Chapter 78 - Chapter 78: Pronglet Goes to War: 1

Part 12: Pronglet Goes to War (The Final Battle Prank)

18th June 1995

It wasn't the cemetery.

Harry stood in the remains of his nursery. It was still cold and he shivered. He wandered over to the mural and stroked a hand over the stag. There were lilies all around the sides of the main picture, he realised. He hadn't noticed the detail on his visit to Godric's Hollow. 

"Your godfather drew it." His mother's voice had him turning sharply. She wasn't who he had expected.

"Mum." He whispered, drinking in the sight of her; a pretty twenty-one year old woman with flowing red hair, dressed in a simple witch's day robe. Her form was limed with gold and silver magic tendrils.

She didn't hesitate. She just pulled him into an embrace. The warm rush of her love through him had him shuddering but he clung tighter.

"My baby." His mother whispered in his ear.

Harry knew if Molly had said it to Ron, his best friend would have blushed and been embarrassed. But it was the first time his mother had said it to Harry when he knew and understood just how precious a comment it was to her, to them both. It was all her love for him wrapped up in two small words.

Her arms were safe; home and family. He could have stayed there forever.

"I don't have much time." His mother eased away a touch, just enough that she could look him in the eyes. She smoothed his hair back and traced his scar. "I wish you didn't have to do this, Harry."

"Padfoot's still working on making sure I don't have to." Harry pointed out. There was only a week before he would face Voldemort but his father had never stopped searching for a way for Harry not to be involved. Harry figured it was in vain – events had been set in motion for his showdown with Tom Riddle centuries before his birth – but he appreciated the effort.

"He loves you very much." His mother said fondly. 

"I love him." Harry said, confident in his words more so because he had spoken them out loud to Padfoot too. 

"Your Dad's smug about it; he always wanted Sirius to be your godfather." She smiled sadly. "Alice and I had it all worked out and I wanted Frank; that was the plan. It had a nice logical symmetry you know."

Because she and his father had been Neville's godparents.

"Neville's awesome." Harry said, nodding.

"Then I went into labour," his mother sighed but her eyes were shining with humour, "and Sirius stayed with me the whole time. He…held my hand and fed me ice chips. He told me stories about James; about how much James loved me. He was my rock."

Harry beamed with pride. "He's good like that."

"You were his whole world the moment you were born." His mother said. 

Harry nodded slowly. "Sometimes it scares me how much he loves me." He confessed.

"Yes," his mother agreed, "it can be overwhelming to be loved so much. To know the lengths someone would go to in order to ensure you lived and were happy." Her gaze drifted back to the doorway to the landing. "I knew your father would lay down his life for us; kill for us. We were his world."

Harry nodded again. He'd never doubted James Potter's sacrifice had been based on his love for his wife and child.

"You laid down your life for me." He whispered. Because his mother had loved him.

"Yes," his mother turned back to him and clasped his hands in hers, "but I need you to remember this, Harry, because it's very important."

She waited until he met her eyes.

"As much as I loved you enough to die for you," his mother stated fiercely, "I loved you enough that I wanted to live for you too. I tried to run that night just as your Dad said. I tried to apparate with you but I couldn't because the ward was still in place; I tried the emergency portkey and it didn't work. I was in the process of trying to open the window to levitate the two of us out of it when I heard James die and I heard a monster coming up the stairs to kill you and knew there was no more time."

Harry stared at her shocked. He had never remembered the specifics, just the voices and the light…

"I stood between you and Tom Riddle because there was no other choice. I wanted to live for you; to raise you, to take you to your first day at school, for your wand, to wave you goodbye on the train, to hear about the first girl you fell for and your first date, to cry on your wedding day and to hold your children in my arms as their grandmother." His mother searched his expression intently. "Do you understand me?"

Harry nodded. She wanted him to fight to live; to only sacrifice his life if there was no other choice.

"Tell me, Harry," his mother said firmly, "tell me about your future."

"I, uh, there's…" Harry stumbled over his words and she smiled at him amused while he took a breath and gathered his thoughts. "Hermione. I'm hoping…"

"You're hoping she's your future?" She smiled, her eyes twinkling. "She's a good girl; smart and loyal. Your Dad thinks she's great but I think that was because she set fire to Severus's robes."

Harry gave a startled laugh.

"I think she's great too." His mother brushed his hair back from his face. 

Harry warmed at her approval. 

Something about the house wavered and Harry tightened his grip on his mother.

"My time is short," she said again with regret, "I have things to say and was only granted a short moment through the Veil in which to say it."

Harry frowned.

"You are the Master of the Hallows." His mother said quickly. "We can reach you through the Veil."

"We?" asked Harry, slightly nervous at the idea.

"You may speak with the Dead in dreams." His mother whispered. "Each night this week you will receive a visit in your sleep."

Well, that was very…Charles Dickenish, Harry mused. "You're the first." He murmured.

"Nobody dared to challenge my right as your mother to tell you." She informed him with a smirk. 

"Dad?" asked Harry tentatively.

"He'll be your last." His mother shrugged with a light smile. "Nobody dared challenge his right to be the last to speak with you before the battle, not even your Grandpa Black."

Harry chuckled. 

"Listen to them, Harry." His mother said urgently. "Listen to them because they will help you."

"I'll listen." He promised. 

His mother took one last look around the nursery. "I never regretted my decision, Harry, never think that. I just…"

"I would have preferred it if you'd lived too." Harry said, understanding.

"I am always with you." She placed a hand on his heart and disappeared in a shimmer of gold.

He turned back to the mural trying to blink the tears out of his eyes.

'Where there is love there is life.' The gold lettering appeared across the shattered mural and…

Harry woke up.

His heart pounded as the dream came back to him. He rubbed his fingers together lightly; it was as though he could still feel his mother's touch.

There were moments where he hated being Death's Champion; hated Ignotus still for the choice he'd made and the fate he'd condemned Harry to living, but…but there were moments when he was grateful. Moments where Padfoot looked at him or did something, and Harry would be so thankful that Death had sent him a Grim. Moments like the one he'd just had; a moment with his mother…

"As much as I loved you enough to die for you, I loved you enough that I wanted to live for you too."

Her lesson echoed in his ears. He squinted at the faint edges around the curtain trying to make out the time. It was still dark so it was early.

Too early.

He sighed and stretched under the covers even as he blinked back sleep. Hedwig barked from her perch, her wings flaring outward before settling again. He pushed back his covers and went to pet her. She nuzzled into his palm, giving him comfort.

He scratched her one final time and moved to the window. He opened the curtain and stared out at the dismal Summer morning. The sun was just beginning to emerge; thin streams of yellow sunlight peeked through the still dark sky. There was rain on the glass and beyond, Harry could see the fall of more.

He settled in.

Watching the sunrise wasn't a bad way to start the morning.

He ignored the churn of his stomach.

It was strange to think that in another week, he would face Voldemort. Weird to know it was coming. All his other encounters hadn't exactly been planned. Quirrell had been a surprise inasmuch as it had been Quirrell, never mind Quirrell also possessed by Voldemort. Same with the diary. It has been a surprise to find that the Heir to Slytherin was Tom Marvolo Riddle aka Lord Voldemort possessing Ginny Weasley. He'd known Sirius Black was stalking him the previous year, but truly wouldn't have gone anywhere near the Shrieking Shack if Sirius hadn't dragged Ron there.

Unplanned.

Unprepared.

It was a wonder he hadn't died already.

It was the first mistake Harry had insisted they wouldn't make again. Hermione and Remus were so giddy with the decision that they'd made more plans than Harry could ever fathom. Plans and plans; mitigation plans, contingency plans, containment plans.

The Little Hangleton cemetery had been confirmed as the most likely location for Voldemort's ritual. It met the needed criteria in the book Nott had provided. The difficulty was placing wizards into the area without Voldemort getting spooked. A young werewolf couple had been sent to rent a flat over one of Little Hangleton's small shops. They were both muggleborn and had been able to pass as just another young muggle couple. The flat had been warded to the hilt and put under Fidelius. It acted as a base of operations.

Caro had gone alone to do reconnaissance in her animagus form at the cemetery; something Bill hadn't been happy about as he had been able to provide cover for his partner, but had reluctantly accepted was necessary. Her efforts had been rewarded; they had a good map of the graveyard and had started to plan where the cavalry would fight from. If Harry did end up in the graveyard, he wouldn't be alone for long. Having any kind of adult back-up was weird but Harry was incredibly grateful for it.

But it wasn't just the cemetery they were planning for. They'd learned from the previous skirmishes with the Dark Lord. No-one had considered that Voldemort would send a second group to attack Black Farm just as years before no-one had considered that the Longbottoms would be in danger once Voldemort was gone. Plans were afoot to ensure Hogwarts was defended because it was pretty clear that Voldemort would likely attack the school at the same time as he was resurrected. It was a perfect distraction to keep any kind of sizable force away from his ritual and it would herald his return in the most bloody way possible; the slaughter of children.

The War Council would raise the security on Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade, and Saint Mungo's but they all agreed Hogwarts was the most likely target given Snape's reports from his contact with Voldemort. They still hadn't found the vanishing cabinet Crouch had left behind and there were rumours filtering through Lucius of an army of creatures being amassed. Albus had confirmed that Hogwarts didn't explicitly ward against dark creatures. It was the reason why the Dementors had been able to roam the grounds the year before; why Moony had been able to attend school. Some were barred unless by invitation but as a public event like the tournament threw open Hogwarts' grounds to the public, the ward was effectively negated the night of the third task. It was frustrating.

