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sam_storyteller) wrote2005-07-07 01:15 pm
sam_storyteller) wrote2005-07-07 01:15 pm
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Laocoon's Children, Year III, Ch. 22
At one point in this chapter I have used dialogue or description taken from Prisoner of Azkaban. In this instance, text from Hermione's confrontation with Trelawney and Harry's discussion of Dementors with Remus have been lifted directly or slightly altered from canon.
First Posted 7/6/2007
***
January passed into February and then into March, snow turning to an unpleasant drizzle and the sun slowly beginning to peep through the clouds once more. There were no new attacks by Lucius Malfoy, but the professors did not relax their guard. Now they had more than just Lucius to worry about; they had to worry about the rest of Great Britain finding out as well.
The last weekend in February was a Hogsmeade weekend, miserable and chilly but brightened considerably by the warm fires and hot drinks to be had in the shops and pubs. Better still, from the students' perspective, they were chaperoned by Professor Sinistra, who primarily wanted to have a butterbeer and not be pestered, and Professor Lupin, who turned a kindly eye towards youthful high-spirits. Neville and Padma had run off with a handful of Gryffindors to go scare themselves at the Shrieking Shack, and Harry found himself walking with Remus down the muddy main street towards the Three Broomsticks. Harry had a small paper sack of humbugs, and Remus carried a rather larger bag of various sweets, including several bars of Honeyduke's finest chocolate.
"I think we'll put your Patronus lessons to rest for a week or two," he said, bag banging against his leg as they walked. "I don't like dealing with dangerous creatures so near after the full moon. How was Professor Snape, by the way?"
"Pretty good," Harry said. "Like he always is in Potions, just with Defence instead. Not as interesting as Ms. Umbridge," he added with a grin.
"Thank goodness."
"He talked a little about Dementors. Does he know you're tutoring me?"
"I haven't mentioned it, but Severus is sharp; he catches on. I'm sure he's proud of you, in his own way."
"Proud of a cloudy Patronus that doesn't do any good?" Harry asked.
"Don't be so hard on yourself. The Patronus charm is quite difficult. You're not passing out anymore, which is a relief to my nerves as well." A muscle in his jaw clenched. "Have you seen the papers today?"
"No, not yet, why?"
"There's been a decree by the Ministry. The Wizengamot convened last week to examine the sentences and paroles of several Azkaban prisoners. Some people will be going free soon."
"Now? With Malfoy on the loose?"
"Well, that's what most of Great Britain is saying, but there's more to the story. At the same time, they issued death warrants on Lucius Malfoy and Peter Pettigrew." He sighed. "The Dementors at Hogwarts have been given permission to execute them on sight. It bodes pretty ill for anyone caught out on the grounds. Dementors are not known for their powers of discernment. It's a pretty terrible death."
"What happens?"
"It's called the Dementor's Kiss."
"Great band name."
"Don't treat this lightly, Harry."
Harry looked up at Remus, who was staring straight ahead, eyes on the line of the Forbidden Forest in the distance.
"Nobody knows what's under a Dementor's hood, except that they have some kind of mouth, I suppose. They clamp their jaws on the mouth of the victim and -- well, as far as can be understood, they suck out their soul."
"Can you do that?"
"They can. The body goes on, because the brain and heart still work, but there's no memory, no sense of personality. And no chance of recovery. You just exist. As an empty shell. The soul is gone forever."
"Good," Harry said suddenly. Remus stopped and looked down at him. "I think they deserve it."
"Really? Do you think anyone deserves that?" Remus asked, but his tone was intentionally light -- as if he were making innocent conversation. Harry glanced past him and saw a familiar figure in the distance.
"For some things," he said, distracted. "Is that the woman who wrote about Draco in the Prophet?"
"Rita Skeeter? She's behind us?"
"Not for long," Harry said, as a claw-nailed hand clamped on Remus' arm.
"Professor Lupin," Skeeter cooed, joining them in the street. "And Mr. Potter. It must be a Hogsmeade weekend."
"Ms. Skeeter," Harry said, scowling.
"Not a very nice day for a walk, is it?" she asked, smiling at Remus. "I hope you're going somewhere warm and dry."
"Yes," Remus said shortly.
"Good! I'll join you. Perhaps Harry can run along to his friends? I can't imagine he wants to spend the whole day with his Professor, as popular as you are," she said.
"No thanks," Harry said. "We're just going to meet my godfather."
"Mr. Black! How delightful. And I suppose it's good when students and teachers are such particular friends, isn't it?"
"One tries to form bonds with one's students," Remus replied, walking on. Skeeter, one hand still on his arm, followed along. Harry glanced at her sidelong, mistrustfully. "One tries to protect them from bad influences."
"Admirable traits."
"Unlike some people," Harry said pointedly.
"Oh? Like who?"
"People who get my friends in trouble. People who write things about them in the -- "
" -- bathrooms, for example," Remus interrupted, laying a hand on Harry's shoulder in warning. "Youth, eh? They will have their japes."
Skeeter narrowed her eyes at Harry.
"What brings you to Hogsmeade?" Remus continued. "I can't imagine there's much newsworthy action to be had here. It's usually quite peaceful."
"Well, I can't neglect my favourite sport, can I? There's a match next week at Hogwarts, I understand. Gryffindor and Ravenclaw?"
"That's right," Harry said.
"Who do you root for when your team isn't playing, Harry?"
"We flip a coin."
"We, my dear?"
"Harry has friends in other Houses," Remus said.
"Democratic of him. Especially for Slytherin, don't you think?"
"Why Slytherin in particular? They're all students."
"That's a very professional approach, Mr. Lupin."
Remus glanced at her. "That's Professor Lupin, Ms. Skeeter. So you're still covering school sport, hm? Shame, really."
"Oh?"
"Well, I would think while you're exiled to Hogsmeade, your colleagues are covering all the really interesting stories."
"I find Quidditch very interesting. Hogwarts itself, too. I'm thinking of doing a story -- human interest, you know. The Secret Lives of Hogwarts Professors."
Remus laughed -- a very sincere laugh, entirely innocent, quite guileless. If Harry hadn't been raised by him, he'd fall for that laugh completely. As it was, he watched with interest. The grownups were playing a game, and it fascinated him.
