Chapter 44: Pronglet Returns to Hogwarts:6

23rd October 1994

"You know you don't have to come to the game if you don't want to, Ron and I won't mind, will we?"

Hermione's eyes snapped up from the book she had been reading, oblivious to her porridge which was half-forgotten and dripping from her drooping spoon back into the bowl. She stared at Harry across the table; he was avoiding her gaze by keeping his own fixed to the meagre breakfast he was eating. He never ate much the morning of a Quidditch match and that day saw the opening match of the season between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw despite the wet October weather.

Next to him Ron was staring at his own plate of food with unusual reluctance. He jerked suddenly as though Harry had kicked him under the table and nodded. "Yeah, it's fine." Ron agreed hastily.

"Of course I'm coming to the match." Hermione said briskly. "I wouldn't miss Ron's first game for anything."

Ron paled under his freckles. "Right. My first game." He placed a hand on his stomach. "You know I think there's something wrong with the sausage."

Harry raised his eyes and rolled them expressively as he pushed a glass of pumpkin juice towards Ron. "There's nothing wrong with the sausage."

"You haven't eaten any of it." Ron retorted.

"Neither have you." Harry pointed out.

The sausage sat on Ron's plate as untouched as the bacon, fried potatoes and beans next to it.

"Have some toast, Ron." Hermione said sympathetically. "You need to eat something."

Ron gingerly picked up a slice, slathered it with butter and started nibbling on it.

"I just meant," Harry said, returning to his original topic with Ron sorted, "that as much as we appreciate you watching us, if you'd rather do something else, something you enjoy, that's alright with us."

It was sweet of Harry to offer her the out but Quidditch had always been an important part of their friendship and regardless that she hated the game and watching it, and really she hated watching Harry play the game because it had never yet failed to almost kill him, Hermione wasn't going to stop watching.

"I want to watch you play Quidditch." Hermione said stubbornly. "Both of you." She hastily added on as she belated realised it sounded like she only watched for Harry.

Harry and Ron both smiled at her.

Ron swallowed the last of his toast. "You could read a book though if you wanted while you watched. Right, Harry?"

Harry nodded. "What are you reading anyway?"

"Farringtomen's Theory of Magical Meditation." Hermione said. "Professor McGonagall recommended it. She said it helped her so maybe it would help me." Her animagus training was all held up because Hermione couldn't switch her brain off. Ron was having more success achieving a meditative state than she was although he'd yet failed to find the lucid dreaming that would lead to the revelation of his available forms.

"I wouldn't mind reading it when you're done." Harry said.

Ron sighed. "I swear if you could read a book on a broomstick you would these days."

Harry shrugged although there was a faint hint of red in cheeks that signalled his embarrassment.

"I think it's a good thing." Hermione declared. And she did think it was a good thing despite the fact that Harry was ahead of her academically in some of their subjects and on a par with her in the others except for Potions (and there Hermione suspected it was because Snape just couldn't bring himself to award Harry anything higher than an Exceeds Expectation).

"You would." Ron shot back.

Hermione glared at him before she turned to Harry. "Is Sirius still planning to meet with Professor McGonagall?" She kept her voice low.

Harry nodded jerkily. "He wanted to do it this week but with the whole tournament thing, Professor McGonagall's too busy and she wanted to confer with the other Professors anyway. So, I think they're meeting a week Wednesday?"

"What do you think will happen?" asked Hermione.

"I'm not sure." Harry admitted unhappily pushing back his sleeves. "It's complicated because even though I'm ahead practically, most of the theory stuff is new to me although it kind of makes more sense now. So…" he lifted a shoulder and dropped it, "Sirius thinks they'll give me an independent lesson plan."

"That sucks, mate." Ron commiserated.

"No, that's brilliant." Hermione said, refusing to acknowledge the kernel of jealousy that had lodged in her gut at the idea of having an independent lesson plan. She knew she was smart and she was keeping pace with Harry on the theory side, but she couldn't match Harry's power or his practical prowess anymore.

"I just hope I get to stay in the fourth year classes." Harry said.

Hermione nodded. "I'm surprised Sirius hasn't suggested taking you out of Hogwarts and home-schooling you."

"We talked about it but I don't want to leave you guys so…" Harry admitted with a blush.

Ron slung an arm around his shoulders. "We don't want you to go either. You're our star Seeker."

Hermione and Harry simply looked at him.

Ron caved. "Well, not just because you're our star Seeker."

All three of them laughed.

"Speaking of…" Harry poked Ron. "We should head to the changing rooms and start getting ready for the match."

"Right." Ron's face lost its colour again. "The match."

"I'll see you out there." Hermione said cheerfully.

"Bring a book!" Harry ordered as he dragged Ron away.

Hermione shook her head, her hair spilling over her shoulders. She pushed it away absently as she turned back to her book.

"Getheringmay's Theory of the Active Mind would be better." Luna slipped into the seat next to Hermione and started helping herself to the remaining platters of breakfast.

Hermione glanced up, shot a look at a third year boy who was looking at Luna with ill-disguised contempt, and turned to her friend. "Why do you say that?"

"Your mind is too busy for the exercises that Farringtomen recommends." Luna said serenely, tucking into an enormous stack of pancakes that she had liberally drizzled in syrup. "You'll go mad thinking of nothing."

"But isn't that the point of meditation?" questioned Hermione. "To get to that point where your mind is clear and still?"

"For normal people," Luna said, twirling her fork at Hermione, "but you're not normal. To make your mind happy it needs to be busy. It's not going to be happy if you make it shut up and that means it won't give you what you want."

Hermione sighed and closed her book. She had a feeling Luna was right. "Are you planning on going to the Quidditch match?"

Luna cocked her head as though listening to something. "No, but you are."

"I am," agreed Hermione morosely because she was a good friend who would go and support her friends even if they said she didn't have to be there.

"Where's Neville?" asked Luna brightly.

"He and Hannah are on a practice breakfast date." Hermione explained with a small grimace.

She had actually been in favour of the idea when Harry had raised it. Theo's original suggestion of fake dating was pragmatic and useful for giving Harry some needed cover especially when the revelation of his sessions with the mind healer increased his attractiveness rather than diminished it. The fact that it would also provide some practice at dating was also a practical advantage that Hermione appreciated. Maybe a part of her had been disappointed that Harry would only want to date her as practice and to avoid his stalkers but Hermione wasn't above taking what she could get; a date with Harry was still a date with Harry.

But unfortunately, Hannah and Susan had been overheard by Ernie and Justin who had talked with Terry and Michael who'd been overheard by Lisa and Padma, and within a day the whole of the fourth year knew about it. A day later the whole school knew about it. Practice dating was suddenly all the rage except with the person who it had originally been intended for: Harry.

And, well, Hermione.

Nobody had asked her to go on a practice date, especially not Harry. She tried hard not to feel discouraged by that. Other girls hadn't been asked out by anyone either, she reminded herself briskly. As far as she knew Morag and Lisa hadn't. And Harry wasn't the only boy who was shying away from the whole thing; Ron had so far ignored all the hints Lavender had dropped in his path (Hermione was waiting for her just to jump him), and Draco had avoided Pansy like she was the carrier of some fatal plague.

"Isn't this the third practice date Neville and Hannah have had?" hummed Luna with an innocent expression that was completely faked.

Hermione smiled. "Fourth, if you include the last Hogsmeade weekend."

Neville and Hannah had gone to browse the shops just the two of them while Susan had ended up tagging along with the original Gryffindor trio to see Sirius at the School House where Dobby had plied them all with cookies and hot chocolate.

"Do you think they'll still call it practicing when they get married?" joked Luna.

Hermione chuckled, her mood lightening. "It's a possibility." And it was a possibility; Neville and Hannah seemed really happy together and their families both approved of the fledgling relationship. She decided to change the subject. "So what are you up to today?"

