Raising Danger
The Calm Before the Storm

There was a fracturing of the friendships at first.  Luna was always on Draco’s side.  Hermione was open minded enough to give him a second chance.  Meghan had no pre-conceived prejudices, and she was drawn to the fact that he was family.  Harry still blamed Draco for Dumbledore’s death.  Neville had displaced his hate of Bellatrix upon her nephew.  Ron and Ginny were blinded by years of ridicule and hate.

But no one could argue that they weren’t bound by something bigger than their dislike.  The necklaces that hung around their necks, still a mystery in their meanings, reminded them each day.

And day-to-day they kept going.  Hermione planned her wedding with Ginny as maid of honor, in spite of their disagreement.  Meghan and Neville still sent each other owls daily.  And Draco continued Auror training in the guise of Max, forcing the other two boys to remain civil.  In spite of the awkwardness things were going well for everyone.

Key word: were.

The chess master moved his pieces carefully, ready to take some pawns.  It was so simple.  Two potions, a specific charm on a muggle automobile, and a command implanted so deeply in a woman’s mind that there was no denying it.  Yes, his plans were going well.

Hermione knocked on McGonagal’s door, and entered when she was called in.  “Hello professor,” Hermione said cheerfully.

“Hello Ms. Granger, to what do I own the pleasure of this visit?  It’s not our normal day for tea.  Not cold feet for tomorrow?”

“No no, the wedding’s all set, and I figured with all the students gone for the holidays you’d have some spare time.  I was wondering if I could get your help solving a puzzle?”  Hermione said, McGonagal was one of the few people that she went to when she had a question, instead of driving herself crazy trying to stubbornly figure something out herself.

“Of course my dear, what do you have?”

Hermione reached for the pendants around her neck, and willed the chain longer, as the founders had explained.  She spread out the five disks to show them.  “These were a gift to my friends and myself.  I’m fairly sure that this pendant represents our parents, because Ron and Ginny’s feature a battery and a muffin.  Arthur and Molly.  No one else has a matching one, but the images seem fairly representative.  Harry’s has a stag for his father, and a tiger for his mother.  But we aren’t sure about the other four pendants.”

Hermione showed her the next pendant, which had a cat, a dragon, and a winged horse.  McGonagal pushed her glasses up farther, and peered closer at the cat.  “Hermione, this cat has the exact same markings as my animagus form.  I would assume that it represents me.  However, it is impossible for anyone to have a magical animal as an animagus form, so while I feel that these other two animals are likely to represent someone, I doubt that those are their forms.”

Hermione smiled, “A dragon would be Hagrid, don’t you think?”  McGonagal nodded, “But I have no idea who a winged horse would be.”

McGonagal lookhed at the next pendant, and the four animals on front and and three on back.  “How many people have necklaces like this?”

“Eight,” Hermione said, “And seven animals.  But you wouldn’t need yourself on your own necklace, so they represent us, don’t they?”

“Your animagus forms, I would presume.”

Hermione peered at a list that she had written down.  “Ron’s has a cat and mine doesn’t, and mine has the bird and his doesn’t.  Those are our forms?”

“It would appear so.  What’s this one?”  The next pendant had a wolf cub and some sort of lizard.  Underneath them were two indistinct figures, the larger one slightly less blurred, but still hard to tell what it was.

“More animagus forms, I’d assume, but who’s?”  McGonagal said.  Hermione shrugged and pulled out the last pendant, the one that didn’t seem to quite match the others.

“A bishop?  Is Ron’s a knight?”  Hermione nodded.  “I’d say it’s an aspect of your personalities.  I’ve known that Ron would be the knight ever since he played in that chess game your first year.”

Hermione nodded, wondering why the pendant with the chess pieces bothered her.

“So, tell me about the wedding plans,” McGonagal said, and Hermione pushed the pendants aside to tell her mentor all about her dream wedding.

Neville stood at the edge of a doorway looking over the calm room where his parents slept.  It was better that they were sleeping.  It wasn’t the day that he normally visited them, and it would only confuse them to see him today.  He composed himself and walked past the room to Healer Guthrie’s office to find out why he had been summoned there.

“Mr. Longbottom, sit down, sit down!”  The healer said, being overly cheerful.

“Healer Guthrie,” Neville said formally, “Is something the matter with my parents?”

“Well,” the healer hesitated, “Not necessarily the matter, but,” she hesitated, “I hope you won’t be embarrassed…” She trailed off, looking uncertain.