A very detailed evacuation plan had been devised and the heirs to the Potter alliance were working with the Professors to ensure it would be followed. They'd managed to have one practice run already under the pretence that the explosions had required the school to come up with such a procedure. Albus had been tickled to realise muggle schools had practice fire drills at least annually.

The evacuation plan had been the only way of ensuring the heirs would be safe from the fight. Even then Harry knew that many of them would prefer to stay with the school and defend it. He had insisted that unless they were trapped, they shouldn't fight.

They were planning for both eventualities.

Harry frowned heavily.

They were also planning for the prospect of betrayal from within.

Antioch hadn't seen the knife at his back; his parents and Sirius had trusted Peter. It was very likely that someone would betray them. The obvious target was Hogwarts although neither Harry nor Sirius had discounted the cemetery, especially as it was expected Voldemort would call his Death Eaters to him once he was reborn to a body.

Sirius had lists detailing the probabilities of each of their allies turning on them. It was depressing but Harry wouldn't let the hard task of examining the possibility stop them from potentially identifying someone meaning to do them harm.

They were learning from their mistakes.

The sun was almost up.

Harry gazed out into the sky.

His mother's message resonated with him. Harry was prepared to die in the battle with Voldemort but he didn't want to die; he wanted to live. He figured his mother wanted him to know that was OK too. He might have to sacrifice his life but it would be a last resort.

His brow furrowed. If his mother was worried about that, it was probable that Padfoot was worried. Harry sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. There was an easy way to fix that.

A couple of hours later, Harry dug into the fluffy golden eggs Dobby had served along with hot buttered toast. After breakfast he had duelling class and then he had sessions planned with the alliance to go over defensive transfiguration and charms.

Sirius slid into the seat at the top of the table. "Morning. You're up early."

Harry noted the dark circles under his father's eyes; the faint lines of stress that bracketed his mouth and eyes. "Had a weird dream about Mum."

"Oh?" Sirius paused in reaching for the paper.

"We were…we were in the nursery. She told me that she wished she could have lived for me." Harry said bluntly.

Sirius blinked but nodded slowly. "She adored you, Harry. She had all these plans for you. The only thing that could have prevented her from seeing them in person was that in dying she protected you."

"Yeah," Harry murmured thinking of the list of things she'd reeled off, "I kind of got that." He sipped his orange juice. "I think she wanted to make sure that I knew sacrificing myself is the last resort."

Sirius's grey eyes met his over the breakfast table. "It absolutely is the last resort."

"For both of us." Harry commented firmly, holding Padfoot's gaze for a long beat.

"Agreed," Sirius said with a huffy laugh, "for both of us."

"Good, 'cause I kind of have plans." Harry said breezily, satisfied and happy with Sirius's answer.

"Plans?" asked Sirius digging into his own plate finally.

"I was thinking we should take that trip next Summer we talked about." Harry said. "Visit Simeon? Especially now Anna's pregnant."

Sirius's face lit up and a sparkle entered his eyes that had been missing for days. "We could probably do that."

"I mean, I want to be here for Reggie's birth but after." Harry said casually dousing his remaining eggs in ketchup. "And before Dora has baby Lupin."

Sirius coughed, almost choked on his eggs and coughed again. He reached for his coffee and took a long gulp. He set the coffee cup aside. "Right then." He looked over at Harry. "Any other plans?"

Harry shook his head. "Spending time with Hermione? And my other friends? I liked what we did last Summer with the lessons and the trips so…"

"We'll plan it out." Sirius promised with a smile.

Harry smiled back. He had a future with Padfoot. That's all he'd ever wanted.

o-O-o

Peter carefully closed the bedroom door and tiptoed away, across the landing and down the creaky stairs.

The Dark Lord was bedded down for the night, his insane snake guarding the end of his bed. Peter finally had some time for himself. The past week had been taken up with negotiations between the Dark Lord and his allies as the Dark Lord prepared for the coming weekend and his resurrection.

The Dark Lord was furious at the loss of the werewolves; all Packs had sworn to stand with Lupin's; Travers had barely escaped with his life in Italy. As a result the Dark Lord had gone to the vampire clans in earnest. The Dementors and Giants had also been approached; the former had accepted and the latter had refused.

Peter went to the kitchen and started to make another sandwich. He had eaten dinner with the Dark Lord but his Master's insistence on always feeding the snake at the same time rather hindered his appetite. The rabbit had still been alive when she'd swallowed it. Peter was certain he'd seen the hind leg kicking out around the snake's middle for moments after.

He shook the thought away and focused on making himself a simple cheese and tomato sandwich. There were more than a few groceries in the pantry. The Dark Lord had tasked Snape with grocery shopping and if the Potions Master thought the task beneath him, he was keeping it to himself.

Snape arrived on time for his potion-making every few days. Truthfully Peter was glad Snape was preparing the ritual potion – he had no doubt that he'd bollocks the thing up if it were left to him, but it did mean that he had to put up with running into the sly, cruel Slytherin. It felt like Hogwarts all over again.

At least Carrow had been left behind in the London flat to maintain the link with the vampire army the Dark Lord was amassing. They were already arriving into Britain in preparation for the solstice eve when they would travel through the vanishing cabinet into the one Crouch had left in Hogwarts.

Crouch was an idiot, Peter mused as he sat down at the simple pine table in the corner to eat his meal. Out of all of them Crouch had been placed in the cushiest of positions; within Hogwarts as a student. His food and comfort were assured. All he'd had to do was remain on hand to ensure Potter would touch the planted portkey, and ensure the cabinet was placed in a prime location. But Crouch had initiated his own plan which meant he'd had to leave Hogwarts and he'd been punished by the Dark Lord, sent abroad to travel with Travers recruiting in Europe. It left the role of Favoured One to Snape.

The problem, Peter mused as he hungrily devoured the food, was that Crouch was too focused on his own plans and not enough on their Master's. Crouch wanted Sirius dead; he wanted revenge for his lover. And he wanted to be favoured in his Master's eyes. It led him to foolish thinking that independent action would be welcomed.

Peter snorted quietly. Independent action was the last thing that the Dark Lord wanted.

It was nice, he thought, to finally be alone. Carrow's latest visit had been taxing because his entire presence irked the Dark Lord. Carrow was a visible reminder that the plan to attack Black Farm and take the metamorphmagus and her unborn child had failed. The Dark Lord had been furious. The only silver lining was that in the fury at Carrow running away from the Farm because Sirius had taunted him, the Dark Lord had allowed the death of Greyback to go almost unmentioned. Peter was relieved the werewolf was dead.

He remembered all too clearly one night in the dorm with a purloined bottle of firewhiskey, soon after the truth about Remus had been shared, and Remus telling him the story of being bitten. He'd had nightmares for weeks. If he hadn't already taken the vow to become an animagus and help Remus…he would never have set foot in the forest with Moony.

Regret flickered briefly through him.

He remembered those nights of his school years fondly. The Marauders had truly been as close as brothers. He remembered Sirius's fierce protection; Remus's kind instruction; James's steady friendship. He remembered how they'd stood shoulder to shoulder in a fight against the Slytherins; the pranks they'd played…

Peter glanced across the room to the open door. Even thinking such a thing could be dangerous in the same house as the Dark Lord.

He was a faithful servant, Peter reminded himself. He would take part in the ritual to deliver the Dark Lord into a body once more. His memories of the Potters and the Marauders were simply that; memories.

Peter shook himself. Why was he dwelling on memories? James and Lily were gone, and Sirius and Remus would kill him rather than save him.

He finished his sandwich and made a cup of tea.

The old drawing room had been cleaned up and it made a cosy place to spend the rest of the evening. There was a banked fire in the hearth and Peter sat down in the old leather sofa. He stared at the flames and remembered being with the Marauders on the beach, the Summer after their graduation from Hogwarts. They'd had a week together before each of them had gone their separate ways and they'd gone to Blackpool. They'd built a bonfire and toasted marshmallows…

It had been special.

As special as James's wedding to Lily.

He could remember every moment of the wedding day. He had been a groomsman along with Remus; Sirius being awarded the prized position as best man. The bride and groom had danced under a charmed ceiling of stars at Potter Manor so in love with each other. Harry was the best of both of them – Peter had spent enough time in his company in his guise as a rat to know that.

The wedding had almost been the last time the Marauders had been together before Peter had been formally Marked, before he'd accepted Travers's offer and had been given the role as the Dark Lord's hidden spy in the Order.

Those days of family, hearth and home were long gone in his life, Peter reflected. The Dark Lord allowed nobody else to matter. To be a Death Eater was to declare allegiance to him first and foremost. There was no room for sentiment.

Followers were allowed families and spouses only to ensure the future; to ensure the next generation of Death Eaters and followers. Friendships were not encouraged, only alliances, and even then the Dark Lord sought to set his followers against each other. He made them compete for his attention and favour; made them compete to avoid his wrath.

Tiredness washed over him. It was almost over. Another week and the Dark Lord would kill Harry and take control of the wizarding world…it was too late for anything else…

Peter hovered in the doorway of Godric's Hollow. Remus was in the kitchen making some kind of basic stew for them all. The growl of the motorcycle coming down the country lane was loud and Peter wondered again at just how Sirius had convinced Lily to use the thing to bring home the baby.

