Beware the Fan Fiction Rated R it be
Right Oh! This is the first chapter of my Remus Lost Years fic.
With his best friends dead and his lover in Azkaban Remus Lupin has no choice but to pick up the pieces of his life and move on. But with so much changed is he moving on or just wandering?
Oct. 31, 1981: Four Days After the New Moon.
Sirius had just handed his motorbike off to Hagrid, who had taken off immediately with Harry in the crook of his elbow. Now he was staring at the rubble, a light breeze blindly drifting across Godric’s Hollow, lifting his hair off of his shoulders, and causing the long coat he was wearing to ripple.
His best friend was dead, and there was a very good chance that it was his fault. Ahh, but there were two things that could have happened; either Peter had been tortured into giving the location of the Potter’s safe house, or he was the traitor they had all been suspecting one another of being. Either way someone was going to have to pay, the question was ‘who?’ Sirius realized he was going to have to be the one to find the answer, and this expedition would be the hardest yet.
There was no James to tag team with, and Remus was hard to contact even when he wasn’t confined to a bed at St. Mungo’s due to a particularly bad transformation. No, Sirius was on his own this time around. He turned into the breeze, and looked to a sky in which only the brightest stars could be seen.
“I’ll find out who’s responsible James, don’t you worry. I’ll get ‘em.” And with a pop Sirius was gone into the night.
Nov. 1, 1981: Morning
It had taken those last few hours of Halloween and all the early morning to track down Peter, but at last, there he was. He was making his way down a street of Muggle London, head down, and occasionally glancing about to see if he was being followed. Ironically, he found undesirable company not behind him, as he had been fearing, but ahead of him. The squat man caught sight of a tall sleek, familiar figure coming toward him. Instantly he turned tail, attempting to speed off in the opposite direction.
Unfortunately for all parties involved, the crowd arrested Peter’s progress and Sirius was able to catch up to him with little effort. The next thing Peter knew, there was a familiar hand on his shoulder.
“How did He find them Pete?” Sirius’ voice was low, to keep the Muggles from overhearing too much, and because he was trying to keep calm.
Peter jumped, turned to face Sirius and saying, “Oh! Sirius. Uh… What are you talking about?”
“Cut the crap Peter. I’ve heard a few rumors in the past six hours, and I’d like to discover what amount of validity they hold.”
Peter swallowed hard, “Rumors? What kind of rumors?” He was beginning to look frantic, and was having trouble standing still.
“How did Voldemort find Lily and James?” Sirius said as he moved to grab Peter’s other shoulder, so that he could keep him in place. Peter shifted away and took several steps backward, making no apologies when he bumped into an elderly woman. “No Pete, no. How could you?”
The rumors were true. Peter Pettigrew was the traitor. And at that moment he was looking especially frantic. Sirius couldn’t blame him; after all, he had good cause. Although Sirius was stunned, it was likely he would only be in such a state momentarily. Soon enough Sirius would be out for vengeance.
The portion of Pettigrew’s mind that was ruled by the rat took over; it knew how to escape from danger.
“LILY AND JAMES! HOW COULD YOU SIRIUS? HOW COULD YOU BETRAY LILY AND JAMES LIKE THAT? WASN’T HE YOUR BEST FRIEND? YOU'RE A MONSTER! HOW COULD YOU SELL THEM LIKE THAT?” Peter shouted to the street at large, moving his hands behind his back. Sirius saw the movement and pulled out his own wand. By the time he had the tip in the air, it was too late.
There was an explosion and screaming, and Peter was gone. Or at least he was gone to the casual observer who hadn’t aided the beast in mastering the spell necessary to change his shape. Sirius saw the rat disappearing into the sewer and knew there was nothing he could do. The Ministry would be there in a matter of seconds, swarming over the area performing damage control as best they could.
