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 Posted: Tue Nov 11, 2008 9:37 pm
Entries are closed in this contest, and we have our winner! You are always welcome to post comments. --LHH Nov-Dec 2008 Haven FanFiction Contest!  Theme
Remus Lupin! 
Picture by Kristin Bergh picture by wycked of deviantart.com5 points to every one who enters, with an additional 10 points to the winner!
Grand Prize for this Contest:
Choice of one:
Panda Plushie
OR
Wizard's Wand
OR
Pora Ice-3rd gen (fully unlocked)
OR
5000 gold
RulesYour story must fit with the Gaia TOS and involve one or more characters from the Harry Potter universe.
Original stories that you wrote yourself as well as "found" fictions are welcome! (Hint: Haven's Index sticky in the main Forum has links to some great Fan Fiction sites ).
If you are posting part of a longer story (perhaps one with chapters), be sure that what you post stands alone as a story, in other words it's a complete story in itself whether you read more or not. Please don't post anything freakishly long.
1. Send 100 g entry fee in a trade to AccioFunds, Haven's mule.
2. Owl (PM) Accio Funds with the following information:
Your name
Name of Story
Which House you are in.
3. Post your FanFic in this thread yourself after paying the entry fee.
Post the story, not just a link to where you found it. You can post a picture(s) with it. Be sure to say where you found the picture, and name the artist or copyright holder if possible.
Include in your post in this thread:
Your name
The name of the FanFic.
Which House you are in.
Did you write it? If yes, put: Original Story.
If you didn't write it, be sure to put the author's name and the link to where you found it
You may write some comments before the story if you wish.
One entry per member per month.
Keep in mind:
Spelling and grammar will count, so please spell-check and/or have someone beta read your story. Even if you didn't write it --please fix/correct spelling and grammar if the story needs it.
Keep everything PG-13. You are allowed to tweak a found fiction if you think the story needs it. Be sure to note that you edited the story, if you do so.
If you submit a story you wrote, say so. You get extra credit towards your score. How Stories Win at Haven:4 Prefect Points (if a prefect enters the contest, they don't owl in a vote, but may vote in the poll)
4 Points -one from each Head of House
5 Points to the Winner of the Popular Vote
3 Points to the Second Place Popular Vote winner
2 Points if it's an Original Story (You wrote it)
-1 point for any spelling, chatspeak or grammar errors.
15 Points possible maximum; in case of a tie, we will have a random number draw in order of submission.TimeTableWe are accepting NOW until December 13th, midnight PST
Voting begins December 14th, ends December 20th
Winner for this FanFic contest will be announced
on or about December 20th. Fan Fiction contest Theme for next contest:
Magical Creatures and Fantastic Beasts!   picture byAbbygirl114   
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Posted: Thu Nov 13, 2008 6:38 am
Name: gina787
House: Ravenclaw
Title: Falling Through the Looking Glass
Author: trainlindz
Link: Falling Through the Looking GlassEvery time Remus and Tonks had this conversation in his head, it went exponentially better then what was happening at the moment. In his time away, he had dreamed of their reconciliation endlessly. In his head, he was able to form sentences, complete with nouns and verbs and perhaps even some adjectives thrown in for good measure. He would wrap his arms around her, hold her tightly and tell her everything he had thought about while he was skulking around the werewolf pack. How he was sorry; How he was never going to let go; How he loved her. She’d return his embrace and he would sweep her into a passionate kiss, healing all the wounds he had inflicted on her. Never in his fantasies was he standing in Dumbledore’s majestic office surrounded by shards of glass, completely unsure of what to do next. For hours they had been sifting through Dumbledore’s possessions, searching for helpful information, any information, really, for the Order, but nothing was coming to a head. He could feel Tonks’ eyes on him as he sorted through the piles of paper on the desk for what must have been the third time, trying to find some sort of hint amongst the unimportant school files, and he looked up to meet her gaze, surprised when he found that he didn’t recognize the person staring back at him. When he had left her, Tonks was full of life and sparkling; this woman looked defeated and upset. Colorless. Do you even love me anymore, Remus? Words slipped out before he could stop them. The crashing sound was immediate. Tonks had thrown a foe glass at him and it shattered into hundreds of tiny pieces at his feet. “You don’t know? How can you possibly not know? It’s a yes or no answer, Remus.” Her voice was lower then he would have expected, not matching the fury of her actions. The quiet disappointment of her words filled the room. She had caught him completely off guard. He knew that it was only a matter of time before they would have had this talk, especially after what had transpired earlier in the hospital wing. The discussion would be about their future, and if they even had the chance at one. He wouldn’t be surprised if he had ruined any chance they had. I don’t know. His answer hadn’t matched her question. He did love her and both of them knew it. Or at least Tonks used to know. The damage between them had been caused by the months with the werewolf pack, and the way that he had acted was showing its teeth. She didn’t know what he felt now, unable to read him as she once was able to. Had they become strangers? The world around them had just imploded. Dumbledore was dead. Snape was evil. Bill had been ravaged. The secret war was now out in the open. So much had changed so quickly, yet one simple thing remained the same. It always did. “I do love you, Nymphadora.” he said gently, edging closer, his feet narrowing the gap between them slowly. For the past ten months apart, he had thought of very little else. Surely, he had focused on the tasks at hand, spying and relaying information for the Order back to Mad Eye, keeping tabs on Greyback, but she was his default mind setting, filling his heart and body in the cold that surrounded him, keeping him company in the dark. Just thinking about her made him feel less alone and more alone all in the same moment, and that everything he was doing was truly worth it. He had reached her spot and took her hand in his, rubbing the back of it with his thumb lightly. “I just don’t know if love is enough anymore.” She averted her eyes and walked away from him, breaking the connection of their hands. Tonks stood before a cupboard that had somehow been ignored thus far in their scavenging of the office, unlocking it with a flick of her wand. Opening the aged cabinet behind the desk, she pulled out a large stone basin and placed it in front of her onto the cluttered old mahogany table. Dumbledore’s pensieve. Remus watched as one by one she began to pull the glistening strands of memories from her head and guide them into the device effortlessly with her wand. After the fourth transfer, she murmured as she moved back away from the table. “I need you to see something.” Remus nodded his head minutely and stepped up to the bowl, seeing the memories floating around the interior. As he leaned in to dive into the thoughts, his eyes locked on Tonks’ but he couldn’t place her expression. She looked hopeful and infuriated at the same time, contradicting herself at every turn. “Maybe you can make up your mind about love while you are in there.” He sighed and pushed himself into the pooling memories. *** Remus always found it odd to be watching a memory that he was already a participant in. The whole idea of two Remus’ being in the room always made him feel slightly put out, that he was on the wrong end of a mirror, simply able to observe and mimic, but never partake. What was the point of re-watching something he could already see in his own mind? The long table that filled the room was surrounded by Order members, all debating amongst themselves. Dumbledore was planning on having Harry extracted from the Dursley's after weeks of solitary confinement and had opened up the floor to discussion, citing that 12 brains were better than one, and was now sitting back with a small grin on his face, eyes twinkling. Remus found himself smiling sadly at the scene before him. The whispered words caught his attention just as they had the first time around. “Are they always like this?” Tonks’ was sitting to Remus’ left, and was trying to keep her voice as quiet as possible and still be heard through the din. Remus watched himself turn to face Tonks. It was her first meeting and had kept quiet thus far, obviously feeling that as a newcomer she was more of an observer then participant in the debate. She was soaking it all in, and Remus was pleased to see that she didn’t appear to be overwhelmed, as he had been at his first meeting years before. Perhaps her work as an Auror had prepared her better then he had expected He smiled and whispered back, “Usually Sirius would have tried to hex Severus by now, but yes, this is generally how the Order operates.” As the words came out of his mouth, Sirius drew his wand and sent a jinx across the table only to be deflected by Snape, shattering a picture on the wall as it rebounded. “Ahh, there we go.” He smirked at Tonks, “Business as usual.” “Why is this such a huge issue?” “Harry’s aunt and uncle are exceptionally anti-wizard so simply going over to collect him won’t work out that well, and we can’t really arrange for him to be dropped off somewhere now that Voldemort is active again, as it isn’t safe. We just need to work out the kinks on how to do it.” Remus grinned to himself and raised his eyebrows at Tonks, “Although I do think that we are going overboard if we listen to Hagrid’s suggestion of riding Thestrals while disillusioned to kidnap him at half two on a Thursday night. I rather think Harry might fight us in that case. I don’t think he’ll fancy being surprised by strange wizards during the night.” “Why don’t they try something easier? Just get the muggles out of the house and go in and get him? We could even ring the doorbell so he won’t attack us on sight.” Remus had always laughed when people actually made the claim that the most obvious answer was usually the right one, but he couldn't help but think that this was quite possibly the best suggestion he had ever heard. Who would expect wizards to walk in the front door? Especially if they were wizards Harry knew… “I think you might have the right idea, Nymphadora. We’ll let them fight over this awhile longer, and then we can work out the logistics with Mad Eye. Not too bad for your first day on the job.” He reached out and picked up his glass, tipping it in her direction. At his words, Tonks positively glowed. At the time, Remus had thought that it was because she was embarrassed by his praise, but this time he followed the direction of her eyes. He had brushed her hand with his own while reaching for his tumbler, and she was grinning to herself. “Thanks. Oh, and Remus?” Her eyes left her hand to meet his, “Don’t call me Nymphadora.” Something as small as an accidental touch had made her smile. He had forgotten how much he missed seeing it. *** The scene quickly changed into the next and Remus was able to see that he was in Tonks’ flat, surrounded by the brightly colored walls and overstuffed furniture, and it could have been on any number of occasions but the pressure that filled the room, even in the memory, made it instantly obviously which occasion this was. All the words had already been said. He was leaving to go underground with the wolves, and nothing she had said would convince him otherwise. It was