It drew up in front of the cottage and Peter smiled at the sight of his four friends. The Mark on his arm tingled as though remonstrating him and he once again wondered if he'd done the right thing. He had, he told himself sternly; hadn't he been able to protect James the week before by diverting the Dark Lord's attention to the McKinnons? 

"Oi, Wormy!" Sirius called out. "Stop dawdling on the doorstep and come and help us!"

Peter felt a flicker of resentment but a quick look at Sirius had it melting away; Sirius looked in pain. It was a miracle Sirius had survived being captured by Death Eaters. Peter had heard the rumours of the tortures his friend had endured. He shivered; thankful that the Mark and his position as the Dark Lord's spy protected him from that. He hurried forward. 

James was already dismounted; he'd been riding behind Sirius on the bike. Lily was safely still ensconced in the side-car, the glow of a protective shield still around it. James tapped it with his wand and it disappeared.

Lily beamed up at him. Her red hair was covered by a cumbersome helmet and her entire front was covered by a woolly blue blanket. James helped his wife out of the helmet. Her hair immediately began to stir with the faint wind.

Peter hurried to assist her. He carefully took the blanket she handed him and gazed at the sleeping baby it revealed. Harry was tiny. He was bundled up and strapped to Lily's front in some kind of weird papoose thing. 

Lily smiled as Peter offered his hand in addition to the one James already had outstretched. "Thank you, Peter."

A moment later she was standing on the pavement, carefully checking on her sleeping son. "Peter, meet our son; Harry James."

"He's so small." Peter commented, almost awe-struck at the sight of the baby with his rosy cheeks and mess of fine black hair.

"He's perfect." Sirius responded before either parent could reply. He'd limped around the bike and was peering over Lily's shoulder. "Absolutely perfect."

James slapped Sirius's back. "Meet the proud godfather, Peter."

Peter felt a twinge of jealousy that he hadn't been considered but then James and Sirius were cousins, and he knew as the Heir to an Ancient and Noble House there were other considerations for James than simply friendship. 

"Let's get this little one inside." Lily said, smoothing a hand over her baby's head. 

Peter nodded. "Luggage?"

"Shrunk and in James's pocket." Lily explained. Her sharp gaze darted to Sirius as she started walking up the garden path. "Cane, Black. Don't make me punish you."

Sirius huffed but summoned the cane from where he'd strapped it onto the side of the bike. Peter smirked at him. 

"Don't smirk at Sirius, Peter." Lily remonstrated without looking back at him. 

Peter's smirk dropped from his face and he sighed. "How does she do that?"

James wore a familiar besotted smile; familiar because he'd been wearing it pretty much every time he'd talked about Lily since they'd met at eleven years of age. "Because she's brilliant."

Peter and Sirius who had mouthed the words along with their friend, grinned at each other as James caught on and shot them both an irritated look.

"Yes, yes, Prongs." Sirius waved away James's ire. "She's brilliant. She's also very scary."

"That's my wife." James said cheerily, leading them into the house but at a slow pace which Peter knew was for Sirius.

"You have a baby now." Sirius complained. "You'd think you'd be over saying that."

"You're right, Pads." James agreed grinning cheekily. "I should go with 'that's the mother of my son' from now on."

Sirius and Peter exchanged identical looks of horror. 

"How's your mother, Wormy?" Sirius asked in a desperate attempt to change the subject.

"Good, good." Peter replied, closing the door behind him, and suddenly remembering that he'd used the excuse of her being ill to avoid the hospital. "I mean, better."

Sirius frowned but before anything else could be said. The coat rack reached out for their outerwear and they all focused on shedding clothing before it ripped it from them. 

Lily had dismantled the papoose and had placed Harry on the rug in front of the fire. He'd woken up. He was on his back, legs and arms waving; his eyes were focused on the woman tending him. Lily looked beautiful; soft and maternal. Peter had no doubt she'd turn into a complete tiger if anyone dared to threaten her child.

The three men stood in in hushed silence.

Remus barrelled in through the door to the dining room, wiping his hands on a tea towel. "Sorry, sorry, but I have to add the mushrooms at the right time or they'll shrink into nothingness and…oh." He stopped abruptly.

Lily glanced over her shoulder, tossed her hair back and in a smooth move, picked up the baby and got to her feet. She crossed the few steps between her and Remus and before he could protest handed him the child.

Moony looked stunned but quickly adjusted his hold, cradling the child as though it was the most precious thing in the world. "Cub." He whispered.

"That's right, Remus." Lily said retreating a couple of steps to James, who slid an arm around her shoulders as she slid hers around his waist.

Peter and Sirius smiled at each other. It was rare to see Moony so disconcerted. 

James dropped a kiss on Lily's head as Harry gurgled up at Remus. 

Sirius sprang forward suddenly. "Alright, enough hogging of the Pronglet, Moony! Gimme, gimme!" He limped over and held out his hands. 

Remus rolled his eyes but Harry was already cooing and stretching out towards his godfather. They shuffled until Sirius held the baby.

"There's my Pronglet." Sirius murmured gently, a finger tapping Harry's nose softly. Harry gurgled up at his godfather happily, blowing bubbles.

Peter and Remus exchanged a curious look at just how comfortable Sirius looked with the baby. They looked at James and Lily questioningly.

"Don't ask us." Lily said dryly. "It was love at first sight with them both."

"We were going to make Frank godfather," James commented, "since Alice is godmother and we've both been asked to stand for his son, Neville, you know? Only…" He waved a hand at where Sirius stood rocking slightly and murmuring nonsense to Harry. "So Frank gets the next one."

Lily poked her husband in his stomach. "Let's get this one walking before we start talking about another, Potter."

"When are your folks due?" Remus asked. "The stew'll be ready in…"

Lily was shaking her head. "All the family saw him at the hospital. They're leaving us alone tonight. Charlus said he'll come by tomorrow night for dinner. I suspect Mum'll nag Dad into driving her here first thing in the morning."

Peter brightened. He was always slightly intimidated by Lord Potter and Lily's muggle parents were sometimes baffling to him.

"Do I have time for a bath?" Lily asked, plucking at her blouse. "I think I still smell like hospital." She grimaced.

Remus nodded. "It'll be about an hour."

"Then I'm going for a long soak in the tub." Lily declared, already turning to the stairs. "James, put Harry in his crib. He needs a nap before his next feed." 

Sirius's face drooped with disappointment but he handed over the baby to James without arguing. Harry seemed disgruntled at leaving Sirius but settled quickly in his father's arms. 

"Come and see the nursery." James said as he led the way upstairs.

The bathroom door was already shut, the sound of running water drifting out to the landing. Peter hurried after James into the small bedroom next to the master. He looked over at the mural and smiled. 

"You and Moony should think about taking up as a professional artists after the war, Padfoot." Peter said. "This is brilliant."

"It's all Padfoot." Remus argued. "He drew it. I just painted where he told me."

Sirius shrugged. "It's not like I've had anything else to do."

"You've been recovering, Pads." James said, placing his baby down into the crib gently. He set the magical mobile above the bed on and it glowed a gentle white. 

Each of the men had taken a position on the corner of the crib and they all simply gazed at the first born of the Marauders. 

"Well." James said gruffly.

"He looks like you, James." Peter commented. There was no mistaking the Potter features.

"He has his mother's eyes." James said softly. "He's beautiful."

"He is." Sirius agreed. His gaze hadn't left the baby.

James sighed heavily. "I just never imagined…he's my world now. Mine and Lily's. We'd kill for him, to keep him safe in this world."

"I'll be right beside you." Sirius promised.

"And me." Remus added.

Peter nodded, knowing it was expected. "You'll be a good Dad, Prongs."

James looked up at them all suddenly. "You have to promise me you'll be there for him if…" he pushed his glasses up his nose. "I mean, Alice and Frank will raise him. He goes there if the worst happens to Lils and me, but…he'll need you all too."

"You're not going anywhere, Prongs, but we promise; we'll keep Harry safe as houses, won't we, lads?" Sirius promised fervently.

"We promise." Remus said gently, holding James's gaze for a moment.

James's stare came to rest on him and Peter fought the urge to squirm. He thought about the Dark Mark on his arm. In his opinion, it was very likely that James and Lily would fall to the Dark Lord's wand sooner rather than later. They'd made a sport of defying him. But the baby…well, once the Dark Lord won, Harry would need a safe home and Peter could provide that. "Promise." 

James nodded and grinned. "Thanks." He slapped Remus's shoulder. "Come on. We should head downstairs and start unshrinking all the stuff we brought."

Peter glanced back down at the sleeping baby one last time and followed after his friends…

Peter jerked awake and frowned. He must have fallen asleep. Why had he dreamed of thatmemory? He frowned as Sirius's words in the old crypt came rattling back to him…

"It's not too late." Sirius said. "You don't have to do this, Peter! Do you…do you remember when Harry was born? Do you remember what we promised James, Peter? All of us standing around the crib the night they brought him home?"

Not for the first time, Peter allowed himself a moment to dream; if he hadn't joined the Death Eaters…if James and Lily had still survived…if they had not…

Would he be with Sirius and Remus now plotting how to kill the Dark Lord and save Harry? Would he be standing shoulder to shoulder with his fellow Marauders protecting Harry as they had all promised to James that night?