"Charms essay." Luna said happily, finishing her pancakes. "I'm going to spend the day in the library."

Tactically it was a good move since most of the rest of the school would be at the Quidditch match.

Hermione checked her watch and sighed. "I'll walk with you and pick up that book you recommended. You really think it'll make a difference?"

"I think you'll see what you need to see when you need to see it." Luna said matter-of-factly. "But the book couldn't hurt?"

They chatted all the way to the library. The book turned out to be a hefty volume and Hermione tucked it in her satchel under the watchful eyes of Madame Pince. She said goodbye to Luna and raced to the tower to get her outdoor cloak.

She was surging down the steps of the Gryffindor girls' stairwell when she heard crying in the third year dormitory. She paused, torn between the urge to get to the match and the sense of obligation to check nobody was injured or truly upset. She hovered for a long moment on the landing before she sighed and tapped on the door.

There was no answer but Hermione pushed the door open and peered into the room. It was empty save for Ginny curled up on her bed, crying.

"Ginny!" Hermione hurried over to the younger girl. "Are you OK?"

Ginny hunched away from the touch of Hermione's hand on her shoulder. "I'm fine."

Hermione debated whether to leave the younger girl to it, but Ginny was clearly not fine and Hermione's compassion stirred. She sat down tentatively next to Ginny, ignoring the vibe of 'leave me alone' emanating from Ginny in waves.

"What's happened?" asked Hermione softly.

"You wouldn't understand!" Ginny sobbed, not looking at her.

Hermione resisted the urge to sigh. "I understand you were supposed to be pitch-side as a reserve for the team so I'm assuming something happened to stop that?"

Ginny swiped a hand at her face and nodded.

"What happened?" Hermione pressed with a sinking sensation that whatever it was she wasn't going to like it.

"You're going to yell at me like Angelina did." Ginny said simply, sniffling.

Hermione stayed silent and waited her out.

"It was stupid," Ginny admitted, "I mean, I know it was stupid but Lydia and Jessica wouldn't stop asking and…"

"And?" prompted Hermione impatiently, although truthfully she could see where Ginny's confession was heading.

"I let them into the changing rooms." Ginny blurted out, wiping her hand over her wet cheeks.

Of course she had.

"There are separate areas, aren't there?" Hermione asked. "What did they think they were going to see?"

"It works like the stairs here." Ginny explained with a huff. "The boys can't get into the girls' changing rooms but…"

"But the girls can get into the boys." Hermione sighed heavily and pinched the brow of her nose. "You tried to sneak Lydia and Jessica into the boys' changing room."

"We didn't actually see anything." Ginny complained with a sniff. "Fred spotted us and George chased us out." She gave a hitching little sob. "Angelina went ballistic."

Completely understandable, Hermione thought dryly. She would have gone ballistic in Angelina's place.

"She told me that I was banned from playing as reserve today and…and…" Ginny started crying again, "she's going to talk to me later about my place on the team! She's going to drop me! I know she is!"

If Angelina did, Hermione wouldn't blame her; Ginny's lack of regard for Harry's – well, all the boys' privacy was appalling.

"She'll give you a second chance." Hermione said to Ginny confidently. "You made a mistake but as long as you sincerely apologise and don't even think of doing it again, it'll be fine."

At least Hermione thought Angelina would be OK with it although if she had any hint that Ginny's interest in Quidditch was primarily to get closer to Harry she'd probably not give Ginny a second chance. It could be worse, Hermione reminded herself; Ginny hadn't followed Romilda Vane's example and headed to a mind healer to have something in common with Harry (although after the events in the Chamber of Secrets with the basilisk Ginny really did need to see one in everyone's opinion except for Ginny's it seemed), and Ginny was genuinely interested in Quidditch beyond Harry.

"Harry hates me!" Ginny sobbed.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Harry doesn't hate you."

"He barely talks to me!" Ginny argued angrily. "He avoids me!"

"You and your friends are basically stalking him everywhere!" Hermione retorted.

Ginny turned over and glared at her. "We do not stalk him!"

"Ginny, you've just tried to get you and your friends into the boys' changing rooms to spy on him!" Hermione pointed out. "You're hardly in a position to argue the matter." She held up a hand. "Do you remember our conversation at the end of the last school year? If you want to be Harry's friend, then you need to start acting like his friend and not some…some obsessed girl who doesn't know he wouldn't appreciate being gawked at in the changing rooms!"

"You don't understand!" Ginny snapped, her eyes flashing stormily at Hermione. "It's alright for you – you share classes with him and you're always with him!"

"That's an exaggeration and…"

"And you're the one he's most likely to ask on a practice date!" Ginny brushed away another set of angry tears. "Or a real date! Everyone says so!"

Hermione's heart started to race at that. What did Ginny mean? Did everyone know Hermione liked Harry? And why was everyone – the mythical everyone – so sure Harry would date her? Did they think he liked her? A flicker of hope sprung up before Hermione could stop it. She ruthlessly suppressed it again.

"Well, if everyone thinks that," Hermione began officiously, "it's only because Harry and I are friends."

Ginny turned away from her again, crossing her arms over her chest, her chin sticking up stubbornly in a manner that reminded Hermione of Ron.

"And I believe I told you that being Harry's friend was the most important thing." Hermione added.

"I am his friend!"

"Do you really think that sneaking Lydia and Jessica into the changing rooms to spy on Harry is an act of a friend?" Hermione shot back.

"Lydia and Jessica asked me to help them! What was I supposed to say? They're my friends!"

And that was more evidence that the two girls who'd befriended Ginny hadn't really befriended her at all. Hermione felt for the younger girl.

"No would have been a start." Hermione said sternly. "If that's the kind of things they ask you to do maybe they aren't your friends." She glanced around the empty dorm. "Where are Lydia and Jessica anyway?"

"At the game." Ginny said.

Which just proved the point, Hermione thought.

"I'm going to head there now." Hermione stated firmly. "Would you like to come with me?"

Ginny threw her a disbelieving look before she shuffled off her bed hurriedly and stormed off to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

"I'll take that as a no then." Hermione said to the empty room. She threw on her cloak and made for the pitch.

The stands were already heaving with people, the game already begun when Hermione made her way towards a waving Neville. He made Parvati budge up so Hermione could sit next to him in the seat he had ostensibly saved for her. She waved to Sirius who was seated next to Professor McGonagall in the teacher's section and he waved back at her.

"Where've you been?" asked Neville, blowing on his hands to warm them.

"Ginny." Hermione shook her head. "I'll tell you later. What's the score?"

"Sixty-all." Neville grimaced unhappily waving at the hoops where Ron was placed as Keeper. "Ron's been unable to save any and it's sheer luck that our Chasers are good enough to keep up." He motioned to the other side of the pitch where Harry was helping to distract the Ravenclaw Chasers, dogged by the Ravenclaw Seeker, Cho Chang. "We're pretty much hoping Harry gets the Snitch at this point."

Hermione settled into watch as the game progressed. The Gryffindor Chasers were good and maintaining their possession of the Quaffle; Fred and George had fallen back to help guard the hoops; Harry was contributing more than simply searching for the Snitch. The team was working as a team to help Ron's failing nerves, Hermione realised.

"I think if he could save one then he'd have some confidence and be able to save others." Neville murmured.

"He'll save one," Lavender said brightly from beside Parvati, "he's just warming up!"

"I'm sure you're right, Lavender." Hermione agreed because even if Lavender was only saying it because she wanted to date Ron, Hermione was Ron's friend and she was going to join in any effort to show Ron support.

"Cho hasn't left Harry's side." Parvati complained.

"I think they're hoping she'll distract him." Lavender said authoritatively. "It's a tactic the Holyhead Harpies use against male players all the time."

"She is very pretty." Parvati allowed.

Hermione tried to ignore the flare of jealousy. Harry wasn't interested in Cho. He wasn't.