They were going to pin it all on him, not just the Muggles and Peter, but Lily and James as well. Sirius knew it even as the Muggles peered at him in fright from the alleyways. Even Remus would believe it had been him. His Remus would hate him. Oh how could he have ever suspected Remus? How? Well, it was too late now he could only hope they allowed him a trial. Knowing the Ministry these days, however, that wasn't too likely.
That was when he began laughing. Laughing with temporary madness and the overwhelming despair that was settling over him just as the dust was settling over the street. He was still laughing when he saw the ministry officials coming to take him away.
Nov. 1, 1981: Noon
The nurse handed Remus his threadbare robes and hurried out of the room, no doubt waiting anxiously outside so that they could usher him to the street as soon as he walked into the hall. It didn't surprise him that even after receiving mediocre grades in Divination he had the woman's actions clearly in his mind.
It was all well enough with him. Remus didn't much like being in the hospital, especially for wounds sustained during the full moon. Twenty-nine days of convalescence, such a waste of good moon free time. He hadn't been able to enjoy the waning, and now he would be facing the next full moon still tired from the last.
It wasn't as though there was anything he could do about it; well, anything more than get home to his mother and rest up as much as he could manage with the work for the Order that needed catching up on.
He decided to get a drink at the Leaky Cauldron before using the fire to floo home. He wasn't even seated before he heard the talk going on around the pub. It would have been hard to miss, as the air was practically buzzing with excitement and rumors. But this news was so absurd that he must have heard wrong. Just to be sure, Remus rose from the seat that he hadn't actually occupied yet, and approached one of the smaller groups he had overheard.
"Excuse me, but I could have sworn I heard you say that Voldemort is gone," Remus said in a steady voice. He didn't repeat what else he thought he had heard, because it couldn't be possible, it had to have been some sort of distortion caused by the ruckus in the pub.
"What, you ‘aven't heard yet?" answered a wizard Remus recognized as having been a seventh year during the group's first year.
"I've just gotten out of St. Mungo's. Nasty accident."
"Oh, well, what better day for you to be out of the 'ospital then! You heard right. Word is he tracked down the Potters," Remus blanched but the other wizard went on talking, "and killed James and Lily. Rest their souls. He was going to do in their boy, but ended up blastin' 'imslef. Funny to think we was all saved by an infant. Hey, you don't look so good. Yah need a drink?"
"What? Oh, no. I must be on my way, thank you very much for the offer." Remus' words were quick and jumbled, spoken as he stumbled toward the fireplace. It was incomprehensible, the only way he could have found them would be if the secret had been revealed by the secret-keeper. No! Sirius would never have betrayed them. He would have died first. Remus needed to know what was going to, he needed to see Dumbledore. He just hoped the headmaster would be there when he flooed in.
The headmaster was not at Hogwarts when Remus arrived, nor was he at Order headquarters. No one could give him straight answers to anything. Moody eventually told him to go home and rest, and that as soon as they knew anything, he would tell him. Remus went home, but there was no way he could rest or even wait for word from the Order. He spent the night trying to owl Dumbledore or Sirius, even Peter, but all the owls returned looking very perturbed. Something must have happened. Something big. Regardless of the fatigue and the approaching full moon Remus spent the whole night in his mother's worn but tidy kitchen pacing back and forth until morning.
Nov. 2, 1981: 9 Days Until the full moon.
Remus had just slumped over at the kitchen table when the owl carrying the Daily Prophet fluttered onto the exterior ledge of the window over the sink and began pecking at the glass. He roused himself and opened the window, taking the paper from the owl and then paying it. He was dangerously tired, but nothing, not even all the chocolate dipped espresso beans in the world, could have woken someone as quickly as seeing that morning's front page roused Lupin.
MAD MAN MASSACRES MUGGLES!
Suspected Connection to You Know Who.