“Excuse me?  Neville said, rather confused.

“Well, you see, one of the only things your parents consistently remember are their strong feelings for each other.  Throughout the years there have been times when they are just lucid enough to, um, act on those emotions.”  The blush burning in the healers cheeks made it perfectly clear just how his parents acted upon those emotions, and he tried to push the thoughts about that out of his mind to focus again on the healer.  “Generally they’re that lucid after we try a new treatment on them that is partially successful.  Because of this we’ve had your mother on a contraceptive potion for some time now.  But about a month ago we discovered that your mother was pregnant.  We think that the last potion we tested on them must have negated the effectiveness of the contraceptive.”

“A month ago?”  Neville grasped for one small fact before he tackled the big ones, “Why did you wait to tell me until now?”

The Healer paused, then explained.  “Well, a witches body knows its own limits, even if the mind can’t focus.  We waited because there was a chance that she would naturally miscarry.  At this point we are able to determine that her body is healthy enough to carry the baby to term if you decide it.”

“If I decide it?”  Neville floundered again.

“You’re next of kin and the adult who makes decisions about your parents since you reached majority, as you recall.  If you think it would be best we can perform the abortive spell.”

“And if we don’t?”

“She’ll carry to term.  She’ll be limited to bed and guided exercise.  We’ll be unable to test new treatments on her during the pregnanc and she might experience some disorientation on her bad days when she sees herself pregnant, but as you know, her bad days are rare.  Most importantly though, when the child is born, you’d become the legal guarding.  I know this is a lot to consider.  I know you need time—”

Neville quickly cut the healer off, “I don’t need time.”  He ignored the healers crushed look.  It was easy for Neville to guess what the healer had assumed.  “My parents sacrificed their minds in order to protect their first child.  The would never abort a child.  I want to follow their wishes, and I will raise the child.”  Neville rose from his chair without another word, smiling slightly at the stunned expression on the healers face as he departed.

“God I need a drink,” he muttered as he stepped into the floo.

“You have to take him out, it’s tradition!” Max whispered to Harry.

“Hermione would kill him.  She’d kill me!” Harry whispered back.

“She doesn’t have to know!  And I’m not saying you have to take him out to a strip club or buy him a hooker, just out for drinks.”

Ron looked up from a few meters away, “Do you think I’m deaf, or just dense?”

“Dense,” Max said, without even turning to look at him.  “You’re his best man Harry, it’s your duty!”

“Going out drinking with Harry doesn’t sound that exciting,” Ron chipped in.

“Invite Neville, play drinking games, make it fun!”

“Neville doesn’t drink.  Not after that one time…” Harry trailed off.

“One time?” Max asked, ignoring Ron’s laughter.

“He bet Ron that he could drink more than him.  It didn’t end well.”

“Really?”  Max looked at Ron speculatively.  “He can’t drink that much.  I bet I could beat him.”

Ron bolted up, “Bet what.  And not money.  I have plenty of that.”

Max thought for a moment, “The winner gets to choose any tattoo design for the other person, and the location.”

The glint in Ron’s eye would have made Fred and George proud, “Magically binding bet.”

With a nod Max took out his wand, and they sealed the deal.

“Come on, let’s owl Neville and go out.”

Four young men stumbled down a dark alleyway, one of them much more drunk than the rest, and another one somewhat more sober.  They supported each other as best as they could.

“Should we be in Knockturn Alley?”  One of them slurred.

“Relax Nev.  You’re with three Aurors.  And Harry Potter.  Why’re there two of you mate?”

“Need two of me to hold Draco up,” Harry muttered, struggling to keep Draco walking.

“And Knockturn Alley’s the only place with the tattoo parlor we need.  I know just what I’m making him get.”

Completely sober and even lacking a hangover thanks to Georg’es miraculous patented Sobering Solution, Ron stood in a small room looking more nervous than he had since before Voldemorto’s defeat.

“Calm down mate, or you’ll force me to do something to take your mind off of everything,” Harry said with a grin.

“Do it.  Distract me,” Ron said, trying to swallow around the lump in his throat.

“You asked for it.”  Harry waved his wand and Ron’s dapper tux was transformed into something horridly familiar.  The sight of Ron Weasley in burgundy robes with moldy lace was hilarious enough.  Add to the fact that Harry had made it the same size as it had been when Ron was fourteen—well, it certainly distracted Ron.

A knock on the door tore Ron’s attention from the ghastly robes, and a second later Mr. Weasley was poking his head in the doorway.  “Ron, you need to come out now, everything’s starting in just a moment.”  He glanced over his shoulder in distraction “And make sure you straighten your tie.”