"Cho's going out on a practice date with Cedric Diggory." Neville said.

All three girls turned to stare at him.

"What?" Neville said, flushing bright red. "It's the talk of Hufflepuff!"

Lavender winked at him. "Well, you should know, Neville, the amount of time you spend practicing with the Hufflepuffs these days." Her smile was friendly and teasing rather than bitchy and Neville simply looked chuffed.

Harry flew across the pitch in a sudden move that distracted the Ravenclaws completely and allowed Katie Bell to score another goal. The Gryffindor stand erupted in cheers. Harry stopped just in front of Ron for a moment before he flew off again.

Suddenly, there was a shift as Roger Davies, the Ravenclaw Captain, intercepted the Quaffle and flew with intent towards the hoops.

Hermione felt her heart pounding. "Come on, Ron!" She muttered. "Come on! You can do it!"

Roger was lining up, the Ravenclaw Beaters were sending the Bludgers towards the Gryffindor Chasers keeping them at bay and Cho was following Harry…

Roger threw the Quaffle…

Ron moved!

He swept across the hoop and threw out his long arms and…

He saved the Quaffle, punting it down where it was picked up by Angelina who yelled something at him that was lost in the noise as the Gryffindor stand whistled and cheered.

"Weasley is our King!" commented Lee Jordan delightedly.

The chant was taken up and Hermione joined in, so pleased for Ron that her face hurt from smiling.

The game progressed with alacrity after that; Ron saving more than he let through; the Gryffindor Chasers adding to the score bit by bit to keep the lead.

"Oh Merlin!" Neville clutched at Hermione suddenly and pointed.

Harry was diving, racing towards the ground at high speed…Cho on his heels and…

The Snitch was almost on the ground, darting around the blades of grass, before it took off sharply shifting upwards.

"Pull up, pull up, pull up!" Hermione muttered.

Harry changed direction as though he'd heard her but he levelled out and…reached…Cho just behind him…

The Snitch was his!

Harry raised his arm, the Snitch fluttering in his clenched fist, and he flew back to the hoop level where his team-mates flew over to congratulate him.

Hermione hugged Neville before she turned back to the pitch and clapped along with everyone else.

"Brilliant!" Neville said. "Just brilliant!"

The players started to descend and Hermione grabbed Neville as she started to push her way through the mass of the crowd to get out of the stands and to the ground as quickly as possible. By the time, she and Neville had reached the Gryffindor team, Harry was shaking hands with Cho and Ron had been hoisted onto his brothers' shoulders where he was laughing with glee as the rest of Gryffindor surrounded him.

Hermione was pleased when Harry immediately left Cho as soon as he spotted her. She closed the distance between them and hugged him.

"That was fantastic!" Hermione said, vaguely aware that everyone else seemed to be leaving Harry to her and congratulating Ron instead.

Harry grinned. "You didn't read a book."

"You were watching me?" asked Hermione, loosening her hold on him to look at him properly.

Harry nodded, letting go of her with one hand to adjust his glasses. "Maybe a little."

She smiled at him happily. Maybe everyone was right, Hermione thought hopefully. Maybe Harry liked her liked her; maybe he would ask her on a date. Eventually, if she knew Harry, which she did. But she could be patient.

"The game was too exciting to read a book." Hermione declared belated realising Harry was waiting for her answer.

He smiled again, a little shyly. "You read a book during the World Cup."

Hermione shrugged and slipped her hand into his relieved the crowd was still amazingly leaving them alone. "Well, you weren't playing in the World Cup." She said.

His answering smile was affectionate and bright with a hope that flared to life in Hermione too.

A cough behind them had them both turning.

"Hey! You have one of those hugs for me?" Sirius grinned at him and Harry shot her an apologetic look as he let go and enthusiastically moved into Sirius's waiting arms.

Hermione didn't mind because she still had that burning flame of hope alight in her and for once she didn't ruthlessly suppress it.

o-O-o

28th October 1994

The Parisian café was everything good that Remus remembered about Paris; an outdoor table in view of the Eiffel tower, strong black coffee and wonderfully sweet petit fours. Opposite him, Richard Bones scoffed down another of the miniature pastries and Augusta sighed with contentment as she scooped up another. Remus watched them with amusement before he lifted his face to the weak sunshine and gave thanks that the weather had turned out so nice. It was a warm day for the end of October but he was glad of the lycanthropy for once; his elevated body temperature kept off the worst of the chill whereas his companions were bundled up in muggle tweed coats, thick woolly scarves and leather gloves.

"Paris is more beautiful than I remember it." Augusta said quietly. "Gerald and I came here on our honeymoon, and we'd revisit every year on our anniversary. I haven't been back since he died." She shook her head. "I should bring Neville. Gerald would have loved to have shown him the sights."

"I lived here for a number of years." Remus murmured. He'd felt exiled; unable to find work in England and without anyone to care that he was absent from his homeland. It was nothing, Remus thought guiltily, compared to what Sirius and Harry had had to endure. "It's a beautiful city."

"Now I feel very boring." Richard commented wryly. "We usually holiday in our place in Spain so we've rarely gone anywhere else."

"It was the fashion when I married to travel through Europe," Augusta commented, picking up her tea and wincing at the taste, "not the Grand Tours that used to be but the premise was similar."

"I rather had no choice in the matter." Remus pointed out gently. "It was travel for work or find a position in the muggle world."

"Well, now I feel less boring." Richard quipped. He grinned. "This is the most exciting thing I've done in years."

"Thank you for letting us come with you, Remus." Augusta added.

Remus didn't think he'd had much choice in the matter. He remembered all too well the Potter Alliance meeting with only the Ancient and Noble Houses where Sirius had spilled the beans on the issue of Harry's affinity with the family magic…

"…and so after discovering my Grandfather's research into it, we think that the origin story he found probably has the best explanation for why Harry can access your family magic; he's the most powerful wizard of his generation." Sirius sat back in his chair at the head of the Black Manor dining table.

The afternoon tea spread was half-diminished, most of the gathered allies tucking in before Sirius had begun to speak.

Remus observed who looked disturbed and who seemed more accepting around the table from his position at Sirius's left-hand side. They'd all had to take an Unbreakable Vow not to speak of anything revealed at the meeting with anyone outside of the meeting before Sirius would let them attend, despite their existing oaths to the House of Potter or not.

Augusta, on Sirius's right, nodded sharply. "Well, I think I can speak for most of us here when I say we can understand your reticence in sharing this before now."

Daniel Greengrass cleared his throat. There was a half-eaten and completely forgotten scone on the plate in front of him. "How powerful is Harry?"

"As powerful as Voldemort." Sirius stated simply. 

Some of the allies flinched at the mention of the evil wizard.

"Or Albus, if you would prefer that comparison." Sirius added smoothly.

Daniel leaned forward. "Everybody here knows that Voldemort is around in some form thanks to you, Sirius, and the return of the Potter alliance." He nodded in Augusta's direction, acknowledging her part in constructing the alliance. "We all also know there is a plan that you and the Ministry, the DOM and the DMLE are pursuing to deal with him once and for all, although we don't know the detail of it. Helping you by creating a strong Wizengamot politically is one of the reasons I know I agreed to the alliance."

"Me too." Albert Goldstein added.

Everyone else around the table nodded.

"And," Daniel said, "I think there are many of us who regret that last time we allowed Voldemort to gain the power he did and to have become so complacent in the years since that we accepted his former cohorts and supporters gaining as much political ground as they did."

"I think these things are partly why we all joined the alliance." Griselda Marchbanks muttered. "We feel we are at least doing something to defeat the bastard now!"

"Importantly," Daniel stressed, his brown eyes gleaming with a surprising amount of passion, "we all feel that this time, no matter that it is Harry's banner we are gathering around, that we are not leaving a child to deal with Voldemort this time."

