it."
His mother was not pleased by the answer, her eyes flashing a
dangerous amber colour.
"Are you not a member of this pack?"
"You tell me," Cain chuckled darkly. "Aren't we supposed to look out
for one another?"
"Of course," his mother answered irritably.
"Then who was looking out for me when I was fucking dying?" Cain
spat, the days of anger and frustration he'd felt bubbling to the
surface.
"Dying?" his mother asked amusedly. "We were assured that you
were fine."
"Fine? I was poisoned and was so close to dying that I transformed
in a room full of other students. I could have killed them, or them me!
What then? Would you say that it was fine?"
His mother narrowed her wolfish eyes at him.
Cain knew he had crossed the line with her, but he didn't care.
For her to be so dismissive of what had happened hurt him as much
as it infuriated him.
"You will watch your tone, boy," she growled. "You're no longer a
cub."
Cain nodded his understanding.
"Fine," he returned evenly. "If there is nothing else, I have work to be
getting on with."
He turned from her, swallowing the lump that had formed in his
throat.
He knew that werewolves were not so maternal for the most part, but
he had hoped when she knew just how gravely ill he had been that
there would be something akin to care from the woman.
There had been nothing.
All she seemed to care for was Greyback's grand plan and all but
worshipping the ground their alpha walked on.
'Fenrir wishes to speak with you," his mother announced.
Cain's attention snapped back towards the woman.
"Why me?" he asked suspiciously.
"He wishes to check on you for himself," his mother answered with a
shrug. "So much for the pack not caring about you."
With that, she turned and left the room.
"He will arrive in an hour," she called from the foot of the stairs.
Cain could only frown thoughtfully.
Greyback wasn't merely coming to check on him.
The alpha wanted something from him, of that he was certain.
But what could that be?
Cain was a student and had nothing to offer the pack. Still, he did not
believe for one moment Fenrir Greyback wished to check on his
wellbeing. No, something else was the catalyst of the impending
visit.
Whilst he waited, he played over every possible scenario in his mind,
but even as he heard the heavy footfalls of the alpha draw closer as
he climbed the stairs, Cain was at a loss.
Nevertheless, an involuntary shudder worked its way down his spine
as the enormous man entered his room bringing the heady aroma of
blood, sweat, and death with him.
Despite this, the look he gave Cain appeared to be one of concern
as he took a seat on the edge of the bed.
"Your mother has been worried about you," Greyback sighed.
"What's been happening, kid?"
Cain shrugged.
"I don't know," he answered. "Everything here just feels different, and
with what happened at school…"
He broke off.
"What did happen? Your mother mentioned that someone poisoned
you and that it made you transform."
Cain nodded.
"They did and I did," he murmured. "They wouldn't tell me what
happened though."
He wasn't going to pass on that information to Greyback.
There was no doubt in Cain's mind that he was sick enough to
poison members of the pack in an attempt to replicate it.
A scowl crossed the older werewolf's features, but he schooled his
expression quickly.
"But you are okay?"
"I am," Cain confirmed.
"Good," Greyback declared. "I would have been devastated to lose
you."
He rubbed Cain's shoulder comfortingly, and even through his
clothes, he could feel the rough skin of his hands and the sharp nails
at the end of Greyback's fingers.
"What of your friends? I bet they were worried."
"The other werewolves were," Cain replied carefully. "My other
friend, Jonas, he's a son of a hag, he was worried too."
"Your other friend? Is he the only other you have?"
Cain felt a sense of dread fill him.
Fenrir wasn't here out of concern nor to check that he had indeed
recovered.
He wanted information.
"None of the purebloods speak to me, and the half-bloods don't want
much to do with the creatures," he explained.
"That is the world we live in, unfortunately," Greyback sighed. "What
are the other students like?"
Cain shrugged in response as he pondered his reply carefully.
"They don't bully us, not really," he answered. "We're mostly left
alone, but some of the pureblood ones try to when they are bored.
They don't get very far though. There are a lot of us there, and we all
look out for one another, even if we aren't pack outside of school."
Greyback, his lips pulled over his yellow teeth as he nodded.
"That is good," he declared. "What of Harry Potter? I understand he
is a student there."
And there it was.
