Challenge Prompt: Write about a member of the Order of the Phoenix
Setting: November 1995, Abernethy Forest, Strathspey, Highland, Scotland
Remus blinked as the blindfold was removed. His…. hosts, he supposed… had led him for at least 2 hours through the forest. He'd heard rumors of a pack living here, one that was just skilled enough at magic to keep themselves hidden from the muggles, and he knew that most packs preferred to keep their homes secret, but he was nevertheless glad to be able to see again.
Remus looked around, once again taking in the beauty of the forest itself. The muggles had claimed much of the wilderness of the world, but this forest yet endured. The muggles called this the Abernethy Forest, but wizards still referred to it as the Caledonian Forest, one of the greatest forests of the British Isles. Even now, it was still largely wild. In many areas the native pines grew side by side with other trees, brought to strengthen the forest. He had smelled Aspen and Birch as he was led blind through the forest, but here he saw only the ancient pines.
Looking around him, he focused now on the pack he had come to speak with. He saw a crowd 30 strong, with sleeping areas and shelters that could easily house over a hundred. Were there more that he wasn't seeing, or were they planning for the future? Or had something happened to to the rest?
"You're here, wizard, now say what you want to say." The speaker was the same man who had met him at the forest's edge, a gruff man with thick black hair, most likely in his 30s. His face was worn and his appearance unkempt, but he had an aura of strength that would have intimidated most. His voice was almost a growl, and he saw the rest of the pack tense as he spoke.
"I am a wizard, yes, but so are most of you, in all likelihood. Muggles rarely survive the first change." Remus kept his voice deliberately calm, and steady. No hint of fear, but no attempt to return the Alpha's intimidation. "I'm sure most of you know of me, but my name is Remus Lupin. And you are Charles, the Alpha of this pack, if I'm not mistaken?"
Charles growled. "Stop wasting our time, wizard. You said you needed to speak to us about something important, so speak."
Remus nodded. "Very well. I've no doubt that you have heard about the return of the Dark Lord, the one who calls himself Voldemort. I would be surprised if his death eaters have not already made contact with you."
Charles smirked. "Looking to get on the winning side this time, wizard?"
Remus nodded. "I am indeed, and I've come to offer you that same chance."
Charles laughed. "The death eaters lied and bribed their way out of prison last time, the wizards still treat us like animals, and we live in the forest because it's the only way we can live without being killed or caged. Even if you defeat the dark lord, there's no 'victory' on your side."
"You're wrong." Remus spoke, allowing the barest hint of a growl to enter his voice.
Charles bared his teeth. "You dare speak to me in that tone of voice?"
"You're wrong." Remus repeated. "The wizards treat you like animals because you treat yourselves like animals. You live in packs, you keep to the forest. Change has been slow in coming, but it is coming, I can promise you that."
"How do you know?" A woman stepped up to the side of Charles. Her body was scarred, her black hair hung limp and tangled around her shoulders. "What makes you think this time will be any different?"
"Look at the muggle world, look at history. Animals can't look to the past to learn, but we have that that gift. Every time a group has been oppressed, they have won their freedom, and every time that happens, the groups that oppressed them have always struggled hardest before the end. Like dying animals, they struggle against the inevitable, too stupid to realize they've already lost. The muggle world has changed, and with it the muggle-borns who come to our world every year. These past years, the last war? It's the dying gasp of the pureblood elite, their dying attempts to keep those changes from coming to our world as well. We're closed off, separate from the muggles, so they were able to hold it off for a while longer, but every year more and more muggle-borns come." Remus's voice grew stronger, more firm as he spoke, though he never let his voice lose its calm, measured pace.
"In the seventies, in the eighties, they looked at the wizarding world as backwards for not accepting these changes. Now? I've seen the children at Hogwarts. Most reject the pureblood dogma out of hand, and the ones who don't… they're bullies, petty and stupid, and the more they rant about their superiority, the more everyone else sees how wrong they are.
"I know change is coming, because it's already here. It walks the halls of Hogwarts, and when they graduate, they won't accept the hatred of their parents."
"And that helps the muggle-born. What about us?" The woman asked. Her tone was guarded, and Remus recognized the struggle against hope, the desperate fight not to be tricked once again.