"What I think Dan is trying to say," Albert interjected dryly, "is that we understand why you haven't said anything about Harry's power before now; why you're keeping it quiet as much as possible. If You-Know-Who's continued existence was publically known and Harry's power was also known, it would be far too easy for everyone to simply turn to your boy as the answer to You-Know-Who."

Sirius nodded gravely, and while Remus couldn't see relief anywhere on Sirius's face he knew his friend well enough to know Sirius felt relief at Albert's admission. "That has been a concern." He sighed. "Frankly, it is still a concern because evidently Harry's affinity with the family magic is gaining notice." He waved at Richard Bones. "Not just from you guys but Benjamin Nott was kind enough to point out why Selwyn and Wilkes had agreed to a détente with the House of Black."

"It's rather hard for it not to gain notice when the totems keep showing up for Wizengamot sessions." Richard said dryly.

"Hear, hear." Griselda said.

"So, Arcturus found this origin story." Tiberius Ogden looked over at Sirius curiously. "He knew about the lad's power?"

"There was an incident ruled by the DOM as need-to-know when Harry was…well, very young, shall we say?" Sirius gestured toward the older man. "Harry managed to call the Black family magic and the Potter family magic. Arcturus and Charlus both witnessed it."

"I forget Harry has Black blood." Daniel commented. "His Grandmother was a Black, wasn't she?"

Sirius nodded. 

"One thing I don't understand," Carl Branstone cleared his throat, "why if he is so powerful has the scuttlebutt from Hogwarts been that he's, forgive me for stating it so bluntly, Sirius, but average?"

"Honestly, Carl has a point. We all expected Harry to be powerful," said Julian Sapworthy, "but after the general rumour mill said that he was average academically, I think most of us thought that the incident with Voldemort when he was a baby was some kind of accidental magic rather than real power."

Sirius frowned. "There are a number of reasons but the main one is that after Halloween in 'eighty-one, Albus placed a binding on Harry's power because he was concerned about the nature of Harry's scar, the one he received when Voldemort cast the Killing curse at him." He waved his hand at the collective gasp of horror; placing a binding in such a way was very frowned upon. "Albus had his reasons and he's apologised to Harry."

"You resolved the concern and had the binding removed?" Daniel inquired.

"Yes to both." Sirius agreed. "As most of you already know, Harry and I spent some time at the Valley clinic in the States at the beginning of the Summer…"

"And rather than that time being primarily dealing with your healing as we've assumed, Harry received healing alongside you." Griselda concluded briskly. 

"The majority of the time we spent there involved retraining Harry's control of his magic." Sirius conceded.

"What was Albus thinking?" Elphias Doge commented banging his fist on the table. "To restrict the lad's power that way! It's unthinkable!"

"It didn't surprise me." Augusta said tartly. "Albus always thinks he knows best."

"It also explains why my daughter wrote to me that Harry's academic performance has changed." Daniel commented, reaching for his napkin. "His power increase would be part of that, I assume?"

"On the practical side." Sirius agreed.

"And gaining a guardian who cares for him has done the rest." Augusta patted Sirius's arm.

Sirius smiled at her. "He also understands more about his responsibilities and heritage now." 

It was a deflection, Remus knew, from the implication that Harry's previous guardians hadn't cared for him. Some of the gathering didn't miss it though; Daniel's eyes sharpened perceptively.

"While I don't wish to come across as suggesting we do let Harry deal with You-Know-Who," Joseph Smith spoke up quietly, "my question is whether we actually believe the origin story that Arcturus uncovered and if so, does Harry have the ability to defeat You-Know-Who using the family magic?"

"Good questions." Albert stated, reaching for his tea.

Remus cleared his throat before Sirius could reply. "Let me take the first question as I've been involved with the research." 

Everyone turned to look at him.

"When we realised that Harry had an unusual relationship with his House totems, Bertie, Minerva McGonagall and I all looked into this with Sirius's and Harry's permission." Remus explained. "There are a multitude of origin stories with only two things in common; firstly, that Merlin was involved in some way with the creation of family magic, and secondly, that it was created to defend our world."

"So Arcturus's origin story?" prompted Richard enthusiastically.

"Is one of many and what has become increasingly obvious to the three of us researching is that the truth has long been forgotten." Remus concluded. "However, Arcturus's origin story does explain in a way the others do not why your House totems might have responded to Harry following the oath of alliance that was made. But it's equally likely that the oath itself might have something to do with that." 

"Ah." Richard frowned. "I hadn't considered that."

"It's a very good point," Daniel motioned with his teacup, "I felt something tug on my family magic during the first Potter alliance oath-taking but it wasn't until the September session when I took part in the oath that my family magic…shifted."

"Weasley is in an alliance with the House of Potter too, isn't he?" Albert questioned. "If it was just a question of oaths surely his totem should have responded?"

"But he's not in the formal Potter alliance." Joseph pointed out. "Not like us." His hand swept around the table, taking in the gathered representatives of the Ancient and Noble Houses within the alliance.

"You're suggesting that there needs to be an agreement between the original thirty families for the magic to be called by a powerful wizard within the collective?" Richard argued. "Because that's not going to happen."

"Not in any lifetime!" Carl agreed wholeheartedly. "Five of those families are lost now!"

"And the likes of Wenlock will never agree to anything!" pointed out Griselda.

Remus exchanged a bemused look with Sirius as the rest of the table started debating the matter heatedly. Bemusement shifted to amusement when Griselda made her point by whacking the back of Albert's hand with a spoon.

Sirius shifted in his seat and coughed. It was enough to silence everyone immediately.

"Well, I think the debate has probably provided evidence for Remus's initial answer to the first question of whether the origin story is true which to be succinct is 'we don't know.'" Sirius said dryly.

There were a few chuckles as everyone conceded the point.

"Has Harry used any of our family magic outside of the Wizengamot sessions, Sirius?" asked Daniel.

"He used the Longbottom magic to save Neville from a curse at the World Cup." Sirius revealed. He held up his hand at the eager faces. "But again; Neville swore his magic was Harry's in his fealty oath. We don't know whether the fact that he called it is related to the origin story or not."

"What does the lad say?" asked Tiberius with characteristic bluntness.

Remus could see from the tension in Sirius's face that he was debating whether to answer honestly or not.

Sirius sighed heavily and reached for his abandoned coffee. "Harry said that when he went to protect Neville using our family magic, the Longbottom bear was just there waiting for him; that he just knew he could call it."

"And what does he say about calling the rest of the magic?" pressed Tiberius.

Sirius shifted in his seat. "He has the sense that he could call it all if the situation was bad enough but it would have to be very, very bad." His lips thinned. "He also thinks that in such a circumstance he would pay for calling it with his own life and magic. He wouldn't survive it."

The revelation sobered the group.

"And that answers the second question." Albert muttered quietly.

"But he could use it to defeat You-Know-Who…" Carl sighed at Sirius's hard look. "I'm sorry, Sirius, I'm not suggesting that we ask that of him."

"Good because that will only be happening over my dead body." Sirius snapped.

"I can't blame you, Sirius, and well, after that ill-considered remark it's even more understandable to me why you wanted to keep this quiet." Griselda said, glaring at Carl herself. 

Carl held up his hands. "For the record, I don't believe asking a fourteen year old boy to sacrifice himself is the answer to getting rid of Voldemort. I happen to very much agree with Daniel's comments from earlier that our apathy last time was disgraceful and one of the reasons why I joined this alliance was to do my part this time in defeating You-Know-Who." 

"For what it's worth, I don't think further research will help in this matter of the family magic." Tiberius's fist banged sharply on the top of the table, punctuating his point. "I'm inclined to go with the lad's view of what he can and cannot call; the price he feels he would pay for using it." 

Sirius glanced at Remus.

Remus sighed. "Unfortunately we agree with you."