Beneath the headline was a photograph of a huge crater in the middle of a Muggle street. Ministry officials were scattered through the background, rounding up Muggles, taking statements and performing memory charms. All of this wasn't what startled Remus so badly, what did was that in the foreground of the photo was Sirius being lead away by six very large men. It was as though the bottom had dropped out of the world, and now Remus was floating through that vast vacuum of despair.
All this time, his suspicions had been correct. Remus didn't like thinking that, and read the article wishing for it to contain something, anything that would allow his breathing to slow and his chest to relax. With each line he read it only got worse. Accounts of Peter's final words, Sirius' laughter, and Peter's death solidified the fears he had.
Taking the paper with him, he walked upstairs to his bedroom, and collapsed face first onto the bed. There was a moment of silence as he adjusted to the cool fabric against his skin. And then the tears came. He clutched the newspaper in his hands and curled his body around it as sobs broke the silence that hung until then delicate and immaculate in the room. There was a point when he feared he would never be able to stop the tears and chest seizing sobs, but eventually they tapered off as sleep took over, eager to reclaim the hours it had been denied.
Remus woke hours later, as the sun was sloping toward the western horizon, staining the November sky that familiar shade of crimson that had brought them together. He sat up rubbing his eyes, smearing black ink from the copy of the Prophet he had fallen asleep with across his cheek.
"We can make photos move, yet we can't make ink that stays on the damn paper. Figures." The words were spoken by a voice that sounded even more tired than it had earlier in the day before it had indulged in sleep. The voice that spoke wasn't just tired, it was heartbroken and strained from crying. The owner of the voice got to his feet, wincing at the stiffness that tugged at his back and shoulder muscles. He crumpled the soggy, torn remains of that morning's paper and dropped it into the wastebasket he kept under his desk. He stared at it a moment with bloodshot amber eyes before covering it with paper that had been tossed earlier and leaving the room.
Remus felt confident that he had regained control of himself, that he had formulated a plan of action. All during his fretful sleep, yes. He wouldn't do anything until he made contact with Dumbledore. He wouldn't jump to conclusions, and most importantly, he would not panic.
This was all fine and well until he walked into the kitchen after a strenuous attempt to remove the ink from his hands and face. There on the scrub worn table was the Evening Prophet, the headline read:
Black Set for Life in Azkaban
The color brought to Remus' face by the scrubbing off the ink quickly drained. He hurried to pick up the paper and read the new article.
“Sirius Black, arrested early this morning for the murder of thirteen Muggles and the wizard Peter Pettigrew, after being denied his request for questioning under Veritaserum confessed to being responsible for the deaths. He was sentenced to life in Azkaban by the Ministry of Magic, who think this could be a turning point in the decline of violence in relation to You-Know-Who’s followers.
Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge had this to say, ‘…this arrest is a great victory. We have reason to believe that Black was one of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’s inner circle. With his capture we will no doubt be able to take many more high ranking Death Eaters into custody.”
There was more to the article, all about the Ministry’s stance on Death Eaters and the urgency in which they were rounding them up. Remus finished scanning the rest just as an owl swooped through the open window carrying a short note from Dumbledore. It asked that Remus floo into the headmaster’s office for they had something of great importance to discuss.
With a quick check in the mirror to be sure he wasn’t looking too severely bedraggled, Remus made his way to the cold hearth. He stared a fire, tossed the emerald dust on the flames and walked in.
When he stumbled out of the fireplace in Dumbledore’s office he was surprised to find the wizard who always seemed so undefeatable sitting at his desk with signs of weariness showing in the bent way he was holding himself. There was a silence for a moment as Dumbledore stared at Remus, who was lost in thought. Thoughts of Sirius, of the man he had thought he was. Nothing made any sense anymore, but then a glimmer of hope entered his mind.
“What if he’s been under the Imperious curse this whole time?” Remus didn’t mean to say it aloud. He had even promised himself that he wouldn’t bring up Sirius, that he’d let Dumbledore say what he’d asked him there for, but with the lack of restful sleep his usual careful, guarded self-control wasn’t functioning.