where he needed to be, where he would be able to help the Order the most. The first time that Remus being a werewolf could be useful. He could see himself standing at the door, threadbare coat hanging off his shoulders, hand already on the knob, but remembering the feeling he had had, finding it difficult to actually twist it and walk away. He could still remember what Tonks’ face had looked like, as she sat still on the couch, it had been ingrained into his memory. Seeing it for a second time didn’t lessen the ache. She had been tear-free, but obviously broken. This time he was able to see himself, and wasn’t surprised that his entire appearance reflected what he had been feeling in this moment. Completely defeated. For a solid ten minutes they stared at each other, no words passing between them when he finally heard himself quietly clear his throat, whispering, “Goodbye, Tonks.” and somehow mustered the strength to turn the handle and walk out, door clicking as it shut behind him. The memory didn’t shift when he left as he expected it to. He remained in the vision, watching Tonks as she stared at the closed door, unmoving. He waited, unsure as to why the scene wasn’t moving on until he caught sight of Tonks’ hair. It was fading. When he had been at the door, it had been a light pink colour, but as the seconds ticked by, the longer he was gone, it faded into the mousy brown that it was in present time. Tonks didn’t even seem to be aware of the change. He had drained everything she had left. *** Remus found himself standing knee deep in the snow when the next memory came into focus. He was in the middle of the street outside of Grimmauld Place on Boxing Day, watching himself and Tonks in the midst of a heated argument, voices slowly rising with each word. He flinched in anticipation as he knew what was coming, but couldn’t stop his past self. He hated this memory, at his lowest, months ago. Tonks had finally reached her breaking point and slapped him across the face. “How dare you decide what is best for me? Am I not smart enough to make my own decisions?” Remus was looking past her, trying to avoid her stare. “I’m trying to let you live your life. To go off, have a career, get married and have children. What a normal person does. What you can’t have if you are with me.” He shook his head vehemently, “I’m old, with no money, which is not a promising scenario for any woman. Not to mention that I’m a monster. A Dark Creature to the core.” Remus could see himself getting angry, bubbling with rage that had been looking for an outlet for weeks, and was silently urging himself as his own onlooker to find a different reaction than what was coming, knowing that it was about to be catastrophic. She grabbed him by the collar of his worn jacket and shook him violently, as if trying to rid him of the thought. “You aren’t like them, Remus.” A single tear rolled out of her eye, and he could see himself deliberately looking away from her face, past her into the darkness. “You’re better.” “But I am just like them. I’ve been hiding it for years; denying my true self.” He spat back, practically growling. He couldn’t believe that she was still shrugging it off as if it were nothing. He wasn’t normal, and he couldn’t give her a normal life. He was just like the rest of the pack. He simply couldn’t outrun it any longer. “Remus Lupin wasn’t born a werewolf! It’s an infection at worst! Having a condition doesn’t define who you are!” He snapped, losing hold on any rationality that he had been clinging to. “Doesn’t it?” His demeanor changed completely and he pushed her roughly up against the wall behind them, trapping her. His hand grabbed her chin, holding it into place, forcing her to look at his furious face. Remus winced watching the scene as he heard Tonks’ head thud against the brick. “Would a good man treat you this way? Able to watch your tears fall, and continuously hurt you, time and time again?” He grabbed her suddenly, lips crashing into hers, his hands grabbing her hair, pulling himself closer to her. As fast as it had started he ripped his lips away, breathing heavily. “Would someone who was good for you act like this? Treat you like a child’s toy? A possession that can be used for his own pleasures, no matter how it is for you? We take what we want, and when we are done with them, we toss them aside.” He let go of her suddenly and walked away, immediately ashamed. “That’s all a werewolf will ever do, transformed or not.” The pressure of everything that had happened over the past months had been building, the conflicted thoughts of self, everything shot out. He wasn’t angry with her, but she was the only one there for him to take it out on. “Leave, Tonks.” He kept his back to her. How could he even look at her after the way he had acted? This time, Remus watched as Tonks walked away from him, slowly down the snow covered street, feet slipping slightly beneath her. She stopped and turned to face him, staring at his back, tears pouring from her face. He barely heard her words, only recognizing them as he watched her lips move. “Goodbye, Remus.” She spun around to disapparate and the memory turned black. *** The last image swirled into view and Remus found himself to be surrounded by a frenzy of action. This memory was earlier in the present night, in the heat of the battle itself. He saw himself alongside Bill and Tonks, with Ron, Neville, and Ginny close behind surrounded by Death Eaters at the bottom of the stairs to the Astronomy Tower. Remus watched helplessly as he saw Gibbon race up the stairs to set off the Dark Mark, wanting to tell his past self to intervene and stop him in some way. This time through the battle he was safe, able to watch what was happening to the others around him. Curses were flying left and right. Working as a team, Ron and Neville had formed some sort of barrier around Ginny, acting defensively while Ginny was shooting offensive curses around them at the Death Eaters. Bill was fighting on the left, trying to hold back Greyback as he circled nearer to him, jaws snapping, fighting more like an animal than a man. Then there was Tonks dueling, evenly matched with Dolohov, until he got lucky and disarmed her, wand flying through the air and clattering on the floor behind them. Remus watched horrified as Dolohov laughed at her panic. “Don’t worry, child. I’m not going to kill you. I’m leaving you for your dear Aunt Bellatrix. She really wishes to see to you herself.” Dolohov’s smile widened, “However, I do plan on causing significant damage to the Order tonight.” Dolohov spun around, and his wand lined up with Remus, who was battling with both the Carrows, fiercely concentrating on the duel. “Will you miss the werewolf, half-blooded Black?” Remus could see Tonks’ eyes widen with fear, her jaw clenching tight, as she saw Dolohov raise his arm towards the preoccupied Remus. “Avada Kedevra!” Tonks threw herself at Dolohov, tackling him at the waist, knocking him off balance as the spell left his wand. The glowing green curse hurtled towards Remus, missing him by mere inches and hitting Gibbons as he rushed back down the stairs, making him crumble to the floor instantly. Dead. Tonks had saved his life. He had treated her atrociously the last time he had seen her, at Christmas, and she had saved him. After the way he had acted in the previous memory, he wouldn’t have saved himself if he were her. Remus watched her now, as she retrieved her wand and was once again dueling with Dolohov. Her eyes flickered between her opponent and the battle he was having with the Carrows’, when suddenly Snape rushed past them all and up the stairs to the tower, and everything faded to black. *** His vision spun quickly, and he closed his eyes as he felt it come to a complete stop. He was out of the penseive, but kept his eyes closed tight. He heard her step up beside him, and rejoin their hands, entwining their fingers together. Squeezing his, she spoke softly, “I couldn’t let him take you from me. Not when I had just got you back.” He turned towards her and wrapped her tightly into his arms, making a silent promise to himself that he was never going to let her go. Pressing his face into her hair he murmured, “I’m sorry, Dora. I’m so, so sorry.” “I love you. More than anything. Don’t you see? I love you so much that I was willing to let you go. Let you be happy, move on with your life.” He tucked his fingers gently under her chin and slowly lifted upwards so that they could face each other. “I’ll make myself miserable so that you can have everything you deserve and I can’t offer.” “Can’t you see? Without you, I’m miserable.” Her eyes were glistening with unshed tears and he couldn’t resist running his hands through her short brown locks, not able to hold onto her enough. “Then we’ll be not miserable together.” He felt her warmth as she rested her head against his chest, but the feeling of dread didn’t leave him. She hadn’t responded. After all that he had put her through; the pain, the strife… would she even still want him? Then he saw it out of the corner of his eye. Pink. Casting his eyes down, her could see her hair and it was like watching what he had seen the pensieve in reverse. The brown was slowly retreating and her true self was beginning to shine through once more. Bending his head slightly, he brought his lips down to the top of her head, placing them lightly in her hair, feeling her wrapping her arms around him tighter in response, hearing her whisper the three most wonderful words. How could he have ever thought that love wouldn’t be enough?
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Posted: Thu Nov 13, 2008 8:15 pm
 More Than a MemoryAn original story by Cy Black of Gryffindor PG-13  Sim created and photographed by Cy BlackDisclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling and I sadly do not own Sirius, Remus or Harry. The original song "More Than a Memory" belongs to Garth Brooks, and I only take credit for changing it to fit Remus' drunken mind. Remus watched as jet of red light flew past him and Harry and hit Sirius square in the chest. Remus watched as Sirius' body curved in a graceful arch, except it shouldn't have been so graceful, and he sank backwards towards the veil, a veil Remus knew was only full of death. He stared at Sirius' face, taking one last look into his once beautiful grey eyes. The grey eyes that always twinkled with mischief and lit up even more when he saw Remus. Memories flooded through Remus' mind as he looked at Sirius. Even as he died Remus had to admit, he died looking the best he could, his body still perfectly preserved. But his face...normally full of smiles and laughter looked almost hideous with that look of fear and surprise. Then he was gone. It took all Remus had in him to not commit suicide. As much as he would have loved to die side by side with the only man he'd ever loved, he knew Sirius wouldn't want him to. Sirius had always told him, "If anything should ever happen to me, you're Harry's godfather. I trust you'll watch over him and help him all you can." and Remus would nod, but he refused to believe anything could ever happen to Sirius. Bellatrix laughed, a laugh that snapped Remus' out of his memories to glare. Harry-the last piece he had of James and Sirius-was all he could think about to stop the tears from flooding down his cheeks, this was no place to cry.
"SIRIUS!" Harry yelled, "SIRIUS!"
By the tone in the young boy's voice, he could tell Harry had hoped as much as Remus had that Sirius would reappear on the other side and kill Bellatrix. But Sirius did not reappear, Remus' knew he wouldn't and he wished Harry would stop trying to find him. Harry was on the ground at the dais, gasping for breath. Harry seemed to be attempting to reach in and pull Sirius out, but just as he was about to try, Remus sprinted over and pulled Harry away. He couldn't let anything happen to him.