Daniel motioned across the table. "I think we all know there is a lot you can't share with us about the official plan beyond the political side, but I'm assuming other avenues of defeating Voldemort are being pursued?"

"Yes." Sirius confirmed briskly.

"So, we know what's going on with the family magic and know it's probably not the answer." Albert stated clearly. "We're also assured you are working on other measures. Is there anything you need from us beyond political support? Because you know suddenly I don't think I'm doing enough."

"I echo Albert here." Richard said. "Knowing that our families might have been chosen by Merlin to help defend the wizarding world…I'm not sure just sitting back and providing political support is enough anymore."

"Me either." Daniel said with a sigh.

"I'm old," Elphias said bluntly, "but I also feel the same."

A chorus of agreement rang out.

"You know I gave Jeremy hell over the fealty but perhaps we should take an oath ourselves." Carl said.

"I don't think that's necessary." Sirius held up his hands. "Honestly, while we are honoured by the fealty of your Heirs, we would never have asked for it. So it's great that you feel that way but truly political support is what we most need from you."

"I'm afraid from an age perspective, it's probably all you'll get from me!" Griselda remarked. "I won't last long in a duel these days."

"There's also the question of too many people knowing too much." Sirius sighed. "As much as I hate keeping secrets from allies and friends…"

"There's a necessity or rather a balance to be kept between us knowing too much or too little especially when you have an evil wizard tormenting your son." Daniel finished with a sharp nod. "We understand." 

Remus was reminded he'd been present for Travers not being Travers in the courtroom.

Daniel motioned around the table. "Perhaps there's a compromise? You delegate more of the political side to us? Wenlock is building his opposition; we can help there."

"Damn right, we can!" Griselda remarked, her eyes shining with glee.

"And we can help formulate and get the legislation organised." Leonard Abbot said loudly above the clamour of agreement. "You remain the leader and in charge but let the rest of us do the legwork."

"I agree," Augusta said turning to Sirius, "and you should let us help you with research. You don't necessarily need to disclose why you need something researched; we can simply research any given topic without you having to explain it."

"I would be up for that." Richard said.

"Any help you need to protect Harry…" Carl offered. "You only have to ask."

Everyone turned to look at the head of the table.

"What say you, Sirius?" Augusta asked with a smirk. "Will you accept our help?"

Sirius's expression melted into one of confidence complete with a Marauderish smirk (and Remus knew his friend was already plotting how to work all the Ancient and Noble Houses present offering additional and unconditional help to his advantage just as Arcturus had taught him). "How can I possibly say no?"

And so Sirius hadn't said no which was how Remus found himself a month later in Paris with Richard and Augusta tracking down the Lumiere source Ollivander had mentioned in Arcturus's memory. It had worked out though since the rare antiquities dealer Remus had found had insisted on dealing with the Head of a House not with a lowly steward. Unsurprisingly Sirius had no intentions of leaving England with the Tri-Wizard Tournament only a couple of days away. Richard and Augusta had both been told by Remus and Sirius that the Lumiere document they were after had mention of the Deathly Hallows which were being considered as one potential way of defeating Voldemort but nothing about the location of the Hallows.

Remus checked the time. "We should make our way to the Plaza Magique."

Richard sighed but obediently drank down his coffee. Augusta left the remainder of her tea – a sign that she hadn't enjoyed the taste at all.

The entrance to the Plaza wasn't far from the café. A small bar provided a cover in much the same way The Leaky Cauldron did for Diagon Alley. The dealer, Armaund Fevrier, was located just off the Plaza down a cobbled side-street they easily found. His undistinguished door had a simple plaque with his name on it and Remus rang the doorbell.

A busty rotund woman with red cheeks, flyaway blonde hair and a large white apron answered. "Yes?" She asked rudely in French.

"Good afternoon, Madame," Remus answered flawlessly in the same language, "Madame Longbottom and Lord Bones are here to see Monsieur Fevrier as scheduled." He handed her the parchment that Fevrier had sent confirming their appointment.

The housekeeper sniffed. "This way." She showed them to a front parlour but didn't offer them refreshments or to take their coats.

Augusta raised her eyebrows expressively at the lack of manners as she took off her gloves and unwound her scarf.

"She reminds me of the nanny Amelia pushed into the pond when we were children." Richard confided with a wink.

Remus stifled a laugh.

"What's the betting Monsieur Fevrier will keep us waiting here a while?" asked Richard, shucking off his own coat and placing it on the arm of the chair he had chosen to sit on.

"My mother didn't raise a fool, Richard." Augusta parried, arranging her long skirt as she sat down.

"Mine didn't raise one either." Remus said dryly when Richard turned to him with a grin.

Richard pouted. "You're both no fun!" He motioned at Remus. "You were quite the prankster in your youth; you must have some stories."

Remus grinned back at him and began a tale of how the Marauders had turned the DADA classroom into a tropical jungle during their fourth year. He had segued into a slightly different story of pranking the Professors for the leaving feast in their fifth year by the time Fevrier showed up.

The tall thin man looked as though a stiff breeze would blow him over. His bald head was as chalk white as the rest of his complexion. His hooded black eyes gave little away.

"My apologies for keeping you waiting." Fevrier began as he took Augusta's hand and kissed her knuckles.

"I hope the wait was worth it," Augusta said in flawless French, "I am Madame Longbottom, Regent of the House of Longbottom." She waved a hand at Richard. "This is Lord Bones, Head of the House of Bones." Fevrier shook hands with him. "We are here in Lord Black's stead. You have already corresponded with Remus Lupin, his steward."

"The werewolf, yes," Fevrier dismissed Remus as unimportant without so much a look in his direction.

Augusta bristled and Remus shook his head minutely. There was no point getting upset about it. France might have had better working regulations for werewolves but discrimination was still rife.

"Perhaps we can speak English as Lord Bones does not speak a great deal of French." Augusta said as Fevrier sat in an uncomfortable chair opposite her.

Remus and Richard retook their seats.

"Of course," Fevrier said in heavily accented English, "my apologies, Lord Bones."

"Quite alright." Richard said politely. "Shall we get down to business?"

"You indicated that you had knowledge of the document Lord Black seeks to purchase." Augusta added.

Fevrier smiled superiorly at them, clasping his hands together lightly. "The Lumiere parchment is a rare document. It has been many years since it was last sought."

"Lord Black has an interest in rare things." Augusta said.

Fevrier tilted his head. "Do not think me an idiot, Madame, I am well aware of why Lord Black would be interested in this parchment." He smiled again. "His ward is the last of the Peverells, non?"

Augusta smiled sharply in return. "Then you need no explanation as to why Lord Black is keen to secure this document for Lord Potter's family vault."

"And perhaps to learn of the secrets of the Hallows, n'est pas?" Fevrier rejoined, not losing his smile in the face of Augusta's lack of reaction.

It was Richard who chuckled wryly. "I'm fairly sure that Sirius knows that learning the secrets of the Hallows is pointless unless he finds out where they are." He grinned at Fevrier. "I don't suppose you have any leads on where the Hallows might be? They are rare antiquities after all."

Fevrier hung onto his smile but only just. "I suspect that Lord Black may know more than you think."

"I'm certain he does," Richard agreed happily, "but why he wants the document isn't pertinent to our discussion; you either have information for us or you don't. If you have it, we'll pay a fair price as already agreed; if you don't, then you have wasted our time and yours."

It was the first time Remus had heard an underlying hint of steel in Richard's voice. Augusta sent Richard a look of approval.

"Very well," Fevrier conceded, "there are three known copies of the Lumiere document. The original resides in the French Ministry of Magic within the archives as it was seized during the Revolution from the King." He gave a small shrug. "It will not be easy to locate given the state of the archives."

"The other copies?" prompted Augusta impatiently.