He thought wistfully of the camaraderie, the brotherhood he'd left behind. He wondered

"You know Harry, Peter! You know him because you watched him for almost three years as Ron Weasley's rat! You know he's good and kind and brilliant! He's defeated your Dark Lord three times in the time you've known him! He defeated him at eleven and he defeated a shade of him at twelve. Your Dark Lord fears him!" 

Sirius had argued in the crypt and Peter hadn't denied it.

"You know Harry can defeat him if you stop bloody helping him then!"

And maybe that was true too. Peter shook his head. He was committed to the Dark Lord. He would take his place in the ritual and ensure the Dark Lord's body was restored. He'd have to break his promise to James but it wouldn't be the first promise he'd broken…

Telling the Dark Lord of the Potters' location had been the worst of his oath breaking. Peter shivered. He owed Harry a life debt. He had no doubt that Sirius and Remus both would have killed him that night at Hogwarts.

He'd done what he could, Peter assured himself. He'd warned Moony about Greyback and the Dark Lord's plans; hinted at the ritual to Sirius. There was nothing more he could do. Perhaps his life would be bleak when the Dark Lord won; empty of the love and friendship he'd enjoyed as a Marauder. But he'd be alive.

And even if…even if Harry prevailed there would be no happy ending for Peter, no future. There would be Azkaban and life imprisonment.

Peter got to his feet and banked the fire. As his mother had once said to him; he'd made his bed, Peter mused, now he had to lie in it.

o-O-o

18 th /19 th June 1995

Harry was surprised to find himself in what looked like the girls' dorm at Hogwarts. He felt a frisson of fear just remembering how furious his honorary Aunt had been at finding him there. He glanced around and frowned at he recognised Hermione's bed; the globe he had given her for the ball proudly displayed on the bookshelf along with a photo of them.

He wondered why he was there. He wandered over to the photo. Both he and Hermione stood smiling self-consciously out but then, as though they had thought the photo done, they glanced at each other and their smiles eased into something fond and affectionate that made Harry's heart ache with the knowledge of how much he felt for her, and his stomach churn with nerves and excitement at the thought that she felt the same for him.

"Why here?" he murmured to himself.

"I think you know, Harry." 

The cultured tones of a strange female voice had him turning around. He froze at the sight of three mature women standing beside Hermione's bed. One of the women was clearly a Black; she looked so like Andromeda that he had almost thought it was her. Dressed in a green witch's robe, her hair was Sirius's black, her eyes grey and warm. He placed her immediately from the photos that Sirius had shared with him of the Black family; it was his grandmother, Dorea Potter.

Once the family photos came to mind, he also knew immediately who was in the middle; his grandmother Marigold Evans. Her warm green eyes shone with emotion; her red hair, greying at the temples was tied back in a smooth chignon. She wore muggle clothes unlike the other two women; a simple floral dress in sunshine yellow. Her hand was tightly clasped in Dorea's.

The woman on her other side was imposing; she reminded him of Augusta. Her features were autocratic; her eyes were pale blue, her hair was blonde and styled in an intricate up-do that Harry had once seen on Narcissa. She wore an expensive silk robe in blue and Harry could see they were edged with silver embroidery in the emblems of the House of the Black and McMillan. It was Sirius's paternal grandmother; Melania Black. It had been her book on witches' magic which had given his mother the spell to save him.

Harry immediately bowed to his grandmothers; etiquette that Andromeda had schooled into him coming to the fore. 

"Oh, poppycock to that!" Marigold remarked even as Melania gave an approving nod at his manners. His maternal grandmother moved forward and swept him into a tight hug. Love suffused him. It felt so like his mother's hug and Harry hugged her back.

A moment later, Marigold was nudged aside and Dorea took her place. She moved back and Melania sniffed. 

She didn't move to hug him but instead held out a hand. Harry clasped it. Her fingers tightened around his as he bent and kissed her knuckles. 

"You are a very acceptable Heir." Melania said crisply. She squeezed his fingers again and let him go.

Marigold immediately linked their arms together, smiling happily at him. 

"Can you tell why we're your next visitors?" Dorea asked sitting on the bed in front of him, Melania following her example.

Harry looked at three women, glanced again at the photo behind of him of Hermione, and cleared his throat. "My mother's blessing; you represent her protection."

"Yes." Dorea nodded. "Your mother's blessing protects you still because of the blessing four daughters of the House of Black made to renew it with our blood."

"Witch's magic is a powerful thing." Melania commented. "Already three of our House now bear children because of the protection."

Harry blinked. It hadn't occurred to him to wonder at the number of pregnancies and he was suddenly considering Narcissa's, Dora's and Anna's pregnancies with new eyes. 

Melania nodded at him. "The blessing was strong in maternal energy; the blood and spirit of a mother was sacrificed to save her child; blood was given freely to honour that protection, and a gift rewarded in return for the price of their blood."

"Hermione's gift will come when she is ready." Dorea said with a smile. "Andy and Minerva have been rewarded with children of their heart in other ways."

Andy was very close to Hermione and his Aunt Minerva…well, she was part of Harry's family. 

"Voldemort doesn't respect women." Marigold said. "He disregarded your mother as a threat."

"He doesn't understand witches' magic." Dorea said. "He has never respected the memory of his mother. Merope was a poor witch; an abused girl who dreamed of being a princess and who had poor judgement in how she went about gaining the attention of the boy she'd made into her prince. But she loved her son and he has never acknowledged that."

"He disregards her." Melania said. "Even now in this ritual." She smiled at him. "Where is his mother?"

Nowhere, Harry realised. Tom was using his father's bone but he had killed a pregnant woman with no connection to him to provide the amniotic fluid required for the bones in which to steep. 

"It's a weakness." Harry murmured.

"One that also ignores that it was his mother's blood which gifted him with his magic." Melania's smile was razor sharp.

"Your blood carries with it the protection of every daughter of the House of Black." Dorea commented fiercely. "And we will destroy those who threaten our family." 

He'd figured that out for himself; Narcissa, Andy and Dora had made short work of Alecto Carrow.

"They stand in the place of Lily of the House of Potter; in my place." Marigold murmured. She placed a hand on the talisman Hermione had gifted to him at Christmas. "We will always fight for you. Remember that."

Harry frowned. Narcissa and Dora were pregnant. They would spend the third task sequestered on the Black estate, protected by the heavy wards there.

"You look to protect the women of the House from the fight." Dorea said, picking up on his thoughts. "But not all fights need take place on the battlefield."

"There is a fight for spirit, heart and blood." Melania rose from the bed and crossed to the bookshelf. She pulled a thin volume from the books and handed it to Harry. "Lily's spell was but one; a witch's magic can do than you can imagine." 

"Look to your women." Marigold counselled. She smiled at him. "And always remember, Harry; where there is love…" she tapped the book he held.

He looked down and saw the quote appear on the cover in gold lettering; Where there is love there is life.

He looked up and they were gone…

Harry spread his wings and rode the breeze, aware Hedwig flew beside him, keeping a watchful eye on the young raven Harry was currently embodying. He wondered whether his owl had been included when his grandmother had told him to 'look to his women'; he rather thought Hedwig would be insulted if she wasn't included.

The dream he'd had the night before lingered with him. He'd never met his grandmothers before and to even have the few moments he'd spent with them…it was a precious experience that he was going to treasure.

He'd told Sirius about the dream at breakfast, finally confiding that it was likely he was going to be getting more visits from the dead in his sleep that week when Sirius pointed out that it was two nights in a row to have weird dream visitations. He knew it hadn't gone down well with his father, but the value of the dreams couldn't be denied.

Sirius had immediately called Bertie, Remus and Minerva and they'd agreed to take another look at the book where they'd found the blessing and to consider what it meant that Voldemort had nothing of his mother in the ritual. They'd informed the War Council and called a family meeting to discuss it – which reminded Harry…he was going to be late!

He flew over the lake and angled back towards his bedroom window. The Headmaster had altered the ward to accept Harry in his animagus form and he sailed in through the open window, Hedwig following behind him. He almost missed his perch at the sight of Hermione sitting on his bed, reading a book.

He hurriedly changed back to his human form, casual clothes of jeans and a t-shirt reforming with him. "Hey."

Hermione placed the book down carefully and scrambled off his bed to greet him with a chaste kiss. Harry glanced at the open bedroom door anyway.

"Sirius knows I'm up here." Hermione confirmed. "He said I could wait for you."

Harry smiled at her. "Did you get your revision done?" Hermione had been working all weekend on revision for the charms exam that would take place the next day.

The exams had been carefully negotiated between Sirius and the Hogwarts Professors. Harry was theoretically exempt because of the tournament, his individualised learning plan and the fact that he wasn't currently a Hogwarts' student. But it had been agreed that he'd take exams during the Summer to assess his knowledge and skills for entry back into Hogwarts for his fifth year. It was a reasonable compromise and left Harry able to focus on the tournament and his showdown with Voldemort.

"All done." Hermione agreed as she slipped her hand into his. "We're all very strong with the practical because of helping you; just needed to brush up on the theory."

The chime went for the door.

"We should head down." Hermione commented, tugging on his hand a touch.

Harry led the way out of the room and down the stairs. The next few minutes were a rush of greetings; hugs, kisses, and handshakes. They settled into the living room with additional seats levitated across from the dining table.

