'Is he in any danger? Is he dying?'
'Just unconscious. I can't say for sure how long this unconsciousness is going to last, but I'll give you some charms for pain in case he wakes up. More than that, I really can't do.'
'Thanks, doctor,' said Sirius, listlessly accepting the Charm packets Dr. Branford drew out of his little black bag, and pocketing them.
'How much do I owe you?'
'Nothing,' said the doctor, edging away from Sirius. 'I'll just be getting on now, shall I?'
'I'll owl you if there's any change-'
'No, please don't,' said Dr. Branford, and fled.
Sirius sighed, leaning his head against the bars of the cage, hearing the doctor's footsteps fade away in the distance. Slowly, he took his wand out of the sleeve of his robe, and tapped the tip of it against one of the cell bars. 'Alter orbis attinge,' he said, using a spell that he had learned during Auror training, which would alert him when Lupin awoke with a buzzing of his wand. He looked down at Lupin.
'Old friend,' he said softly. 'What have I gotten you into?'
The wolf made no reply, and in fact there was no sound in the dungeon whatsoever, outside of the demon's harsh breathing and the guilty beating of Sirius' own heart.
'I'm not sure staring at that thing like it's going out of style is going to give you any insight, Hermione,' said Harry.
Hermione looked up from her examination of the Lycanthe, and shot him a look. They were both sitting at the kitchen table, Hermione surrounded by books and notes, the Lycanthe lying on a dinner plate in front of her. The Wizarding Wireless Network buzzed faintly in the background. The inquest into Lucius Malfoy's death continues at Ministry Headquarters in London…meanwhile, in more rural news, an upsurge in werewolf sightings has been reported by wizards in the south…
'On the other hand,' Harry added hastily, 'if you're enjoying yourself, more power to you.'
Charlie glanced over at them curiously from his place by the stove.
He had an apron tied around his waist and was stirring a pot of vegetables with a long wooden spoon. Ron had been teasing him unmercifully about his apron, but Hermione privately thought he looked cute. Something about him, in fact, was making her wonder if Harry could cook anything. Probably not, there had never been much opportunity for Harry, busy with world-saving and evil-defeating as he was, to learn how to boil so much as an egg. 'What are you talking about?' Charlie asked.
'This,' said Hermione slightly dispiritedly, holding up the Lycanthe.
'I've been trying to figure out what it is, what it does, but so far…'
'I've seen that shape,' said Charlie, wiping his hands off on a tea-towel and walking over to stand by Hermione. 'Carved into the side of trees in the forest. It's old.'
'It's a Lycanthe,' said Hermione. 'It protects travellers against werewolves. Only, I think it does other things as well. When I hold it-
'
'Can I see?' Charlie asked, and held out his hand.
Feeling an actual stab of reluctance at the thought of letting go of it, Hermione handed it over. Charlie turned it over curiously in his fingers. 'Monitum ex quod audiri nequit,' he murmured, and it gave off a sudden sharp flash, like sparked tinder. 'Ow!' Charlie exclaimed, and dropped it back into her hand, looking sheepish. 'I guess that didn't work.'
Relieved to have it back, Hermione smiled at him. 'That's okay.'
The cellar door banged open and Ginny emerged, looking dusty and irritable. Hermione glanced up at her. 'Anything?'
Ginny shook her head. 'I found Fred and George's magazine collection under a paving stone. And when I say collection, I do mean collection. It was edifying.' She shook her head. 'That cellar is huge,' she added. 'And its got all sorts of twisty little corridors leading off every which way.'
There was a thunking sound, which turned out to be Ron jogging down the stairs. He came into the kitchen, opened the refrigerator door, took out a carton of milk, and drank out of it.
'Ron,' said Charlie warningly, flapping his apron.
'Sorry.' Ron put the milk down, and turned to face Harry, Ginny and Hermione who were staring at him with identical expressions of rabid curiosity. 'What?'
'Did he apologize?' Harry demanded.
'Not in so many words. He made a speech, I threw a knife at him, I started teaching him to play chess, then he fell asleep in the middle of our second game and knocked all the pawns over.'
They all blinked at him. 'You're joking about the knife, of course,' said Harry, finally.
'Maybe,' said Ron, with a half-smile. He reached into his pocket and took out the pocketknife, and tossed it to Harry, who caught it out of the air and looked at it with a bemused expression.
'So, Draco isn't such an awful git as he used to be, is he?' asked Hermione triumphantly.
Ron rolled his eyes. 'No. He's still an awful git. Now, he's just an awful git who owes me thirty Galleons.'
'You played chess with him for money?'
Ron wasn't listening. 'If you fall asleep in the middle of a game, is that a forfeit?'
Charlie looked up. 'He's asleep? Isn't someone supposed to be sitting with him?'
'I am not,' said Ron firmly, 'going to sit around and watch Malfoy sleep. Anyway, he woke up for a second and said 'get out of here, Weasley, you gimp'. I don't think he wants me watching him sleep either.'