"There's nothing you can do Harry-"
"Get him, save him, he's only just gone through!"Remus awoke and blindly reached across the bed, he lied a hand in the spot where Sirius would normally sleep when over his house only to find he wasn't there. He hasn't been there, not in awhile. Remus had nobody to hold him after his nightmares, nobody to run alongside him and protect him when he became the wolf, he had nobody who loved him for all that he was. Remus held back the tears and decided it'd be another long night at the bar. The bar was a place Remus would normally never go, but ever since Sirius' death he just couldn't help himself. He needed to be somewhere, somewhere far away from his house. He headed to the muggle bar where he has been known as a regular since that night. Without even realizing it he'd arrived and already gotten a drink. Then a song began to play, a song that made Remus cry. He listened closely, and changed words in his head just so it could be about Sirius and let his thoughts mingle with the lyrics. People say he's only in my head Don't I wishIt's gonna take time but I'll forget No...neverThey say I need to get on with my life Do I even have one anymore?They don't realize Nobody does...When you're dialing 6 numbers just to hang up the phone Harry always gets suspicious when I call Grimmauld PlaceDriving across town just to see if he's home Driving from town to town actually...I wish we had gotten a chance to move in togetherWaking a friend in the dead of the night Just to hear her say it's gonna be alright Yeah...thank God for TonksWhen you're finding things to do not fall asleep 'Cause know he'll be there in your dreams You always have been babe...but now they're nightmaresThat's when he's more than a memory Definitely...Took a match to everything he ever wrote Watched his words go up in smoke And I regret it everydayTore all his pictures off the wall And that tooThat ain't helping me at all How could it?'Cause when you're talking out loud but nobody's there I'm always hoping you'll hear me thoughYou look like Hell and you just don't care Haven't looked like Hell since you walked into my life...but it's my style againDrinking more than you ever drank That's why I'm hereSinking down lower than you ever sank Damn, Siri it's the truthWhen you find yourself falling down upon your knees Praying to god, begging him "please" Every nightThat's when he's more than a memory He's more He's more Ain't that the truth.'Cause when you're dialing his number just hang up the phone Sadly...it's mostly because Kreacher is mad I ever installed itDriving across town just to see if he's home I wish we could of lived togetherWaking a friend in the dead of night Just to hear her say it's gonna be alright and without her, I'd prolly be up there with you babeWhen you're finding things to do not to fall asleep 'Cause you know he's waiting in your dreams I only wish they could be sweet dreams againThat's when he's more than a memory and you always will be...People say he's only in my head Honestly...I wishIt's gonna take time but I'll forget No...I can never forget you...we promised even if we were forced to forget...we'd remain in each other's hearts...and you Siri, you dominate mine. It's always been yours, and it still is. You took it with you when you died.The tears welled up in Remus' eyes and the bartender put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. "Should I turn off the radio, lad? It always gets to you...don't think I haven't noticed." "No...just pass me another drink, please?" "I must ask...is this what he would have wanted?" The man said as he passed Remus another whisky. "No...he would have wanted me home, watching over hi-" Remus paused "Watching over our godson...but I can't take looking at his face, Gary. It's horrible, I know...but he just reminds me of Sirius too much. The poor boy must feel even worse, I prolly make him feel like it's all his fault." Gary sighed, "Well, you're always welcome here, it's my job to provide a place for escape...I just wish I'd see less of you, lad. You're here almost every night, sad and crying, drinking half my whisky and when you leave just before the sun rises, I can't help but feel sorry for you." Remus just nodded, he looked down and let his long, tawny hair fall into his eyes so the man wouldn't see him crying. Then he said, "I can't help it...I promised him I wouldn't let him go." The bartender lowered his head knowing that promises like that can never be kept. Hanging onto the chimney with all his might, Sirius wished he hadn't decided to hang Christmas lights up the old fashioned way just to prove to Remus he wasn't a lazy a** who relied on magic for everything. Now he looked down at the ground 2 stories below him and hung on for dear life. Then Remus appeared, going against his fear of brooms and landing it right next to Sirius. He grabbed his hand to pull him back up and said, "I got you, I won't let go." When they were safely on the ground again Remus apologized, then he held Sirius close to his chest and whispered "I promise, I'll never let you go."Remus mumbled under his breath, "Never..." and stood up to leave, the sun would be rising soon. *~SiriusxRemus forever~*
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Posted: Wed Nov 26, 2008 6:33 am
Minerva the Bookwyrm
of Gryffindor
Presents an original story Note: I'm a Brit, so I use British spelling. I decided to submit the first chapter of a fic I've written that contains my favourite pairing and has my usual splash of comedy in it. We all need some humour in our lives! I'm not submitting the entire work because:
a) It's too long.
b) It contains scenes that violate Gaia's ToS.
c) It isn't necessary given the theme of the contest. This chapter successfully shows how I view the inner-mechanics of Remus' teenage brain, how he treats people he's close to, and how he interacts with the world in general. “You two got another detention?” I am astounded, though I realise that I should not be. “Yeah.” James shrugs, unconcerned, and flops onto the nearest common room settee. He calls across the expanse of lush carpet, “Hey, Evans, if you come up to the Astronomy Tower with me tonight you can –” “Shove you off?” she retorts hopefully, not looking up from her the long roll of parchment on which her assignment is written. James and I both shake our heads. James because he is attempting to pretend her perpetual rejections do not bruise his ego; me because I know he is going about his pursuit of the studious redhead improperly. Not that I have a right to be judgmental since James, not me, is responsible for the success of my own love life. “What’s the detention for?” As opposed to my appalled reaction, Peter sounds impressed. He’s keen to hear about the adventure instead of unsuccessfully attempting to copy my essay. I never hesitate to assist with my comrades’ assignments as long as they request it, but I have a problem with them merely copying because it fails to prove that they have learned anything. “Jynxing Snape.” Sirius is much more interested in his task of bodily lifting me from the squashy armchair, sitting down, and placing me on his lap than answering Peter’s question. “Again?” I put forth my best efforts to ignore the stares Sirius and I are receiving by shifting my focus to James. “What did he do to you this time?” Sometimes, they pick on Snape without provocation, however, he often randomly uses one of his formidable Dark hexes on James in the corridors. Despite the fact that I disapprove of their fighting, I do not expect my friends to endure such treatment without retaliating. “Not me.” James takes out his scroll of Quidditch plays to work on since he’s captain this year. I admire how James applies one hundred percent of himself to everything that he does. Even if the impressive will power is also exploited by mischief making, such dedication is rare and irreplaceable in a friend. “He said stuff to Sirius it’s not his business to know about.” “Oh.” The mild annoyance I originally felt about the situation immediately dissipates. My head tilts upwards to regard the boy whose lap I occupy. “About your family?” “No.” Sirius’ hot breath tickles my ear as he whispers, “He called me a werewolf’s b***h.” Anytime Snape makes allusions to my condition Sirius loses his temper because it was his fault that Snape found out. I’ve forgiven Sirius, though Sirius has yet to forgive himself. “Dunno why Old Sluggie was annoyed when he found out what we’d done to him. It was no worse than if Snivelly passed out from dehydration.” I regard him doubtfully. “Dehydration?” “It’s when someone gets really thirsty,” he explains wisely. “Thanks for clearing that up for me,” I say sarcastically before continuing quietly, “You shouldn’t sink to a level that’s beneath you for my sake.” “Who said anything about you? It was an insult about my masculinity.” He grins to lighten the mood. Sirius never feels comfortable acting…serious. A comedic, carefree nature is the defense mechanism he developed to survive his prejudice relatives. “Everyone knows you’re my b***h, not the other way around.” “Actually, everyone doesn’t know, and I’d prefer to keep it that way.” I extract myself from my boyfriend. For the benefit of the onlookers, I pleasantly remark in a normal volume, which admittedly is not much louder, “You know, Sirius, if you wanted my chair all you had to do was ask.” The other students chortle while I reseat adjacent to James. “How do you plan on finishing your homework if you have more punishments?” “We don’t.” James and Sirius’ synchronised speech causes the eyes of the room’s occupants to widen and then chatter amongst themselves about the ‘weird connection’ the Marauders share. I am too accustomed to their habit to have a reaction. In all honesty, I’m calm most of the time. I despise losing mastery of my actions when I become the wolf, thus self-control during my time in human form is immensely significant. The only person that has ever shattered my composure more than once is Sirius. He can do it whenever he wishes if he tries. It terrifies me, but somehow I can’t get enough of it. The aspect that it’s addictive makes it even more frightening. I am certain that Sirius could stop being around me at any moment if he wanted to. Peter warns, “McGonagall’s gonna kill you for being punished again.” “Nah, Minnie loves us.” James assures, winking behind his thick spectacle lenses. “Maybe, but she’ll still be disappointed, and I don’t blame her.” The three of them exchange that look they give when I go into what they refer to as ‘Lecture Mode.’ “I bet you couldn’t go two weeks without being reprehensible for an abhorrence.” “Repre-what-able? Ab-whore-ants?” James stares at me with fond exasperation. “Bloody hell, did you swallow a dictionary?” I open my mouth to utter as witty a comeback as I can muster, though Sirius licks his lips and answers James first. “Someday I plan on having sweet, innocent Remy swallow something more interesting than a dictionary.” I am convinced my face shall create flames. Honestly, how could my skin be so hot and NOT catch fire? That would be the best ending to a pre-transformation day, wouldn’t it? I’m sure Merlin would think so. After all, I don’t have enough problems. Of course not. Gay teenage werewolves have the easiest, most dull lives in this day and age, don’t they? I know! Why not spice it up by having my head randomly combust from embarrassment in the middle of the common room? Gratitude fills me when James speaks again so I don’t have to concoct an adequate comment to follow Sirius’ remark. “Not a mental image I need before dinner, Padfoot. Anyway, if his posh words mean I’d have to go half a month without having fun he’d win that wager.” “Speak for yourself, Prongs.” The face that Sirius turns to me is somewhat peculiar. “What’re the stakes?” Mercifully, the blush recedes and my voice sounds tranquil. “I wasn’t really betting. It’s a figure of speech.” Sirius wags his finger petulantly. “Oh, no, Mr. Moony. You offered and I’m taking you up on it.” This is ridiculous. I ought to be considering my upcoming O.W.L.s not a pointless gambol. I return to my essay and say indifferently, “Doesn’t matter. Whatever you want.” “Whatever I want? Okay, I accept.” Without visual evidence I deduce the devious smirk Sirius is sporting. “Wait! What?” My gaze snaps up from the parchment to Sirius. My instincts tell me that something very, very drastic just occurred, and if I had been more heedful of the conversation I could have prevented it. James chimes in, “You did say it, mate. Padfoot took advantage of you fair and square.” He observes me with parent-to-offspring pity for a vulnerable child in over his head, and Sirius with man-to-man pride for a bloke who drove home the prettiest woman at a party home and got more than a goodnight kiss as a reward. A nervous knot twists in my stomach. “What exactly did you decide the stakes were?” “Whatever the winner, which’ll be me, wants. The loser has to be the other’s obedient slave for a day.” This sounds foreboding, and I’m not comforted by the term ‘slave’ or the predatory inflection in Sirius’ dark eyes. I stare into the fire and imagine the possible results of this. “I wish this bet never happened,” I mutter. “Why’re you telling the fire? How’s it supposed to help?” Peter asks. “Make your wishes on stars.” In mock indignation, Sirius cuffs the back of Peter’s head. “I’m the only star he’ll be doing anything on!” That’s what I’m worried about.