"The second copy – a duplicate of the first – is held by Lumiere's remaining descendant, Vivien Verte." Fevrier waved a hand in an expressive gesture. "Vivien is part Veela. She lives in a protected enclave in Alsace. She has allowed no-one to see the document in over fifty years."

Protected enclaves meant that a Veela would be required to make contact. Remus struggled to think of a Veela that they knew well enough to entrust with such a task and came up empty.

"The last copy is a translation from the original Latin into Italian and is owned by the Italian wand maker Cavietti. He once tried to sell it to me some years ago but we disagreed on the price." Fevrier's long fingers tapped the arm of his chair.

Richard and Remus exchanged a look.

"Can you provide proof of Cavietti's document?" Richard asked.

Fevrier huffed. "Do any of you speak Italian?"

Remus did but he wasn't about to tell Fevrier that. He shook his head along with Richard and Augusta.

"I have a memory of his showing me the document in Rome when we met last." Fevrier said. "I am uncertain whether it would be useful to show it to you as you do not speak the language."

"Is there a moment where the document is shown?" asked Remus. "Italian is close to Latin; we should be able to make out enough of the written version to make a determination."

For a long moment Fevrier looked as though he was going to ignore the question as Remus had asked it but when Richard stared at the dealer pointedly, Fevrier nodded.

Richard waved his hand. "Bring on the memory then."

"I agree." Augusta concurred.

The dealer regarded them thoughtfully and unfolded himself from the chair. A pensieve was produced in short order and they all entered along with the dealer.

The memory began with Fevrier at the door of Cavietti's shop being greeted by the wand maker himself. Cavietti was a short stout man with black greased back hair and a small handlebar moustache. He wore simple plain robes. As he led Fevrier through the shop, Remus noted it was surprisingly minimalistic with only a small counter, a waiting area and a room where matches between customers and wands were evidently made. The back room was equally tidy; a large workbench took up the centre with cabinets filled with materials covering all the walls. A door to the side led to a storage room which was where Remus assumed Cavietti kept his wands.

The memory showed a framed parchment covered in a cloth lying on the workbench. Cavietti stopped in front of it.

"Here it is." Cavietti said in Italian.

Memory Fevrier nodded. "Let me see it then."

The cloth was removed.

Remus stared at the parchment eagerly. The seal at the bottom looked authentic…

"This is very clever, no?" Fevrier said. "Just enough of the original translated to be believable but not enough to give away the secrets contained within that document. It is said that Albert Lumiere was wise to create this deception to divert attention from his Ancestor's original parchment."

"How much?" Cavietti said.

The memory ended and Remus came back to himself with a start. He kept his expression blank but caught Richard's eye and gave a minute shake of his head.

"I propose that you place me on retainer and allow me to make the initial approach to Cavietti." Fevrier announced. "I am certain I can negotiate a good deal for Lord Black."

Richard smiled. "I'm afraid any kind of retainer agreement will have to be discussed with Lord Black."

"Indeed," Augusta said.

"The fee as agreed." Remus withdrew the bank draft from his pocket.

"Very well." Fevrier said, plucking the envelope from his hands. "I would not wait too long before securing my services."

"We'll take that under advisement." Augusta said dryly.

They were ushered out quickly and spent a moment in front of the house slipping on coats, gloves and scarves.

Augusta sniffed heavily at the rudeness of not being allowed to dress properly for the outdoors before being shown the door. She lead them back to the bar, ordered them all Firewhiskeys and directed them to a booth at the back.

Remus cast the privacy charm before he raised his glass in a silent toast and knocked it back. "Well, that was almost a waste of time."

"Almost?" questioned Augusta, knocking back her own drink, "I would say it was a waste of time."

"No, some of it was useful. He did earn the fee for meeting us." Remus disagreed.

"I'm with Augusta." Richard said, nursing his Firewhiskey. "What was useful?"

"He corroborated the intelligence we had on the original," Remus said, "Bertie tracked the likely location of it down to the French Ministry and has already asked his counterpart if he could see it. He's waiting on the reply."

"Which could take forever." Augusta said.

"Exactly," Remus said, "but that Fevrier confirmed it was with the French Ministry…"

"Confirms that Bertie's tracking is probably on target." Richard said with a smile. "And I assume the other useful information is Vivien Verte?"

"Yes," Remus said, "Minerva suggested a while ago that we track down Lumiere's family; she managed to find a genealogy book that listed Madame Verte as the last living descendant." He sighed. "But we were unable to locate her…"

"Until now." Richard completed.

"I don't suppose either of you know a trustworthy Veela who we could ask to approach her?" Remus asked hopefully.

"I'm afraid I don't know any Veela." Augusta said. "I recall Dorea had a pen pal for a number of years – a Marguerite Limone. I think they were vaguely related through Dorea's mother; cousins several times removed. Minerva may know her better."

"I'll ask her." Remus said.

"What about that whole thing with Cavietti?" Richard asked, curiosity all over his face. "You were quick to say no."

"Fevrier confirmed in his discussion with Cavietti in the memory that the translation is incomplete." Remus said simply.

"You speak Italian." Richard stated with glee.

"Enough." Remus said. "Really once you've learned Latin, stumbling through any of the romantic languages is quite easy."

"For you maybe." Richard laughed.

"So Cavietti's parchment is of no use?" Augusta said with a sharp nod. "I thought so."

"I think it may have been the version that was told to Arcturus." Remus said. "I'll have to look at my memory of seeing the memory; I might be able to translate more of it. Certainly what I did translate in my brief glance indicates it could be Arcturus's original source."

"Well, not a waste of time then." Richard said, raising his glass. "What are you going to do with Fevrier?"

"He's a character, isn't he?" Remus murmured.

"A rude and untrustworthy one." Augusta said sharply. "You're not seriously thinking of doing any further business with him?"

"Putting him on a retainer and letting him get the Cavietti version for us might ensure his continued silence to the likes of Voldemort's supporters over here." Remus said. "Moreover, Sirius will probably want the Cavietti version if only to take it off the market for anyone else."

"Good point." Richard drained his drink. "Shall we head back to the apartment?"

"Sounds like a plan." Remus said. The three of them were staying in the Black apartment near Notre Dame.

They gathered their things as Remus dispelled the privacy bubble.

They'd taken a step away from the booth when Remus caught a sniff of perfume and froze. He turned immediately in the direction of the scent.

Collette Panierre smiled back at him. Her strawberry blonde hair was tied back into a French plait. Her delicate features, liberally sprinkled with freckles bore the faint scars of her lycanthropy. Her blue-green eyes met his with amusement.

"Collette!"

"Bonjour Remus, my friend!" Collette sprang forward and embraced him, kissing both his cheeks with Gallic flair before moving back to regard him properly.

Collette had been the one bright spot in his spying days; if anyone had ever come close to convincing Remus that joining a formal pack had benefits, it was Collette.

Collette had been fifteen when she had been bitten by a werewolf after getting lost in the forest on her way home after dark on the night of a full moon. Her mother had home schooled her, determined that her daughter would have every advantage regardless of her lycanthropy, and the werewolf responsible for the bite had apologised fulsomely and taught Collette everything he knew about coping with the condition, including introducing her to his usual pack. She and Remus had been occasional lovers when they were younger but with the understanding that it was never leading anywhere.

Remus drank in the sight of her.

Augusta coughed delicately.

"Forgive me," Remus said, hastily turning to introduce Collette to Augusta and Richard.

Collette wrapped her arm around Remus's. "You will forgive me if I steal Remus from you for a few hours. We have so much to talk about! My brothers are keen to talk with you again."

And that was enough to start a flurry of nerves within Remus's gut because the only brothers Collette had were part of the pack she ran with.

Richard evidently guessed enough from Remus's sharp look to be concerned. "Remus?"

Remus took a breath. If the pack wanted to talk with him, he should probably at least listen to what they wanted to say. "I'll meet you back at the apartment for dinner."

"If you're sure." Augusta pressed.

