Chapter 8
As the sky began to darken on August 9th and the sun sank just below the hills, Arthur Weasley had still not arrived nor sent word and Harry Potter felt like he was going to throw up from anxiety.
“Harry,” Remus murmured from the sofa.
Harry, seated on the carpet, glanced away from staring out the window.
“I’ll be alright. I managed alone for many years,” Remus said gently. His face was ghostly pale, the faint lines and scars starkly prominent. Sirius, sitting on the sofa beside Remus, made a whining sound deep in his throat at that reminder and Remus reached for Sirius’ fidgeting hands, stilling them in Sirius’ lap.
Since Harry had told them he knew of their relationship, they still had not shown any physical affection in front of him besides what they had already done: touching knees or shoulders, hugging, holding hands. Harry was sheepishly grateful—they were his godfather and former professor after all, and he would have felt slightly awkward seeing either of them kiss anyone. Well, Harry thought, looking at the two men in front of him, now he’d want to have a mighty row if anyone but Remus kissed Sirius, or if anyone but Sirius kissed Remus. It was probably against the rules of the universe or something, Harry thought, now that he knew what Remus’ Patronus meant.
Suddenly, Harry caught on to the fact that it was Remus comforting them right now, and that would NOT do.
“I’ll be at Hogwarts next moon,” Harry said quickly, “And then you both can run free in the Forbidden Forest.”
Remus smiled faintly at him, trying to give Harry assurance and credit that his attempt was appreciated, but the next moment Remus’ muscles spasmed and he exhaled sharply, “It’s almost time,” Remus said quietly through gritted teeth.
Sirius opened his mouth to say to wait just a little longer before the cellar but Remus shook his head, his eyes were looking slightly desperate and he began moving his arm around Sirius’ shoulders.
Harry felt a little dizzy. Sirius felt like he was going to give Arthur Weasley the mightiest row Sirius had been a part of since before Azkaban.
Remus and Sirius stood; there was sweat now on Remus’ brow, and his legs in his worn trousers were shaking.
Just then the front door opened with a clang and Arthur Weasley stood panting in the doorway, “I’m so sorry—terribly late—did I make it…?” His slightly reddened face blanched at the sight of Remus and Sirius standing in the living room, Remus looking seconds away from transforming.
“EXCELLENT!” Sirius crowed, his face breaking into a huge smile, tightening his grip around Remus’ waist and beginning to tow him towards the front door—it was the closest way to get to the edge of the wards so Remus could transform out of the boundaries and the wolf would have all of the quiet wooded Wales countryside to run and run.
“Thank you, Arthur,” Remus, his voice no more than a breath, said to Mr. Weasley as he and Sirius brushed past him out of the door.
Harry and Arthur Weasley watched the two men disappear at the shielded-magic boundary in the deepening twilight and Harry took an exhale that became a strangled half-laugh of relief.
Arthur looked at Harry, “Cut it rather close, did I? I’ll have to properly apologize in the morning to them both. I’m sorry I almost broke my promise, Harry.”
Harry smiled at him and clambered shakily to his feet, “But you made it, that’s all that matters. Thanks! Tea?” Harry had no idea really how to make tea in the cottage, seeing as he never drank it and Remus or Sirius always used their wands to boil the kettle, but he led Arthur into the kitchen and pointed out where all the tea makings were.
Arthur happily busied himself and soon he and Harry were seated at the kitchen table, Arthur with a steaming cup and Harry with a bottle of butterbeer leftover from his birthday party.
“You seem to be taking to your new home well,” Arthur told Harry politely.
Harry grinned, “It’s brilliant.”
Arthur shifted a little uneasily in his seat, “Must be tough though…nights like these… I mean, you’re not a boy really any longer, but still,” these last words were spoken in a thoughtful undertone.
Harry felt suddenly uneasy, “What do you mean by that?”
Arthur’s eyes widened as he realized how Harry may have interpreted him, “Oh no, I have nothing against you living with Remus considering the…uh...lycanthropy, but I just mean to say, it’s not easy to see someone you care about go through that.”
Harry furrowed his brow, “It’s not easy for him to go through that.”
“Quite right, quite right,” Arthur agreed quickly.
But Harry didn’t really feel too affronted; he knew what Arthur meant, “But yeah,” he admitted, “I mean that’s why Sirius and my dad and…you know…that’s why they became Animagi.”
Arthur’s eyes lit up in wonder, “I did manage to get a rather garbled version from Ron. How they managed it as fifth-years I’ll never know! Too clever, really. But it rather makes a difference, does it? I mean, Sirius certainly seemed ecstatic he could join him.”
Harry nodded, “Oh yeah. The wolf and the dog and the stag and the…rat…they were like a pack. But Sirius told me the dog and the wolf always got on the best.”
Arthur smiled, “I would imagine so. ‘Sides, they get on so well as men.”
Harry’s cheeks colored slightly, “Yeah they do,” he said, trying to make it sound casual, taking a drink of his butterbeer. Harry had made a promise to Remus and Sirius that no one would know about their relationship from Harry; it must be on their terms.
Thankfully, Arthur didn’t seem to notice, “Right then, I’ve got some news for you, although Ron’s letter should arrive in the morning. It’s what kept me so late tonight.”