Greyback had guided the conversation to precisely this, and once
more, Cain's stomach filled with a deeper sense of dread.
What interest could Fenrir possibly have in Harry?
"He is," Cain confirmed.
It was no good to deny it, not when it was now common knowledge.
"He mostly keeps himself to himself," he continued. "He doesn't
cause anyone any problems, but he doesn't have any friends other
than a few pureblood students. He doesn't mix with the likes of us."
Greyback scowled once more.
"What have you noticed about him?"
"Not much," Cain replied with a thoughtful frown. "He likes to play
pranks on people sometimes, and they say that he is good at
Transfiguration and Charms. I've not paid much attention to him
really."
Greyback nodded as he stood.
"I'd like you to observe him," he instructed. "Learn as much as you
can about him and report it back to me. Do you think you could do
that, for the pack?"
Cain swallowed deeply as he nodded.
"I can," he confirmed. "I won't let you down."
Greyback smiled, though it came across as more of a leer than
anything else.
"Good," he growled gently. "The pack will only benefit from it."
Cain listened as Greyback's footsteps receded down the staircase
and out of the house before he dared breathe again.
For reasons unknown to him, the pack had now taken an interest in
Harry and instead of playing his part as he would be expected to do,
there was only one thing on his mind.
He needed to tell his friend, to warn Harry of the danger he might be
in.
Here, these wolves might call him pack, but none of them looked out
for him, no longer cared for him, not like Harry always had.
Not a day passed that his friend did not make sure that he was okay,
that he had everything he needed, and that his transformations were
bearable when the full moon came.
Cain owed Harry his life for everything he had done, and though he
might indeed find himself as a lone wolf or even a dead one for doing
so, he would not stab Harry in the back.
Not for the pack, not for his parents, and certainly not for Fenrir
Greyback.
Fear filled every fibre of him as he pondered just why Greyback was
interested in his friend, but Cain quickly realised that the reasoning
did not matter.
Fenrir only took an interest in humans for two things, food or torture.
Cain would never see Harry become either for the monster, not that
it would likely come to pass.
Greyback was an infamous killer, perhaps the most prolific werewolf
to ever live, but Harry was Harry.
He certainly would not submit to any, and Cain had no doubt that
Greyback would be biting off more than he could chew should he
take too much of an interest in his friend.
"Most impressive, Harry," Gellert praised as he watched the boy
casting the spells he himself had painstakingly created.
It was quite the sight to behold, and though the former Dark Lord had
provided the knowledge, the hard work of utilising it was all Harry's.
It filled the old man with pride to see someone so dedicated, so
driven to succeed, and as ruthless as he had once been.
Gellert still and always would harbour his ambition to see the world
moulded in his perfect image of it. That would never come to be but
knowing there were those like Harry that could bring some needed
changes made his wholly unsatisfying existence just that more
tolerable.
"Does it tire you out using them?" Gellert asked.
Harry shook his head.
"They did at first, but not anymore," he explained. "I got used to them
quickly. I suppose the Elder Wand helps."
Gellert nodded thoughtfully.
"Well, whatever you are doing is undoubtedly working. Keep up the
work, Harry, and there will be very little you cannot achieve if you put
your mind to it."
The boy smiled, reminding Gellert that he was still just that.
For all of his ability and potential, Harry was still a child in many
ways, but not so in others.
He was indeed on the cusp of manhood, and a fine one he would
make.
"I brought you a present," Harry declared as he removed his trunk
and resized it. "I know there isn't much you are allowed in here, but I
checked, and this is fine."
He reached in and produced an ornate box that he handed to Gellert
who accepted it with a curious quirk of his eyebrow.
Within, he found a pensieve and he chuckled to himself.
"You might not be able to take over the world now, but you can revisit
your attempt at it," Harry snorted. "I'm sure there are other memories
you would wish to see again."
Gellert smiled warmly at the boy.
It was the most thoughtful gift he could have given him.
For as detached as he could be towards others at times, deep down,
Harry truly was a very kind person.
Cassiopeia had indeed done a fine job raising him.
"It is the most wonderful gift I have ever received," Gellert replied
sincerely. "Now, it is Christmas morning. Should you not be with the
others?"
Harry nodded.