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Minerva the Bookwyrm Crew
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Posted: Thu Nov 27, 2008 5:50 pm
Name: Matelia legwll
House: Ravenclaw
Original Story
Link: Remus’s Rabbit
Disclaimer: I don't own the Potterverse, Jo does. Picture from www.freefoto.com
Note: This is an original story. The link is to where I posted it on Fanfiction.net. If you want to tell me what you thought on that website instead of this one, I do accept anonymous reviews, so you don't have to be a member to tell me what you thought.
Summary: Furry little problems and rabbits combine with chocolate and Transfigurations to make this an all-around fun one-shot about Remus.
Thanks for reading! Enjoy! Remus’s RabbitBy Matelia-legwll I chuckled to myself as I left the Burrow. A ‘normal’ Christmas indeed. Sometimes Harry reminded me so much of James, and I couldn’t express that thought enough to him. It was not just in looks, either, although that part is rather disconcerting. I recalled my words to him that had seemed to cheer him up momentarily, and the story behind them and chuckled once more. “Sometimes you remind me a lot of James. He called it my ‘furry little problem’ in company. Many people were under the impression that I owned a badly behaved rabbit.”It must have been our third year when I first heard James use that term to describe my lycanthropy. I was feeling rather depressed as the moon had waxed and would reach its full hideousness in less than four days. I was sitting in a corner of the Common Room, my head buried in a text, a serious expression on my face. No one dared approach me. No one that is, except James. “Remus? How are you this marvelous day?” he said. “Fine,” I said shortly. “What are you working on?” “Potions.” “Do you want to take a break? We could play some chess.” “No.” He was silent for a moment. I felt his eyes on me and turned to meet his gaze. He half-smiled and flung himself into a nearby armchair. The chair rocked, and actually scooted back a couple of inches before falling back into place. I turned back to glower at my book when James tried to start a conversation again. “Your furry little problem is getting you down, isn’t it, Remus?” “My what?” I straightened, confusion sweeping through me as I glanced toward him. He grinned. “You said more than one word,” he started to gloat. “My what?” I slowly repeated. Surely I had heard him wrong. Surely he wouldn’t choose such an obvious nickname for my condition. “Your furry little problem,” he announced, quite loudly, to my chagrin. Biscuits. Exactly what I thought he said. “Have some chocolate,” James said, holding out a bar of Honeydukes’ chocolate. How? How does he know? How in Merlin’s name does he know exactly what to say that will both cheer me up and leave me speechless? “Go on, take it.” Was he such a natural at friendship, or did he practice these lines? I tried to imagine James sitting around practicing lines to say to me, and a smile found its way to my face. There was absolutely no way that would happen. It must be natural. “I haven’t poisoned the chocolate, you know. Take it already. My arm’s getting tired,” he started to complain. I set my Potions book down on a side table, took the chocolate from him, and held it in my lap, looking down at the still wrapped chocolate. When did he figure out my weakness for the sweetest of desserts? I liked chocolate almost as much as I liked a nice juicy rare steak. “It works for dementor effects, it should work on cheering you up. Even with your furry little problem.” Was it just me, or were the last three words louder than any other words in that sentence? I winced. “Stop calling it that,” I requested, fingering the wrapper of the chocolate bar. “Why?” The matter-of-fact question took me aback for a moment. “Someone will hear,” I protested. “No one will guess right. No one ever does,” James reasoned. “You can’t know that,” I pointed out logically. “Wanna bet?” asked James in a whisper, leaning closer. I pursed my lips. If it was about anything other than my secret, I would bet with him, but I wouldn’t want to win that particular bet. I shook my head. James shrugged. Two weeks later, James mentioned the term in another conversation with me in the Common Room. This of course was during the time when the moon had faded, and almost disappeared in the new moon, so I was quite a bit more cheerful and was playing chess with James at the time. “So, your furry little problem isn’t acting up now, is it?” I rolled my eyes, looking up from the chess board. “Again with the name?” “What? It’s a good codename,” insisted James. “It’s little, and furry, and causes a bit of a problem at times. A furry little problem.” I laughed, and dropped the subject. James could call my lycanthropy whatever he wished. He never looked down on me for what I was. Although, when I started to get approached a couple of months later after the full moon, I began to wish that he had chosen a different term. “You shouldn’t worry so much about your rabbit, Remus. You’re looking dreadful. Get some sleep.” “Your rabbit will be just fine, it always is.” “You look like your rabbit just died. It’s still all right, isn’t it? Well, I mean, besides the obvious misbehavior.” “Rabbit giving you problems again? Just lock it in its cage for a day without any water. Clears up any lingering rebellions in those types of domestic animals.” I was confused by all these comments. Since when did I have a rabbit? And since when did everyone know about a rabbit that I never owned? The clincher came when Lily Evans approached me. I could no longer just accept these really mental comments. “Remus, have you considered the possibility of releasing your rabbit to the wild? It might be easier for both of you to just let go.” “Lily, from whom did you hear that I had a rabbit?” The question burst from me, without my consent. “Emmeline. Why?” Her green eyes bore into my face curiously. “Er, never mind.” I shook my head, and went off to find a certain girl by the name of Emmeline. I was going to get to the bottom of this ridiculous rumor. “Emmeline, from whom did you first hear that I had a rabbit?” “Marlene's the one that told me,” shrugged Emmeline. Time passed as I tried to track down how the rumor had passed from person to person. Finally catching up to the latest person, I huffed, “Mary, from whom did you hear that I had a rabbit?” “I actually heard it from Bertha. Bertha Jorkins.” Was there any other Bertha? I winced. Just lovely. The entire school knew the rumor if Bertha knew the rumor. Sighing, I went down to the Great Hall to try to find the gossip queen of Hufflepuff. “He was kissing Florence, I'm telling you. Florence,” she was emphasizing to a second-year Ravenclaw as I approached her table. “Bertha, from whom did you hear that I had a rabbit?” I interrupted. She turned around and turned her calculating gaze on me. I leaned onto the table; I was not about to back down for I had been looking for the originator of this rumor for over six hours. “From whom?” I repeated. “Frank Longbottom,” she said slowly, drawing out the name in an insolent tone. “Thank you,” I replied sarcastically. I turned around and went to find Frank. This was getting way too complicated. The sooner I found the culprit, or at least how this ridiculous rumor started, the happier I would be. “Hey, Frank!” I called as I found him on the sixth floor and caught up with him. “Hmm? Oh, hello, Remus.” “Hello. Let me get straight to the point, Frank. From whom did you first hear that I had a rabbit?” “Er, Bertha. She’s the first one that told me. How is it doing, by the way? Behaving now?” “It’s just fine,” I shook my head, feeling confused, “but Bertha just told me that she heard it from you.” His brow furrowed for a moment, then smoothed out. “Oh. She must have done that ‘protecting her sources’ thing she picked up from the Daily Prophet.” I felt so much frustration well up inside of me, that I let it out by slamming my hand onto the stone wall of the corridor we were in. When I turned back to Frank, he was looking at me, quite concerned. I understand why, of course. I rarely lost control like that. “Whatever is the matter?” I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose between my forefinger and my thumb. “Would you happen to know how the rabbit story got out? Why does everyone think that I have a rabbit?” “Don’t you?” he asked. I shrugged, and he continued, “Well, I think it was because James said—well, I overheard someone say (I don’t remember who it was now) that James said that you had a misbehaved rabbit. But all I heard James say were the words ‘furry little problem.’ So, I don’t know where they heard James say that it was a rabbit. Bertha Jorkins told me that she had verified proof that you had a badly behaved rabbit. I was trying to ignore her though, and so I didn’t ask for more information. Sorry about that, mate.” I shrugged and sighed again and started to mutter to myself. “The rumor chain at Hogwarts—quite exhausting. Oh well. Shan’t bother about it anymore. I had my—but it doesn’t matter. Hm. That’s one bet I would have lost, then. I’m glad of that.” “Glad about losing your bet?” Frank questioned, trying to follow what I was saying. “Yes,” I grinned. “That was one bet that I didn’t want to win.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw messy black hair suddenly vanish down a secret passageway. “Excuse me a moment,” I said to Frank as I turned to follow my friend through the winding passageway. I emerged, not yet caught up to James, into a passageway that led to Hogsmeade. If I was correct, I was just behind the mirror on the fourth floor. “Hello?” I called out. “James?” I looked around, starting to feel nervous. “Sirius?” I had been certain I was following James, but I couldn’t see where he had disappeared to. “Peter?” I called out, half-heartedly, as I pulled out my wand to better see into the corners of the passageway. I heard a couple of laughs that were quickly stifled. I sighed with relief. “James, Sirius, come out from under the cloak.” I turned around in place, trying to spot where they were hidden under the cloak. A slight ripple of disturbance in the corner of my right eye drew my attention. I turned towards it, focused, and nearly dropped my wand. Hopping slowly towards the light was a rabbit, no, two rabbits! A brown rabbit and a white rabbit. The brown one paused and wriggled its nose at me for a moment. The white one hopped forward until it was right by my left leg, and started nuzzling it. As I started to move backward in reaction to the nuzzling, I felt two hands clasp both of my shoulders and force me to remain still. “Don’t want to startle them now,” came Sirius’s voice from my left. “They might just start to misbehave if you do,” added James from my right. I rounded on him. “Your silly rumor—” was all I could get out before Sirius interrupted me. “Allowed us both the time and space to get you not one, but two animals for your very own.” James jumped in, “See, look at how they are warming up to you already.” “Soon you will have a veritable zoo at your command.” I was easily sidetracked by Sirius’s comment. “Zoo? But there’s just two rabbits.” “One is a male and one is a female,” declared James proudly. “Dunno which is which though,” he added as an afterthought. Sirius grinned. “Have you ever heard of how fast rabbits, you know, have little rabbit babies?” I gaped at the two idiots on either side of me then turned back to look at the rabbits. “Surely you were not stupid enough to get a male and a female, but even if you were,” I winced, “that still is just a whole lot of rabbits, not a zoo.” “Ah, we haven’t unveiled our greatest present yet, Sirius,” smirked James. “No we haven’t,” agreed Sirius. “Let me present, Sirius the Dog!” announced James, spinning me by my shoulders to face Sirius’s show of bowing and blowing kisses to an invisible audience. My jaw dropped and I said in a small voice, “You know? You already know what you’re going to be? Sirius, I can’t tell you—I’m speechless—Wow. Thanks. Thank you so much.” Both of them were beaming by the time I had finished talking. “He’s much too humble,” commented James. “You actually think that was the only present?” asked Sirius, somehow still sounding disappointed through his grin. I slowly nodded. Were they implying that there was something else? Sirius sighed and spun me around to face James. “I have the honor of presenting James the Deer,” said Sirius pompously. James bowed low, then took out his wand and held it like a trophy. “I would like to thank my Mum and Dad for always being there for me. To my best friend, Sirius: I couldn’t have done it without you, mate. And to my dearest friend, Remus, for giving me the reason and the discipline to achieve this highest of honors,” he said in a high, choked-up voice that was obviously faked, but still touched me just the same. He wiped away an invisible tear. “You too?” I whispered in shock. “You both know?” James sobered and both of them just stared at me. “Why d’you think we got you two rabbits?” asked James finally, crossing his arms. “Just for eating them on nights that you have your furry little problem?” I had burst into laughter as I realized yet again, with renewed relief, that these two very special boys were really my friends and really accepted me for what I was. A little over twenty years later I was still marveling over that same fact. I missed James and Sirius, it’s true. But I found laughter and solace and peace in my memories of them. Memories that were sparked by a very special sixteen-year-old boy that was James’s son, and Sirius’s godson. It was no wonder he reminded me of them. “Furry little problem,” indeed. I laughed again, happy once more.