Remus nodded.

Augusta shot Collette a hard look. "We will be waiting for him and I expect him to be returned in the same pristine condition as he is now or there will be trouble."

Collette inclined her head. Richard and Augusta said their goodbyes and departed.

Remus felt Collette squeeze his arm.

"You have good friends." Collette said with a sigh. "You always did."

"I hope I can still count you among them." Remus said bluntly.

She smiled and nodded. "You are safe, Remus; I promise."

It was as much reassurance as he was likely to get, he realised. He fell into step beside her as she headed back to the Plaza and an apparition point.

The side-along finished in front of a rustic looking bar on the other side of Paris.

The rundown outside screamed 'locals only' but Remus set aside his unease and followed Collette inside. The dark interior was cosy rather than threatening. One side of the room had a long scarred wooden bar in front of a veritable treasure trove of alcoholic beverages and an old-fashioned coffee machine. Two old wizards, their hands gnarled with age, sat playing dominos with glasses of Firewhiskey in front of them. The other side of the room was filled with small wooden tables whose surfaces looked sticky, old and non-matching chairs piled around them in odd numbers. They were all empty.

Collette grinned at him and pulled him through to the back room. The small space was filled with a card table and more mis-matched chairs. It was already filled with five men and another woman.

Remus identified one of the men immediately. "Tomas!?"

The Bulgarian Auror stood and shook his hand. "Let me introduce you; this is Gregor, my pack Alpha."

The pack Alpha of the Slavic werewolves, Remus determined, shaking hands and trying to appear unaffected as his heart raced.

Gregor took over the introductions as Tomas stepped back. "Giovanni Lippott." He waved at the brown haired man next to him.

Giovanni had been the pack leader of the Italian pack for more years than Remus had been born. Remus was very respectful as he shook hands with him.

"Otto Klein." Gregor continued around the table.

The German werewolf Alpha, Remus noted as the blond Aryan bowed his head in acknowledgement rather than offering his hand.

"And you already know Robert Martin," Gregor waved at the man who had pulled Collette into a hug, "and Sian Kelly."

Robert must have taken over as the leader of the pack in France, Remus mused, taking in the comfortable familiarity of affection between him and Collette. He and Robert hadn't interacted much during Remus's time with the pack but he had a vague recollection of a fair and intelligent wizard who had been a fisherman before he'd been turned.

Sian, all dark hair and flashing blue eyes, smiled at him sharply. She was part of Fenrir's pack – the pack that ostensibly was based in England – but she disliked Fenrir. They'd been friends of a sort when Remus had tentatively started his spying but they had clashed over Remus's refusal to depose Fenrir and take the pack for himself.

"Please take a seat." Gregor said.

Remus sat down and shucked off his coat. He was unnerved, he could admit that to himself. He had effectively been shanghaied into a meeting with the European werewolf leadership. It was the type of meeting that Albus had dreamed of him attending back in the first war and one that Remus had always taken pains to tell him would never happen – Remus just wasn't important enough to attract the attention of the werewolf leaders and, frankly, given his spying, he had thought at the time it was for the better that they disregarded him.

"You will forgive us for the impromptu nature of this meeting but when we received news that you would be in France this day we thought it prudent to act and request your forgiveness at the lack of notice." Gregor explained.

"I admit that I'm intrigued at the intrigue." Remus said politely.

Collette grinned at him and slipped out of Robert's hold. "Let me get you all a drink. Hot chocolate for you, Remus?"

"Thank you." Remus said.

They waited until she left before speaking again.

Gregor began. "There are two matters on which we should speak…"

"Three," corrected Sian interrupting.

Gregor bared his teeth at her. "Remember you are present at our indulgence, Sian."

Sian flushed.

"We hear the news that Britain has established a new Committee to look into the affairs of magical races and creatures; to review existing legislation with the intent to overhaul the entire system." Gregor motioned at Remus.

Remus nodded. "It was proposed at the October Wizengamot and passed with a majority."

"Ah, yes. The infamous Potter alliance." Gregor said with a smile.

"Harry's agenda has gained a great deal of support across the political spectrum." Remus defended briskly.

"An agenda wholly supported and promoted by his guardian Lord Black." Otto gestured at Remus. "Sirius Black has something of a reputation."

Gregor grunted. "There are those of us who remember him from his time as a Hit Wizard. He was ruthless."

"We were at war." Remus said simply.

"The political landscape in Britain has changed with a speed that has surprised those of us on the Continent." Otto commented. "Possibly because your Mister Crouch has been distracted with other matters. Perhaps because we were not expecting…" he made a frantic gesture at Robert as he struggled for words.

Robert opened his mouth but someone else spoke first.

"Nobody was expecting Sirius to tear down the British wizarding world and remake it for the Boy Who Lived." Sian said brusquely.

Remus couldn't prevent the smirk that emerged at that. Sian and Sirius had met only once but the meeting had been fraught since Sirius had always been overprotective about Remus and Sian had been annoyed that Remus had good friends outside of the pack.

"You really should have done." Remus said to her. "Nothing is more important to Sirius than Harry."

"How far is he going to go?" asked Sian impatiently.

"In other words," Giovanni slipped in smoothly, "what is the agenda where werewolves are concerned?"

"Equality and help." Remus answered promptly. "Harry believes that werewolves are primarily wizards and witches who shouldn't lose their rights just because they've been infected with lycanthropy."

Sian growled. "So you have already set him against the packs?"

And this was always what Sian and he had disagreed on fundamentally.

"Sian, you believe we are werewolves first," Remus stated calmly, "that being bitten, whether out of choice as you were bitten, or by accident as Collette was, or in a purposeful act of violence as I was bitten, makes us something other than human, something supernatural and special. You believe that we should all embrace the wolf and the pack; that they provide us with a society and belonging that we won't find anywhere else." He paused. "I can appreciate why you and everyone within the packs feels that way, why the packs evolved in the first place. The prejudice against us is harsh even in countries like Bulgaria where the laws are certainly fairer on paper than many other countries."

"But?" prompted Giovanni with interest.

"But," Remus replied, "excepting the true shifter communities in Africa and the Americas, werewolves are made not born. We all start out as human. Some of us want to remain human; have the same opportunities as other wizards and witches; have the same lives as much as we can as those we had before we were bitten." He shrugged. "The only way for that to happen is if the prejudice within our society is tackled and one day eradicated. Harry wants that." He had to work to keep the tears out of his eyes and the emotion out of his voice. "Harry wants that for me."

"And what does he think of the packs?" Gregor asked, shooting Sian a look that told her to remain quiet.

"He knows they exist and we've talked how most of them provide werewolves with a community and support system." Remus explained. "We've also talked about why some of the packs sided with Voldemort in the last war and why most stayed neutral." He rubbed his chin. "If Harry has any view, it's that so long as nobody sides with Voldemort in the way Fenrir did in the past, he's fine with the packs."

"And your Lord Black?" Otto pressed. "Will he be fine with us on that basis also?"

"Yes." Remus said with conviction. "As long as you don't intend to hurt Harry in any way, Sirius is a live and let live kind of guy. If you intend to set yourself against Harry in any way," he shot Sian a look, "then Sirius will tear down the entire world to eliminate you and every single member of your pack." He paused for a beat. "And I would be right beside him."

Gregor laughed delighted apparently with the bluntness. "And this…this is why we wished to speak with you."

The moment was broken by Collette arriving back with the drinks. Espresso coffee for Otto, Giovanni and Robert, a bottled beer for Sian, a glass with clear liquid that Remus decided was probably vodka for Gregor and hot chocolate for himself.

Sian huffed out an exasperated breath as she gestured with her beer at him. "Sirius hated the packs."

"Sirius hated my spying on the packs and putting myself at risk." Remus corrected. "He also hated that some werewolves did side with Voldemort and went around terrorising people."