"The Secret Lives! We're only schoolteachers. I daresay our extracurricular activities would bore you. And your readership."
"That sounds like a challenge."
"Nothing of the sort. I can give you your story in a dozen words. We mark papers, we have a pint down the pub, we drink tremendous amounts of tea, and we have faculty meetings. If you're really fascinated by where Albus Dumbledore gets his hair cut or Severus Snape buys his potions supplies, I suppose it'd be interesting, but on the whole we're a quiet lot."
He pushed open the door to the Three Broomsticks and held it for her, forcing her to let go of his arm and go first into the pub. Harry followed Remus just in time to see Sirius rise from his seat at the bar and unfold like winged fury.
"You," he said to Skeeter, his eyes taking in the reporter, the professor, and the student all at once. "Out."
"Mr. Black, the pleasure is -- "
"Get out," Sirius said.
"Calm down, Black," Remus began. Harry blinked. He'd never heard Remus use Sirius' surname when he was talking to him; he was confused for a second until it dawned that this too was part of the game. A secret-keeping game. "She's only come in for a quick drink..."
"You're a muckraking opportunist," Sirius said. "And I don't like you, Skeeter."
"One can't muckrake unless there's muck, you know," Skeeter replied composedly. "Fear of the free press is common in tyrants and those with something to hide."
"I'm not afraid of you," Sirius retorted.
"Good! Then I shall have a glass of the redcurrant wine," Skeeter said, seating herself boldly. Rosmerta looked from Sirius to the reporter, hesitantly. When Remus gave her a slight nod, she reached for a goblet and poured from a bottle behind the bar.
"I'm afraid we've been chattering too long," Remus said, jerking his head towards the door. "Go on, Black; Harry's been waiting all week to see you, and I have a few late appointments to see to. Enjoy your wine, Ms. Skeeter," he added, while Skeeter stared at him in consternation, neatly checkmated into staying and drinking while the other three left.
"I hate that harpy," Sirius said, when they were standing once more in the damp cold outside the pub. "You should have let me lay into her. I'd show her a thing or two about the free press."
"That's what I'm afraid of," Remus sighed. "She's chasing Harry around, or any Professor she can get her claws into. She'll cause trouble."
"Which is why I very kindly offered to throw her out. Now we're out in the wet."
"More flies with honey, Sirius."
"She's not a fly. She's less than a fly."
Remus grinned and ruffled Harry's hair, looking for all the world like a professor taking his leave of his student. "Don't underestimate her. I'm going this way; I'll see you tonight for dinner. Harry, run on with Sirius. Enjoy yourselves."
They watched Remus hurry off through the rain, ducking into a bookshop nearby. Sirius crossed his arms.
"He's right, you know," he said to Harry. "That's the worst of it."
"Well, she's stuck in there and we're out here. You want to go to the joke shop? You can buy some pranks to play on her if you see her again."
Sirius grinned at him. "Yes, I rather do."
***
March 7
Clarendon Wizarding Hotel
Boston, Mass.
Dear Professor Lupin,
Please excuse my handwriting; I know the stationery says the Clarendon Hotel but I am enroute to Salem via the train, and finding myself with a few spare minutes I thought to write you before any more time passes.
While I sympathise with Skeeter's curiosity about your young charge, I sympathise more with the natural reticence of a well-reared child towards public attention, and your desire to protect him as well. I believe I understand the mission you have charged me with quite fully, and I am not at all loathe to carry it out. I shall see you for the match and I hope to see Mr. Black and young Harry as well.
I understand that you and Harry spend your summers outside of Great Britain, according to sources which may or may not be accurate. That being the case, I have a favour to ask in return. I am considering giving up my wandering ways for the summer and settling down to the quiet life; do you suppose that excellent house in Hogsmeade would be free to let to a single man of retired habits?
My duties to the faculty and to your family; I'm afraid I must now pay some attention to this lecture I am supposed to be preparing for the Salem Institute. I sense I would have a better audience in your third-years than in the nineteen-year-olds I am about to face. Morituri te salutant.
Regards,
E. S. Graveworthy
***
Spring would not arrive for several more weeks, but the day of the Gryffindor - Ravenclaw match dawned clear, just warm enough to cast off winter cloaks. It was a gala day, with dozens of parents and Hogsmeade locals coming up to Hogwarts for the match.
Even Nymphadora had managed to shake off her diplomatic duties on the continent and come up from London, bringing three of the Werewolf Support Network's people with her -- Anne, Tobias, and a new woman who had replaced Michael and Marie now that they'd returned home. Severus looked askance at the trio of werewolves in school colours, but he said nothing; nobody else thought twice about the brightly-dressed friends of ex-Professor Tonks.
Remus was nearly late getting to the pitch, as he'd been making sure none of the students straggled or wandered; when he arrived it was to find that the faculty stands were packed tightly.
"So this is what comes of inviting friends to Quidditch," he said with a smile, descending to where Sirius was sitting in the front row. "All the seats gone and my friends absconding with coppers and artists."
"Remus!" Dora said, standing up and leaning over a handful of people to give him a hug around the neck. "We were wondering if you'd be late."
"Not quite. Is there room to budge over, or will I have to sit on your lap?"
"That would never do," said the man sitting next to Sirius. He stood up and offered his hand, smiling. "Do take my seat. Good to see you again, Professor Lupin."
"Mr. Graveworthy," Remus said. "The pleasure's mine."
"I imagine it is," Ellis answered, leaning close. "Seen Skeeter about?"
"Lurking in the back."
"That's my call to duty -- ah, Rita," Ellis added, deftly sliding past Remus and elbowing him into the vacant seat. "I'd heard you were covering these matches! Mr. Black, Professor Lupin, Toby, charming girls...I'm afraid I must abandon you. We have so much to catch up on, Rita."
Rita Skeeter, confronted with the gangling, insistent man, blinked owlishly.
"I have half-a-dozen questions to ask you," Ellis continued, guiding her backwards to the steps once more. "Allow me to buy you a bag of roasted nuts."
"Really, Ellis -- "
"Come, we can talk and watch at the same time, can't we?" he said, giving her a gentle shove. "Professor Lupin won't miss us. Loathe her," he added, leaning back and hissing in Remus' ear.
"We'll get you drunk later," Remus replied. Ellis returned to his new charge, beaming.