Narcissa sat in one armchair; Draco perched on the arm. Harry knew his former school boy rival had really warmed up to the idea of a younger sibling and was very solicitous of his mother. Lucius stood away from his family by the far left of the mantelpiece.

The Grangers sat on the sofa with Hermione beside them. Dora had been ushered into the remaining seat by her parents and Remus. Remus sat on the arm beside his wife; the Tonks on dining chairs to the side.

His Aunt Minerva had taken the remaining comfortable seat. Bertie had conjured his own chair beside her. Harry chose to stand next to Sirius in front of the hearth.

"Thank you for coming." Sirius said formally. "For the most part this is family business but Bertie is here to provide some expertise on magical theory." Harry knew Dumbledore had been disgruntled to be left out but Bertie was the expert and Sirius had full control of who should attend a family meeting.

Sirius looked over to Harry and Harry nodded briskly, taking up the silent baton Sirius had handed him. "I've been talking with my ancestors in dreams; not often but sometimes." He felt his cheeks heat and tried to will away the embarrassment. "Yesterday morning, I dreamed of talking with my mother and she said I'd be visited every night this week."

"Like Scrooge in A Christmas Carol?" asked Miriam, her arm sliding around Hermione's shoulders.

Harry gave a smile of acknowledgement. "Although less of the Past, Present and Future thing." He shrugged. "Just…lessons for me ahead of the battle."

"Fascinating." Lucius drawled.

Harry frowned at him. He wished he could exclude Lucius completely. On the list of 'Those Likely to Stab Them in the Back', Lucius Malfoy would have been at the top, except for the knowledge that he'd not risk his magic in breaking his oath.

"This morning I was visited by my grandmothers." Harry said bluntly. "They pointed out that there is a weakness in Tom's ritual; there's nothing of his mother."

The assembled family exchanged a few concerned and questioning looks.

"If I may?" Bertie said quietly.

Harry nodded, conceding the floor to the Director of the DOM.

"The ritual on the eve of the solstice involves three primary ingredients to facilitate rebirth; blood, flesh and bone." Bertie frowned. "The book supplied by Lord Nott indicates that the potion is best when the bones of the father are seeped with the womb of the mother. The former can be replaced by another male ancestor although the closer the relationship the better; the latter replacement is genetic material from the mother but in the absence of this, amniotic fluid from a pregnant woman." He paused. "The book mentions a number of possible weaknesses with this approach and we should assume that Voldemort has countered most of them."

Harry figured the genetics gifts was one; Bertie had explained earlier to him and Sirius that by using Nagini to sustain his wraith and the addition of a snake to the potion, Voldemort was ensuring his parseltongue would carry into his new body.

"However, there is one he cannot counter." Bertie glanced over at Harry. "Without his own mother's essence within the potion, it makes him particularly vulnerable to witch magic."

"Witch magic like the blessing of protection we did for Harry?" asked Hermione, her eyes wide.

"Yes," Minerva sat forward, "we've been examining Melania's books on the subject most of the day and we believe there is an opportunity to harness that protection and reinforce it we have previously ignored."

"Voldemort seeks Harry's blood in part because he thinks it will negate Lily's sacrifice, remove the protection from Harry." Bertie continued. "He's almost right that in most cases it would do so except…"

"Except the House of Black has already assumed Lily's place in the blessing; we would only need to restate the adoption blessing to bring it back into being, and without a link to his own mother, the force of the protection should do more than just blast him out of his body!" Minerva finished triumphantly.

"It's the exact same adoption blessing?" Miriam asked, frowning.

"With a few differences," Minerva allowed, "such as Harry and Sirius would not be physically present."

"But there is a place where Harry's and my blood reside," Sirius chipped in, "so we would be present in that respect."

Harry noted there were a few sharp looks exchanged at Sirius's confession.

Minerva nodded her head rapidly. "It would mean that all of us would need to be at that place to enact the blessing."

"So I couldn't attend the third task?" Hermione asked immediately.

"We could stay for the task but as soon as we have word that Harry is taken we would need to depart." Minerva confirmed.

"Is it safe?" asked Dora, one hand pressing lightly on her swelling belly.

"Yes." Remus answered, placing a hand on her arm. "We wouldn't be suggesting it otherwise."

"Count me in then." Dora said brightly. "It beats staying home and feeling useless."

Hermione looked pleadingly at her mother. "I want to help."

Miriam and Wallace exchanged a parental look before Miriam nodded her agreement.

Hermione gave a cry and hugged her mother. "Thank you."

Andromeda nodded slowly, her eyes on her daughter. "I'll do it."

"And so shall I." Narcissa said without conferring with Lucius.

"Mother…" Draco began to protest.

Narcissa stopped him with a single look and Draco pouted. "I appreciate your concern, Draco, but I shall be fine." Her gaze landed on Minerva. "You will stand as you did before?"

Minerva nodded. "We five should get together to go over the details of the ritual and perhaps consider how we can improve it." She motioned at Miriam. "You are more than welcome to join us."

"Thank you." Miriam said gratefully, smoothing Hermione's hair back over her shoulder. "I'll feel better about this if we know all the details."

"Excellent." Sirius said, shifting to sling an arm around Harry's shoulder. "And now that's agreed, let's have dinner!"

Harry grinned and let Sirius lead him to the dining table. He watched as the women subtly manoeuvred the men and directed the conversation. Hermione caught his eye and smiled warmly. He smiled back, his hand creeping to the talisman he wore.

Tom was a misogynistic idiot, Harry mused. The witches of the House of Black were going to totally kick his arse.

o-O-o

Remus shifted position in the bed for the umpteenth time and finally came to rest on his back staring up at the ceiling with a heavy sigh.

"I thought I was the one who was supposed to be unable to find a comfortable position." Dora grumbled lightly beside him.

"Sorry," Remus said quietly, "I just…"

"Can't get your brain to shut up." Dora concluded with a hint of a grin in her voice. She snuggled closer into his side, wrapping an arm around his middle and pushing at his arm until he shifted to place it around her shoulders. "Better."

"Hmmm." Remus stroked her shoulder absently with his thumb.

"You want to talk about what's bothering you?" asked Dora. Her voice was clear of sleep and he felt a moment of guilt that he was keeping her from her rest.

"I was thinking about the ritual you're going to do." Remus admitted.

Dora gave a small grunt. "You're not going to try and talk me out of it, are you? Because I have to tell you…"

"No." Remus interrupted her quickly. "No. It's safe and if it can do what we think…"

"Harry will be like uber-protected." Dora finished. Her fingers played with a button on his pyjama top. "So what's the problem?"

"I'm just wondering if there's anything else we've missed." Remus admitted. "It's worrying that Harry had to have a visit from the dead before we thought about this."

"You've been really close to this for a long time and I know you have a ton of plans already." Dora commented after a moment's silence. "You can't beat yourself up for not seeing every detail."

"We can't afford to fail." Remus rejoined. "If we do…"

"Fate of the wizarding world," sighed Dora, "I know."

"No," Remus said sharply, "Harry will be dead and so no doubt will Sirius." He felt his heart begin to pound just at the thought of it. "I can't lose them again."

Dora immediately tightened her grip. "You won't lose them."

Remus felt his throat close up and he hugged her to him rather than say the words that threatened to escape any way; that she couldn't promise that he wouldn't lose them.

"Are you still intending to be with Sirius?" Dora asked softly.

Remus nodded. "I can't be anywhere else."

Even though the rest of his werewolf pack and their allies would be helping; would be standing up to defend Hogwarts.

Severus hadn't found an antidote for the potion but he had found that a single dose of Wolfsbane before being hit with the potion allowed the werewolf to retain their mind. It was a compromise. Remus had been very clear that no werewolf would be allowed to participate in the battle without taking the Wolfsbane. He was proud that many of his pack had stepped forward to volunteer. They all loved Harry and their wolves definitely considered him pack.

Cub.

Remus's mind slipped to the moment Lily had handed him Harry as a baby. He hadn't been allowed near the inside of the maternity ward due to his lycanthropy so he'd had to wait for them to return home. It had been one of the most magical moments of his life. He figured holding his own child would be similar and he was pleased that Dora had opted for an at-home water-birth that would allow him to be near.

He hadn't told her how Harry had explained the fertility of the Black women had been enhanced by their participation in the blessing.

There was always a consequence.

He wondered what price magic would exact for the coming ritual. Perhaps it would be more children down the line; he could live with that. Both he and Dora were already agreed that they didn't want their baby to be an only child.

"Patrick respects Gregor." Dora commented. "They'll be fine." She sighed and fiddled with his button again. "I don't mind telling you that I'm glad we have this ritual to do. It'll make a difference. I was a dreading staying here twiddling my thumbs while you and Sirius and Remus were all fighting."

Remus hugged her closer. "You'll be in the safest place in Britain now."

Dora raised her head to look at him. "You know where this secret place is?" Her voice was rich with amusement.

"It's the bolthole Sirius gave to Harry." Remus said confidently. "I'd place money on it."

"Yeah," Dora grinned at him, "how much money, Wolfie?"

"Let's call it a galleon."

"Hmmm." Dora lay her head down again. "A galleon it is then."

Remus dropped a kiss on her head. "Sleep, Dora."

"You too." Dora said quietly.

It took a few minutes but eventually her breathing evened out. Remus let his free hand stray to the curve of her belly pressed against him.