“Remus, the Ministry thinks that considering his family and the fact that he was well known for being able to fight the curse-“
Remus cut him off, “Sir, if I wanted the Ministry’s thoughts on the matter I could read the newspaper… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to sound like that.”
“Well I have to apologize as well. I hadn’t intended to mention the Ministry. I asked you here to see to what questions you may have as well as your emotional state at this point,” Dumbledore answered straightening up and looking more alert.
“Today’s edition of the Evening Prophet cleared up any questions I head earlier other than where you took Harry. As for me, I’m fine.” Remus was calm, determined not to make a scene there in the office.
Dumbledore fixed him with a knowing look. “Remus J. Lupin, it is perfectly normal for you to be a little more than emotionally off balance at a time like this.” At the steady look from Remus he moved onto the other point that had been made. “I arranged for Harry to live with his mother’s sister.”
“But they’re Muggles,” Remus interjected.
“Yes, and it is the safest place for him. They are his blood.” Remus did not argue. He wasn’t Harry’s godfather, and even if he was, Dumbledore was right, blood was a powerful bond and guardian. “Now there is another matter I wanted to discuss,” Dumbledore paused until Remus gestured for him to continue, “With the Ministry taking up the Death Eater hunt there has been talk amongst Order members about scaling back, and they will be allowed to leave retiring from their duties.”
Remus was wondering where this was going, but chose not to voice his thoughts just yet. Years of experience had taught him that the Professor would make his point in good time.
“Remus, the question is weather or not you want to stay on, watching for any signs of trouble. Not as officially as the past few years, and it will definitely not be so time consuming.”
There was silence for a moment before Remus asked, “Can I have some time to think it over?”
“By all means.”
Another brief silence ended in another request, “Would anyone mind terribly if I were to wander the old corridors a bit?”
“I can’t see why not,” Dumbledore replied, with a rather forced smile. Remus nodded in thanks as he got to his feet and made his way to the door.
The long hallway was silent and deserted. A special holiday had been declared on Voldemort’s defeat and almost all of the student population was gone, at home celebrating with family. Occasionally a student could cross his path, but words were never brought into the matter. Remus would quietly skirt around them either out in the middle of the walkway or close by the wall.
He had walked two floors and was starting down the stairs to the entrance hall when he met Snape, the newly hired Potions Master and the longtime enemy of Remus and his old friends. Remus was the first to notice the other, and he stopped on the fourth step down as memories connected to Snape and a million pranks were rudely prodded.
“Lupin.”
“Snape.”
“Black in Azkaban. Always knew it would happen, though I never fathomed it would be for getting his snog partner killed,” Snape said crossing his arms over his chest.
“Snape, I’ll have you know, you’re treading on dangerous ground,” Remus said through gritted teeth.
“Oh, were you fucking him too then?”
Remus was down the stairs separating them in an instant, his body begging to do something violent, but his brain overrode everything else just as he raised his fist. It would do no good to pound Snape into the marble. Doing so would change nothing, or rather, it would change things, but none for the better. He deflated, dropping his arm to his side. “Shut up, Snape.”
“Ah, I seem to have hit a nerve.” The words were practically hissed, and the warm breath that bore them set Remus’ hair to swaying. “Sirius Black got what he deserved. Well, deserved most of things he got, anyway.” The look Snape gave him seemed strangely meaningful, but Remus brushed it off. He also retreated a step; he was suddenly feeling even less comfortable being in such close proximity to Severus Snape.
There was a terse moment of silence. “I have to see the headmaster,” Snape declared at last breaking the silence.
As Snape walked past Remus turned and said, “Could you tell him I’ll owl my decision some time this week?”
The dark hared man looked down at Remus a moment, for sure contemplating whether it was worth his time. Then, much to Remus’ surprise, he nodded, “Yes, all right.” With a swish of black fabric Snape disappeared at the top of the staircase.
