Moonflower

Chapter 4       -Shopkeeper Borgin and Mr. Burkes-

The professor's first words were a surprise to the class.

Addressing them with his usual, pleasant smile he began: "Since you already know about my – secret – now, it might be a good opportunity to review some facts you learned about the Werewolf in your third year and to catch up on the most recent developments in the treatment of lycanthropy."

"And who would know better than him," Pansy heard Draco taunting from the bench in front of her.

"Too true, Mr. Malfoy," Lupin remarked dryly and everyone flinched with surprise at this unexpected statement.

The professor couldn't possibly have heard the half muttered comment, could he?

Noticing the bewildered looks on their faces he continued: "Well, that's one more thing, Professor Snape might not have filled you in about because of his lack of experience in this special matter. In fact, the senses of most Werewolves are much sharper than those of a human. That's the reason why a human will rarely ever be able to escape or hide from a Werewolf, if they should be so unlucky as to cross the path of one who is on the hunt."     

At these words Pansy felt the blood draining from her face. Forceful and frightening, the memories of that dreadful night rushed back to her mind. She once again felt the excitement, the danger, the fear.

"The best defence against a Werewolf is to simply prevent getting bitten, which is most effectively achieved by simply avoiding his presence," Lupin continued with a smile, causing her to focus on the lecture again.

"Unfortunately this is not an option for any of you. You will still have to attend your Defence Against The Dark Arts lessons, I'm afraid."

A wave of nervous laughter erupted in the class at this comment, but faded surprisingly quickly into tense silence.

"But then, there isn't any need to be afraid of a Werewolf, except for the night of the full moon, and luckily a skilled Potions Master like Professor Snape, is able to mitigate this temporary risk, by brewing a very powerful concoction. The Wolfsbane Potion." 

A nervous murmuring spread amongst the students once again. Apparently oblivious to this, Professor Lupin continued: "What this potion achieves, is to keep the Werewolf in possession of his human mind, so he won't attack anyone during his time as a wolf unless he does so by his own free will. You see, there is nothing to be afraid of," he concluded with another smile, then turned serious again. "But even in the rare occasions when a person gets bitten, there are possibilities to prevent them from turning into a Werewolf – nowadays."   

At this declaration Pansy's head snapped up in surprise, a frantic gleam of hope reflecting in her eyes, but the professor's next words destroyed it right away.

"As long as immediately treated, by special essences, the recipes of which you'll learn at Potions, and drinking a concoction, which – well a special potion; the transmission can be suppressed. Unfortunately these treatments are only effective if administered within the first twenty-four hours after the bite, whereas every later treatment will be to no use."

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The sharp intake of breath, unnoticeable to a mere human ear, caused Remus Lupin to turn his head. For the second time that day he found his eyes locked with those of Miss Parkinson.

She was pale, he noticed, even more than she had been as she had entered the classroom, but for some reason, she now looked not only fearful, but beaten.

Well, it was probably better not to press that tricky problem right now. Facing his class again, he decided to deal with this after the lesson.

"Do you have any more questions about the matter?" he asked and once again a wave of murmurs rose amongst the students as they were murmuring to their neighbours. It probably wasn't more than low, barely audible whispering to any normal person, but to him it appeared as clear and sound as any other conversation.

But only Draco Malfoy dared to raise his hand and speak aloud, and Remus could sense the aggression radiating from him in an almost palpable way. His cool grey eyes fixed his teacher with an obnoxious, daring gaze. "Sir, I'm sure that we're all very appreciative that you've – warned – us all about the dangers of Werewolf bites, seeing as my father says … well, never mind what he says. But I've a question: You might not know either, but I'm sure the whole class is curious to know. We know that a Werewolf's bite is contagious, but what about a bite when he's in human form, or –his kiss? Not that I'm – gay – or anything. Just curious," Draco smirked as he looked appreciatively around the room at the snickers and guffaws that met his impertinent inquiry.

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Suddenly nervous, Pansy shrank back in her chair, refusing to meet the gaze of her erstwhile boyfriend. How much did he know?

She got a tiny pang in her heart as she watched Mr. Lupin staring resolutely at the floor, waiting for the class to quiet down.    

When the little whispers and giggles had died away, he looked up again. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, Mr Malfoy, but you seem to have a quite interesting idea of what Defence Against the Dark Arts requires. But if you are this interested in the matter, why don't you do some research at the library about it and report on what you found?"