"Now, I've spoken to your editor recently about a serialised novel, and I was wondering if you would lend an old man a hand," he said, voice fading into the distance as they climbed the steps. "Do you suppose a profile in the paper is in order? I hear Gilderoy Lockhart had one, and you know I can't bear to be upstaged..."
"That's why you never play chess with Remus," Sirius said conversationally to Anne, who was sitting next to him. "Just when you think he's about to fall asleep he destroys you utterly. Graveworthy told me about your plot to get Skeeter off Harry's back."
"For the moment, anyway," Remus said.
"Long enough -- AHA!" Sirius shouted suddenly, pointing to the pitch. The players were rising on their broomsticks and the Quaffle was in play; Remus didn't think he'd get another serious word out of him until the game was over.
He glanced along the line of people seated in the row -- Sirius, then the werewolves up from London, and on the end...
He grinned. Dora, sapphire sparkling brightly on her hand, was curled against Severus, holding onto the sleeve of his robes in excitement. Severus looked past her, met his gaze, and gave him a long-suffering look. Then he glanced at Tobias, who had awkwardly settled his arm around Anne's shoulders.
All in order, then. Spring hadn't come yet, but there was the definite smell of it in the air; he hadn't dreamed in some time, and Rita Skeeter was being deftly deflected. For the first time in weeks, Remus felt his shoulders relax.
It was like being a student again, crammed into a crowded bench full of his friends, happily squeezed up against the object of his youthful adulation. And better still, because the boy he'd adored was now a man who had made him a place in the world and given him a son and someone to come home to at night.
"I love you," he said, leaning close to Sirius and whispering in his ear.
"EH WHAT?" Sirius asked, distracted by a near miss for the Gryffindor Chasers.
"I SAID I LOVE YOU," Remus shouted, words lost in the roar of the crowds. Shouted it, and nobody even looked twice. "AND WE'RE GETTING ELLIS DRUNK TONIGHT!"
"UP GRYFFINDOR! YOU TOO!" Sirius shouted back.
***
The sun was setting on Creadonagh Valley when the revelers returned to the house Sirius was so proud of. Dora and Severus had left them at the road to Hogsmeade, but Anne and Tobias and Denise, their new companion, were staying for dinner and Ellis would be staying with Sirius and Remus as honoured guest.
Sirius had put up a winter garden outside, complete with a copper fire bowl, and it was pleasant to sit around the fire, drinking and taking the game to bits to study it. Tobias had been a Gryffindor at school as well, and he and Sirius managed to draw Denise into the conversation. Ellis was sitting with Anne, not speaking much but listening intently, and Remus was warming his feet at the fire and studying the stars.
"I think we'd better gather ourselves up," Denise said eventually, finishing her drink. "I've got to have you two back in London by ten."
"Going by floo?" Sirius asked. "Use the one in the Three Broomsticks. The one in the little cafe is closer, but it's a bit dodgy sometimes."
"And look after yourselves," Remus added. "Don't go straying off. If you get lost, send up a flare, we'll see it from here."
"They'll be fine," Sirius said, as he shook hands with Tobias and allowed Denise to give him a kiss on the cheek. Anne smiled shyly and took Tobias' hand as they made their way to the road.
"Hahh," Sirius said, sitting down again and stretching out his arms. "Good day, eh?"
"Quite an excellent day," Ellis answered, shooing a moth off his sleeve. "Very edifying."
"Even two and a half hours spent distracting Skeeter?" Remus asked. "Speaking of which, let me top up your whiskey."
"Thank you. Oh yes; your young Anne just now made up for that entirely."
"Really? It looked like she was talking your ear off."
"I find other peoples' problems invariably fascinating. Such a very sad woman. I might do a novella on the Werewolf Problem, someday."
"It oughtn't to be a problem at all," Sirius said. He slapped at his neck and looked at his hand, frowning. "Fire does draw the bugs. She told you she was a werewolf?"
"I'm very good at listening."
"So is Skeeter," Sirius said. "But, vote of thanks to Ellis Graveworthy, we shan't have to worry about her hounding Harry again for a month or two."
"I don't know; there's plenty of research to be done outside of Hogwarts if she's motivated," Ellis said ruminatively. "I'd watch yourselves, if I were you. She's got it in for you, Black. And the two of you have a dilemma if she digs."
"I'm not going to live in fear of that one," Sirius declared. "Besides, anyone we care about knows, and we don't care about the rest."
"It must not be easy, living apart," Ellis mused.
"Well, we make do. I'm up at the school as often as I can be, and Remus gets down here quite a bit."
"Do you miss each other? No, I'm sorry," Ellis held up a hand. "That's impertinent and inappropriate. It's only that it's an interesting situation from my point of view -- two people very close together and yet quite far away."
"I don't mind answering," Remus said, looking to Sirius, who shook his head carelessly. "Having to live with someone takes time to adjust to, and it's hard to break those patterns when you live apart again."
"Hard to keep busy sometimes," Sirius said quietly.
"I tell him he could get a job."
"My job is to look out for you and Harry, and anyway the house still needs work."
"Hark at him," Remus said, grinning. Dobby appeared at the edge of the firelight, carrying a dishtowel.
"Is Mr. Black or Professor Lupin or Mr. Graveworthy wanting anything?" he asked. "Dobby can make toast, or bring sandwiches."
"Graveworthy? No? Right then, we're fine," Sirius said, tilting his head back. "You're free to run along to bed if you want, Dobby, we won't need anything more tonight that we can't get ourselves."
Dobby bowed, cleared away the empty glasses left by the others, and hopped up the garden path to the back door.
"I thought a lot about the past, on the way here," Graveworthy said, setting his drink down on the arm of his chair. "Remembering the last war, especially with those new edicts about Malfoy and Pettigrew. I know that for you it was a difficult loss, but with the rest of the Wizarding World I did breathe a sigh of relief when it was ended. Now one feels that old fear and urgency slowly creeping back..."
He looked at Sirius, studying him with half-lidded eyes.
"But in the meantime, we must build family as we find it, and store up happiness against the storm, mustn't we?" he said, smiling. "So, tonight...to the peace of home."
"The peace of home," Remus and Sirius echoed, lifting their glasses.
And it was good to toast to peace, because the next week all hell broke loose.