Remus sighed, and walked out onto the grounds.
With his best friends dead and his lover in Azkaban Remus Lupin has no choice but to pick up the pieces of his life and move on. But with so much changed is he moving on or just wandering?
Oct. 31, 1981: Four Days After the New Moon.
Sirius had just handed his motorbike off to Hagrid, who had taken off immediately with Harry in the crook of his elbow. Now he was staring at the rubble, a light breeze blindly drifting across Godric’s Hollow, lifting his hair off of his shoulders, and causing the long coat he was wearing to ripple.
His best friend was dead, and there was a very good chance that it was his fault. Ahh, but there were two things that could have happened; either Peter had been tortured into giving the location of the Potter’s safe house, or he was the traitor they had all been suspecting one another of being. Either way someone was going to have to pay, the question was ‘who?’ Sirius realized he was going to have to be the one to find the answer, and this expedition would be the hardest yet.
There was no James to tag team with, and Remus was hard to contact even when he wasn’t confined to a bed at St. Mungo’s due to a particularly bad transformation. No, Sirius was on his own this time around. He turned into the breeze, and looked to a sky in which only the brightest stars could be seen.
“I’ll find out who’s responsible James, don’t you worry. I’ll get ‘em.” And with a pop Sirius was gone into the night.
Nov. 1, 1981: Morning
It had taken those last few hours of Halloween and all the early morning to track down Peter, but at last, there he was. He was making his way down a street of Muggle London, head down, and occasionally glancing about to see if he was being followed. Ironically, he found undesirable company not behind him, as he had been fearing, but ahead of him. The squat man caught sight of a tall sleek, familiar figure coming toward him. Instantly he turned tail, attempting to speed off in the opposite direction.
Unfortunately for all parties involved, the crowd arrested Peter’s progress and Sirius was able to catch up to him with little effort. The next thing Peter knew, there was a familiar hand on his shoulder.
“How did He find them Pete?” Sirius’ voice was low, to keep the Muggles from overhearing too much, and because he was trying to keep calm.
Peter jumped, turned to face Sirius and saying, “Oh! Sirius. Uh… What are you talking about?”
“Cut the crap Peter. I’ve heard a few rumors in the past six hours, and I’d like to discover what amount of validity they hold.”
Peter swallowed hard, “Rumors? What kind of rumors?” He was beginning to look frantic, and was having trouble standing still.
“How did Voldemort find Lily and James?” Sirius said as he moved to grab Peter’s other shoulder, so that he could keep him in place. Peter shifted away and took several steps backward, making no apologies when he bumped into an elderly woman. “No Pete, no. How could you?”
The rumors were true. Peter Pettigrew was the traitor. And at that moment he was looking especially frantic. Sirius couldn’t blame him; after all, he had good cause. Although Sirius was stunned, it was likely he would only be in such a state momentarily. Soon enough Sirius would be out for vengeance.
The portion of Pettigrew’s mind that was ruled by the rat took over; it knew how to escape from danger.
“LILY AND JAMES! HOW COULD YOU SIRIUS? HOW COULD YOU BETRAY LILY AND JAMES LIKE THAT? WASN’T HE YOUR BEST FRIEND? YOU'RE A MONSTER! HOW COULD YOU SELL THEM LIKE THAT?” Peter shouted to the street at large, moving his hands behind his back. Sirius saw the movement and pulled out his own wand. By the time he had the tip in the air, it was too late.
There was an explosion and screaming, and Peter was gone. Or at least he was gone to the casual observer who hadn’t aided the beast in mastering the spell necessary to change his shape. Sirius saw the rat disappearing into the sewer and knew there was nothing he could do. The Ministry would be there in a matter of seconds, swarming over the area performing damage control as best they could.