"The two that I believe will lead this change? One is Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived, and the son of one of my best friends. He already knows me, and fought to save me even knowing what I am. The other is a muggle-born, one of his best friends, a girl who's willing to fight for the rights of house elves, creatures that don't even want their freedom! If we tell her we want to be treated fairly, she'll fight to her dying breath to make that happen, and Harry Potter will fight with her.
"Picture the Dark Lord defeated once again, by the same hero that defeated him the first time. Picture his brave muggle-born friend at his side, staring down that hatred and not blinking. If the two of them set out to fix this world, who would stand in their way?"
"Pretty words." Charles spoke up. As the rest of his pack nodded at Remus's words, Charles had only scowled. "But I've heard them before. What will this great change cost us? Who will we have to kill as part of this war? And when the war is done, there will be celebrations and pictures, but when it comes time to give us our due, there will be nothing but apologies and cages." Charles ripped off his shirt, revealing a patchwork of scars across his body. "This isn't the body of a wizard, it's the body of a wolf, and that's all they'll ever see. You're not one of them, you're their pet." He pulled a knife off of his hip. "If you want to command this pack, you'll have to fight me for it."
Remus shook his head. "I'm not here to command anything, I'm here to tell you what will happen. The Order of the Phoenix will not be gentle this time. Last time we held back, and if we hadn't been saved by the Potters, we would have lost. This time, those who fight with the Dark Lord will be treated like the scum they are."
"You expect us to believe that Albus Dumbledore has suddenly become a killer?" The woman asked.
"No. I expect you to believe that those who joined him are not willing to watch their friends and family die a second time. I expect you to believe that we'll do whatever it takes to protect those we care about."
Remus looked around. Many in the pack looked hopeful, but they were too scared. They had been turned away by society too many times in the past. They wouldn't come with him, not today.
"You don't need to join us." Remus said. "The changes that are coming, they're not a gift, they're the rights we should have had all along. The only ones who won't benefit are the ones who fight against us, by joining Voldemort." He met the gaze of Charles once again. "Attack me if you want, but I will not let myself be defined by the curse. If you attack, I'll fight you as a wizard, and I promise you I'll win."
There was no rage in his voice, just the steady calm he'd maintained through his entire visit. As Charles looked into Remus's eyes, he suddenly found himself unsure. His gaze was unflinching; this wizard showed no fear, even though he was surrounded. Charles stopped himself from stepping back, was sure that he'd shown no sign of fear or hesitation to his pack behind him, but he knew that the man before him had seen the shift.
"Well," Remus said. "I think that's all I needed to say. If you decide you want to join us, Albus Dumbledore can always be reached by those who truly wish to aid him, or those who seek his aid. If you want to stay out of the fighting, I don't expect the death eaters will be this way again, and if you want extra wards, a friend of mine will be happy to help you. An owl addressed to "William Weasley" will get you a set of wards sufficient to keep you hidden for the duration of the war."
"What makes you so sure you can win?" The woman asked. "Voldemort… he's more powerful than you can imagine. How can anyone stop that?"
"Last time he was defeated by a child." Remus replied. "A child that managed to conjure a patronus when he was only 13 years old. A child who willingly faced a werewolf, whose patronus overcame a hundred dementors. A child who faced Voldemort, alone, on the night of his resurrection, when Voldemort had his entire inner circle at his side, and lived to tell the tale. They have Voldemort, and a bunch of death eaters who were already defeated once. We have Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter, and an Order willing to fight to their deaths to stop the dark.
"Voldemort will lose. I may not live to see it, but it will happen. All I ask of you, is that you do not join him before that day comes. Do that, and you will not have to live the rest of your lives as animals in a forest." As he finished speaking, he spun and apparated away.
Remus Lupin landed just outside of a pub he'd seen before heading to the forest. Stepping inside, he sat down at the bar and ordered a drink. Once the bartender had left, he sighed and pulled a list out of his pocket, one enchanted to be visible only to his eyes. He drew a line through "Abernethy Pack".
'One more down… if they stay neutral, that's 3 who have joined the dark lord, 7 that are neutral, and none that have joined us.' He looked over the list, at the number of packs that hadn't been crossed off yet. '10 down, about 60 to go. Maybe I'll go after one of the London packs next, they're usually not quite so far out of the way.' He finished his shot, tossed a few coins on the bar, and got up to head for London.