***
It started with, of all things, innocent and bookish Hermione Granger, constantly in competition with Padma for top of their year and something of a swot in Harry's opinion. Neville got on with her all right, and she had helped with the Umbridge Insurrection, but when all was said and done nobody expected her to cause the kind of trouble she did.
She had been growing visibly more impatient with Divinations as the term went on, and the other students did sometimes look to her for a sardonic eyeroll or a sharp retort to the professor. If Trelawney took any notice of these things, she didn't show it, but the students saw.
Still, plenty of students acted up in various classes, and nobody sensed what was coming. Especially not Trelawney.
Harry generally waited for Padma to arrive, so that they could go into class and find a seat together, since Padma was the odd Ravenclaw out and Trelawney never let him sit with Neville anyway. She arrived almost late, out of breath and with the Time-Turner still hanging outside her clothes.
"Sorry," she gasped, grabbing it and stuffing it inside her robes. "Didn't get the time right."
"It's fine," Harry said, as they entered together. Each table, which had formerly held teacups or cards, now held a large, foggy crystal ball. Harry glanced at Neville, who was looking annoyed.
"I thought we weren't starting crystal balls until next year," Padma whispered to him.
"Well, it's something new anyway," Harry said, sitting down at the first vacant table. "Let's study balls!"
"You're gross," she replied, but she did giggle a little.
"Now that all have arrived," Trelawney said, casting a misty eye on Harry and Padma, "We may begin. I have decided to introduce the crystal ball a little earlier than I had planned; the fates have informed me that your examination in June will concern the Orb, and I am anxious to give you sufficient practice."
Hermione, one table over, snorted. "She sets the exam! She doesn't need the Fates to tell her that."
"Crystal gazing is a particularly refined art," Trelawney continued dreamily. "I do not expect any of you to See when first you peer into the Orb's infinite depths. We shall start by practicing relaxing the conscious mind and external eyes so as to clear the Inner Eye and the superconscious. Perhaps, if we are lucky, some of you will See before the end of the class."
"What a waste," Padma sighed, as Trelawney began to lead a relaxation exercise. Hermione nodded. "I could be doing something useful..."
"We all could," Hermione replied in a whisper.
"Shh," Harry said, virtuously staring into the crystal ball. "I think I see something!"
"What?" Padma asked.
"There's going to be fog tonight!"
Padma and Hermione stifled their laughter, but not before it had drawn their Professor's attention.
"Please do not disturb the clairvoyant vibrations!" she called, gliding over to Harry and Padma's table. "Miss Patil, have you managed to discern a sign in the orb? Miss Granger?"
"I don't see anything," Hermione said contentiously.
"Allow me to provide you an example," Trelawney said, pushing her sleeves back to the accompanying crash of her bangled wrists. "Let us see what lies before Miss Granger on the path of life..."
She stroked the crystal ball affectionately, which made Harry want to snigger again.
"I didn't know we were supposed to stroke our balls," Seamus Finnegan said, nearly voicelessly, in Harry's ear.
"There is something here!" Trelawney declared, hunching so that she looked head-on at the orb. Harry saw her reflection in the glass, her nose huge and her face distorted. "Oh, my dear! If you continue on the path you have begun I fear...I fear..."
"What?" Neville asked, caught up in the moment.
"Oh my dear! Such failure and disgrace!"
Hermione sat back, crossing her arms.
"I'll chance it," she said.
"Mr. Potter, quickly, while the Sight is upon me..." Trelawney turned suddenly, making Harry start back, and gazed into the ball sitting in front of him. She let out a delicate shriek. "Peter Pettigrew!"
Silence fell on the classroom, the stony silence of children who know that someone has crossed a very firm line they should not have crossed.
"What did you say to him?" Hermione asked.
"Peter Pettigrew, drawing ever nearer -- " Trelawney said in a voice that wavered slightly. "Beware, Harry, beware!"
"Bollocks," Hermione announced loudly. Trelawney stiffened, then stood slowly, pivoting to face her.
"Miss Granger -- "
"It's bollocks and you know it," Hermione said. "You're just trying to scare him and that was a very rude thing to say."
"I am sorry, my dear, that you do not possess the necessary skills or intellect for the noble art of Divination. Indeed, I don't remember ever meeting a student whose mind was so hopelessly mundane. However, you must not disrupt the rest of the class or cast aspersions upon abilities -- "
"Which don't exist," Hermione replied furiously, standing and in the process bumping the table. The crystal ball teetered on the edge of its stand and then fell to the floor with an enormous thud, rolling a few feet away. "I live in the real world and I've had quite enough, thanks, of airy fantasies in a stuffy, stinky room."
She kicked the ball away and gathered up her bags, flouncing out. Harry had never seen such a pronounced flounce. The silence turned from offended to shocked.
"Well," Trelawney said, sniffing. "I did predict that one of us would leave this class forever -- "
"Guess you were wrong then," said Padma suddenly. Harry looked at her, astounded. "Two are."
She picked up her bag as well, looked around, and followed Hermione out. Harry gaped after them until Ron Weasley spoke too.
"I was really never good at it anyway," he said apologetically, already at the door.
Oh balls, Harry thought with a sigh, standing up.
"I've been faking my homework most of the year," he announced, and was surprised to have Padma hand him his bag, hers already over her shoulder. They left together to a quiet chorus of giggles for his confession. Behind him, he heard Neville say, "Well, he's my best friend, you know. Come on, Parvati."
When they reached the hallway outside the stairs, Padma and Hermione collapsed, bursting into laughter. Neville, coming up behind them, snorted.
"Girls," he said, rolling his eyes at Parvati, who had followed breathlessly.
"We've just dropped out of class," Hermione giggled. "I've never dropped out of a class before!"
"The look on her face!" Padma gasped.
"I didn't even think you liked Hermione much," Parvati said.
"I don't!" Padma blurted, then started laughing again. "Sorry Hermione!"
"It's okay, I don't like you either!" Hermione giggled.
"But that was too brilliant not to join...in..." Padma collapsed in a heap on the floor.
"Harry, why did you come?" Hermione asked.
"Told her I'd been faking my homework all year," Harry said. Both burst into fresh fits of laughter. Padma pushed herself up the wall and reached for Parvati, hugging her sister tightly.