Ron turned to glare at Harry and the transfigured tuxedo was quickly returned to normal.  With a wave of Harry’s wand the tie was straight, and everything was ready.

“Relax mate.  You two were made for each other.  Nothing can go wrong today.”

Ron squared his shoulders and looked Harry in the eye, “Someday you’ll be in my shoes, and you’ll realize that this is scarier than basilisks and death eaters and Voldemort put together.  Come on, lets get this over with.”

Harry followed Ron out to stand in front of the church’s alter.  It was the same church that Hermione’s parents had gotten married in, and they had taken great pains to make sure that all of the witches and wizards there blended in enough for Hermione’s muggle relatives to be there.  It wasn’t as cozy as Bill’s wedding at the burrow had been, but it was important to Hermione to be there.  Her muggle relatives were mad enough about not hearing about Danger’s birth that there would have been no living down not inviting them to the wedding.

Ron smiled slightly as he thought of Danger.  Ever since they’d met the Hogwarts Founders the nickname had stuck, in spite of Hermione’s father’s dissapproval.  Danger was five months old now.  Too young to be a flower girl, but her little dress matched the bridesmaids, and she was in all of the wedding photos.

The maid of honor was Ginny, with Luna as the other bridesmaid.  Harry was, of course, best man, and Neville finished off the wedding party.

Harry followed Ron’s nervous gaze felt his heart jump into his throat.  Ginny stood framed in the doorway at the back of the church.  She was beautiful, stunning, gorgeous.  He didn’t think there was actually a word strong enough to describe how she looked at that moment.  Her hair was up in curls, her brown eyes and freckles standing out against her pale skin.  The green dress she wore matched the leaves in the bouquet of white roses and lilies.  Harry had never seen a more beautiful site in his life.

The pianist, Meghan’s mother, began to play a song that Harry faintly remembered hearing before, but couldn’t place.  Ginny began the slow walk towards the front of the room, and Harry began to wonder how long it would be before he stood in Ron’s place, and Ginny would be the one in white.

Harry wrenched his gaze from he sight of his beloved in time to see Luna start her way down the aisle.  Her hair was done up like Ginny’s, and Harry was once again reminded that Luna could be very pretty when she wasn’t too distracted to try.  His eyes sought out another person, hastily placed into the wedding as an usher.  Harry was unsurprised to see that ‘Max’ was staring at Luna in awe.  Draco had only two things going for him: the fact that before he had revealed his disguise Harry had liked him quite a bit, and his obviously growing feelings for Luna.  Unfortunately those were two large things, and Harry’s resentment of the boy was growing less each day, even when he tried to actively maintain it.

Harry looked back at the doorway as a gasp rippled through the room, mostly from Hermione’s relatives and the few reporters there at the wedding.  It was unsurprising.  Most of Hermione’s family hadn’t seen her since before she went to Hogwarts, and remembered the bushy-haired no-it-all with too large teeth.  The reporters had all seen photos of Hermione war battered and grime covered after their year of chasing the horcruxes.  Those who had seen her at the Yule ball remembered just how beautiful she could be when she really tried.  Add to that the glow of a happy bride, and Hermione was magnificent.

Harry watched, bemused, as the wedding seemed to fly past.  No one had ever mentioned to him before how short weddings were.  It was a matter of minutes for the minister to say his piece, then Ron and Hermione were saying their vows, Ginny was holding Hermione’s bouquet, Harry was handing Ron the ring, then they were kissing while everyone applauded.

Within minutes they were all in the reception hall, dancing, laughing, and eating snacks.  Harry was amused at the reactions of the muggles to Butterbeer.  He stood next to Ginny smiling at the crowd and trying to ignore the reporters when he was approached by Max.  Ginny looked at him in distaste, and looked as if she was about to walk away when a slightly tipsy Ron came over and threw his arm around Max’s shoulders, stopping her in her tracks.

“Since when are you two so chummy?”  She asked with narrowed eyes.

“Show her Max,” Ron said with a smug smile on his face.

Max sighed and rolled up his sleve, to the spot where the Dark Mark was once placed.  In its spot was a magically animated tattoo of a the face of a very smug Ron Weasley.

Ginny didn’t even bother to stifle her giggles, “How did that happen?”

“He agreed to a magically binding bet that he could out drink me,” Ron said proudly.