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Posted: Sun Dec 14, 2008 8:03 am
Name: Lightkin House: RavenclawI didn't write this lovely fanfic. I found it on Moonshadow. Heartbreaking and heartwarming at the same time. URL: http://www.angelfire.com/oh4/selene/DADA.htmlThe Diary of Remus J. Lupin by Blaise
Imagine you are reading a diary that shows you the scenes as they are described in the text, rather like Tom Riddle’s in Chamber of Secrets.
~
A battered, leather-bound book lies on the table. You pick it up, flipping through the pages of neat handwriting, the full moons carefully marked in red. A page catches your eye and you stop. You read a few words, and a scene begins to materialize before you.
‘I went back to my lessons as soon as I could, hoping they would not realise where I had been. Or what I had been. I found that Severus Snape had been teaching my classes.’
~
‘Professor Lupin, do you want my werewolf essay?’ Hermione came up to the desk towards the end of the lesson, three rolls of parchment in her hand. ‘It’s a bit more than Professor Snape asked for … should I give it to him instead?’
Remus glanced at her with a tired smile. ‘No, that’s fine, leave it on the desk, please. What was the title again?’
‘The ways to recognise and kill werewolves.’ She gave him an uncertain smile.
Remus nodded slowly. ‘Well, I’ll have a word with him, I’ll let him know that you’ve done it.’
Hermione nodded. She looked at Remus piercingly for a moment, and he wondered what she was thinking. For a moment he thought she would say something more, but then she turned.
‘Thank you,’ he said automatically. Hermione went back to her seat, leaving Remus with three rolls of parchment on how to recognise and kill werewolves to add to his marking pile. Snape had left him with a great deal of work to catch up on, for he had set every class some work but had left it for Remus to take in and mark. Typically, he had set the third, fourth and fifth year classes essays about werewolves, with different titles but the same goal. Remus had already taught the fourth years about werewolves, though the words had stuck in his throat, and he knew how to put up with all the comments about them. Even so, he was going to have to speak to Snape about all this. But first, there was something else he had to do. The bell rang, and all the students began packing up their books.
‘Wait a moment, Harry, I'd like a word.’
~
‘Harry’s story filled me with so many mixed emotions. What he must feel when he sees a Dementor – it makes my troubles pale into nothing. I try not to think of Sirius, who must have found a way to fight them off. It is clear that Harry does not know who he is. That’s one thing to be grateful for.
‘Why does everything make me think of Sirius? It’s ridiculous. He’s a traitor, he’s my enemy, he’s trying to attack James’ son. Aren’t twelve years long enough for me to learn?’
~
After Harry had gone, Remus sank back at his desk. Fighting Dementors was exhausting and difficult, he wondered how Harry would cope with it. He shook his head slowly, recalling what Harry had said. Even he did not hear anything as terrible as that when he met with a Dementor.
He looked down at the papers on his desk wearily. Right now what he really wanted was to go and lie down for a long time, preferably until the moon waned some more. That didn’t seem to be an option. Perhaps he should read some of these essays before he went to Snape. Both activities were equally unappealing. He unrolled Hermione’s essay, wondering what she had thought.
As always, it was meticulously researched, and she had even managed to get some of the more complicated details correct, although even the textbooks were wrong on some counts. She’ll be Head Girl one day, he thought. He read through it. A paragraph stopped him.
Of course, an easy way to identify a werewolf in his human form is simply to pay attention to the phase of the moon and the suspect’s behaviour. Regardless of the use of the recent Wolfsbane Potion, a werewolf will never be seen in his human form around the time of the full moon. Furthermore, a side effect of the transformation is intense exhaustion and weakness, which will often be attributed to illness by the suspect, but which will inevitably fade as the moon wanes. There are other, more subtle clues. A fear of silver or of the full moon is often evident, which can be seen in many different forms, for instance in the working of the Pavor Charm where a person must confront what he fears, or in the presence of a Boggart.
Remus read that paragraph a second time, and thought back to his first lesson with Hermione’s class, with the Boggart. He had faced it, to prevent it from reaching Harry, and as always it had turned to the full moon. Did she suspect something? It wouldn’t surprise him, she was more than sufficiently quick-witted.
Remus gave a wan smile as he recalled his own Boggart-fighting lessons, where he had been unable to think of anything humorous to do to the full moon. Sirius had had plenty of suggestions, though, and one of them did have the desired effect in the end. His smile widened as he pictured the Man in the Moon, as Sirius had named it, peering out with spectacles like Professor McGonagall’s from the moon’s face.
Don’t think about Sirius, he warned himself angrily. It won’t help matters. He looked back at the essay, reading it with forced concentration, distracting himself with the detailed and specific list of what could be used to hurt werewolves. Setting classes essays like this, he thought before he could stop himself, that’ll work too. But then, that was what Snape had hoped for.
Pushing aside the nagging suspicion that Hermione suspected something, he stood up. No point in delaying things. He left the essays on the desk – he could come and mark them later – and went along towards the staffroom. Madam Pomfrey stopped him in the corridor.
‘Remus, you ought to be in bed,’ she said sternly, scanning him with a professional eye. ‘Where are you going?’
‘Staffroom,’ he answered shortly. ‘I'm fine.’
She peered into his face with a shake of her head. ‘You don’t look fine. Promise me you won’t do anything tiring this evening.’
‘I can take care of myself,’ he snapped, and then regretted it. She meant well. ‘I’ll be all right,’ he said more gently. ‘I have to keep my work going, though.’
Madam Pomfrey looked at him through narrowed eyes. ‘Go on then, just you be careful. I'm not going to be happy if you turn up half-dead tonight.’
‘I’ll be fine,’ he repeated, and he walked past her to the door to the staffroom. Snape was not there. He went to Professor Sprout, who was sitting at the long table in the middle, all her papers spread out over it.
‘Do you know where Severus is?’
She looked up. ‘Down in those dungeons of his, he spends half his life there. Why d’you want him?’
‘Just some stuff,’ he replied absently, turning to go. Sprout watched him leave, and he thought he saw her sit back with relief as he shut the door. Too blasted touchy, that’s what you are, he told himself. Snape must be getting to him. He knew he had a tendency to be snappish and sharp around the full moon, and he normally could counter this and control it.
Remus was breathing rapidly by the time he had gone down six flights of stairs to the dungeons, and he paused outside the door to steady himself. Well, now for the fireworks, he thought. He knocked.
‘Enter,’ murmured a voice so quietly he had to strain to hear it. He did so.
Snape had his back to the door, bent over a cauldron. Thick yellow smoke filled the room, making Remus cough and splutter. He paused, and Snape turned around slowly.
‘Oh,’ he said, looking at Remus as if at a small worm he was going to add to a potion. ‘A miraculous recovery, I see. What do you want?’
Remus fanned the yellow smoke from his face with one hand. ‘I need to speak with you about some of the things you set my classes to do while I was ill.’ He coughed again. ‘Do you think we could speak somewhere where there’s a bit less smoke?’
Snape’s lip curled. He turned to stir the cauldron, and another billow of the foetid smoke emerged from the unpleasant-looking mixture. Remus spluttered, but it didn’t seem to trouble Snape at all.
‘Your classes?’ he asked, his back still turned. ‘I've never seen so many ignorant students in one place before.’
‘The things you were asking my third years to do are beyond the normal range of things they should be studying, it’s not on the syllabus until the summer term or the start of the fourth year,’ said Remus as steadily as he could with the foul-smelling smoke in his nostrils.
‘And you’re going to teach them all about werewolves then, are you?’ sneered Snape, spitting each word out with venom. ‘I’ll believe that when I see it. We’re going to have the first generation of Hogwarts students who believe that if they give a werewolf a pat and say ‘good dog,’ they won’t get bitten, because werewolves are all decent people really.’ He took a stride forwards. ‘There’s no point in you giving the students lessons on werewolves. They need to hear the real story, from someone who was almost killed by a werewolf, who knows what you’re really like.’