She couldn't help but smile at the sight of the stunned expression that crossed Draco's face for a split second, before he managed to recover and find his usual trademark smirk again. Strangely satisfied, Pansy leaned back in her seat.

'Serves him right,' she thought grimly. 'How dare he making fun of this.' In her current state of worry about her own future, she took his rude obnoxious question as an insult to herself as well. And she didn't take it well at all.  

After the lesson she tried to slip out of the room as quickly as possible, but the voice in her back made her stop dead in her tracks. "Miss Parkinson, a word please…"

Slowly, reluctantly, she turned her head to glance over her shoulder. "Professor?"

Draco, who was already in the doorway, whirled around. "What do you want with her?" he glared angrily.

"Is there a problem, Mr. Malfoy?" the professor remarked calmly.

"Yes, there is," he snapped. "I won't leave her all alone in a room with you!"

"Mr. Malfoy, it would pain me to have to issue a detention to a seventh-year in the first week of class, but I will not tolerate such impertinence from you. If I thought that your comments were motivated by concern and not malice, I might be more sympathetic. As it is, you've used up all your credit with me. For now. Be on your way, Mr. Malfoy. Miss Parkinson will catch up with you presently."

Draco ground his teeth, but couldn't really do anything against this order.

After the door closed behind him, Pansy grew nervously aware the fact that she was now all alone in Lupin's presence. His hazel eyes fixed her questioningly and as she couldn't stand their gaze she bowed her head and looked to her feet. She once again sensed the special scent, she had noticed at her entry. It wasn't easy to describe, it was – well, no matter what it was – this was neither time nor place to wonder about it. But she was sure she hadn't come across it before, not at Hogwarts, nor anywhere else, nowhere – It made her throat turn dry and brought a dainty film of sweat to her forehead and neck.

Deciding attack was the best defence, she inhaled a deep breath that made the unfamiliar scent even more intense, threw her head back and asked in the snappiest way she could manage: "You wanted to talk to me? Sir?"

She saw his nostrils switching as if he noticed the faint scent of nervousness rising from her pores.

"Yes, Miss Parkinson," he exclaimed calmly, gesturing towards one of the front row benches. "Won't you take a seat?"

Her eyes briefly flickered towards the advised seat, then immediately back towards his face again. "No!!" she sniffed. "Thank you, I'd prefer to stand, Professor. And if you don't mind, could you come to the point, please? I have lessons to attend."

She thought she noticed him flinching for a split second, but she might have been mistaken by this. The very next moment the expression on his face was calm and controlled again. "Handle that as you please, Miss Parkinson. I certainly don't intend to hold you up. It's just –"

He drew in another breath, exhaled the air with a barely audible sigh and rose from his chair. As he rounded the desk she stepped immediately backwards and was dismayed to see the brief jab of hurt reflecting in his eyes at her action. Determinedly not to show any fear, she stood her ground and fought the urge to back away from him. But her whole posture was tense and defensive, and she was sure he noticed.

With an exasperated sigh Lupin leaned back against the edge of the desk and folded his arms in front of his chest. She couldn't blame him. She suddenly felt almost sorry for him. It couldn't be easy to find people acting this way around oneself, she assumed. She briefly wondered if she would soon face such rejection and dislike as well and swallowed hard at the idea. He certainly had every right to be mad at her for her snippiness, and she almost supposed him to give her a detention, or take points from her: after all she had just witnessed that he could get quite stern and strict as he had when he'd told Draco off. Even if the expression on his face was calm and friendly as usual, she could easily sense the embitterment and fury that hid behind those apparently serene and unaffected features.

"As I said," he began carefully, his gaze never losing hers, "I certainly don't intend to hold you up, Miss Parkinson, but I noticed your nervousness during the lesson and – Well never mind. I just wondered if there was anything, you'd like to talk to me about. I was under the impression that there was something bothering you. Maybe you'd want to come to my office this afternoon?"

"Is that an order, Professor," Pansy asked, suddenly afraid at the idea he might have noticed anything strange around her. To her utter relief, he shook his head though. 

"No, certainly not, it's just – an offer. It's your decision to take it."

"Well, then I don't know what I should be there for," she snapped. "I've certainly nothing to discuss with you. Is there anything else –sir?"

"No," he shook his head as if he wanted to stress his words. "No, no, you can go if you like."

"Fine then," she sniffed. "Good day, Professor." With that she whirled around and rushed out of the classroom, but the quietly spoken words muttered more to himself than her, cut like a stab in her back.