They were going to pin it all on him, not just the Muggles and Peter, but Lily and James as well. Sirius knew it even as the Muggles peered at him in fright from the alleyways. Even Remus would believe it had been him. His Remus would hate him. Oh how could he have ever suspected Remus? How? Well, it was too late now he could only hope they allowed him a trial. Knowing the Ministry these days, however, that wasn't too likely.
That was when he began laughing. Laughing with temporary madness and the overwhelming despair that was settling over him just as the dust was settling over the street. He was still laughing when he saw the ministry officials coming to take him away.
Nov. 1, 1981: Noon
The nurse handed Remus his threadbare robes and hurried out of the room, no doubt waiting anxiously outside so that they could usher him to the street as soon as he walked into the hall. It didn't surprise him that even after receiving mediocre grades in Divination he had the woman's actions clearly in his mind.
It was all well enough with him. Remus didn't much like being in the hospital, especially for wounds sustained during the full moon. Twenty-nine days of convalescence, such a waste of good moon free time. He hadn't been able to enjoy the waning, and now he would be facing the next full moon still tired from the last.
It wasn't as though there was anything he could do about it; well, anything more than get home to his mother and rest up as much as he could manage with the work for the Order that needed catching up on.
He decided to get a drink at the Leaky Cauldron before using the fire to floo home. He wasn't even seated before he heard the talk going on around the pub. It would have been hard to miss, as the air was practically buzzing with excitement and rumors. But this news was so absurd that he must have heard wrong. Just to be sure, Remus rose from the seat that he hadn't actually occupied yet, and approached one of the smaller groups he had overheard.
"Excuse me, but I could have sworn I heard you say that Voldemort is gone," Remus said in a steady voice. He didn't repeat what else he thought he had heard, because it couldn't be possible, it had to have been some sort of distortion caused by the ruckus in the pub.
"What, you ‘aven't heard yet?" answered a wizard Remus recognized as having been a seventh year during the group's first year.
"I've just gotten out of St. Mungo's. Nasty accident."
"Oh, well, what better day for you to be out of the 'ospital then! You heard right. Word is he tracked down the Potters," Remus blanched but the other wizard went on talking, "and killed James and Lily. Rest their souls. He was going to do in their boy, but ended up blastin' 'imslef. Funny to think we was all saved by an infant. Hey, you don't look so good. Yah need a drink?"
"What? Oh, no. I must be on my way, thank you very much for the offer." Remus' words were quick and jumbled, spoken as he stumbled toward the fireplace. It was incomprehensible, the only way he could have found them would be if the secret had been revealed by the secret-keeper. No! Sirius would never have betrayed them. He would have died first. Remus needed to know what was going to, he needed to see Dumbledore. He just hoped the headmaster would be there when he flooed in.
The headmaster was not at Hogwarts when Remus arrived, nor was he at Order headquarters. No one could give him straight answers to anything. Moody eventually told him to go home and rest, and that as soon as they knew anything, he would tell him. Remus went home, but there was no way he could rest or even wait for word from the Order. He spent the night trying to owl Dumbledore or Sirius, even Peter, but all the owls returned looking very perturbed. Something must have happened. Something big. Regardless of the fatigue and the approaching full moon Remus spent the whole night in his mother's worn but tidy kitchen pacing back and forth until morning.
Nov. 2, 1981: 9 Days Until the full moon.
Remus had just slumped over at the kitchen table when the owl carrying the Daily Prophet fluttered onto the exterior ledge of the window over the sink and began pecking at the glass. He roused himself and opened the window, taking the paper from the owl and then paying it. He was dangerously tired, but nothing, not even all the chocolate dipped espresso beans in the world, could have woken someone as quickly as seeing that morning's front page roused Lupin.
MAD MAN MASSACRES MUGGLES!
Suspected Connection to You Know Who.
Beneath the headline was a photograph of a huge crater in the middle of a Muggle street. Ministry officials were scattered through the background, rounding up Muggles, taking statements and performing memory charms. All of this wasn't what startled Remus so badly, what did was that in the foreground of the photo was Sirius being lead away by six very large men. It was as though the bottom had dropped out of the world, and now Remus was floating through that vast vacuum of despair.