"You could have stopped that if you'd challenged Fenrir for the pack." Sian declared.

"We are not getting into that argument again." Remus said firmly. "I am not an Alpha."

The others around the table exchanged amused looks.

"My dear Remus," Gregor said with laughter colouring his words, "you would not be sat at this table if you were not an Alpha."

"Oh." Remus had no idea what to say to that.

"Tomas informed me that you do not think as a wolf," Gregor continued, "and thus you do not see that you are the most powerful wolf in your country. You occupy a place of authority within society; you can influence those who are reshaping the laws and public opinion. Within the pack you have created for yourself, you are the only true wolf and therefore the Alpha."

"If you declared your pack open to others, others would flock to join you." Otto picked up where Gregor stopped. "This actually is the second thing we wish to speak to you about."

Remus felt breathless and wondered if it was shock or panic. He took a long sip of comforting hot chocolate.

"And the third reason is the reason why Sian is here; because the majority of Fenrir's pack no longer wishes to follow him." Robert said.

Sian glared at him but nodded as she turned to Remus. "Fenrir has gone back to his Master like a dog with a wagging tail."

Remus stiffened. "He's rejoined Voldemort?"

"Over a month ago." Sian waved her bottle at him. "We didn't know at first; he just disappeared for days without word of where he had gone or what he was doing. Then he came back and broke the news last week at a pack meeting, before disappearing again."

"Damn it." Remus swore furiously. Voldemort was gathering quite the inner circle; the missing Travers, the unknown Polyjuice guy who everyone agreed must have had some connection to the LeStranges, Peter, and now Fenrir. And they all posed a threat to Harry. He was going to kill Fenrir himself, Remus decided; he wouldn't let a rabid animal like Fenrir harm Harry.

"You know, Remus, that the majority of us didn't take part last time." Sian said urgently. "Fenrir was our Alpha but only those who were stupid followed him into the raids. Most of them are dead now or have gained some maturity to realise that Fenrir's leadership made things worse for us not better." She sat back, an air of defeat on her face. "We all recognise that this time we won't survive it if he embroils us in a war, either because he himself will beat us into submission or because Sirius will come after us." She looked up at him, blue eyes hard with determination. "Which is why we need a new leader."

It was a variation of the same argument they'd had in the last war. But with the acknowledgement that apparently he held some kind of Alpha status, Remus felt his wolf's sense of responsibility surge.

He took another sip of chocolate to steady himself. "Why don't we tackle this in order?" He waved around the table at Gregor and the other leaders. "I assume your packs wish to negotiate some kind of neutrality between them and Sirius?"

"We wish to negotiate some kind of neutrality between us and you as the Alpha of your pack." Gregor corrected gently.

Remus harrumphed. "Fine, then. You all stay away from Voldemort, keep your packs neutral and do not help him in any way. My pack won't come after you and yours."

"Excellent!" Giovanni declared as Otto and Robert beamed.

Gregor saluted Remus with his glass and knocked back the spirit.

"And what about us?" Sian snarled.

"I will…discuss with Sirius and Harry opening up our pack to give sanctuary to other werewolves." Remus said.

"You don't need to discuss it!" Sian argued. "You are the Alpha!"

"And I will do nothing to hurt my pack!" snapped Remus right back at her. "We need to consider the politics and how we can offer sanctuary without looking like we're creating a werewolf army to threaten those that oppose us into doing what we want! I won't have Sirius or Harry put in that position!"

"Sian, if you accept he is Alpha then you accept his position on this." Robert said calmly.

Sian grimaced but she subsided.

Robert gestured at Remus. "The Potters own a chateau in the South of France? Why not offer a werewolf sanctuary there for any in England who wish to seek your protection? I will agree to your pack occupying my territory on those terms under the neutrality."

"There are two farms in the Balkans I believe – one that Black owns and another Potter has?" Gregor noted. "I will also concede to your pack occupying those places within my territory."

Otto and Giovanni added their agreement.

Remus sighed and massaged his temple. "Thank you. I will speak with Sirius and Harry to see which of the properties we will use and send you word."

"You do realise that if you should offer sanctuary to his pack, Fenrir will take it as a challenge regardless of whether you wish to challenge him for the leadership directly." Otto said.

"Since Fenrir has rejoined Voldemort, it's safe to say he'll be dead sooner or later." Remus responded without thinking, his mind too caught up in the list of political difficulties and complications of the sanctuaries to consider what he had just revealed.

Sian bristled again. "So you'll kill him for the boy but not for your pack!"

Remus's temper ignited. "The thing that you have never understood, Sian, is that Fenrir's pack, yourpack, is not mine!" He held up his hand sharply when she would have argued back. "NO! Enough of you berating me! I was five years old when Fenrir bit me! Five! My pack was always my mother who comforted me; my father who stood by me; and my friends! My friends who did everything they could to help me every full moon and accepted me without question! It was Sirius who tended my wounds for years, Sian, not you! It was James who made me an honorary uncle to his son, and Lily who placed Harry into my arms without hesitation and called him my cub! They are pack!"

He snarled, anger coating every word.

"You are not pack! You, who were stupid enough to ask to be bitten at eighteen because you fell in love with the idea of being a werewolf as though we're cuddly pets and not dangerous creatures! You who realised your folly and expected me to fix it! If you dislike Fenrir as a leader, you could challenge him if you have the courage you seem to have always found lacking in me." He stabbed a finger in her direction. "Know this: I will kill for my pack and I will kill any who dares to harm my cub but you are not pack! You want sanctuary with me and mine; fine, but you'll keep your opinions about my actions and my pack to yourself. Understood?"

Sian bowed her head in submission and scurried from the room.

Collette sent Remus a chiding look and went after her.

There was a twinge of guilt curdling in Remus's belly but the wolf in his head was satisfied.

"Well," Gregor said dryly, "perhaps now you will believe you are Alpha."

Remus stared at him for a moment before he burst out laughing.

"A round of drinks! We should celebrate!" Gregor said with a grin.

It was another hour before Remus was able to extract himself from the gathering. A somewhat abashed Sian had turned up with Collette midway through. She had joined in the discussion on how they were going to get word into Fenrir's pack of the sanctuary sites (Robert agreed to pass word to Sian) but otherwise remained quiet.

Collette offered to escort him out and Sian followed them as Remus was ushered back through the bar which had filled somewhat in the hours he had been ensconced in the back room.

They hovered outside in the cold, Remus hurriedly pulling on his gloves as Sian and Collette shivered beside him.

Sian hesitated but hugged him goodbye and he hugged her back, remembering the young girl she had been. "I'm sorry for pushing, Remus. We're just…we're just scared."

Remus tightened his hold for a moment. "I'll send word as soon as I can."

Sian nodded. She moved out of his arms and hurried back into the warmth of the bar.

Collette smiled softly at Remus and took Sian's place, wrapping her arms around him. "Next time you come to Paris, old friend, you will have dinner with Robert and I, and we will talk of nothing but our lives and loves since the last time we met."

"I'd like that." Remus said cautiously. He indicated the bar with a flick of his head in its direction. "You and Robert?"

"Married." Collette confirmed. "Three years. We are happy." She patted his chest as she stepped away. "You should try it, Remus." She tossed her own head back towards the building. "Sian would make a good mate."

"We'd kill each other," Remus joked, "and besides; I'm too busy right now for…"

"For love and romance?" Collette teased. "There is always time for love and romance, Remus."

"That's very French of you, Collette." He waved a hand at her as she laughed. "Maybe when I meet the right girl." He smiled wistfully. "Robert is a lucky man."

Collette's smile widened. "I make sure to remind him every day."

He laughed at that and pushed her gently toward the bar. She disappeared inside with a final wave.

Remus shook his head and apparated to the Plaza, hurrying toward his hotel as soon as he got his bearings. His mirror call with Sirius was going to take a while; they had a lot to discuss.