"Oh yes, a good day, Miss Parkinson. I should have known better than to ask. What on earth did I expect? Why would you accept any help from – me?" he mumbled and she was sure she wouldn't be able to get the sad tone of his voice out of her head for the rest of the day.   

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The air seemed to whirr with the heat of noon that slowed all activity to a minimum, and drove the inhabitants of the old wizarding Alley back into the cool of their shops and houses to wait for the temperature to decrease to a level that would bring back visitors in the afternoon.

Right now all strangers had either returned to one of the cafes, or the pub in Diagon Alley around the corner; or had settled themselves at one of the tables of this Alley's inn to escape the heat of noon.

Knockturn Alley seemed to be in a state of lazy midday drowsiness. Not even the lightest gust moved the air to refresh the thick, disabling heat around.

This way not many even noticed the two dark-robed men, who crossed the dusty street towards  "The Bad End" at the corner. Quite in contrast to the deserted street, the narrow, shadowy inn was almost filled to the last of its tables. Only when the brutish, dark looking barkeeper had delivered their order and shuffled back towards his station did the black-haired wizard turn the conversation towards the one topic that had brought them both out of their comfortable Manors into the dusty, heated streets of wizards' London that day. The one matter he had been burning to hear about ever since he had received his companion's owl the day before. "Well what is it that's so important and secretive, you didn't want to tell me in your letter, Lucius?"

A sly smile crossed the noble features of the pale, blond man. "Don't be so impatient, you'll understand the need to discuss a matter of this importance in person, in a place that's –" his pale-grey eyes wandered around the dimly-lit barroom, "appreciated – once I told you Parcival." He took another sip from his goblet, before he leaned forward, a smug expression on his face. "Well, you already heard the news about the latest addition to the Hogwarts staff, didn't you?"

At that the expression on the other man's face darkened. "Ahh, yes, how couldn't I Lucius? The Daily Prophet ran a large article about it last week. It's a shame," he suddenly flew out, his voice rising towards an angry snarl. "When I imagine that that – creature is teaching my daughter –"

"Keep calm, Parcival, my dear friend," the other wizard warned with a careful side-glance at the other tables. "We wouldn't want to draw more attention than necessary, would we? There's no reason to be concerned about your daughter. She has Draco to keep an eye on her. He's well prepared to handle the situation."

After another sip of his wine he continued:  "Of course I agree with you that it's a shame that Dumbledore that muggle-loving old fool is still in the position to decide what happens at Hogwarts, and who is hired and allowed to teach – or spoil in this case – the young minds of the wizarding world. Given his most recent choice of instructor this might change quite soon though. Our Master thinks this arrangement might not be as useless to us as it seems at first glance."

"How could he be of use to us?" the other man frowned, leaning curiously forward in his seat. 

"Well, Werewolves are still deeply mistrusted around the magical world," his companion drawled, with a triumphant smirk. "And quite right, if you ask me. There have been enough warnings and objections questioning his choice, but Dumbledore insisted on hiring that freak. I was infuriated by the idea as well at first, but just imagine the possibilities. An attack during the full moon every now and then – A little slaughter amongst the inhabitants of Hogsmeade –

I already instructed Draco to increase mistrust and fright in the others. To remind them constantly, who and – what – that man amongst them is, so they won't forget and will draw their own conclusions when it's about time. As for Dumbledore – Well, this time the old fool might have played right into our hands, Parcival, listen…"

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The noise of slowly approaching steps on the dry grass caused Pansy to turn her head. Surprised to have heard it from a distance of more than fifty yards, she watched the tall, lean young wizard approaching her. The late gloom of afternoon sun playing on his silvery-blonde hair.

"There you are," he mumbled as he came to a halt at her side, taking in the fact that she had taken off her shoes and lifted her robes up to the knees, her bare feet dangling in the water. An amused smile switched across his lips. "I should have known."

He sat down beside her on the landing whose old, bleached wood was still warm from the sun, and sneaked an arm in a possessive manner around her shoulders. "I missed you," he whispered fiercely and drew her closer. "We haven't had any private time since we've been back at Hogwarts."

It was pretty clear what he was up to, she knew him well enough. Besides that she could even scent the sexual tension radiating from him.

"Didn't you miss me, too, Pansy?" he muttered, tracing his fingertips softly across the bare skin of her palm and forearm. "You aren't avoiding me, are you?"  

It took her all self-control not to shrug his arm off and pull away from him. "Of course not, Draco," she muttered uneasily, "but I – uhm I – I guess we hadn't better do this anymore."