All this time, his suspicions had been correct. Remus didn't like thinking that, and read the article wishing for it to contain something, anything that would allow his breathing to slow and his chest to relax. With each line he read it only got worse. Accounts of Peter's final words, Sirius' laughter, and Peter's death solidified the fears he had.
Taking the paper with him, he walked upstairs to his bedroom, and collapsed face first onto the bed. There was a moment of silence as he adjusted to the cool fabric against his skin. And then the tears came. He clutched the newspaper in his hands and curled his body around it as sobs broke the silence that hung until then delicate and immaculate in the room. There was a point when he feared he would never be able to stop the tears and chest seizing sobs, but eventually they tapered off as sleep took over, eager to reclaim the hours it had been denied.
Remus woke hours later, as the sun was sloping toward the western horizon, staining the November sky that familiar shade of crimson that had brought them together. He sat up rubbing his eyes, smearing black ink from the copy of the Prophet he had fallen asleep with across his cheek.
"We can make photos move, yet we can't make ink that stays on the damn paper. Figures." The words were spoken by a voice that sounded even more tired than it had earlier in the day before it had indulged in sleep. The voice that spoke wasn't just tired, it was heartbroken and strained from crying. The owner of the voice got to his feet, wincing at the stiffness that tugged at his back and shoulder muscles. He crumpled the soggy, torn remains of that morning's paper and dropped it into the wastebasket he kept under his desk. He stared at it a moment with bloodshot amber eyes before covering it with paper that had been tossed earlier and leaving the room.
Remus felt confident that he had regained control of himself, that he had formulated a plan of action. All during his fretful sleep, yes. He wouldn't do anything until he made contact with Dumbledore. He wouldn't jump to conclusions, and most importantly, he would not panic.
This was all fine and well until he walked into the kitchen after a strenuous attempt to remove the ink from his hands and face. There on the scrub worn table was the Evening Prophet, the headline read:
Black Set for Life in Azkaban
The color brought to Remus' face by the scrubbing off the ink quickly drained. He hurried to pick up the paper and read the new article.
“Sirius Black, arrested early this morning for the murder of thirteen Muggles and the wizard Peter Pettigrew, after being denied his request for questioning under Veritaserum confessed to being responsible for the deaths. He was sentenced to life in Azkaban by the Ministry of Magic, who think this could be a turning point in the decline of violence in relation to You-Know-Who’s followers.
Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge had this to say, ‘…this arrest is a great victory. We have reason to believe that Black was one of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’s inner circle. With his capture we will no doubt be able to take many more high ranking Death Eaters into custody.”
There was more to the article, all about the Ministry’s stance on Death Eaters and the urgency in which they were rounding them up. Remus finished scanning the rest just as an owl swooped through the open window carrying a short note from Dumbledore. It asked that Remus floo into the headmaster’s office for they had something of great importance to discuss.
With a quick check in the mirror to be sure he wasn’t looking too severely bedraggled, Remus made his way to the cold hearth. He stared a fire, tossed the emerald dust on the flames and walked in.
When he stumbled out of the fireplace in Dumbledore’s office he was surprised to find the wizard who always seemed so undefeatable sitting at his desk with signs of weariness showing in the bent way he was holding himself. There was a silence for a moment as Dumbledore stared at Remus, who was lost in thought. Thoughts of Sirius, of the man he had thought he was. Nothing made any sense anymore, but then a glimmer of hope entered his mind.
“What if he’s been under the Imperious curse this whole time?” Remus didn’t mean to say it aloud. He had even promised himself that he wouldn’t bring up Sirius, that he’d let Dumbledore say what he’d asked him there for, but with the lack of restful sleep his usual careful, guarded self-control wasn’t functioning.