"Oh god, we're in so much trouble," Hermione said. "What do we do now?"
Harry considered all possible options.
"We find Professor Lupin," he said.
"Why?" Ron asked.
"He told me he did the same thing when he was at Hogwarts."
To the Next Part
First Posted 7/6/2007
***
January passed into February and then into March, snow turning to an unpleasant drizzle and the sun slowly beginning to peep through the clouds once more. There were no new attacks by Lucius Malfoy, but the professors did not relax their guard. Now they had more than just Lucius to worry about; they had to worry about the rest of Great Britain finding out as well.
The last weekend in February was a Hogsmeade weekend, miserable and chilly but brightened considerably by the warm fires and hot drinks to be had in the shops and pubs. Better still, from the students' perspective, they were chaperoned by Professor Sinistra, who primarily wanted to have a butterbeer and not be pestered, and Professor Lupin, who turned a kindly eye towards youthful high-spirits. Neville and Padma had run off with a handful of Gryffindors to go scare themselves at the Shrieking Shack, and Harry found himself walking with Remus down the muddy main street towards the Three Broomsticks. Harry had a small paper sack of humbugs, and Remus carried a rather larger bag of various sweets, including several bars of Honeyduke's finest chocolate.
"I think we'll put your Patronus lessons to rest for a week or two," he said, bag banging against his leg as they walked. "I don't like dealing with dangerous creatures so near after the full moon. How was Professor Snape, by the way?"
"Pretty good," Harry said. "Like he always is in Potions, just with Defence instead. Not as interesting as Ms. Umbridge," he added with a grin.
"Thank goodness."
"He talked a little about Dementors. Does he know you're tutoring me?"
"I haven't mentioned it, but Severus is sharp; he catches on. I'm sure he's proud of you, in his own way."
"Proud of a cloudy Patronus that doesn't do any good?" Harry asked.
"Don't be so hard on yourself. The Patronus charm is quite difficult. You're not passing out anymore, which is a relief to my nerves as well." A muscle in his jaw clenched. "Have you seen the papers today?"
"No, not yet, why?"
"There's been a decree by the Ministry. The Wizengamot convened last week to examine the sentences and paroles of several Azkaban prisoners. Some people will be going free soon."
"Now? With Malfoy on the loose?"
"Well, that's what most of Great Britain is saying, but there's more to the story. At the same time, they issued death warrants on Lucius Malfoy and Peter Pettigrew." He sighed. "The Dementors at Hogwarts have been given permission to execute them on sight. It bodes pretty ill for anyone caught out on the grounds. Dementors are not known for their powers of discernment. It's a pretty terrible death."
"What happens?"
"It's called the Dementor's Kiss."
"Great band name."
"Don't treat this lightly, Harry."
Harry looked up at Remus, who was staring straight ahead, eyes on the line of the Forbidden Forest in the distance.
"Nobody knows what's under a Dementor's hood, except that they have some kind of mouth, I suppose. They clamp their jaws on the mouth of the victim and -- well, as far as can be understood, they suck out their soul."
"Can you do that?"
"They can. The body goes on, because the brain and heart still work, but there's no memory, no sense of personality. And no chance of recovery. You just exist. As an empty shell. The soul is gone forever."
"Good," Harry said suddenly. Remus stopped and looked down at him. "I think they deserve it."
"Really? Do you think anyone deserves that?" Remus asked, but his tone was intentionally light -- as if he were making innocent conversation. Harry glanced past him and saw a familiar figure in the distance.
"For some things," he said, distracted. "Is that the woman who wrote about Draco in the Prophet?"
"Rita Skeeter? She's behind us?"
"Not for long," Harry said, as a claw-nailed hand clamped on Remus' arm.
"Professor Lupin," Skeeter cooed, joining them in the street. "And Mr. Potter. It must be a Hogsmeade weekend."
"Ms. Skeeter," Harry said, scowling.
"Not a very nice day for a walk, is it?" she asked, smiling at Remus. "I hope you're going somewhere warm and dry."
"Yes," Remus said shortly.
"Good! I'll join you. Perhaps Harry can run along to his friends? I can't imagine he wants to spend the whole day with his Professor, as popular as you are," she said.
"No thanks," Harry said. "We're just going to meet my godfather."
"Mr. Black! How delightful. And I suppose it's good when students and teachers are such particular friends, isn't it?"
"One tries to form bonds with one's students," Remus replied, walking on. Skeeter, one hand still on his arm, followed along. Harry glanced at her sidelong, mistrustfully. "One tries to protect them from bad influences."
"Admirable traits."
"Unlike some people," Harry said pointedly.
"Oh? Like who?"
"People who get my friends in trouble. People who write things about them in the -- "
" -- bathrooms, for example," Remus interrupted, laying a hand on Harry's shoulder in warning. "Youth, eh? They will have their japes."
Skeeter narrowed her eyes at Harry.
"What brings you to Hogsmeade?" Remus continued. "I can't imagine there's much newsworthy action to be had here. It's usually quite peaceful."
"Well, I can't neglect my favourite sport, can I? There's a match next week at Hogwarts, I understand. Gryffindor and Ravenclaw?"
"That's right," Harry said.
"Who do you root for when your team isn't playing, Harry?"
"We flip a coin."
"We, my dear?"
"Harry has friends in other Houses," Remus said.
"Democratic of him. Especially for Slytherin, don't you think?"
"Why Slytherin in particular? They're all students."
"That's a very professional approach, Mr. Lupin."
Remus glanced at her. "That's Professor Lupin, Ms. Skeeter. So you're still covering school sport, hm? Shame, really."
"Oh?"
"Well, I would think while you're exiled to Hogsmeade, your colleagues are covering all the really interesting stories."
"I find Quidditch very interesting. Hogwarts itself, too. I'm thinking of doing a story -- human interest, you know. The Secret Lives of Hogwarts Professors."
Remus laughed -- a very sincere laugh, entirely innocent, quite guileless. If Harry hadn't been raised by him, he'd fall for that laugh completely. As it was, he watched with interest. The grownups were playing a game, and it fascinated him.
"The Secret Lives! We're only schoolteachers. I daresay our extracurricular activities would bore you. And your readership."
"That sounds like a challenge."