Remus flinched a little. The smoke was making his eyes water. ‘Anyway,’ he said with some effort, ‘the third years thought the work you set them was excessive, and I've let them off it.’
‘Oh, you have, have you?’ With the yellow smoke billowing around him, Snape seemed considerably more formidable. ‘And how will they learn, pray?’
‘They’re doing well,’ he said. ‘They’re ahead of what I had planned.’
‘Indeed.’ Remus had not thought Snape’s sneer could deepen, but it did. ‘How – ambitious.’
‘Hermione wrote the essay,’ he continued levelly. ‘Do you want it to mark?’
‘You’re more than welcome to keep it. And the others. You ought to read them. It’s scarcely my problem.’ He turned back to his potion and began to drip in a green fluid. The smoke thickened, and Remus spluttered, wondering if Snape was trying to poison him. Probably.
‘If you should take my classes again, I'd ask you to keep to the scheme of work I've planned,’ he said.
‘I sincerely hope I do not have to teach your classes again,’ Snape replied in his hissing voice. ‘The students are both ignorant and bad-mannered. Clearly you do not care to keep discipline.’
Remus took a breath to make a sharp retort, inhaled a lungful of the now blue smoke, and choked. By the time he could speak again, he had decided that it would not be wise to anger Snape any more.
‘Then I’ll keep the essays. That’s all I needed to know. Good evening.’ Breathing deeply to rid himself of the smoke in his lungs, Remus left the dungeon with relief.
~
‘Snape’s comment led me to think, inevitably, of the occasion when I had done my best to kill him. In that frame of mind I read through the essays the fifth years had written. Snape had made them each write about an incident where a werewolf had attacked a normal person, and how they would change werewolf legislation. It did nothing to improve my mood. But I tell myself that it doesn’t really matter. It’s nothing. Severus Snape and all, life is infinitely better here than anywhere else I've been in the past twelve years.’
You flip through the pages, past descriptions of staffroom banter and the witticisms of his classes, skimming over a few descriptions of Dementor-fighting lessons. Another page catches your eye, dated a few months after the previous one. The writing is messy, unlike most of the diary entries, as if his hand had trembled as he had written. A scene begins to appear, outdoors this time.
‘I was at the Quidditch match, Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw…’
~
Remus sat in the stands with the other Gryffindor supporters, watching the Quidditch. He hoped the Dementors would not return, for Harry’s sake. Their evening lessons were very tiring for both of them. Though the Dementors affected Harry far more badly, Remus too would see the same sights when the Dementor appeared, the same ruined building, the same contorted face….
Don’t think about that, he instructed himself, and he looked up at the game. He spotted Harry on the Firebolt at once. Was it really from Sirius? he wondered, and wished he hadn’t. He could be sure that there wasn’t anything dangerous about it, half the staff had checked it for curses and hexes, himself included. Though he knew little about broomsticks, he could see the quality of it when Harry changed direction in mid-air.
His thoughts were forgotten as Harry and the Ravenclaw Seeker both shot off in the same direction, and he saw the glint of gold they were heading towards. A gasp around the crowd distracted him, and he looked down for a moment. Beneath the racing players stood three tall black shapes. Springing to his feet, Remus began to push his way down through the crowd, not certain what he was planning to do but aware that there must not be a repetition of the events of the last match. He made his way down, not taking his eyes off the two students racing through the air, groping for his wand. Harry did not falter.
Suddenly there was a brilliant flash of silver. Remus stopped dead. He could see Harry’s wand, and a huge shape hurtled through the air towards the Dementors on the ground. Remus felt as though his heart would stop as he saw what form it had taken. A giant silver stag was leaping at the Dementors on the ground.
‘Prongs,’ he gasped, his voice inaudible amidst the shouts. ‘Prongs.’ He caught hold of the railing for support, and stared as the Dementors tumbled to the ground. The silver stag dissolved into nothing, leaving him feeling empty. He had almost forgotten about the race to catch the Snitch until the stadium erupted in an explosion of cheering and waving of red and gold banners. It galvanised him to action, and he hurried down to where the Dementors lay fallen, a suspicion taking shape in his heart.
When one of the Dementors began to wriggle, he nodded decisively and looked back at the stands. Minerva was also making her way down, and he beckoned to her. She looked pleased and furious simultaneously, and he moved aside as she strode over to the ‘Dementors.’ When he saw the head of Draco Malfoy appear, struggling with the robes and the weight of another boy across him, he managed a smile.
Harry had landed not far off, surrounded by a congratulating crowd. Remus went closer.
‘That was quite some Patronus,’ he said when Harry was in earshot. Harry grinned excitedly, Remus could tell he didn’t know the significance of its shape. Should he tell him? Remus hesitated, but the crowd of cheering supporters swept Harry away and the moment was gone.
~
The page turns, the scene dissolves. You look across at the next page, and continue reading. Another image forms before your eyes.
~
A voice was shouting something across his dream, and there was a bell ringing. As it penetrated his sleep-fuddled mind, Remus realised that it was the alarm bell. He leapt up, sheets and blankets falling away, and grabbed for his wand. The bell only rang in the event of a great emergency; the last time he had heard it had been when he was a student, on the night that Voldemort had appeared.
‘All staff report to the staffroom immediately.’ Minerva’s voice echoed through the corridors through the magical megaphone, repeating her message again and again.
Remus pulled on some slippers and a cloak and headed for the door. Lights were burning all over the Gryffindor tower, he noticed.
Astrid Sinistra emerged from her room just as Remus went past, rubbing her eyes.
‘Do you know what’s going on?’ she asked breathlessly.
‘No. I just woke up myself.’ They hurried through the corridors, Astrid half-running to keep up with Remus’ long strides. The other staff were going into the staffroom as they arrived, talking nervously.
‘Is it You-Know-Who?’ Professor Sprout was asking Flitwick. He shrugged his shoulders, glancing around him with a worried eye.
‘I don’t know – ah, here’s Minerva.’
Minerva McGonagall waved a hand for silence.
‘The castle must be searched immediately,’ she announced. ‘Sirius Black was seen in the Gryffindor dorms about ten minutes ago. Nobody has been hurt, but this was due to good fortune.’
Remus caught his breath. How could Sirius have gotten in to the school, and then into Gryffindor? Either he had learned a lot from Voldemort, or – or he was using the old entrances. Remus stood torn, not knowing what he should do. It was clear what he should do. He ought to go to Minerva or Dumbledore at once, and tell them to watch the one-eyed witch and the Whomping Willow, and to look for a big black dog like a Grim. But he stood still as Minerva continued to speak, explaining exactly which parts of the castle they were to search.
‘Please remember that Black is highly dangerous. He is carrying a knife at the moment, and there is no doubt that he would not hesitate to use it. So keep your eyes opened,’ she concluded, and began to walk towards the door. Remus hesitated no longer. If Sirius killed someone else tonight, it would be his own fault for not warning them. He stopped her.
‘Minerva, I think there’s something you should know,’ he began in a quiet voice that was all but inaudible in the chatter and bustle as all the staff began to move towards the doors.
‘What? Speak up,’ she said curtly. ‘If it’s not vital than tell me later, Remus, please.’ She continued walking, and Remus kept pace with her.
‘What actually happened?’ he asked, stalling for time. ‘How did he get into Gryffindor, do you know?’
‘He had the passwords.’ Minerva turned to face him, her face pale with anger now. ‘That blundering good-for-nothing Longbottom wrote them down and left them lying around.’
‘Oh.’ A perfectly simple explanation, he thought. There was probably another as good for how he got into the castle in the first place. Remus hesitated again. ‘What did he do?’
‘Nothing, apart from rip a curtain. It’s extremely lucky, though. Ron Weasley woke up in the night to find him standing over him with a knife.’
Remus’ face turned white. ‘Is he all right?’
‘Yes, he screamed and Black fled.’ They came to the staircase. Remus was about to speak, but before he could summon up the courage, Minerva said, ‘You’re supposed to be covering the third floor, aren’t you?’
He nodded.
‘Take care, and don’t do anything foolish. You may have been a match for Black when you were students, but I doubt you are now.’
Remus frowned and didn’t answer. Minerva began to climb the stairs two at a time, and Remus had no choice but to go down to the third floor. Well, there was one thing he could check.
He almost ran through the passages to the statue of the one-eyed witch. He looked around carefully, his nerves twanging. If Sirius was still in the school, it was very likely he would come here. But there was no sign of him. Remus tapped the witch’s hump with his wand and murmured, ‘Dissendium.’ It opened, and he looked down. Nothing.
Taking a deep breath, Remus went down the shaft, his wand held ready. Minerva was probably right that he couldn’t out-fight Sirius, but he would have the advantage of having a wand. Unless Sirius had managed to acquire his own, but that was extremely unlikely. Remus stood at the bottom of the shaft and looked down the tunnel. It seemed empty, and it was very silent.
Perhaps he was wrong. Sirius was probably using the Dark Arts to get in, he wouldn’t need to play around with their old entrances and tricks. He kept glancing nervously upwards, half-expecting Sirius to come leaping down onto his shoulders. But after a few minutes of standing in the dark waiting, Remus decided that Sirius was not going to use this tunnel. He listened carefully before climbing out again.
The corridor was dark and deserted. Remus reluctantly left the statue of the one-eyed witch and began to go over the rest of the third floor. He was quite certain he would find nothing, though. If Sirius had fled, there would be no finding him hanging around here. As he poked around behind curtains and looking into disused classrooms, Remus wondered what he ought to do. He was quite glad that he had not told Minerva. The explanations that would have ensued would have been awful. After all he had received from the school and especially from Dumbledore, he had repaid his trust like this!
But what could he do? Go to Dumbledore and explain that twenty years ago he had broken all the school rules and also the law, and had encouraged his friends to do likewise? The time for telling him had been at the start of the year, not now. The time for telling him had been when Sirius went to Azkaban. Remus realised that Sirius could have been in any of the last three places he had looked, for he had not been paying the least bit of attention to his search. Here too I fail, he thought glumly. He went back along the passage and looked in the places properly. But there was nothing.