Harry’s eyes widened, hardly daring to hope.
“I’ve got tickets to the Quidditch World Cup!” Arthur said with a huge grin, his eyes becoming a little wistful and dreamy.
“No way!!!” Harry exclaimed, “For all of you?”
“Well, Bill and Charlie are back to work, and Percy’s about to start his position at the Ministry—he’s interning with Barty Crouch, head of the Department of International Magical Co-Operation. He’ll be at the Cup, in fact. Molly said she’ll use the empty nest to get some rather desperately needed organizing done, so it’ll be Fred, George, Ron, Ginny, Hermione, and I going. I’ll speak with your godfather in the morning to see if he can arrange tickets for you. He’ll be coming with you, I expect, wouldn’t miss a chance to see the Cup, right?”
“Too right,” Harry said, copying one of Sirius’ favorite phrases, “And Remus’ll come too.”
Arthur nodded, “Well, with the two of them accompanying you I am fairly certain it’ll be safe. And there’s loads of security at the Cup, and you can all stay with us in my colleague Perkin’s tent. He’s letting me borrow it for the occasion.”
Harry raised his eyebrow in the way Remus did when he was confused, “All of us in one tent?”
Arthur grinned, “A Wizard tent, Harry, enchanted on the inside. There’s plenty of room, I assure you.”
Harry grinned, already eager to see what that would be like, but then got distracted by all of his other questions about the Quidditch World Cup: the teams playing (Ireland v. Bulgaria), where it would take place (on an enchanted-shielded hill, much like the magic around Hope’s Cottage, in England), how many people would be there (the stadium could hold 100,000 spectators).
As the clock was chiming 22:00, Arthur asked Harry if he’d like to go up to bed and he’d keep watch in the living room in case anything was amiss, as Sirius had bid him to do. But Harry shook his head, “I’ll sleep on the sofa. Wake me when they get back?” He asked Mr. Weasley.
Arthur was standing by the bookshelf, fascinated by all the Muggle books on Remus’ shelf, and turned to look quizzically at Harry, “You sure, Harry?”
“Yes,” Harry insisted, taking the blankets left discarded on the sofa by Remus and folding them up like Sirius had done the month before, “I’ll be right back,” he told Arthur before going up to his bedroom to grab the blanket off his bed and his Quidditch playbook.
When he came back down and settled himself on the sofa, Mr. Weasley watched him curiously over the pages of the book he’d picked—a Muggle history book on the kingdoms of Britain. The two of them read by lamplight, the fireplace still warmly lit, and Arthur thought he’d never seen a fourteen-year old boy fold blankets before. What was that about?
Harry fell asleep with his book on his chest, and Arthur kept one eye on the window and one eye on his book all night.
The sky was well-lit and sunrise well into its brilliant shades of pink when Arthur saw the two figures of Sirius Black and Remus Lupin appear in the front garden. Sirius’ arm was around Remus’ waist and Remus’ arm on Sirius’ shoulders exactly as they had left, but they were laughing now. Their eyes were twinkling and Remus’ swatted at Sirius’ nose playfully and Sirius’ barked a louder laugh.
Arthur Weasley had never expected to see a werewolf the morning after his transformation laughing. He realized his mouth was open and he closed it quickly. He stood and went over to shake Harry’s shoulder and the boy spluttered awake, alert in an instant.
The front door opened and Sirius and Remus staggered in, their laughter ringing in the quiet morning. Harry stood up quickly from the sofa, pulling off his blanket and putting it on one of the armchairs before turning to appraise his guardians.
“Alright, Arthur?” Sirius asked with a wide grin.
Arthur nodded, smiling back, “Right as rain. Nothing amiss. I am so sorry I was so late last night.”
"Not at all, not at all," Sirius replied easily.
Remus unwrapped his arm from Sirius’ shoulders as he sank onto the sofa, looking at Arthur gratefully. He pulled the folded blankets resting on the arm around his body; despite his wool jumper and trousers, he was shivering. There were shadows under his eyes, and his face looked rather sallow and peaky, but there was light and warmth in his brown eyes. “Thank you, Arthur,” Remus told him for the second time, his voice hoarse.
“Of course,” Arthur told him with deep feeling. He had never seen the toll a transformation alone took on Remus, but he hazarded a guess about it based on everyone’s reaction to his presence tonight, watching over Harry so Sirius could be Padfoot.
Harry had excused himself silently and was returning from the kitchen with a glass of water, handing it to Remus.
“Ta, Harry,” Remus told him with a smile, taking it, draining the water quickly, and handing the glass back to Harry.
Sirius clapped Arthur on the shoulder, “You must be knackered.”
“Actually, I’ve some news that’s kept me quite awake,” Arthur said smiling.
“Well, do tell!” Sirius said, guiding Arthur into the kitchen to make tea and give Remus some peace and quiet.
“Hiya, Uncle Moony,” Harry said softly in the living room as Remus lay his body down onto the sofa, an almost blissful smile was spread on Remus’ tired face even as he shivered among the blankets and the fire’s warmth.
“Hiya, Harry,” Remus murmured, looking up at him.
“Alright here?” Harry asked.
“Oh yes,” Remus nodded, his eyes already drooping closed, and Harry left him to join the two men in the kitchen talking about the Quidditch World Cup.