"Nothing of the sort. I can give you your story in a dozen words. We mark papers, we have a pint down the pub, we drink tremendous amounts of tea, and we have faculty meetings. If you're really fascinated by where Albus Dumbledore gets his hair cut or Severus Snape buys his potions supplies, I suppose it'd be interesting, but on the whole we're a quiet lot."
He pushed open the door to the Three Broomsticks and held it for her, forcing her to let go of his arm and go first into the pub. Harry followed Remus just in time to see Sirius rise from his seat at the bar and unfold like winged fury.
"You," he said to Skeeter, his eyes taking in the reporter, the professor, and the student all at once. "Out."
"Mr. Black, the pleasure is -- "
"Get out," Sirius said.
"Calm down, Black," Remus began. Harry blinked. He'd never heard Remus use Sirius' surname when he was talking to him; he was confused for a second until it dawned that this too was part of the game. A secret-keeping game. "She's only come in for a quick drink..."
"You're a muckraking opportunist," Sirius said. "And I don't like you, Skeeter."
"One can't muckrake unless there's muck, you know," Skeeter replied composedly. "Fear of the free press is common in tyrants and those with something to hide."
"I'm not afraid of you," Sirius retorted.
"Good! Then I shall have a glass of the redcurrant wine," Skeeter said, seating herself boldly. Rosmerta looked from Sirius to the reporter, hesitantly. When Remus gave her a slight nod, she reached for a goblet and poured from a bottle behind the bar.
"I'm afraid we've been chattering too long," Remus said, jerking his head towards the door. "Go on, Black; Harry's been waiting all week to see you, and I have a few late appointments to see to. Enjoy your wine, Ms. Skeeter," he added, while Skeeter stared at him in consternation, neatly checkmated into staying and drinking while the other three left.
"I hate that harpy," Sirius said, when they were standing once more in the damp cold outside the pub. "You should have let me lay into her. I'd show her a thing or two about the free press."
"That's what I'm afraid of," Remus sighed. "She's chasing Harry around, or any Professor she can get her claws into. She'll cause trouble."
"Which is why I very kindly offered to throw her out. Now we're out in the wet."
"More flies with honey, Sirius."
"She's not a fly. She's less than a fly."
Remus grinned and ruffled Harry's hair, looking for all the world like a professor taking his leave of his student. "Don't underestimate her. I'm going this way; I'll see you tonight for dinner. Harry, run on with Sirius. Enjoy yourselves."
They watched Remus hurry off through the rain, ducking into a bookshop nearby. Sirius crossed his arms.
"He's right, you know," he said to Harry. "That's the worst of it."
"Well, she's stuck in there and we're out here. You want to go to the joke shop? You can buy some pranks to play on her if you see her again."
Sirius grinned at him. "Yes, I rather do."
***
March 7
Clarendon Wizarding Hotel
Boston, Mass.
Dear Professor Lupin,
Please excuse my handwriting; I know the stationery says the Clarendon Hotel but I am enroute to Salem via the train, and finding myself with a few spare minutes I thought to write you before any more time passes.
While I sympathise with Skeeter's curiosity about your young charge, I sympathise more with the natural reticence of a well-reared child towards public attention, and your desire to protect him as well. I believe I understand the mission you have charged me with quite fully, and I am not at all loathe to carry it out. I shall see you for the match and I hope to see Mr. Black and young Harry as well.
I understand that you and Harry spend your summers outside of Great Britain, according to sources which may or may not be accurate. That being the case, I have a favour to ask in return. I am considering giving up my wandering ways for the summer and settling down to the quiet life; do you suppose that excellent house in Hogsmeade would be free to let to a single man of retired habits?
My duties to the faculty and to your family; I'm afraid I must now pay some attention to this lecture I am supposed to be preparing for the Salem Institute. I sense I would have a better audience in your third-years than in the nineteen-year-olds I am about to face. Morituri te salutant.
Regards,
E. S. Graveworthy
***
Spring would not arrive for several more weeks, but the day of the Gryffindor - Ravenclaw match dawned clear, just warm enough to cast off winter cloaks. It was a gala day, with dozens of parents and Hogsmeade locals coming up to Hogwarts for the match.
Even Nymphadora had managed to shake off her diplomatic duties on the continent and come up from London, bringing three of the Werewolf Support Network's people with her -- Anne, Tobias, and a new woman who had replaced Michael and Marie now that they'd returned home. Severus looked askance at the trio of werewolves in school colours, but he said nothing; nobody else thought twice about the brightly-dressed friends of ex-Professor Tonks.
Remus was nearly late getting to the pitch, as he'd been making sure none of the students straggled or wandered; when he arrived it was to find that the faculty stands were packed tightly.
"So this is what comes of inviting friends to Quidditch," he said with a smile, descending to where Sirius was sitting in the front row. "All the seats gone and my friends absconding with coppers and artists."
"Remus!" Dora said, standing up and leaning over a handful of people to give him a hug around the neck. "We were wondering if you'd be late."
"Not quite. Is there room to budge over, or will I have to sit on your lap?"
"That would never do," said the man sitting next to Sirius. He stood up and offered his hand, smiling. "Do take my seat. Good to see you again, Professor Lupin."
"Mr. Graveworthy," Remus said. "The pleasure's mine."
"I imagine it is," Ellis answered, leaning close. "Seen Skeeter about?"
"Lurking in the back."
"That's my call to duty -- ah, Rita," Ellis added, deftly sliding past Remus and elbowing him into the vacant seat. "I'd heard you were covering these matches! Mr. Black, Professor Lupin, Toby, charming girls...I'm afraid I must abandon you. We have so much to catch up on, Rita."
Rita Skeeter, confronted with the gangling, insistent man, blinked owlishly.
"I have half-a-dozen questions to ask you," Ellis continued, guiding her backwards to the steps once more. "Allow me to buy you a bag of roasted nuts."
"Really, Ellis -- "
"Come, we can talk and watch at the same time, can't we?" he said, giving her a gentle shove. "Professor Lupin won't miss us. Loathe her," he added, leaning back and hissing in Remus' ear.
"We'll get you drunk later," Remus replied. Ellis returned to his new charge, beaming.
"Now, I've spoken to your editor recently about a serialised novel, and I was wondering if you would lend an old man a hand," he said, voice fading into the distance as they climbed the steps. "Do you suppose a profile in the paper is in order? I hear Gilderoy Lockhart had one, and you know I can't bear to be upstaged..."