The search continued until dawn, and Remus continued to search his heart as well. But he did not find the courage to go to Dumbledore with an explanation. Sirius was clearly not using their childhood tricks to get into the castle, he had learnt much since then and had no use for them. He could not face the grief and disappointment that he knew would cross Professor Dumbledore’s expression when he told him what they had done. Dumbledore trusted him, and he would no longer break that trust. What had been done in the past was over.
~
The scene fades away. You skim over descriptions of exams and the success of the seventh-year NEWT class. The pages of the book seem to be turning on their own, as if ruffled by an unfelt wind. Finally the book falls open at a page near the end, where the writing is even more scrawling and messy than before. Again a scene unfurls before your eyes, on one of the days marked in red.
~
The sky was tinted with the orange and gold of sunset. Snape would be along shortly, Remus thought, with the Wolfsbane Potion. He turned the parchment over and finished marking the essay. Now that was done, he wouldn’t have any work hanging over him when he recovered.
He wondered how Hagrid was getting on. A thought made him frown. Harry was bound to try to do something, perhaps just visit Hagrid. He recalled seeing him in the library investigating incidents of Hippogriff assault with his friends, and he knew they were worried. But Harry should not be going out now that it was getting dark. Well, there was an easy way to check up on him.
Remus rummaged through his desk drawer and unrolled a tattered piece of parchment. He smiled a little as he tapped it with his wand and said, ‘I solemnly swear I am up to no good.’ For once, that was not true. Well, he should have handed the map back to Filch, or put it in the fire, but he couldn’t bear to do either. He remembered how Peter had lost it to Filch during one particularly risky adventure, and how furious Sirius and James had been. But there was no way he could have permitted Harry to keep it. Enough rule-breaking was enough, especially now that he was a teacher.
The twisting lines appeared, and he saw that Snape was indeed brewing something in his dungeon. Automatically, he looked for Filch and Peeves, and smiled a little. Harry probably had found this exceedingly useful. But that wasn’t what he was using this for tonight. After a quick look at the Gryffindor common room, he established that Harry was not there, and neither were Hermione nor Ron. He scanned the intricate picture, and finally found the trio out on the lawn, going towards Hagrid’s hut. He sighed, and wondered if he should go and stop them. But he probably didn’t have the time. He gave a nervous glance at the darkening sky. Rising, he left the room and went down the corridor to a window that overlooked the lawn. He was not surprised to find that he couldn’t see them. If Harry had any sense he’d take the Invisibility Cloak with him. Remus found himself recalling how tricky it was to fit three people under the Cloak, and wondering if Harry found the same problems. That is not the point, he told himself sternly.
He returned to his office, expecting Snape to make an appearance at any moment. But he was still hanging around the dungeons and his office adjacent to the Slytherin common room. If he didn’t come up, Remus would have to go down and get the Wolfsbane Potion from him personally. That would not be fun. He began to clear up his other papers, glancing at the Marauder’s Map occasionally. Harry, Ron and Hermione were all in Hagrid’s house, he noted. Well, they would be safe enough there.
An essay had gone missing. Remus began to hunt around for it, wishing the Map would show useful things like this occasionally. Now, if he could devise something that found missing papers he would be very popular in the staffroom. No day went by but one of the teachers could be found turning the place upside down to find a lesson plan or a register or a piece of homework. After some time, Remus found the missing essay stuffed into a book as a bookmark. Now that was a stupid place to put it, he thought.
He looked back at the Marauder’s Map. It took a moment for him to find Harry, Hermione and Ron, for they had left Hagrid’s hut. Remus saw Hagrid in the hut and hoped he was all right. After a moment he saw them not far from the Whomping Willow. Then he read another name, on a point which appeared to be in Ron’s arms. He was glad he was not far from his chair.
Peter Pettigrew, the Marauder’s Map spelt out in uncompromising black letters. He stared at it as if he might be imagining the words. Peter was dead, Peter died twelve years ago, he couldn’t be in the grounds of Hogwarts. Did the Map show corpses? He gave a shiver. It was absurd, it was impossible. Perhaps the charm on the Map was finally wearing down. He looked at the rest of it for confirmation of this theory. He saw Snape still in the dungeon, Filch in the kitchens with Mrs Norris, and himself in his office.
He took a long shaking breath, gripping the arms of the chair. How on earth could this be? Was Peter alive, after all these years? Why had he not revealed himself, come forward, why had he allowed everyone, even his mother, to think he was dead? Remus’ thoughts were wild and leaping from one thing to another. He stared at the map again. Ron and Peter were just passing the Whomping Willow. He looked around and almost cried out at what he saw. Another dot, labeled ‘Sirius Black’ was moving rapidly to Harry and the others. Sitting in his chair, his eyes riveted to the parchment, he saw Sirius leap at the group, and he clutched his wand. But Sirius bypassed Harry and grabbed Ron and Peter. Another dot, mysteriously named ‘Crookshanks,’ was moving ahead of Sirius, and towards the Willow. As he stared, he saw Sirius drag Ron and Peter into the tunnel, with Crookshanks following. He stared for a moment longer, too frozen with panic and incredulity to think what to do. It was only when he saw Harry go down the tunnel accompanied by Hermione that he was galvanised into action.
He grabbed a cloak and his wand and raced from the classroom. There was no time to go for help, and it would involve explaining all about the Marauder’s Map. He charged down the staircase, nothing in his mind except the desperate need to reach Sirius and Harry before anything happened. If only my strength is enough, he prayed internally as he almost fell down the stairs in his haste.
Nobody noticed him as he raced across the grounds to the Whomping Willow. He broke a branch from a nearby tree and began to prod the trunk. His hand was shaking a little, and he kept missing the knot, which only added to his impatience and awkwardness. Finally the tree froze and he flung himself into the tunnel. He began running even before making a light with his wand. He noticed great gouges and clawmarks along the tunnel’s walls, and he ran faster, pushing himself as far as he could go.
The racing journey passed in a whirl of doubts and fears. If Peter was alive, did that make Sirius innocent? No, of course not. How on earth had he survived? What had he done? What had Sirius done? Was it all some kind of incredible trick? He ran, expecting at every stride to encounter Sirius – had he been transformed? The Map didn’t say. Remus had little faith in his ability to come off better in a fight with Padfoot. Perhaps Peter…. Remus did not have an opportunity to finish that thought, for he had reached the end of the tunnel. He scrambled up into a dusty little room, terribly familiar to him. He looked all around wildly, but saw nothing. He could hear sounds, though, and he looked at the stairs. Then he heard a voice screaming in panic. Remus recognised it as Hermione.
‘WE’RE UP HERE! WE’RE UP HERE – SIRIUS BLACK – QUICK!’
~
The words are almost too smudged to read now, and the scene dissolves. The pages of the diary turn one last time under your fingers, to the final page. Here too are the scrawled letters, and a new scene begins to form, again outside.
~
An insect was running over him. Something was tickling his face. He raised a hand weakly to brush whatever small beetle crawled away into the dead It crawled over his tired hand, and he shook it off, opening his eyes. The black leaves, and Remus sighed. What on earth was he doing here?
It all came back to him in a flash. Sirius, was his first thought. And Peter. Snape … Hermione … the Shrieking Shack … the Potion he hadn’t taken. With a shudder he tried to dredge through the dim memories of his transformation. All those people had been around in the Forest – what had he done? It was with a feeling of great relief that he realised he had done nothing at all.
Apart from try to kill Padfoot. He shuddered again. The beetle came back and began to crawl over his foot. Remus didn’t shake it off. Small crawly things did not trouble him at all. His next thought was, what had happened? He went through his memories desperately. The Marauder’s Map, the scene in the Shrieking Shack, Snape’s arrival, Peter – he broke off his thought, recalling that he had almost killed Peter. If Harry hadn’t intervened…. Remus shivered again. But he could not recall what had happened. He had been shackled to Peter, and then – then he had transformed. After that his memories were vague, the wolf’s memories rather than his own. He remembered his fight with Padfoot vividly, struggling to make the wolf recognise him and failing. But he had no idea what had become of the others in the struggle, save that he had hurt nobody. Again and again, like a person prodding a sore place to see if it was any better, he went through his mind to check that he had done no harm.
Well, it wasn’t really enough to have hurt nobody. The fact was that he had been loose and dangerous in the school grounds, something that had never happened before. And there was only one way to be certain that it would never happen again.
But what about Sirius and Peter? Those were more urgent needs. He sat up wearily. At least he didn’t feel as rotten as he sometimes did after the transformations. But he couldn’t very well walk into school like this. One of the most infuriating aspects of the werewolf transformation was that in the process of transforming, all the clothes he was wearing were torn off. This normally ended up with him having to painstakingly mend them. But now his clothes were gone, and so was his wand. He had to find it before he went up to school. If he could find the school. The Forbidden Forest held fewer terrors for him than for most people, both because he was one of the most frightening things in it, and also because they had explored it so often as students.
Remus smiled suddenly. There was one thing he had now that he could be certain of. All those times Sirius had been kind to him when they were students, and when they had left Hogwarts, he could be confident that Sirius was everything he had thought him to be. The warmth of that feeling filled him, and he began to feel considerably better. He got to his feet. Now, where had they been when he had transformed? More to the point, where was he now? He looked around, trying to get his bearings.
Ah, he hadn’t gone too far, or he had come in a circle, because he could see Hagrid’s path. He began to walk along it as quickly as he could manage. Worries were beginning to form in his mind. Had they managed to keep hold of Peter? And what had Snape said about them? He knew how much harm Snape was capable of. He remembered something else. Hermione had worked it out, just from Snape’s essay. He had thought she might. Snape should be pleased about that, at least.
But first, his wand and something to wear. He had not been far from the lake when he had transformed, fortunately out of sight of the school. He kept running over Sirius’ explanation of events in his mind. Twelve years in Azkaban, and unjustly. The horror of it filled him, washing over his mind like a wave at flood-tide. But now he would be able to clear his name.
He came to the place where he had transformed. How could he have been so stupid? How, in the Shrieking Shack, surrounded by his old friends, could he have forgotten what time of the month it was and what he was? He knew that there was only one way to make sure he did not do this again. Snape was right. A werewolf could not be a fit teacher for anyone.