Mothers.

Why had no-one ever considered how important a mother would be in Voldemort's ritual? Especially a ritual about rebirth…

Remus entered his small bedsit with a sigh, shaking his damp hair with a grimace. He'd left his last umbrella on the Tube and he didn't have enough funds to replace it. He knew he'd only have to say as much to his mother and she'd probably just give him hers but he would be fine, he told himself briskly. A little damp wouldn't hurt his constitution; the wolf was good at least for combating coughs, colds and sniffles. 

A tap on the raindrop smeared window drew his attention and he shrugged out of his wet coat and toed off his shoes to hurry over. He opened the latch and the owl hopped inside, sticking out its leg imperiously. 

Remus smiled at the sight of James's small owl. "Hello, Godric." He ushered the owl inside the room, closed the window against a harsh October wind and the continuing driving rain. He fed the owl and took the letter from him instantly recognising Lily's handwriting.

He set it on the table and hurried to switch on the small two-bar electric fire next to his sofa-bed. The small kitchenette area had a basic electric kettle and a small gas stove and grill. He lit the grill, opened up the shop-bought crumpets he'd bought the day before and toasted them while he made a pot of tea. He took his meagre supper back to the sofa bed and tucked in, wiping his buttery fingers on a tissue. 

He opened up the letter and smiled at the sight of a new photo of Harry. He hadn't seen Harry or Harry's parents since the beginning of the Summer. He'd spent months abroad and with the packs for Albus before he'd finally managed to convince the leader of the Order of the Phoenix that he needed a break. 

He'd come home only to find himself immediately sent out again to raise support in the British pack. He snorted; like Greyback would allow dissent in his pack. Not that it stopped some of them. Sian was the most vocal. He'd had to silence her at the last meeting she'd been so loud and if Greyback caught wind of what she had been proposing…

Remus sighed. Possibly he should tell Professor Dumbledore to send him abroad again if only to escape Sian's fanaticism with getting rid of Greyback. It would probably suit his former Headmaster; he'd been hinting about Eastern Europe at the last Order meeting.

Sirius hadn't attended again. 

But then again, neither had James and Lily; they had gone into hiding to escape being targeted. Remus couldn't blame them given what had happened to Lily's parents earlier that year.

Baby Harry giggled cutely from the safe harbour of his mother's arms in the photo and Remus smiled. He missed his cub. 

He missed all of them. 

He hadn't seen Peter for months either. 

He and Sirius had crossed paths in an Order raid a few months before and managed to get a drink together, but it had been fleeting and Sirius had been distracted. They'd run into an Auror who had drunkenly accused Sirius of mis-firing a spell meant for his cousin Bella. Remus hadn't believed them but…but he'd rumours abroad of a Death Eater who looked like Sirius, and Sirius had been missing for a long time the previous year until he'd come back supposedly from a mission almost fatally injured. Then there were the missed Order meetings…

Remus grimaced at the nagging suspicion that had wormed its way inside of him. He couldn't quite help remembering Sirius's ruthless Black side even as he felt guilty. Sirius would never support You-Know-Who, Remus thought determinedly. Apart from anything Sirius's friendship and love for the Potters – all three of them – would keep him on the side of the Light.

Remus set the photo aside and picked up the letter; there were several other pieces of scroll attached to it. All of them were blank.

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good." Remus said out loud and tapped his wand on the paper.

Words immediately filled up the blank space.

"Dear Remus,

I need your help. I've found this spell to help protect Harry. It's from an old Runes book on Witch magic. Why they don't teach it in school is a mystery because it is the most fascinating spell-work I've read about. 

The spell involves a protection ceremony where I'd use my blood and Harry's to draw protective symbols all over his body. It has to be done at dawn, ideally in a grove of elder trees surrounded by a coven of seven witches. It does say a circle of flowers grown by me and candles to stand for the witches is fine, although the spell's power will be weaker, and is more likely given James and I are hiding away to protect our son.

Please could you take a look at the spell? I need another pair of eyes and there's no-one else I trust more on magical theory.

Godric will stay with you until you have a reply.

I hope Albus isn't talking you into taking too many risks. Harry misses his Uncle Mooey. 

All my love, Lily"

Remus frowned heavily and began to read the rest of the spell…

Remus's eyes flew open.

How had he forgotten? The original spell called for a coven of witches. He had to…

Dora stirred restlessly beside him and Remus forced himself to settle back into the pillow, to breathe and slow his heart rate down. There was nothing he could do until morning but in the morning…he and Sirius had seven more witches to charm into taking part in the ritual…

o-O-o

19 th /20 th June 1995 

The shift into the dream was something he was getting used to, Harry mused as he took stock of his surroundings. He was in a classroom in Hogwarts. He vaguely recognised the shape and size, and froze as his gaze landed on a familiar shape hidden behind a cloth.

The Mirror of Erised. 

Harry shivered.

The last time he'd seen the mirror he'd been fighting for his life against Voldemort. 

"The more things change…" muttered Harry thoughtfully.

He glanced around the room again and frowned. It wasn't the chamber where he'd fought Voldemort, he realised. The classroom was the one where he'd originally found the mirror. The room where he'd looked into the glass and seen his parents. He frowned.

He'd been so naïve about the wizarding world back then; still so much in awe of the wonders he saw, the strange weird reality of magic. The mirror had been a blessing and the most painful experience of his life. To see his parents so close and yet to not be with him…

Yet he wouldn't change it. He had looked into the mirror and seen himself with his parents; seen the family they would have been. 

Still, he now had a family; he had Padfoot. He wasn't certain that he needed to look at the mirror again.

But there had to be some reason why the mirror was there. No ghost so far, Harry thought. His gaze strayed to the mirror. He bit his lip and sighed. It didn't take a genius to work out maybe he needed to reveal the large elephant in the room.

He crossed the room and reached out. He hesitated for another moment but then with a sharp tug, he removed the cloth and revealed the glass.

A young girl looked back at him; no older than sixteen. She had red hair, blue eyes, a slightly too long nose and bow-shaped lips; a tall slim figure dressed in a simple witch's robe. A silver charm bracelet glinted on one wrist. She vaguely reminded him of someone but he had no real idea who she was, and even with the hair colour he figured she wasn't a relation.

Harry stared at her.

"Well met, Harry James Potter." The young girl sank into a curtsy. "I am Ariana Dumbledore." 

Harry automatically bowed to her. He stared at her again. "I'm sorry," he said, confusion colouring every word, "I, um, I guess I was expecting…"

"Someone related to you." Ariana smiled prettily. "You have a lot of relatives but it's very important that I speak with you so I was granted one of your visits." She pouted. "It's more difficult visiting you though. I had to find something which connected me, Albie and you."

Hence the mirror, Harry realised. 

"He sees you in the mirror." Harry frowned. "He told me he saw socks."

Ariana held up a pair of knitted bright gold and red socks. "I always gave him socks for Christmas. It was our tradition."

Harry nodded slowly. The Headmaster had answered his question back then truthfully but not wholly. It was very like him.

"I'm here to talk to you about Albie." Ariana said solemnly.

Harry gestured at her to continue and sat down in front of the mirror, grimacing at the all-too accurate detail of the dusty floor. Ariana smiled back at him and dropped down to sit at the bottom of the mirror. She arranged her skirts neatly and pinned him with a serious gaze.

"Once upon a time there was a family; a wizard, a muggleborn witch and their three children; the oldest Albus, the middle sibling Aberforth, and the youngest, Ariana." She began. "Ariana was only a small child of six, playing one day in a field by their house when her accidental magic of a twinkling bright set of coloured lights attracted the attention of a group of muggle boys. They surrounded her, called her a witch and demanded she bring the lights back." 

Harry could picture the scene only too well. "They bullied her."

"They didn't stop at words." Ariana said softly. "When they couldn't make her produce the lights again, they began to push and shove her; when she ended up on the ground they set about her, throwing stones at her for being unnatural. Ariana's magic was left twisted and chaotic by the attack; she would never be normal."

Harry felt angry at the boys for the trauma they'd put Ariana through; had Ariana died in the encounter, he wondered.

"Her father came searching for her and when he found her and the boys, he attacked them badly, killing one of the ringleaders." Ariana sighed. "He refused to tell the Aurors why he'd attacked the boys to protect his daughter from being committed to an institution. Instead he was sent to Azkaban. Alone with her family to raise, the witch took her children back to her home village of Godric's Hollow. She bought a small cottage and set about raising her children. She was so proud of Albus who was so clever and powerful, and Aberforth who was quite the dueller. She was protective of her daughter, shielding her from harm. For a time all was well with the family although they missed their father immensely."

Harry watched as Ariana's expression saddened.

"Albus had just graduated from Hogwarts when his mother was killed by Ariana in a burst of accidental magic caused by the news of the death of their father in the prison. Albus and Aberforth covered up the incident to protect their sister and buried their mother." Ariana smiled suddenly. "Aberforth loved his sister and he wanted to drop out of Hogwarts to be with her but Albus insisted on his younger brother finishing school. And so, Albus stayed home and looked after his sister instead of setting out to achieve great and wonderful things."

That had to have been hard on the Headmaster, Harry thought. It was quite a responsibility for a young man to take on. And yet he knew the Headmaster wouldn't have made any other decision.