"That's why you never play chess with Remus," Sirius said conversationally to Anne, who was sitting next to him. "Just when you think he's about to fall asleep he destroys you utterly. Graveworthy told me about your plot to get Skeeter off Harry's back."
"For the moment, anyway," Remus said.
"Long enough -- AHA!" Sirius shouted suddenly, pointing to the pitch. The players were rising on their broomsticks and the Quaffle was in play; Remus didn't think he'd get another serious word out of him until the game was over.
He glanced along the line of people seated in the row -- Sirius, then the werewolves up from London, and on the end...
He grinned. Dora, sapphire sparkling brightly on her hand, was curled against Severus, holding onto the sleeve of his robes in excitement. Severus looked past her, met his gaze, and gave him a long-suffering look. Then he glanced at Tobias, who had awkwardly settled his arm around Anne's shoulders.
All in order, then. Spring hadn't come yet, but there was the definite smell of it in the air; he hadn't dreamed in some time, and Rita Skeeter was being deftly deflected. For the first time in weeks, Remus felt his shoulders relax.
It was like being a student again, crammed into a crowded bench full of his friends, happily squeezed up against the object of his youthful adulation. And better still, because the boy he'd adored was now a man who had made him a place in the world and given him a son and someone to come home to at night.
"I love you," he said, leaning close to Sirius and whispering in his ear.
"EH WHAT?" Sirius asked, distracted by a near miss for the Gryffindor Chasers.
"I SAID I LOVE YOU," Remus shouted, words lost in the roar of the crowds. Shouted it, and nobody even looked twice. "AND WE'RE GETTING ELLIS DRUNK TONIGHT!"
"UP GRYFFINDOR! YOU TOO!" Sirius shouted back.
***
The sun was setting on Creadonagh Valley when the revelers returned to the house Sirius was so proud of. Dora and Severus had left them at the road to Hogsmeade, but Anne and Tobias and Denise, their new companion, were staying for dinner and Ellis would be staying with Sirius and Remus as honoured guest.
Sirius had put up a winter garden outside, complete with a copper fire bowl, and it was pleasant to sit around the fire, drinking and taking the game to bits to study it. Tobias had been a Gryffindor at school as well, and he and Sirius managed to draw Denise into the conversation. Ellis was sitting with Anne, not speaking much but listening intently, and Remus was warming his feet at the fire and studying the stars.
"I think we'd better gather ourselves up," Denise said eventually, finishing her drink. "I've got to have you two back in London by ten."
"Going by floo?" Sirius asked. "Use the one in the Three Broomsticks. The one in the little cafe is closer, but it's a bit dodgy sometimes."
"And look after yourselves," Remus added. "Don't go straying off. If you get lost, send up a flare, we'll see it from here."
"They'll be fine," Sirius said, as he shook hands with Tobias and allowed Denise to give him a kiss on the cheek. Anne smiled shyly and took Tobias' hand as they made their way to the road.
"Hahh," Sirius said, sitting down again and stretching out his arms. "Good day, eh?"
"Quite an excellent day," Ellis answered, shooing a moth off his sleeve. "Very edifying."
"Even two and a half hours spent distracting Skeeter?" Remus asked. "Speaking of which, let me top up your whiskey."
"Thank you. Oh yes; your young Anne just now made up for that entirely."
"Really? It looked like she was talking your ear off."
"I find other peoples' problems invariably fascinating. Such a very sad woman. I might do a novella on the Werewolf Problem, someday."
"It oughtn't to be a problem at all," Sirius said. He slapped at his neck and looked at his hand, frowning. "Fire does draw the bugs. She told you she was a werewolf?"
"I'm very good at listening."
"So is Skeeter," Sirius said. "But, vote of thanks to Ellis Graveworthy, we shan't have to worry about her hounding Harry again for a month or two."
"I don't know; there's plenty of research to be done outside of Hogwarts if she's motivated," Ellis said ruminatively. "I'd watch yourselves, if I were you. She's got it in for you, Black. And the two of you have a dilemma if she digs."
"I'm not going to live in fear of that one," Sirius declared. "Besides, anyone we care about knows, and we don't care about the rest."
"It must not be easy, living apart," Ellis mused.
"Well, we make do. I'm up at the school as often as I can be, and Remus gets down here quite a bit."
"Do you miss each other? No, I'm sorry," Ellis held up a hand. "That's impertinent and inappropriate. It's only that it's an interesting situation from my point of view -- two people very close together and yet quite far away."
"I don't mind answering," Remus said, looking to Sirius, who shook his head carelessly. "Having to live with someone takes time to adjust to, and it's hard to break those patterns when you live apart again."
"Hard to keep busy sometimes," Sirius said quietly.
"I tell him he could get a job."
"My job is to look out for you and Harry, and anyway the house still needs work."
"Hark at him," Remus said, grinning. Dobby appeared at the edge of the firelight, carrying a dishtowel.
"Is Mr. Black or Professor Lupin or Mr. Graveworthy wanting anything?" he asked. "Dobby can make toast, or bring sandwiches."
"Graveworthy? No? Right then, we're fine," Sirius said, tilting his head back. "You're free to run along to bed if you want, Dobby, we won't need anything more tonight that we can't get ourselves."
Dobby bowed, cleared away the empty glasses left by the others, and hopped up the garden path to the back door.
"I thought a lot about the past, on the way here," Graveworthy said, setting his drink down on the arm of his chair. "Remembering the last war, especially with those new edicts about Malfoy and Pettigrew. I know that for you it was a difficult loss, but with the rest of the Wizarding World I did breathe a sigh of relief when it was ended. Now one feels that old fear and urgency slowly creeping back..."
He looked at Sirius, studying him with half-lidded eyes.
"But in the meantime, we must build family as we find it, and store up happiness against the storm, mustn't we?" he said, smiling. "So, tonight...to the peace of home."
"The peace of home," Remus and Sirius echoed, lifting their glasses.
And it was good to toast to peace, because the next week all hell broke loose.
***
It started with, of all things, innocent and bookish Hermione Granger, constantly in competition with Padma for top of their year and something of a swot in Harry's opinion. Neville got on with her all right, and she had helped with the Umbridge Insurrection, but when all was said and done nobody expected her to cause the kind of trouble she did.