He could not see his wand anywhere on the grass, and he got down on his hands and knees to look properly. A few scraps of cloth showed him what fate his clothes had suffered. The rest had probably blown away during the night. Remus hoped desperately that his wand had not been picked up by some passing creature or blown away as well. He spotted the place where he had fought with Padfoot by the torn-up grass and the clawmarks. It would be somewhere just up from here, he thought, and went that way.
His hand fell on something hard and wooden. He gave a great sigh of relief as he picked up his wand, and sat down on the grass to check it over. It was damp with dew, but undamaged. He gave it an experimental wave, and produced a shower of sparks. For a moment he considered using it to conjure up some clothes, but conjuring spells were tricky at best, and probably not a good idea if he wanted to get up to school before lunchtime. But neither could he go up to the school like this. He looked around him as if expecting his clothes to blossom from a tree, and he saw Hagrid’s hut. There was a washing line that had been left up last night, and various brightly-coloured clothes were hanging from it. Well, he could return whatever he borrowed later.
The sun began to come out as he walked slowly up to the hut, walking quietly so as not to disturb either Hagrid or his dog. There was a very strange sound coming from inside as he went up to the washing line, like the sound of Sirius’ motorbike. Remus quietly went to the washing line. Many pairs of socks – they were no good, a gigantic vest, a very hairy blanket – no, that wouldn’t do. He looked at the flapping clothes, and spotted something that would serve, even if it was large enough to put poles in and use as a camping tent. He unpinned the canary-yellow cloak and wrapped it around him. As he had expected, it covered him with metres to spare. With some judicious folding and using the clothes-peg to hold it together, he soon had a fairly reasonable robe around him. It would do. The motorbike sound came again, and feeling very stupid, Remus realised that it was simply the sound of Hagrid snoring. He smiled at that, and began to walk up to school.
Everything was quiet downstairs, and nobody noticed his entrance. Looking at a clock, Remus saw it was only half past seven and realised that everyone was at breakfast. He went up towards his own rooms, thinking it would be a good idea to put something a little bit more respectable on before going to see Dumbledore. But as he passed a corridor that led up to Dumbledore’s office, Dumbledore himself appeared climbing up the stairs from the Great Hall. He was looking a trifle irritated, but he smiled when he saw Remus.
‘Ah, Remus, just the person. May I have a word?’ He glanced at the canary-yellow cloak with a raised eyebrow and a smile, but did not comment.
‘Professor Dumbledore, I need to explain – I have to tell you – I'm resigning,’ Remus said breathlessly.
‘Ah? Well, you’d better come into my office and have a seat and tell me about it.’ He looked at the cloak again. ‘Don’t I recognise that?’
‘Yes – it’s Hagrid’s – I’ll take it back to him shortly.’
‘Very well, very well. Come on up, then. Have you had breakfast?’
‘No.’ Remus had scarcely paid any attention to the gnawing hunger within him. It was something he was very practised at controlling.
‘Well then, we’d better fetch you something. Come in, take a seat.’ They entered the office, and Dumbledore waved a hand at the sofas in one corner. Remus sat in an armchair, feeling both out of place and disreputable in Hagrid’s yellow cloak. He waited impatiently while Dumbledore began to boil a kettle and find two mugs for their tea. He gave Remus a bright orange mug with silly faces all over it. As Remus stared at it, one of the faces stuck out its tongue at him. Hesitantly, he sipped the tea.
‘Now then,’ said Dumbledore. ‘Various people have been to me with all sorts of stories about last night. Perhaps you can clarify some of the details? First Sirius told me a very complicated story indeed, and then Harry and his friends told me another, and then Snape gave me a third version of events. I take it you were there for most of the crucial parts?’
‘Yes, yes, I was, but then – then I was loose in the grounds, Professor, and I hadn’t taken the Potion, and that’s why I am going to resign. I can’t put your students in danger.’
‘Did you do any harm?’ asked Dumbledore bluntly.
‘No.’ Remus had never been so glad to say that one syllable before. ‘But there is no way to be certain it will not happen again. So I have to leave.’
‘We’ll get to that presently. First of all, I suppose I'd better fill you in on the events after you transformed.’
Remus was both pleased and infuriated by Dumbledore’s casual way of referring to it. He looked at him expectantly.
‘Well, I have some bad news and some good news. Peter Pettigrew escaped, and without him there is no way Sirius’ name can be cleared. But Sirius also escaped, thanks to Harry and his friends.’
Remus stared at him. He set the mug down with a loud clunk.
‘It’s my fault,’ he stated. ‘If I hadn’t been so stupid and careless, he wouldn’t have got away.’ His voice was angry, not with Dumbledore but with himself.
Dumbledore’s face became stern. ‘Remus, no man can know what might have happened. All we can know is what has happened, and our business is to do our best to work with it.’ He looked at Remus over the tops of his spectacles. ‘So I don’t want to hear any more of this. Now, on with the story.’
He proceeded to explain to Remus exactly what had happened. When he came to the part about the Dementors, Remus turned ashen.
‘They tried to perform the Kiss, just like that?’ he asked.
‘I'm afraid so. Fortunately, something drove them back.’ Dumbledore’s genial expression turned almost angry. ‘They have been sent back to Azkaban. We cannot have them around the school any longer, they are a danger to the students.’
Remus nodded emphatically. So am I, he thought, and so I’ll leave too. Dumbledore continued to describe the rest of the story.
‘And Sirius just escaped, like that?’ he asked at the end. ‘Do you know how it happened?’
Dumbledore smiled broadly. ‘Ah, now that’s the interesting part. You see, it’s all down to the quick wits of Hermione Granger and Harry.’
As he explained about the Time-Turner and Buckbeak, Remus’ expression of amazement grew.
‘Where did Sirius go?’ he asked at the end.
‘Now, that I cannot tell you,’ said Dumbledore. ‘I don’t know. Out of all of us, I suppose you would have the best idea. Where would Sirius go, given a Hippogriff to ride and knowing that the Ministry is going to come after him?’
Remus paused, thinking about this. His only answer would be that Sirius would always go where he was least expected. But there could be no doubt about what Sirius would want.
‘He’ll look for Peter,’ he answered. ‘Sirius won’t give up on that.’
Professor Dumbledore smiled. ‘That was the conclusion I had drawn.’ He looked at Remus consideringly, and then waved his wand. Two plates appeared on the low table, and also a platter of bacon, eggs and toast. ‘Now how about some breakfast? Help yourself, do.’
For a while neither of them spoke while Remus ate hungrily and Dumbledore spread some toast with strawberry jam.
‘I am afraid I have some more unpleasant news to give you,’ said Dumbledore after a while. Remus looked up expectantly, unable to speak through a mouthful of egg.
‘At breakfast just now, quite against all my instructions, Severus informed the Slytherin students that you are a werewolf.’
Remus swallowed the egg. ‘It’s all right,’ he said resignedly. ‘I'm leaving anyway, it doesn’t really matter who knows. Hermione guessed, anyhow.’
‘Did she now? I didn’t know that, but it doesn’t surprise me.’ He looked carefully at Remus’ face. ‘So you intend to resign?’
‘Yes.’ Remus set his half-finished breakfast aside. ‘I'm sorry to leave you in the lurch like this, but I really cannot stay here where I am a danger to you all.’
Dumbledore only nodded. ‘If you are sure. Though you must not allow Severus’ actions to force your hand. There are certainly ways we could get around it if you wished.’
‘No.’ Remus looked Dumbledore in the eye. ‘I cannot stay here, knowing that I may hurt any of you. Last night showed me that much. It was very unwise of you to trust me in the first place.’
Dumbledore’s forehead furrowed in the merest hint of a frown. ‘Remus, I was more than right to trust you, and I trust you now. You have shown yourself to be a loyal friend and a devoted teacher, and I was surprised by neither of these things.’
Remus only shook his head, hearing the sincerity in Dumbledore’s voice. He longed to remain here so much he felt something was tearing out his insides. ‘I can’t,’ he said in a voice that was not perfectly steady. He realised there was another thing that must be said. ‘You know now about – about the Animagus transformation?’
‘I do indeed. It is extremely impressive.’ He beamed at Remus.
‘I'm sorry,’ said Remus softly. ‘I should have told you.’
‘It would have been helpful, I agree,’ said Dumbledore in an offhand tone. ‘Still, all’s well that ends well. Sirius explained it to me, and I do see why you refrained from telling me anything.’
‘I'm sorry,’ Remus repeated. He was almost wishing Dumbledore would be angry with him, for he knew he deserved it. But Dumbledore only gave him another of his broad smiles.
‘So, where will you go now?’ he asked.
Remus shrugged, realising he had no idea. ‘I’ll be fine, I suppose,’ he said. ‘No doubt something will crop up.’
‘Well, if you should ever need anything, you must ask us. After all, you have given us a great deal this year.’
‘Thank you,’ said Remus, internally vowing not to trouble Hogwarts on any account. ‘Now I'd better go and get my things packed up.’ He rose, and so did Dumbledore.
‘I’ll come and see you off presently,’ Dumbledore said. Remus looked at his headmaster for a long time, and returned Dumbledore’s smile weakly.
‘Thank you,’ he said again. Pulling the yellow cloak around him, he left the room. He knew this was the right thing to do, the only thing he could do, but it still hurt him terribly.
But there was one thing that made it all worthwhile. Sirius was innocent. He might be hunted and feared, but he had not been a traitor. Sirius had not betrayed James and Lily, he had not tried to murder Harry, he had not killed all those Muggles. Remus had not realised until it was gone how heavily the belief of Sirius’ guilt had weighed on him these past twelve years. Now he knew the truth, and the truth had released him from that burden. He smiled as he walked down the corridors towards his office.
~
The last page of the diary turns, and the book falls shut upon the desk, the spell broken. There is something written in pencil on the back cover. You bend down for a closer look. The words are not magical, and no scene appears as you read.
Moony, Padfoot and Prongs forever.
THE END
AN: One thing I want to say. The diary is not like Riddle’s in that Remus had to put his life into it. He hasn’t. It just shows the scenes when you read the words. Only a device, really. Hope you liked it.
Blaise
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