"'I will do what is right not what is easy.'" Ariana quoted with twinkling blue eyes. "It was the last thing father said to us." She sighed. "Albus tried, he really did, but then…he was a young man trapped in a small backwater village with all his hopes and dreams placed on hold. He resented it badly although he was always careful never to show just how much to his sister."

"Only something happened." Harry surmised.

"A young German wizard, a great-nephew of their neighbour, came to visit. Gellert was handsome and dashing; clever and just as magically powerful as Albus. He rather swept Albus off his feet." Ariana said in a rush. "They would debate and talk for hours on all kinds of magical theory; made wild and wonderful plans to conquer the world together. Albus fell hopelessly in love and when Gellert suggested an old-fashioned world tour, he couldn't help but agree."

"He left you?" demanded Harry hotly, unable to believe the Headmaster had shirked such a duty to his family.

"Oh no." Ariana shook her head vehemently. "Albus wouldn't consider that. No, he would have taken Ariana with him, although neither he nor Gellert had considered the practicalities of that, but…it was suddenly Summer and Aberforth came home."

"So he left his sister with Aberforth?" questioned Harry.

Ariana shook her head. "Aberforth wasn't impressed by Gellert. He didn't see the passionate German through the eyes of young love. Where Albus saw vision, Abe saw greed and ambition; where Albus saw rebellious determination against what others thought, Abe saw a ruthlessly cold arrogance. Albus argued that he and Gellert were two peas in the same pod but Abe knew they were more like opposites of the same coin; powerful, intellectual and ambitious but where Albus was rooted in the Light, Gellert Grindelwald was rooted in the Dark."

Harry's eyes widened. The Headmaster had been in love with Gellert Grindelwald? The same Dark Lord Grindelwald who he'd duelled and defeated?

"Aberforth walked in one morning on a planning session and, hot-tempered, began arguing about their plans for Ariana, for the world." She sighed heavily. "Aberforth foolishly pulled his wand and demanded a duel and Gellert was cruel and fast. He soon had the young Aberforth on the floor and then he cast the Cruciatus curse. Albus defended his brother and there was a horrible, horrible fight between the three." She paused and waited until he was looking fully at her. "And into the midst of the spell-fire walked Ariana." 

Harry winced. 

"Gellert fled, and the authorities blamed him in absentia for Ariana's tragic death, but in truth, not one of the three knew which of their spells had caused her heart to stop." Ariana murmured.

"That's…awful." Harry said.

"Albie and Abe…my brothers have rarely spoken since that day." Ariana grimaced. "They're both stubborn fools. Each of them wallowed in guilt and anger; self-recrimination and regret." 

Harry could understand that. Aberforth had to bear the truth that his temper had caused the fight; Albus that his dreams and plans had seeded the discontent; both that their spells may have been the one to end their sister's life.

"Abe forgave himself long ago." Ariana said, breaking into Harry's thoughts. "He grieved but he healed."

"And the Headmaster?" asked Harry.

"Albus has never forgiven himself." Ariana confirmed. "He grieves still for the loss of me. It is his greatest desire to see me, speak to me; to seek my forgiveness and provide him with his redemption, his salvation." She sighed heavily. "He would not have fought the ring, his need of the Resurrection stone would have been too much." Her gaze pinned him once more. "He would have held onto the shade of me until his magic was gone."

Harry knew the temptation of the stone. It had been wrenching to say goodbye to his parents but then he had Padfoot with him to help him; to give him the strength to lock the stone away again.

"My brother bleeds every day," Ariana said softly, "and it's long past time that he should heal. You need him."

Harry nodded gravely. The Headmaster was a powerful wizard and in the upcoming battle, he was needed to protect and hold Hogwarts. "What can I do?"

"I need you to give him a gift." Ariana murmured. "Something that will make him remember that where there is love there is life." 

Harry frowned. "What gift?"

Ariana held up the socks. 

He stared at her. 

"He'll understand." Ariana said confidently. 

Harry sighed. "How do I…I mean, you've got the socks in the mirror. How am I supposed to get them out of there?"

Ariana raised one eyebrow. "You've retrieved things from the mirror before, Harry."

Harry rolled his eyes as he understood her reference. "I don't want to wear the socks." He said clearly and almost immediately felt the wool in his hands…

He woke abruptly, startled at the solid scratchy material against the tips of his fingers. He stared down at the brightly coloured socks.

His heart beat fast in his chest as he scrambled upright, startling Hedwig.

How…?

Magic, thought Harry wearily. He silently cast a lumos and examined the socks again. Something was telling him not to wait for the morning. He needed to give the socks to the Headmaster without delay.

He pushed back the covers on his bed and got up. He shrugged into his dressing gown and put the socks into one of the deep pockets. He opened his bedroom door and wasn't surprised when Sirius's door opened almost immediately too.

"You alright?" asked Sirius gruffly. He looked as though he hadn't slept despite his own bed-wear of pyjamas and dressing gown, his dark hair loose around his shoulders.

"I need to see the Headmaster." Harry admitted.

Sirius blinked but he nodded slowly. He cast a messenger patronus to alert the Headmaster to their imminent arrival. He ushered Harry down the stairs and out of their rooms, casting his own lumos to light the way. Harry was immensely grateful at the lack of questions; the faith that Padfoot displayed in just accepting his answer.

Harry followed Sirius past the usual entrance to the Headmaster's study and down the corridor. A door appeared at the end of the corridor, opening up to them as they approached. Harry swallowed hard as he entered into a comfortable living area; comfortable squishy armchairs around a banked fire with bookcases lining the walls. Harry was barely aware of the door closing behind him.

Dumbledore hurried into the room from an entry way to the far left. He carried an old-fashioned candle-stick holder, and dressed in a long white nightgown, fluffy slippers and a matching blue fluffy sleeping cap and shawl, he reminded Harry of historical pictures from the turn of the century.

"Harry, my boy!" Dumbledore said urgently, placing the candle on a side table. "Have you had another dream?" Concern coated every word. "Is everything alright?"

Harry simply reached into his pocket and pulled out the socks. "Ariana wanted me to give these to you."

Dumbledore paled; still as a statue as his rheumy blue eyes fell to the socks and stayed there. He reached out with trembling hands and, ignoring the outstretched hand holding the socks, took hold of Harry's shoulders – the strength of his grip almost had Harry wincing and he waved off Sirius when his father took a step forward in concern.

"You saw Ariana?" Dumbledore's blue eyes were intent on his; his voice hoarse.

Harry nodded.

Dumbledore swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down prominently. He dropped his gaze to the socks. He released one of Harry's shoulders and almost reverently took hold of the woollen gift.

"Your sister wants you to forgive yourself." Harry murmured in a low voice. "Because we need you."

Dumbledore clutched the socks close to his heart and made a small wounded sound. He swayed and suddenly crumpled, falling to his knees, pressing his head into Harry's stomach as he sobbed wretchedly, with one hand still holding onto Harry's shoulder, the other gripping the socks.

Harry flailed before his settled his hands on Dumbledore's shaking shoulders, patting them awkwardly. He looked over at Sirius desperately.

Sirius gave a sympathetic grimace. He moved forward and wrapped an arm around Harry, his hand coming to rest over Dumbledore's and squeezing the older man's gently.

They waited until Dumbledore's storm of weeping had subsided before they moved again. Sirius deftly helped the old wizard to his feet, and firmly but compassionately led him over to a chair. Dobby was called and a moment later, a strong cup of tea liberally laced with lemon was handed over to the Headmaster.

Harry hovered to one side until Sirius took a seat on a small couch opposite Dumbledore and patted the cushion next to him in a silent invitation for Harry to join him.

Dumbledore stroked the socks he'd placed on his lap with a sigh. He looked up, a red blush stealing across his cheeks. "My sincere apologies for falling apart on you, Harry. I just…" he swallowed and shook his head, tears glinting again in his eyes. "I've thought…all these years."

Sirius cleared his throat. "I remember you told me once that you were tempted by the stone because you wanted so much to speak with your sister again after the tragedy of her death."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief that his father already knew the detail. It meant he didn't have to worry about giving away details the Headmaster might not have wanted someone else to know.

"Yes." Dumbledore said, replying to Sirius. "To beg her forgiveness…" his fingers stroked the woollen socks again. "Aberforth was her favourite but she always knitted a pair of socks for me for Yule and my birthday, just as I always gave her a charm for her bracelet. It was just a small tradition she and I had as sister and brother."

"You saw her in the Mirror of Erised." Harry said quietly.

"Yes," Dumbledore gave an apologetic smile, "along with the many pairs of socks she never had the chance to give to me." Regret was written in every line drawn on his elderly face. "I was a young fool."

"You couldn't know the argument between you all would end with so badly." Harry pointed out.

"No." Dumbledore agreed reluctantly. He sighed, looking up at Harry. "But it was my choice to bring Gellert into our lives."

"Gellert?" Sirius's eyebrows shot up as he made the connection.

Dumbledore flushed and avoided Sirius's gaze. "Yes."

"You still couldn't know what would happen." Harry insisted, his hands clasped loosely on his lap. "You didn't know your brother would challenge him or that he would be so cruel in response."

Dumbledore's smile was sad and regretful. "I knew Gellert's faults; I simply chose to ignore them because I loved him. I chose to assume the best about his vision and his motives. I chose to disregard the dark arts he spoke about as being experimentation and youthful indiscretion rather than an already chosen path. I invited a poisonous snake into the bosom of my family; Aberforth was right about that."