“Yeah, well, no one warned me that you are apparently immune to fire whiskey,” Max muttered.

“He didn’t use to be.  You should have seen him the first time he had it.  The summer after his fifth year he found a bottle that Bill had hidden really well in his old room, and he decided to try and drink it.  He had three shots before he was violently ill.  I covered for him, told mum that he must have had the flu.  The idiot went back and tried again a few days later.  Kept doing it all summer until he could take shots without being sick.  Stubborn fool,” Ginny said, looking at her brother fondly.

Ron shrugged, “It was a rough summer.”  He said simply.

Harry shook off the dark thoughts that came with that statement, and turned to Max.  “Hey, I want you to meet someone.”  Max followed Harry as they left the main room and stepped into a side room where Harry had just seen someone else enter.

“Bella?” Max asked, taking a step backwards towards the door.  Harry shut the door firmly to block his escape as the woman turned towards him.

“No, I’m Andy.  You knew my sister?”

“A little more than knew,” Harry said softly, taking the sleeping Teddy from Andy’s arms.  “I think you should show her, and I think the two of you should talk.  It should have happened long before now.”

Harry slipped out of the door with his godson, and lingered just long enough to hear Max tell Andy not to be alarmed and cast a finite.

Draco stared at the aunt he had always known existed, but had never been allowed to know.  “Don’t be alarmed,” He said quietly, before turning his wand on himself and casting a finite charm.  His disguise melted away, and he stood before her, waiting for her reaction.

“Oh, Draco,” She murmured, bringing her hand up to her mouth.  “Oh God, how you’ve grown… Oh how I hate that man!”

Draco looked up in surprise.  “What?”

Andy looked like she regretted her words, but didn’t back down from telling him the truth.  “I visited once, after you were born, to see you.  Your father found out, and told your mother that he would hurt her if it happened again, since I was a blood traitor.  She visited me once more, when he found out, he beat her.  I told her that I couldn’t stand her getting hurt over me.  She told me she didn’t care…that she was used to it.  The last time she came to see me he beat her again and told her that if it happened one more time then he would take it out on you instead.  I never saw her, or you, again.  Until now.”

Draco shook his head slowly, “That’s not possible.  My father never struck me, or my mother.”

Andy shook her head just as slowly, “I’m sure by the time you were old enough to remember it had stopped and Cissy was a perfectly obedient trophy wife.  And in time I think he has grown to actually love her.  His actions at the end of the war seem to indicate so at least.”

Draco nodded, “He’s about out of his mind worried about her right now.”

“Worried, whatever for?  Is she sick?”  Andy looked alarm.

“Not sick, per say.  Pregnant.  Six months right now, and on permanent bed rest for the duration. it’s a wonder she hasn’t gone mad herself.”

Andy’s face was a comical expression of joy and dismay, “Oh she’ll be so happy to have another child!  But its so dangerous for her!  I shouldn’t really be possible honestly, unless the curse is broken… and maybe it is now that Voldemort is defeated.”

“Curse?” Draco asked.

“Yes, a stupid and unfortunate curse on the ‘House of Black’ designed to kill us off.  One child each before our own death, and only then if there is love involved.  I think that’s why your mother had such a hard time having children in the first place.  Your father spent a lot of money on controversial potions to enable your birth.”

Draco nodded, “That explains a lot.  I hope that doesn’t hold true for my generation.”

“Well, so far it has,” she said sadly, “My Dora is gone, leaving Teddy behind.  You’re the only one left of your generation.”

“Well,” Draco said with a grin, “That’s not quite true.  I seems that your cousin Sirius and his girlfriend had just conceived right before he ended up in Azkaban.  His daughter Meghan is here at the wedding in fact.  Ms. Freeman left for America to live with a family member there after Sirius’ betrayal, and she didn’t find out about his innocence until after the war was over, and she moved back here.  So there’s Meghan, myself, Teddy, and my new brother or sister once they’re born.  We’re not in danger of dying out yet.”

“Well I’ll have to be sure to meet this new cousin of mine,” Andy said to herself, “And Draco?  Don’t be a stranger.  I don’t have much family left.  I’m glad that you’re becoming friends with Harry.  Maybe Teddy will have more family than I thought possible.”

To Draco’s shock she hugged him lightly before stepping out of the room back towards the reception.  Draco paused to reapply his glamour before stepping back into the room, but not before he noticed how thin and frail Andy had felt when she put her arms around him, and how tired she seemed.  He hoped that she wasn’t coming down with something.  He also needed as much family as he could get.