“Remus, the Ministry thinks that considering his family and the fact that he was well known for being able to fight the curse-“
Remus cut him off, “Sir, if I wanted the Ministry’s thoughts on the matter I could read the newspaper… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to sound like that.”
“Well I have to apologize as well. I hadn’t intended to mention the Ministry. I asked you here to see to what questions you may have as well as your emotional state at this point,” Dumbledore answered straightening up and looking more alert.
“Today’s edition of the Evening Prophet cleared up any questions I head earlier other than where you took Harry. As for me, I’m fine.” Remus was calm, determined not to make a scene there in the office.
Dumbledore fixed him with a knowing look. “Remus J. Lupin, it is perfectly normal for you to be a little more than emotionally off balance at a time like this.” At the steady look from Remus he moved onto the other point that had been made. “I arranged for Harry to live with his mother’s sister.”
“But they’re Muggles,” Remus interjected.
“Yes, and it is the safest place for him. They are his blood.” Remus did not argue. He wasn’t Harry’s godfather, and even if he was, Dumbledore was right, blood was a powerful bond and guardian. “Now there is another matter I wanted to discuss,” Dumbledore paused until Remus gestured for him to continue, “With the Ministry taking up the Death Eater hunt there has been talk amongst Order members about scaling back, and they will be allowed to leave retiring from their duties.”
Remus was wondering where this was going, but chose not to voice his thoughts just yet. Years of experience had taught him that the Professor would make his point in good time.
“Remus, the question is weather or not you want to stay on, watching for any signs of trouble. Not as officially as the past few years, and it will definitely not be so time consuming.”
There was silence for a moment before Remus asked, “Can I have some time to think it over?”
“By all means.”
Another brief silence ended in another request, “Would anyone mind terribly if I were to wander the old corridors a bit?”
“I can’t see why not,” Dumbledore replied, with a rather forced smile. Remus nodded in thanks as he got to his feet and made his way to the door.
The long hallway was silent and deserted. A special holiday had been declared on Voldemort’s defeat and almost all of the student population was gone, at home celebrating with family. Occasionally a student could cross his path, but words were never brought into the matter. Remus would quietly skirt around them either out in the middle of the walkway or close by the wall.
He had walked two floors and was starting down the stairs to the entrance hall when he met Snape, the newly hired Potions Master and the longtime enemy of Remus and his old friends. Remus was the first to notice the other, and he stopped on the fourth step down as memories connected to Snape and a million pranks were rudely prodded.
“Lupin.”
“Snape.”
“Black in Azkaban. Always knew it would happen, though I never fathomed it would be for getting his snog partner killed,” Snape said crossing his arms over his chest.
“Snape, I’ll have you know, you’re treading on dangerous ground,” Remus said through gritted teeth.
“Oh, were you fucking him too then?”
Remus was down the stairs separating them in an instant, his body begging to do something violent, but his brain overrode everything else just as he raised his fist. It would do no good to pound Snape into the marble. Doing so would change nothing, or rather, it would change things, but none for the better. He deflated, dropping his arm to his side. “Shut up, Snape.”
“Ah, I seem to have hit a nerve.” The words were practically hissed, and the warm breath that bore them set Remus’ hair to swaying. “Sirius Black got what he deserved. Well, deserved most of things he got, anyway.” The look Snape gave him seemed strangely meaningful, but Remus brushed it off. He also retreated a step; he was suddenly feeling even less comfortable being in such close proximity to Severus Snape.
There was a terse moment of silence. “I have to see the headmaster,” Snape declared at last breaking the silence.
As Snape walked past Remus turned and said, “Could you tell him I’ll owl my decision some time this week?”
The dark hared man looked down at Remus a moment, for sure contemplating whether it was worth his time. Then, much to Remus’ surprise, he nodded, “Yes, all right.” With a swish of black fabric Snape disappeared at the top of the staircase.
Remus sighed, and walked out onto the grounds.