"I'm going, but I wanted to make sure you got your gift too," he
explained as he shrunk his trunk and placed it back within his robes.
"Oh, there's something else too."
He removed a box from his pocket and placed it on the floor on
Gellert's side of the cell. Tapping it with his wand, it increased in size
considerably and the most enticing smells filled the entire corridor.
"I can't imagine the food you get in here is great, so I had Elgar
make a few things for you. It is Christmas," Harry said with a shrug.
Gellert opened the box to find it filled with an array of foods, roasted
meats, potatoes, and too many sweet treats to count.
"Merry Christmas, Gellert," Harry offered, waving as he made his
way towards the exit.
"Merry Christmas, Harry," Gellert whispered in response, his eyes
fixed on the hamper of food he'd been given. "Merry Christmas."
"This won't end well for you," Cassiopeia warned amusedly.
Sirius growled in response from his hiding place behind the kitchen
door.
Harry had yet to meet his dog form and Christmas Day was the
perfect time to introduce his godson to his other side.
Cassiopeia didn't know what she was talking about.
Sirius would pin the boy down.
"Don't say I didn't warn you," Cassiopeia sighed.
Sirius ignored the woman, his ears perking up as he heard the front
door open and he squatted down on his haunches, ready to leap at
the unsuspecting Harry.
His tail began to wag as the footsteps drew nearer, and before Harry
had even fully entered the room, Sirius pounced.
What happened next was as confusing as it was surprising for the
Animagus.
One moment, he was airborne, his tongue lolling out of the side of
his mouth as he flew towards his godson. The next, he found himself
in a tangle of his own limbs and the many branches of the Christmas
tree.
He whimpered helplessly as the laughter of his Aunt could be heard.
It was a thoroughly embarrassing situation he found himself in, and it
only got worse as he finally managed to free himself.
Instead of being greeted by the sight of the laughing woman or even
an admonishing glare from Remus, he found himself staring into the
eyes of a snarling wolf.
Sirius was filled with terror, and without thought, his tail was tucked
between his legs as he bolted from his own kitchen.
Much to his dismay, the wolf gave chase, and a yelp escaped him as
a chunk of fur was pulled from one of his hind legs.
The wolf was faster than him, and there was seemingly no escape.
Sirius howled pleadingly as he found himself pinned to the floor, the
slobbering wolf dribbling as it took the dominant position.
"Alright, that's enough, Harry," he heard Cassiopeia huff.
The wolf looked towards the woman before allowing Sirius to stand,
and it was then the former Azkaban prisoner realised that the wolf
was Harry and not a creature he had conjured.
Reverting back to his human form, he felt a mixture of pride,
embarrassment, and irritation.
He had not comported himself well in the face of the beast, much to
his shame.
"You're a bloody wolf?" he groaned.
Harry grinned smugly in response.
"Better than a mangy dog."
"I do not have mange!"
"That's enough from both of you," Cassiopeia grumbled. "Come on,
Kreacher will have dinner ready soon."
Sirius cursed under his breath as he and Harry followed the woman
back to the kitchen where Remus was attempting to repair the
damage to the tree.
"Did you know about this?" Sirius demanded.
Remus held his hands up innocently.
"I had no idea," the werewolf assured him amusedly.
Sirius hummed disbelievingly.
Remus had known, and judging by the expression he wore, he found
the entire situation hilarious.
"It's not funny," Sirius mumbled.
"But it would have been if you got me?" Harry asked.
Sirius nodded.
"It would have made my Christmas."
Both Harry and Remus shook their heads.
"Has he always been so petty?" Harry questioned.
"You have no idea," the werewolf replied. "He once tried to prank
your dad but wasn't so subtle about it. James heard everything and
Sirius ended up bald for two weeks before Lily took pity on him and
fixed it."
"I never did get the git back for that," Sirius broke in sadly.
"So, you're going to try to take it out on me?"
Sirius grinned as he nodded.
"I'll get you, Harry. It's just a matter of time."
Harry quirked a challenging eyebrow in return.
"We'll see."
"We will," Sirius agreed.
"Come on, dinner is ready," Cassiopeia announced. "The two of you
can sit on opposite sides of the table. Neither of you can be trusted."
"You mean Sirius can't be trusted," Harry snorted.