"You were young and in love." Sirius said quietly. "We've all made foolish choices for worse reasons. You aren't to blame for your sister's death just because you fell in love with the wrong boy."

"Perhaps not fully," Dumbledore acknowledged, "but I took the first step in events that led to her death and I will always bear the responsibility for that error in judgement." He patted the socks. "What did she say?"

"That it was past time for you to forgive yourself." Harry said bluntly, not sure there was a way to dress up Ariana's message. "She says we're going to need you to hold Hogwarts."

"Then, I shall make every endeavour to do so." Dumbledore said in a firm decisive tone. "Thank you, Harry."

Harry didn't need Sirius's nudge to know it was time to leave. He got to his feet, grateful when Sirius slung an arm around his shoulders.

"We'll leave you to get some more sleep, Albus." Sirius said kindly. "G'night."

"Goodnight, boys." Dumbledore replied.

They made their way to the door which opened automatically to let them out. Harry glanced back over his shoulder…

Dumbledore sat in his chair, attention completely focused on the socks.

Harry shook his head. He had delivered Ariana's message. It was time to leave the Headmaster to his memories; to begin the healing he needed to do.

Sirius waited until they were back into their own quarters before he cleared his throat. "You alright?"

Harry shrugged and rubbed his gritty eyes. "Just tired."

"I'm not sure these nightly visitations are a good idea." Sirius murmured as they took the stairs back to the bedrooms.

Harry shrugged again. "If it helps…"

"As long as it helps." Sirius stopped Harry before he turned away to his room. He pulled him into a gentle hug and dropped a soft kiss on the top of his head. "Sleep well, Pronglet."

Harry pulled away a touch reluctantly and padded back into his bedroom. He closed the door softly, wrestled his way out of his dressing gown, and clambered back under the covers hurriedly. He closed his eyes and between one thought about the events that had just transpired and the next he fell asleep.

o-O-o

Sirius glared out of the window at the sight of the maze. It was partially masked by an obfuscation field but he knew it was there.

He sighed wearily.

It wasn't so much the maze that was the object of his ire but rather what it symbolised. The end of the tournament; the third task and the battle Harry might face beyond it.

Might.

Sirius was clinging onto the idea that they still could find Voldemort and end it all before Harry faced the third task. But it was becoming more and more evident with each passing day that it was almost a certainty that all of Sirius's efforts to keep his son safe would be in vain.

Not all his efforts, Sirius told himself sternly. He didn't discount his own role in Harry finding his power; the strength of family and friends; of allies. He had been given a boon from Death, and even if Sirius wanted to argue with how the nightly dreams were havoc on Harry's sleep, he couldn't deny that they were providing real help.

Minerva was gleeful. The coven of seven women had been established and were helping with the final preparations for the re-blessing ritual. It comforted Sirius to know that regardless of any victory Voldemort would gain in stealing it away, Harry would have Lily's protection back a short time later.

It also comforted Sirius to know that Lily had schooled Harry on sacrifice; on only doing so as a last resort. Harry simply giving his life to save everyone had been a worry that Sirius had tried not to dwell upon and he was glad Lily had faced Harry with it and gotten a guarantee that he would look to the future.

Sirius crossed his arms and continued to glare out at the maze.

He was less thrilled about the night before or rather that morning. He'd placed a charm around Harry's bed to let him know the instant Harry woke. Sirius hadn't been asleep when it had softly chimed. When he'd heard the muted creaks along the joints in the flooring he'd known Harry was up. Finding out that Harry had been visited by Dumbledore's sister of all people…

Not that he begrudged Albus the message of forgiveness. Having heard Albus speak of the events that had led to Ariana's death when they had discussed the stone, it was hard not to be moved by just how much Albus had needed to hear from his sister.

And Sirius could empathise – hadn't he needed the same benediction from James and Lily? Hadn't he needed to hear from their lips that his idea to use Peter, misguided and misjudged as it had been, was forgiven? He was certain the socks had provided Albus with the same soul-deep salvation that Sirius had found in the cemetery at New Year. Maybe it would make a difference to Albus in the battle; maybe it would make a difference to holding Hogwarts or seeing it crumble…

All of which brought Sirius back to the real focus of his rumination and the underlying cause for his ire; Severus Snape.

The problem was that the discussion with Albus had hit uncomfortably close to Snape's situation. Snape had been the one to tell Voldemort about the prophecy. He'd set things in motion just as Albus had given into the temptation to bring Gellert – and Merlin, Albus and Gellert Grindelwald! – into his life. If Ariana who had suffered the ultimate consequence of Albus's action could forgive her brother, did it mean that Snape should also be forgiven for his transgression?

It was different, Sirius told himself stubbornly. Snape had willing told a wizard, who was known to kill and torture, about a potential unborn nemesis. He had signed the death warrant of that child, whoever that child was, at that moment. He had done so without hesitation or thought of the consequences.

Albus had been young and stupid in love. He had simply fallen for the wrong type and ignored any inner voice cautioning him about the object of his affections. He had never intentionally led Gellert into an inevitable showdown with Aberforth; had never had foresight that a fight where someone would be killed would happen.

It was different.

And it was the same.

Hadn't Snape been seduced by words of flattery and admiration? Hadn't Snape been young and foolish? Perhaps he'd known his information would paint a target on someone but he'd had no way of knowing for certain whether Voldemort would take the prophecy seriously. In the end, was Snape's culpability any worse than Sirius's own?

And if Sirius had wanted so badly to be forgiven…if Albus had wanted to badly to be forgiven…Snape's want had to be just as large and just as edged with sharp razors that kept the wound bleeding.

Sirius grimaced.

He didn't want to forgive Snape. But he couldn't deny that there were events in motion larger than the small role Snape had played; Fate and Death and a Champion's role decided long before Snape had ever overheard part of a prophecy.

He'd never forgive Snape for how he'd treated Harry in the years before Sirius had taken him into his care. Snape had no excuse for that at all.

It wasn't like it was Sirius's forgiveness that Snape probably needed, Sirius argued internally. Snape wanted Lily's forgiveness more than any other. But that didn't mean that Sirius couldn't make a gesture…

He sighed heavily and lurched from the window, snapping up the waiting brown-paper wrapped package from where he'd placed it hours before. He veritably stormed out of his and Harry's quarters, out of Gryffindor tower and down to the dungeons.

He rapped impatiently on Snape's door.

Snape yanked the door open and glared at him. "Am I to have no peace today?!" He sneered before whirling around in a billow of robes, stalking back into his room.

Sirius raised his eyebrows and went after him. A quick glance at the open bottle of whiskey on the side table and a discarded tea pot with the Headmaster's lemon biscuits told another story. "Albus been by, has he?"

"Aren't you here to do the same?" Snape snatched up the whiskey and poured himself a large measure. "Lecture me about the benefits of forgiving oneself's for transgressions that get others brutally killed?" He waved the bottle at Sirius wildly. "As if he understands anything."

"He lost his sister." Sirius said mildly.

"And I lost…" Snape cut his yell short, holding the bottle against himself almost like a shield.

"You lost someone you loved." Sirius said evenly. He sighed, sat down on the arm of the Paisley sofa, and gestured at the bottle. "You have another of those?"

Snape looked at him wild-eyed and bewildered, but he conjured up another glass and a moment later, thrust it into Sirius's waiting hand. Snape retreated to an armchair across from Sirius.

They both took a sip, grimaced and settled.

"I hate these fucking dreams." Sirius confessed baldly.

Snape grunted his agreement.

"Harry got maybe three hours actual sleep last night." Sirius continued. "Like that's enough when he's preparing for the fight of his life." He tossed back the rest of the whiskey.

Snape raised his own glass. "He seems to be handling it better than the rest of us."

"If he didn't have strength he would never have survived this far." Sirius held out his glass.

Snape levitated the bottle over to him.

Sirius chucked the package across the space as he took hold of the bottle and poured himself another drink.

Snape set his own drink down and examined the package suspiciously. "What is it?"

"Lily had things from her childhood stored in the attic at Godric's Hollow. Bill and Caro packed them up when they cleared the house." Sirius motioned with his glass. "I duplicated the photos of you and Lily." He glanced toward the bedroom. "You might keep everything of value at your own home, Snape, but even you probably had a treasured photo tucked away."

Snape's hands clutched around the wrapped package almost as tightly as Dumbledore had held the socks the night before.

"Why?" Snape asked, almost as wide-eyed as he had been at the start of their conversation.

"Because we were all young and foolish." Sirius drank back the second whiskey and got to his feet. "I won't forgive you what you did any more than you can forgive me for daring you to face a werewolf." He raised a hand. "And whether you forgive yourself or not is your decision; not mine, not Albus's," he paused, "and not even Lily's." His grey eyes met Snape's dark brooding gaze. "What's true is that Ariana came because we need Albus and what is equally true is that we need you in this fight. Your forgiveness is your own business, Severus, but you should know that just because Lily has never given Harry a pair of socks for you, it doesn't mean you aren't needed."

Sirius set his glass down with a small thud on the side table and made for the door.

"Black."

Sirius stopped and turned around.

Snape raised the package a touch. "Thank you. For the photos."

Sirius gave a sharp nod and left before he was tempted to grab the remainder of the bottle.