He looked up at her, surprise written all over his face. She almost felt bad for making up such an excuse as she planned. But it was simply the best way to keep him off – the best she could think of right now at least. Drawing in a deep breath, she continued: "I don't think it's wise to take a risk like this – and during the final year at that. School will be over soon enough and we can certainly wait that long, couldn't we?" At his blank look, she continued, more determined: "What if I get pregnant, Draco? Did you ever think about that?"

"Pregnant?" he asked in alarm. The blood seemed to drain from his already pale cheeks. "Oh – shit – I – didn't waste a single thought on this so far. Didn't you take a potion!?" His voice sounded almost as shrill as Longbottom's now.

If she hadn't been so worried about the bite, she might have found this little fake play pretty amusing. Slowly she shook her head. "No, I didn't even think of the possibility anything might happen, until –"

"Until what Pansy?" Draco asked nervously. "Until you found out it did?!" He was even paler than usual, if that was at all possible, but now, nervous pink patches appeared on his high cheekbones. Running his fingers through his slivery-blond hair, he stared to his knees. "Oh shit, oh shit, I can't believe you didn't take any potion. How could you Pansy?! How could you not tell me?! I thought you had more sense. I thought – I thought it was safe! Oh damn – father is going to have my head about this… and your parents as well..."

A sudden feeling of anger rose inside her at this and caused her to grind her teeth. "Is that all you have to say about the matter!?" she glared.

"Of course not, Pansy," he looked up at her again, a torment of emotion mirroring on his face, then, suddenly, his pale-grey eyes softened. Impulsively, he reached out for her and pulled her close once again, but this time the intention was clearly a different one. She was stunned by the gentleness with which he turned her face towards his. "I'm sorry," he muttered, stroking some stands of her hair out of her face with his fingertips. "I'm sorry, Pansy. I know it's not your fault. I didn't think of this one bit either. I didn't mean what I said that way. I was just so – startled – by the news, I – Oh Pansy, are you all right, I mean are you em –  Did I really get you with child?"

She just looked at him for a couple of seconds, surprised at the unexpected gentle and tender reaction. He must really care about her. Despite all his coldness and cruelty he showed towards others, he seemed to care about her – A lot as it seemed. This didn't make the situation any easier. She couldn't continue like this anymore. Not now –

"No," she croaked out uncomfortably, her voice shaking slightly. "No, you didn't. It's just that I thought – I thought that – it was better, if we– didn't continue like this –  I –"

"Don't lie to me, Pansy. What are you afraid of?" he muttered, dragging her closer, "It will be all right – everything will be all right, you'll see…"          

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Up in his office in the castle Remus Lupin turned away from the window as Draco Malfoy pulled Pansy Parkinson into a kiss. A very reluctant kiss as far as the black-haired young woman was concerned for all it appeared to him. He had been watching her thoughtfully for quite a while, ever since he'd noticed her coming out of the castle, walking down towards the lake and taking off her shoes, but he certainly didn't want to intrude on her privacy now that she had company.

He couldn't quite put a finger on it, but something was definitely going on. He had noticed a very similar scent to the one he had detected around her, somewhere else before - and recently at that. If he could only remember, where on earth he had encountered it. There was definitely something strange about her. He had noticed how far away the young Malfoy had been, when she had suddenly turned her head to look at him, seemingly because she had heard him approach. How could that be? It might have been nothing but pure chance, but somehow he doubted this and he was determined to keep an eye on her. If his suspicions were correct, he couldn't allow her to keep her dark secret to herself much longer.

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The sound of the doorbell wasn't really necessary to announce the arrival of the two back-robed wizards to the oily-grey-haired man behind the desk. He'd already noticed them approaching, since they had rounded the corner at the end of the street.

Hastily he jumped to his feet, eager to make a good bargain with one, or preferably both of these wealthy men.

His vivid amber eyes flickered towards the door with anticipation. Neither Mr. Parkinson nor Mr. Malfoy would enter his shop to just have a look around. He could only hope they were planning to buy, not sell this time.

A/N: I bet you know what they are going to ask of him, don't you? The name of the shop is playing an important role in this story and I guess you know to which characters of a different book, I'm hinting to.

Lots of thanks for all the nice reviews I got so far. I'm really glad that you like this story. Even though there isn't much romance yet, there is lots to come soon, you can be sure of that. And it won't be Draco/Pansy, don't worry.

A big THANK YOU to SilentG, my howling brilliant beta-reader!

Serpentina