She had been growing visibly more impatient with Divinations as the term went on, and the other students did sometimes look to her for a sardonic eyeroll or a sharp retort to the professor. If Trelawney took any notice of these things, she didn't show it, but the students saw.
Still, plenty of students acted up in various classes, and nobody sensed what was coming. Especially not Trelawney.
Harry generally waited for Padma to arrive, so that they could go into class and find a seat together, since Padma was the odd Ravenclaw out and Trelawney never let him sit with Neville anyway. She arrived almost late, out of breath and with the Time-Turner still hanging outside her clothes.
"Sorry," she gasped, grabbing it and stuffing it inside her robes. "Didn't get the time right."
"It's fine," Harry said, as they entered together. Each table, which had formerly held teacups or cards, now held a large, foggy crystal ball. Harry glanced at Neville, who was looking annoyed.
"I thought we weren't starting crystal balls until next year," Padma whispered to him.
"Well, it's something new anyway," Harry said, sitting down at the first vacant table. "Let's study balls!"
"You're gross," she replied, but she did giggle a little.
"Now that all have arrived," Trelawney said, casting a misty eye on Harry and Padma, "We may begin. I have decided to introduce the crystal ball a little earlier than I had planned; the fates have informed me that your examination in June will concern the Orb, and I am anxious to give you sufficient practice."
Hermione, one table over, snorted. "She sets the exam! She doesn't need the Fates to tell her that."
"Crystal gazing is a particularly refined art," Trelawney continued dreamily. "I do not expect any of you to See when first you peer into the Orb's infinite depths. We shall start by practicing relaxing the conscious mind and external eyes so as to clear the Inner Eye and the superconscious. Perhaps, if we are lucky, some of you will See before the end of the class."
"What a waste," Padma sighed, as Trelawney began to lead a relaxation exercise. Hermione nodded. "I could be doing something useful..."
"We all could," Hermione replied in a whisper.
"Shh," Harry said, virtuously staring into the crystal ball. "I think I see something!"
"What?" Padma asked.
"There's going to be fog tonight!"
Padma and Hermione stifled their laughter, but not before it had drawn their Professor's attention.
"Please do not disturb the clairvoyant vibrations!" she called, gliding over to Harry and Padma's table. "Miss Patil, have you managed to discern a sign in the orb? Miss Granger?"
"I don't see anything," Hermione said contentiously.
"Allow me to provide you an example," Trelawney said, pushing her sleeves back to the accompanying crash of her bangled wrists. "Let us see what lies before Miss Granger on the path of life..."
She stroked the crystal ball affectionately, which made Harry want to snigger again.
"I didn't know we were supposed to stroke our balls," Seamus Finnegan said, nearly voicelessly, in Harry's ear.
"There is something here!" Trelawney declared, hunching so that she looked head-on at the orb. Harry saw her reflection in the glass, her nose huge and her face distorted. "Oh, my dear! If you continue on the path you have begun I fear...I fear..."
"What?" Neville asked, caught up in the moment.
"Oh my dear! Such failure and disgrace!"
Hermione sat back, crossing her arms.
"I'll chance it," she said.
"Mr. Potter, quickly, while the Sight is upon me..." Trelawney turned suddenly, making Harry start back, and gazed into the ball sitting in front of him. She let out a delicate shriek. "Peter Pettigrew!"
Silence fell on the classroom, the stony silence of children who know that someone has crossed a very firm line they should not have crossed.
"What did you say to him?" Hermione asked.
"Peter Pettigrew, drawing ever nearer -- " Trelawney said in a voice that wavered slightly. "Beware, Harry, beware!"
"Bollocks," Hermione announced loudly. Trelawney stiffened, then stood slowly, pivoting to face her.
"Miss Granger -- "
"It's bollocks and you know it," Hermione said. "You're just trying to scare him and that was a very rude thing to say."
"I am sorry, my dear, that you do not possess the necessary skills or intellect for the noble art of Divination. Indeed, I don't remember ever meeting a student whose mind was so hopelessly mundane. However, you must not disrupt the rest of the class or cast aspersions upon abilities -- "
"Which don't exist," Hermione replied furiously, standing and in the process bumping the table. The crystal ball teetered on the edge of its stand and then fell to the floor with an enormous thud, rolling a few feet away. "I live in the real world and I've had quite enough, thanks, of airy fantasies in a stuffy, stinky room."
She kicked the ball away and gathered up her bags, flouncing out. Harry had never seen such a pronounced flounce. The silence turned from offended to shocked.
"Well," Trelawney said, sniffing. "I did predict that one of us would leave this class forever -- "
"Guess you were wrong then," said Padma suddenly. Harry looked at her, astounded. "Two are."
She picked up her bag as well, looked around, and followed Hermione out. Harry gaped after them until Ron Weasley spoke too.
"I was really never good at it anyway," he said apologetically, already at the door.
Oh balls, Harry thought with a sigh, standing up.
"I've been faking my homework most of the year," he announced, and was surprised to have Padma hand him his bag, hers already over her shoulder. They left together to a quiet chorus of giggles for his confession. Behind him, he heard Neville say, "Well, he's my best friend, you know. Come on, Parvati."
When they reached the hallway outside the stairs, Padma and Hermione collapsed, bursting into laughter. Neville, coming up behind them, snorted.
"Girls," he said, rolling his eyes at Parvati, who had followed breathlessly.
"We've just dropped out of class," Hermione giggled. "I've never dropped out of a class before!"
"The look on her face!" Padma gasped.
"I didn't even think you liked Hermione much," Parvati said.
"I don't!" Padma blurted, then started laughing again. "Sorry Hermione!"
"It's okay, I don't like you either!" Hermione giggled.
"But that was too brilliant not to join...in..." Padma collapsed in a heap on the floor.
"Harry, why did you come?" Hermione asked.
"Told her I'd been faking my homework all year," Harry said. Both burst into fresh fits of laughter. Padma pushed herself up the wall and reached for Parvati, hugging her sister tightly.
"Oh god, we're in so much trouble," Hermione said. "What do we do now?"
Harry considered all possible options.
"We find Professor Lupin," he said.
"Why?" Ron asked.
"He told me he did the same thing when he was at Hogwarts."
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