"You can't be trusted!" Sirius fired back petulantly.
"Merlin help me," Cassiopeia groaned. "It's like having two children.
Are you planning on spending the night here, Harry?"
"I don't see why not," Harry answered. "I've finished my homework
and sent all my presents to everyone."
"You mean to your girlfriend," Sirius teased.
"I don't have a girlfriend."
"What happened to the Greengrass girl?"
Harry shrugged.
"Nothing, but we both agreed that having a relationship when we are
so far apart just wouldn't work."
"That's very mature," Remus commented.
"So, there isn't anyone else?" Sirius probed.
"Maybe," Harry answered cryptically, "but not anything serious."
"Don't," Remus warned as Sirius opened his mouth to reply. "Just
don't."
Sirius scowled at his friend as he took his seat at the table where
Kreacher began serving them their meals.
"Do you really have a vampire for a friend?" the werewolf asked
curiously.
Harry nodded as he removed a photo from within his robes.
"Lucinda," he confirmed. "That's her there," he added, pointing to a
pale, dark-haired girl amongst a group of teenagers. "The others are
the rest of my friends."
"James would be so proud," Sirius chuckled. "Three pretty girls,
Harry?"
"They're my friends," Harry sighed. "Nothing has happened with any
of them."
"But you are interested in another girl? I bet they don't like that
much."
"Not really," Harry answered, "but that's my business."
Sirius nodded his agreement.
"I do hope you are not disrespecting these young women,"
Cassiopeia interjected.
"If he is, then he doesn't take after James," Sirius pointed out. "Lily
was the only girl for him from the moment he saw her. It was quite
pathetic."
"Pathetic because he wasn't caught in a broom cupboard with
someone new every week?" Remus asked.
Sirius smirked unashamedly.
"Hey, I'm not complaining. He just left more girls for me."
"That's enough of that talk!" Cassiopeia snapped. "Harry does not
need your encouragement to become a lout like you. He is doing a
fine job of that himself."
"I'm nothing like him!" Harry defended.
Cassiopeia hummed disbelievingly.
"Next time, do not leave the notes that Alessia gives you in your
robes," she advised.
Harry's eyes widened in realisation.
"You didn't read that, did you?"
"No, but Elgar did," Cassiopeia explained. "Just don't get the girl
pregnant. If you do, you will be marrying her."
"Good luck trying to make that happen," Harry muttered.
"Excuse me?"
"Nothing," Harry answered quickly, shooting a glare at the guffawing
Sirius and Remus.
He had not experienced such excitement for so long that he had
almost forgotten what it felt like, and now that he had been
reminded, he was more eager than ever to press forward with his
plans.
He watched the blaze in the distance, the smell of burning timber
and the items that were within the manor as they were reduced to
nothing but ash, a smile cresting his lips.
Perhaps he should not have returned so soon, even if it was just for
a single excursion, but his patience was not boundless, and the urge
to come here and rid himself of a powerful enemy had been too
strong to ignore.
Still, he had already been gone too long, and as he witnessed the
arrival of the aurors, Lord Voldemort vanished, leaving no trace of his
presence behind.
Harry woke in a cold sweat, his breathing laboured as he sat up and
poured himself a glass of water with a trembling hand.
It had been some time since he'd had such a vivid dream, so long
that he had felt the euphoria from the misery of others.
He had come to know where these visions were from, and if
Voldemort was feeling such happiness, it meant that someone else
was suffering.
But whom?
With Voldemort, it could be anyone, but somehow, the Dark Lord felt
close, much closer than Harry had felt him before.
It was not a comforting thought, and cautiously, he moved the corner
of the curtain just enough that he could see into the street outside
where he expected to find a shadowy figure waiting for him.
The square outside Grimmauld Place was empty, but Voldemort had
not been far away.
Releasing a deep breath, he drew the Elder Wand and held it as he
climbed back into bed.
How he would fare in a fight against the man that had murdered his
parents, Harry knew not, but he was not foolish enough to believe
that he was ready, not yet.
He yearned for the day that he would be, that he could sleep
peacefully without bearing witness to the atrocities of his foe. But
that day was still far into the future.
Until then, he would do what he always had.
He would endure and he would learn.
There was little else to be done until Voldemort was truly dead